Title: Nothing's Changed
Beta: Anonymous033 (Soph you are awesome)
I own nothing
Warnings/ Spoilers:
Tony/Ziva, McGee/Abby. Nothing explicit.
Summary: Set many years in the future, the team are back in DC after years apart. The walls haven't changed by the director has.
Dedication: Happy birthday mewoffard.

Nothing's Changed

Ziva David stood in the elevator; she looked around the grey box. She was certain it had not changed since the day she stepped into it twenty years ago, intent on stopping a brother she could not bear to let be lost; she had not intended to find a family.

She stepped off the elevator and found that the bullpen still had the awful pumpkin walls – the same ones it had had when she last set foot into NCIS' Washington, DC office over ten years ago. Her desk was now occupied by Emily Fornell; Emily's decision to join NCIS still greatly hurt Tobias Fornell, and was the butt of many jokes about the now-retired FBI Agent. The next desk, which used to be Tony's, had none other than Carson Taylor sitting at it. The Tony Mini-Me sat with his feet on the desk and a phone to his ear as he ordered a table at a very expensive restaurant. The desk that used to belong to McGee also had an agent sitting at it; Zach Tanner, who had a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand.

"Zach you're gonna kill yourself with all that caffeine," Emily said.

The now twenty-six-year-old agent shot Emily a smirk. She laughed. Ziva could not help but to wonder how Fornell would feel about an NCIS agent son-in-law, especially one so similar to Gibbs. Ziva looked towards Gibbs' desk; it now had Tony sitting at it. He seemed surprised to see her.

"You weren't wearing that when you left this morning," Tony uttered with a smile, looking at Ziva with his elevator eyes. She had a purple sweater buttoned up over a black pencil skirt with a slit up the left leg. Even in her mid-forties Ziva was an example of pure sexiness.

"I cannot exactly run the anti-terrorism unit in heels," she said as she stepped into his personal space. She ran a team not unlike Paula Cassidy's outside the Pentagon. She had two agents under her control; one of which was Josh Cooper, another of which was Amanda Lee.

"I have to see the director," she whispered, leaning in close. Tony felt her breath on his skin and found himself reminded of their early days together, under Gibbs.

"And you thought you'd give him a show?" he asked. Ziva stepped back.

"I never said the show was for him," she replied as she walked towards the stairs.

Ziva had worked on Gibbs' team for ten years when they were broken up for the second time, and this time permanently. Gibbs had been killed in the line of duty, a week before he was due to retire. They were saddened but not surprised by his death as none of them had expected him to just retire. Director Vance had also taken the opportunity to retire, as he had realised that despite his best efforts, his work affected too much of his family life. His kids were close to moving out so he had decided to take Jackie travelling and was now a doting grandfather. The then-director Stan Burley had ordered them to go on different assignments to boost their careers. On their last night the team had said their goodbyes. Tony and Ziva had also said goodbyes of their own and promised not to let each other go, even if geography separated them.

For four years they had navigated a complicated long-distance relationship with holidays in various fancy places and the occasional visit. Then came the opportunity to work together in Rota, Spain. They lived in Rota fairly happily for a while, though there were arguments; they worked well together, both at home and at work. But as time wore on the stresses of both places had infected each other. The toxicity of an argument about washing would explode into an argument about a case. Then Director Burley had offered Ziva a promotion. She had taken it. As much as it hurt both of them to be separated, it hurt them even more to keep fighting.

It was less than six months before they had continued their arrangement from before with holidays and occasional visits. The arrangement had worked well. Work stayed work. Their relationship stayed private. The new director had recently brought them together into the same city and it seemed like the perfect time for them; both of them were as advanced as they wanted to be in their careers and both did not want to die alone, even if the opportunity for children had long passed. When they arrived a week beforehand it had seemed only natural to get a little house together and try out the whole domestic thing again. So far it seemed to be working. Ziva was currently in the process of persuading Tony to let her buy a cat.

Tim McGee sat in the director's chair. It still felt strange to him; he had never considered himself good enough to be the director, but both the SecNav and the former director believed in him, so he took the opportunity.

"Director McGee," the voice on the other end of the telephone line said.

"Director Ben-Gidon," McGee replied to the equally new Mossad director.

McGee politely smiled even though the Mossad director could not see him. Malachi was not like previous mossad directors. He had not made Eli's mistakes; he had never married and had no children to hate him. Liat had been dead almost a decade, and McGee could not help but to wonder if Malachi still mourned for her. Mossad had also changed a little; though they were still the 'bad-asses' of the intelligence community, they played a bit nicer with others. Under Malachi's predecessor the Mossad-NCIS liaison position had been reinstated, but this time the position was much less crime scenes and more paperwork and conference calls.

