Warnings: Spoilers for "Dead Air"

A/N: I can't believe we've made it to the end of this story! But don't worry, Tony and Natalie and the rest of the gang will be back in a brand new, shiny story soon :) I hope you have enjoyed!

E- Of course Tim and Natalie had Tony's six, I thought the fact that Tim and Ziva turned the radio down was one of the dumbest things the writers have done on this show. It made Tim and Ziva look like toolbags and incompetent agents.

"How's our girl doing?" Tony asked, coughing as he got into the car with McGee. Gibbs had taken Johanson back to the Navy Yard.

"You feeling alright? You sound worse," McGee pointed out as he snapped some photographs.

Tony grabbed a pair of binoculars and focused on Natalie talking to Haskell. He grunted when he noticed her body language. She was completely flirting with their target. "What is it with women, Tim? Finding bad boys attractive... she's totally playing this all wrong with the flirting and the giggling like a school girl."

McGee looked over at Tony with a bemused smirk. "I don't know, seems to be working to me. Haskell's body language has been less tense since she started being flirty. The guy hasn't had a woman probably look his way in a long time, and considering that his wife has been dead eighteen months I'm sure dating has been far from his mind. She's reaching out to that primal side of men to lull him into a false sense of security."

"I could have done that," Tony croaked.

"What? Flirt? I don't think Haskell swings that way," McGee joked.

"She's acting too... sexual..."

"You're telling me that your girlfriend is too sexual?"

Tony put the binoculars done and stared at his partner. "Not for me... she can be as sexual as she wants when she's with me..."

McGee laughed, silently and shook his head. "But she can't have that kind of sexual appeal to anyone else... got it. So, you'd rather her be out there dressed as a nun right now, instead of the leather?"

"Let's get real here, Probie, a nun couldn't sell explosives," Tony said, frowning at him.

"I just meant..."

"Quiet. Natalie's coming back."

Natalie waited until Haskell was gone to open the back door of the Charger and climb in. "He's going home to check my background, but I think I made the deal. He wants me to meet him at his house this afternoon. I guess the neighbors are having a cook-out."

Tony glanced at her in the back, eyes drifting over how good she looked in that leather jacket. "Did he tell you what the target was?"

She shook her head. "No. He didn't want to talk about it here. They already have the bomb, Tony, one of those people in Royal Woods is keeping it in their house. Haskell was arranging the meeting with Deeter to discuss getting a detonator."

He coughed and covered his mouth with a fist. "Well, if you convince him to buy the detonator from you, once he wires the money... we'll have enough for an arrest warrant. He probably killed Gator to shut him up."

"Gibbs is going to want the target," Natalie argued while McGee drove the car back to base. "If Haskell is taken down they'll just regroup."

"So, make sure you get the target this afternoon," Tony replied. He turned in his seat and grinned at her. "Ms. O'Connor."

"Any suggestions, Special Agent DiNozzo?" Natalie asked, honestly.

"Yes," Tony said, "Just keep flirting. Apparently Haskell likes the dangerous chick type."

McGee chuckled. "Yeah and apparently that makes you jealous."

Tony shot him a glare. Natalie spoke up from the back, "Jealous? It was pretend flirting, Tony. I don't find Haskell attractive at all. Getting jealous while I'm playing a part, undercover is a little silly."

"You got jealous of that house wife that wanted to get naked in the hot tub with him yesterday," McGee said, throwing her under the bus, clearly.

"Ah-ha! So you get jealous while I'm playing a part too," Tony exclaimed, throwing himself into a fit of coughs.

"Fine. Yes I did not like that woman drooling all over you," Natalie confessed. "Tony... Haskell... it meant nothing."

"Natalie... neighbor number five... meant nothing," he said, his voice cracking.

McGee slowed the car at an intersection and looked at his partner. "You really need to get that looked at."

Tony shook his head. "I'm fine. Just a tickle in my throat. I'll have some more cough drops when we get back and my voice will return."

His voice did not return. It had finally given out while he was interrogating Deeter Johanson. And despite that, they had still gotten a lot of information out of him. He had sold the explosives to Haskell and was meeting to arrange a price for the detonator. The bomb needed extreme heat to detonate but he had no idea what—or who—the target was.

Fresh from the interrogation, and Johanson on his way to booking, Natalie had cornered Tony when he came back into the bullpen. Ducky and his examination bag were waiting.

Tony was told to sit on the edge of his desk while Ducky proceeded to look at his throat. "I'm fine," he squeaked.

Natalie looked at him incredulously. "You have been losing your voice progressively since yesterday," she reminded him. "You're not fine."

"It's just a tickle in my throat," Tony argued, shifting to look around Ducky at her.

"Anthony," Ducky chided him, "this would go so much faster if you would just sit still."

He stopped fidgeting and continued to watch Natalie get ready for her second meeting with Haskell. She slipped her leather jacket on over her olive green tee shirt and using her hands, lifted her hair out from underneath the jacket and over her shoulders. "Are you ready for your second meeting with the domestic terrorist?" he asked, before yelping when Ducky pressed on his throat too hard.

