Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS, Ghost Ship, or Titanic. Although there is a shiny new donkey for whoever brings me the head of Colonel Montoya. (That was a Simpsons quote.)

Well, I do these based on flashes of inspiration. Which is what I got. About 3/4 of my fics are based on songs, which are usually kind of the inspiration. This is no different :D

I'm not sure about this, I don't know whether to do another chapter or whether this is enough...please let me know what you think!

And no this isn't a ploy to get more reviews. Much. }:)

He tries not to think Titanic as he steps off the chopper in front of his boss. As other agents spill out into the darkness of the deck he has to shout to reach Gibbs.

"You think they're armed, boss?"

Despite pulling out his Glock, he seems calm and shouts into the salty air, "Well if they are, they don't seem to have a problem with an armed federal copter landing on their ship." Dumb question, Tony decides. "That intel from Mossad didn't report any life signs on the ship, it's all we have to go on."

Even under a lifejacket and 3 months of built-up emotionally protective shell, the word Mossad is a pang to his heart. Luckily the roaring in his ears is so loud that he can't hear her voice in his head as he has done since May, but the cold hollow of the sea around him bears a disturbing resemblance to the cold and dark hollow he's been in recently. The hollow that Gibbs has had to deal with, the hollow that McGee has tried to dodge falling into. Unfortunately, he fell in the moment that plane took off the concrete.

"Hey," Gibbs snaps his fingers in front of his junior's face, something that's replaced the slap. "Come on."

It's then that he realises that they're the only people still on the deck next to the silent chopper, and he takes a quick glance up at the stars as his boss leads him inside the ship. For the past two summers he's been confined to some stupid ship in some stupid way or another, and he has grown to hate the inside. The low ceilings and tiny doorways that made him feel the entire thing was closing in on him, and the water drips that convinced him the cursed ship was sinking. Sort of like the feeling he's had for every mound of paperwork 'bestowed' upon him ever since she left.

She left.

He's still not really sure it happened. Not sure that she won't arrive one morning and sit at her desk, and start unpacking everything again. Or maybe that was only in his dreams?

"Hey!" His boss obscures his vision once again. "You can wait by the chopper if all you're gonna do is stare into space."

It takes a few seconds to get back to reality. "Right. So...ok. Where we going?"

Pulling out a torch, Gibbs pulls back a bolt and opens the door, revealing tunnels and doors pitched in blackness. Only a few calls between other agents around the ship and the quiet sound of waves can be heard – it's a big ship. Everyone's spread out. His brain switches to Ghost Ship, and he wonders why his boss has to make it even more eerie by whispering when there's clearly no one here.

They walk for about 200 metres through damp and dark and drips when Gibbs stops abruptly, only a flash of silver hair to the torch-bearing agent behind him, and opens a door to an office-style cabin with space for a laptop and papers spread over the desk. It smells obscenely of sweat and Tony reels, grateful as Gibbs closes the door.

"Terrorists. Somalian. Mossad were right."

Mossad were right.

Not a phrase he's used to hearing lately. Not a phrase he particularly wants to hear in the future.

Something strikes him and Gibbs' eyes widen as they turn down a corridor.

"You hear that?"

Gibbs places a finger to his lips, and they listen.

"Crying."

And the running begins. Sprinting inside ships, Anthony DiNozzo's year-old way to get tired and sweaty in less than five seconds. Especially in a lifejacket that makes you look like a marshmallow. They run down slippery steps and along torch-illuminated corridors, going further until his boss, in true bloodhound-style, can trace it to one room. He doesn't bother with the bolt – kicks it hard and it smacks open. Shining a light into the dark, he makes out the beaten, sobbing face of Agent Chad Dunham.

"Shit."

Tony panics. What to do? Gibbs stands in the doorway motionless. Pushing past him is no option. Call backup? They would need backup. But what backup? Medical? Other agents? Where were the meds anyway? Were there any on the chopper? What about the chopper driver? Was he a med? His name was Eddie, wasn't it? How does he call someone?

"DINOZZO!"

Gibbs is inside, pulling the ropes off Dunham's hands and checking his face and wounds. "Call for meds. Tell 'em lower 678. I want you to check all the cabins along this corridor, then the cabins below. Anything you find, shout."

He makes the call, and takes a deep breath as he listens to Gibbs fire gentle questions and receive croaky responses. He makes his way down the corridor, sliding more doors open, but finds nothing but empty beds and stacks of paper. He doesn't even look in as he pushes the last door open. He sees the same darkness of every cabin, and deciding not to waste more torch battery, assumes it the same as all the rest, and turns to leave. As he ambles down the damp void once again, something makes him stop.

A sound.

A sigh.

A sign of life.

He can't take the chance of whoever it is being on his side, so he slowly and silently turns round and pulls his gun out of his holster, holding it next to his source of light. He shivers as the ship creaks.

What meets his eyes makes him drop his gun.

As if his faith in Mossad could get any worse.

It is her. He can tell her face and her beautiful tangled hair – she's as battered as Dunham, and he's too scared to venture any closer in case...in case what?

At least...she's not dead. He knows that. He kneels down to the level of the chair she's in, brow furrowed, and shines the torch up to her face. It's beaten and burnt, but it is her. He could swear his heart is in his mouth, and the lonely stubble on his chin bristles as claustrophobia kicks in.

His mouth catches up with his brain as he raises a hand to her face.

"Shit...Ziva..."

Another chapter? OOC?