"The mission is in order, MTAC at 0500 tomorrow Zulu," Malachi reported in a neutral voice. There were murmurs in the background in languages McGee did not understand. "The CIA has got Director Cruz babysitting us."

"All set," McGee said as the door to his office opened; he assumed it to be Abby so he began to wrap up the conversation. Instead of Abby, Ziva stepped through the doors. "Shalom," he said as Malachi abruptly hung up the phone.

"Ziva," he called, getting up to greet his friend. She kissed him on the cheek.

"Mazel Tov," she told him as she looked around his office. "Though I would have thought you would change the orange."

McGee laughed. He had hated the pumpkin-coloured walls when he first joined NCIS, but since working in other NCIS offices without the pumpkin walls it had felt strange to be without them.

"I couldn't imagine it any other way," he said. Ziva smiled.

"Some things about this place will never change," she said to him as he picked up his gear.

They reached the platform above the bullpen. Ziva looked at the wall behind it; next to the Most Wanted wall was a wall showing the agents who had died in the line of duty. Gibbs' face sat there surrounded by other faces she knew, such as Brent Langer, Michelle Lee, and Chad Dunham.

McGee looked across the bullpen to find Abby standing, on her cell phone talking with someone he assumed to be fellow NCIS scientist Maddie Tyler. In the intervening years forensics had become an even more essential part of NCIS, and after a cancer scare Abby had finally relented and let Director Burley assign her a lab assistant; that assistant had been Maddie Tyler. Soon after that, Burley had come to realise that NCIS needed more than one lab, and so he had sent Abby down to the San Diego office, to set up a West Coast Lab; she had lasted six months before begging to come back to DC. Maddie Tyler had been given a promotion, and sent to take Abby's place. The two had remained close friends; there phone conversations were not just about science.

"Tanner," Tony said as McGee and Ziva walked down to the bullpen stopping at the bottom of the stairs, "Go to MTAC and get the intel from Johnson in Bahrain." Dwayne Johnson was now the agent in charge of the Bahrain field office, and still married, much to Tony's surprise.

"Zuse in Rota got back to me," Emily said with a smirk.

"I bet he did," Carson muttered with his own smirk. Emily threw a pen at him.

"And?" Tony asked.

"No sign, Boss," Emily replied.

"Knox emailed you Palmer's report on the Bennett case," Carson said, "now can we go? I have a date."

"Emily can go, Zach can go," Tony said as the two agents rushed off. "And you, Carson, need to wait for Dwayne Johnson to buzz in to MTAC."

McGee and Ziva walked across the bullpen toward elevator where Abby was standing. As Carson sulked McGee put his arm around Abby as she hung up.

"Leyla and Amira are going to be late," Abby said. "Traffic is bad and Leyla got lost on the interstate collecting Amira from college."

"Jimmy and Breena are sorting something out with JD," Tony said. Jethro Donald "JD" Palmer was the nine-and-a-half-year-old son of Jimmy and Breena, conceived the day of Gibbs' funeral and born not long after Ducky had died of natural causes.

"We will start without them," McGee told her.


They stood in front of the gravestone. Abby put a bunch of black roses on it. Ziva put a small pebble.

"Hey Boss," Tony whispered, touching the gravestone. He then stepped back from the grave and took Ziva's hand. She leaned into him.

"I still miss him," Abby uttered.

"We all do Abs," Tony replied. "Now let's go get something to eat." They all moved towards the exit of the graveyard. McGee lingered by Gibbs' grave for a second.

"I will catch you guys up," he said. He waited until the others had gone out of earshot before kneeling at the gravestone.

"Hey Boss, I hope I'm doing a good job. I hope I'm making you proud," he told Gibbs.

"You are," a voice bellowed from behind. McGee turned around to face the voice. He saw Tony. "Believe me McDirector you are." McGee got up. He saw Ziva and Abby standing just a few metres away. The four of them walked out of the graveyard. Tony wrapped his arms around Ziva's waist.

"I really like the skirt," he whispered. Ziva shook her head, Tony definitely hadn't changed.

Abby wrapped herself tightly around McGee; so tightly he had slight difficulty breathing.

"You'll be a great director," she told him. McGee smiled as he began to believe he would.

A/N: Thank you for reading, reviews are always welcome.