Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of NCIS, or the story lines that I cannibalize to set the scene for my own story. I do, however, lay claim to my own imagination and musings…

A/N: Yes… I know – so many of these. But, this is my take on things and I wanted to get this story out before the season premier. And, have you noticed something? Gibbs' little sojourn to Mexico – four months; the team was split up, four months; which is kind of where I got the idea from. Hope you enjoy and please let me know if you want to see more – 'cos I have the whole story in my head, that will (hopefully) play out differently to the other stories, and which I would love to share with you.

Chapter one: Four months

Three pm. The time his life changed. He remembers glancing at his watch shortly after he heard the words drip out of Gibbs' mouth. A force of habit really, rather than conscious thought.

At 2.59, he was the same as he had always been, the overgrown frat boy who was trying to find his way, but at 3pm – it all changed.

At 3pm, he became responsible, honorable and strong. At 3pm, he lost the dejected, heartbroken being he had become, and instead, stood tall, shoulders broad, his back straightened. This, he thinks, he can do something about, will do something about. This is his time.

It has been four months to the day since they left her in her homeland, standing on the Israeli tarmac. Questions in her eyes, as the warm sun beat down on them.

They hadn't spoken since she tripped him up outside the glass building, rage burning hot as she pulled her gun, the words ripping from her mouth unbidden, uncensored, as she pushed the loaded weapon first against his heart and then against his knee.

Did she realize what she had done in that single action? As she marched away, the determined, dedicated soldier she was, he pulled himself into a sitting position, catching sight of his reflection in the mocking reflective panels. Dozens of his own image stared back at him, his dejected, humiliated, broken form - and they took pity on him.

He didn't say good bye to her, he didn't know she was staying. Just picked up his bag, made some inappropriate comment that he knew would offend, and once he was sure that his outward armor was still intact, he marched towards the open carrier.

It was only as he sunk into the jump seat, did he allow himself the staggering breath that he had been holding since their arrival in Israel the day previously. He didn't know then that she wasn't coming home. Just expected she would. Didn't question it at all, really. And he laughed at his own absurdity that he couldn't rationalize she wouldn't come home with him, that she was home already.

It's been four months since Gibbs looked deep into Ziva's eyes. Brown eyes that didn't waver when she told him she couldn't trust Tony any more. The hot Israeli sun, burning his scalp through his thinning hair as he tried to decipher what exactly it was she was saying. Words such as "trust" and "you of all people understand" floated through the air.

Her tone, her wording carefully schooled, but her eyes – they begged and pleaded with him. It's those eyes that wake him in the middle of the night, a wet sheen of sweat coating his body. Did he do the right thing leaving her there, or did he sign her death warrant? Should he have done something, insisted she come home? Or was this the destiny she needed to fulfill. Either way, every day for four solid months, he beat himself up.

It has been four long months that Abby has moped, sulked. Questioning constantly if they had heard from Ziva, when was she coming home and why it seemed that she had fallen off the face of the earth? Four months that every time her lab doors slid open, she had that expectant look, only for it to drop off her face seconds later. Four months where she tried so hard to be supportive of Tony, only to allow the pain and blame to seep through her pores as the after work drinks loosened her tongue.

Four months that the rest of the team, waited, patiently for Ziva to return to her senses, or at least simply return.

Four months that every time Tony's mobile rang he hoped it was her, and when it didn't, he sat, staring at the blank, silent screen, willing her to call.

But she didn't, couldn't.

Gibbs would call it his gut, Abby would say it was hinky – either way – when they hadn't heard from her after a few days, Tony started his own investigation.

Yes, she was irate, furious, enraged even with him.

But the others? She would have made contact with Abby, said goodbye if nothing else.

Vance called him in, stood over him as he slouched in the chair. Told him in no uncertain terms to back the hell away. That if he cared for his Mossad partner at all, he would leave it alone – particularly if he wanted to see Ziva again – breathing.

Didn't take to well to that order. Simply peaked his curiosity. So he slunk around, trying to get McGeek and his band of merry cyber men to quietly hack into her mobile phone records, her email – anything he could think of.

And so, he was bundled off to a conference in Russia for a week, no roaming on his phone, no internet connection. Talk about being sent to Siberia. Some may say this assignment was an honor, a privilege, but Tony saw it as punishment. And in a way it was, the only way Vance could think of to keep Tony's interfering out of it, before he did something they all regretted.

Gibbs, on the other hand, couldn't agree with Tony more. The fact, that he had been told to lay off, made his gut rumble and curdle. He knew Ziva could take care of herself, hell she had been doing so quite well for 30-odd years without any interference from him or Tony for that matter. And, hell knows what kind of situations, predicaments and so-called missions she had been sent on prior to them meeting her.