The medical examiner apologized. "I'm sorry, Anthony," Ducky sighed. "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong, just some inflammation from over use. I would recommend that you refrain from talking for twenty-four hours. I know... this will be difficult. I hope there will be no movie references that require your edification. I'd hate for your ego to write a check that your body can't cash"

Natalie took the bait and smiled, "I know that one! It's a military film! A Few Good Men!"

Tony shook his head and opened his mouth to correct her. Ducky put a finger to his mouth and shushed him. The senior field agent looked a little wounded.

"Don't do it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said coming back into the bullpen. "Willpower."

"Top Gun," Tony squeaked, showing that he had no willpower when it came to movie references.

Gibbs smirked and shook his head. He looked at Natalie. "Ready to go Miss O'Connor?"

Natalie tucked her weapon into the back of her jeans and nodded. "Ready."

"Wired?"

"Yes. And I have a camera in the button of my jacket so I can be tracked from MTAC."

The team leader snapped his fingers and directed Tony to go monitor the operation from MTAC. Gibbs and McGee would back Natalie up in the field. Tony looked at Natalie seriously for a moment, the concern for her safety etched into his features, but he quietly turned on his heel and did as he was ordered.

Gibbs gently guided Natalie to the elevator. Never lost a man undercover, Kate, he had once mentioned to Agent Todd years ago when Tony was missing undercover. I don't plan on losing one now.

After Natalie infiltrated Haskell's back yard barbeque, they knew where the bomb was—in a freezer locked up in Haskell's garage—they knew that his daughter was a typical teenager pissed off that her dad missed a soccer game and they knew that his neighbors were angry that government spending should be focused on problems in the U.S and not over seas. But none of them screamed terrorist to Gibbs, and none of them had given up the target.

Natalie slipped into the car and rubbed her temples. "I have a headache," she mumbled.

Gibbs started the car up. "Did you give him the fake bank account number?"

"Yes. He's wiring three hundred thousand dollars."

"Where did he get that kind of money from?"

"Wouldn't say," Natalie replied. "If he wires it, McGee should be able to track it. But they're all incredibly rich, Gibbs. They probably are paying for it themselves."

He didn't think so. They had asked Deeter for explosives that couldn't be tracked, they would use money that couldn't be traced back to them. They were turning out to be smarter than he gave them credit for. It was time to pull the plug—to get Natalie out before Haskell and the others questioned her loyalty to the cause. They were going to raid the Haskell home that night and arrest Haskell, confiscate the bomb and hand the rest of it over to the FBI—let MAH be their problem.

Kristen Haskell reminded Natalie of herself at sixteen—pissed off at her father. Of course, Natalie's issues with her father at that age had been typical teenage issues—who she dated, what she wore, her grades—she definitely was not dealing with the possibility of her father being a terrorist or a murderer like Kristen was.

She felt sad for the young girl. She had lost her mother to a violent home invasion, now her father was going to be going to jail for plotting a terror attack and quite possibly murdering three people. Natalie leaned against the doorframe of the Conference room and watched as Kristen spoke with someone from Social Services. After they had raided the Haskell home the night before, found Arthur Haskell unconscious in the garage where he'd shown Natalie the bomb earlier, NCIS had taken Kristen into custody.

Natalie didn't think she knew anything. Haskell had kept all plans from her, probably trying to protect her. The NCIS agent had asked if Kristen wanted to go to the hospital to see her father, but the teenager had turned her down, angrily. She didn't want to see him but she argued hotly that her father had not murdered those three men.

Tony said she was in denial. Natalie believed it was more than that. Kristen's whole world was falling apart around her and being angry was the easiest way to cope with the changes. Arguing with the NCIS agents about her father's involvement in Gator's murder was one way of channeling all that anger.

"Go talk to her," Gibbs said in her ear. "Her father is being released from the hospital. Tony and McGee went to pick him up. I need something, Callahan."

"She doesn't know anything," Natalie replied, just as softly looking up at him. "I've already tried talking to her. She doesn't want to listen to me."

"Try again," Gibbs urged her.

Natalie sighed and stepped into the Conference room. She went to sit down, carefully eyeing Kristen.

Kristen glared at her. "I know my father didn't kill anyone. He can rot in jail if he's associated with terrorists for all I care—but I know he didn't kill those men. He was actually at my soccer practice that morning—the only one he's been too in months."

"After your mother died and you moved, was your father close to anyone?" Natalie asked.

"He kept to himself for a while, until we moved to Royal Woods," Kristen replied. "He started to hang around with Mr. Nelson, they took trips."

"Trips? What kind of trips?" Natalie inquired.

"Hunting trips," Kristen answered.

Natalie looked up at Gibbs who quickly turned on his heel and left. She reached out and placed her hand over Kristen's. "Thank you, that was very helpful," she told the girl.

Kristen had a look of uncertainty in her eyes. "Agent Callahan, what's going to happen to me?"

"Social Services will make sure that you're taken care of, most likely find you a placement with family. Any relatives that live near by?"

"My aunt. She lives in Alexandria."

"We'll make sure some one calls her and she can come pick you up," Natalie promised her. She gently tapped her hand and stood, heading back for the bullpen.

Natalie was grabbed and almost thrown into the elevator by Gibbs. "Come on, let's go! Matt Lane has the bomb, Haskell told us. We think we figured out the target, girls softball game with lots and lots of daughters with high profile parents," the team leader snapped.

Tony handed Natalie her badge and weapon. He frowned at her. "Chamomile tea didn't work," he rasped.

McGee smiled. "It did if you want to count us using it as fake deer urine to get Nelson to confess to murder."

"Hank Nelson murdered Gator and the others?"

"Haskell's alibi checked out—he also claims no one was supposed to get hurt."

"Lane didn't like that. He wants to make a bigger statement," Natalie guessed.

Gibbs nodded. "And taking out daughters of politicians and judges... well... that makes a statement."

Matt Lane was placing his umpiring equipment in the back of his truck when the Charger pulled up. He didn't even flinch when the NCIS team got out of the car, weapons drawn at his head. "You'll never find it," he said, and then scowled at Natalie. "Should have known you weren't an arms dealer."

Natalie watched as Gibbs got right in Lane's face and demanded where the bomb was again. She glanced around the barbequing parents, the children running around laughing and smiling—and spotted the red grill, the same one she had seen Lane use at the Haskells' home. "Gibbs! The grill! The bomb is in the grill! He's using the heat to set it off."

"She's good," Lane murmured as the team leader shoved him towards the car.

"Spread out, clear the area! Go!" Gibbs shouted at his team, before ordering McGee to put Lane in the car.

Tony and Natalie took off, shoving people away from the area, while shouting that they were federal agents. Wells, Gibbs noted, as he joined them, Natalie was yelling... Tony was doing a lot pushing and shoving thanks to having no voice. Of all the days to lose his voice... "Move it! Let's go! There's a bomb!"

Natalie rounded up a group of kids and sent them running in the opposite direction of the grill. Her back was to the ticking time bomb when Tony, who was close enough to see, noticed that the temperature of the grill was at seven hundred degrees, fahrenheit. Deeter said it needed four hundred degrees celsius before it blew... only about fifty or so more degrees to go!

He turned on his heel, knowing there was no time to wait for the bomb squad or turn the grill off before it blew, Tony grabbed Natalie around the waist, throwing both of them to the ground just as the grill exploded. The ground around them shook, debris went flying through the air, and Tony covered his head with his arms, while using his body to shield Natalie. When the explosion was over, when it was silent except for some people crying and children screaming, his ears were now ringing to add to his sore throat.

She was motionless underneath him and Tony panicked, and pushed himself up on his elbows. Natalie was lying underneath him on her back, her arms at her sides and she was breathing, heavily. "I thought we said we taking things slow?" she asked, a teasing smile on her face.

"This is slow," Tony responded, his throat killing him. "We're still fully clothed."

"I think that's the first time you've been on top of me with your clothes on," Natalie teased.

"Do you prefer it the other way?"

"Mmmm... What do you think?"

"Tony! Natalie!" McGee shouted. "Are you guys okay!"

Groaning, Tony managed to roll off of his partner. He got to his feet and then helped Natalie up. "Yeah. Fine. Bomb was more flash than anything."

Natalie brushed some grass from her pants. "Tony taking me down hurt more."

"Well... if he hadn't you might be dead, "McGee pointed out, gesturing towards a large piece of debris laying on the ground where Natalie had been standing moments before.

"She's just sore that I jumped her with my clothes on," Tony teased, picking grass out of her hair, grinning.

McGee rolled his eyes and went to report to Gibbs that the pair of agents was fine. Looking around at the mess the bomb had created and knowing that they were going to be here hours... suddenly it hit him how close they had come to losing both Tony and Natalie, if that bomb had packed a bigger punch... McGee looked back over his shoulder at his partners, smiling and teasing with each other. For the first time in a few days, everything felt like it was back to normal.

Hours later, after they had processed the scene and handed the case over to the FBI, Gibbs sat in the driver's seat of the Charger, McGee in the passenger seat. Tony and Natalie were in the back.

They had been stuck in traffic since leaving the ball field. An accident on the highway at rush hour was backing things up. The team had passed the time by chatting, or rather Natalie and McGee had passed the time by chatting. Tony had completely lost his voice since leaving the ball field and Gibbs was never much of a talker to begin with. However, about an hour ago the car had grown strangely silent. All three of his agents had fallen fast asleep.

Gibbs glanced in the rearview mirror. Natalie had curled up against Tony, her head on his shoulder. Tony's head was resting on top of hers, his mouth hanging open slightly while he snored. Gibbs smiled and looked at Tim, his head resting against the glass while he took deep, even breaths. Last fall, he wasn't certain if things were going to work out, if Natalie was going to fit in with his team... now, as he watched his agents sleep, peacefully, he realized his worries had been ridiculous. In some ways, his team worked better since she had joined them and she'd certainly managed to change Tony—not an easy feat.

He knew that there were probably many obstacles ahead for all of them, but Gibbs was confident that this was the team that could face them. And they would face them, together.