He knew she and Jen had been in some sticky situations, he remembers the stories Jen told him, her long red hair splayed out over her naked back as she shared the tales of the Mossad operative.

A dreamy look on her face, made Gibbs think that she had an extremely vivid imagination, until he met Ziva himself, of course. And then, he realized, those stories of valor and death were quite believable.

He chuckles to himself. Hard to think of Ziva as a stone cold killer, as she lay, her head on Tony's shoulder, her NCIS cap off center, snoring lightly after a long, hard case.

Shaking his head, he stops his musings. The direct order not to engage, the smatterings of conversation that he sat with from both Vance himself and SecNav, made him think that there was a lot more to this whole situation.

Made him contact some of his old marine buddies, a couple of guys who owed him more than a few favors. Amazing what saving a life or two in combat can do for you, and he was more than willing to collect. Carried out his own covert operation without the rest of the team knowing.

Vance called him in a few weeks back. Suggested quietly, through gritted teeth, that he should leave the hell alone. But, did reveal they believed she was somewhere in Somalia. That he was on it, but any ham-fisted operation that went storming in, would certainly result in death for all involved, including the one they wanted returned.

So Gibbs backed off and did something he wasn't comfortable doing – he waited.

The call came through late last night; a crack team had infiltrated a suspected Hamas cell a few days previously. Turns out to be more complicated that previously thought. Put a bit of a spanner in the works, that did. They had managed to rescue three people, but, unfortunately, none matched the description of the one NCIS were looking for.

It was a few hours later, as Gibbs sat in the darkened bullpen, that he received the information he was waiting for. One of his old mates contacted him through MTAC. They had recovered a dark haired woman two weeks back, barely breathing. She had muttered something indistinguishable when they rescued her, and hadn't regained consciousness since then.

They suspected she was the wife of a businessman, kidnapped and being held for ransom. But this Intel proved to be false.

And now, the marine wondered, could this be whom Gibbs was searching for?

The grainy photographed flashed onto the screen. Closed, bruised eyes and pale skin, but most definitely Ziva. "How could you not know this is who we are looking for?" grated Gibbs through tightly clenched lips. "We sent her photo out."

"Well, to start with, this one is pregnant."

Vance and Gibbs exchange startled looks. "She is definitely ours," Gibbs responds, recovering first. "When can you get her stateside?"

"She is on her way, should be with you by midday tomorrow," was the reply. "But, you should know, it doesn't look good. Docs here reckon that she is out cold, don't know if she will wake up, or even if she will want to. The bastards who had her, worked her over pretty good. But don't worry; they won't be bothering anyone again."

And with this, the screen goes black. Vance and Gibbs leave the room. "Guess you better call the team in. When's DiNozzo due in?" Vance asks. "He's going to want to know about this."

Gibbs just nods. "Should be arriving late afternoon."

Entering the bullpen, Gibbs sees the sun beginning to rise. It's going to be a long day. He makes the call. Asks McGee to pass on the message to Abby and then calls Ducky himself. He is going to need his whole team for this one.

They come in drips and drabs, concerned looks plastered on their faces, trying to be brave but all a little scared. There has to be a reason Gibbs has called them in this early, and they doubt its good news. Abby's mascara is already streaked across her eyes, she swipes again at the tears that threaten, hanging delicately on her eyelashes, like dewdrops on spider webs.

They hover around Gibbs, waiting for the explanation that is sure to come. "There's some news." Gibbs utters, looking at the expectant faces. "It's not entirely bad, but not entirely good…"

"Well, spit it out man," Ducky utters, uncharacteristically brusque for him.

Gibbs gives his old friend a sideways glance before continuing: "As I was saying. Ziva has been found, alive – for now. But they don't know if she will make it. She is being airlifted to Bethesda and should be here within a couple of hours. We don't know much about her status, except that she has been badly beaten, tortured…" He breaks off as he sees the troubled faces, Abby now openly crying, rubbing her torn sleeve over her face.

"There's more." He takes a deep breath. "We don't know the full details, but the marines who rescued her say that she is pregnant."

A ragged sigh echoes through the quiet room, and Abby takes a deep, shuddering gasp: "Did they… was she… how did she…"

"We don't know Abs," Gibbs replies quietly, cutting her off before she can fully voice her concerns. "We will know more once our doctors examine her."

Ducky is up and almost at the elevator by the time Gibbs catches up to him. He raises an eyebrow. "I may be a mere medical examiner, but I do have some knowledge and clout, Jethro. I am going to the hospital. When I have some information I will let you know." And with that, the elevator closes on Gibb's startled face.

Turning back to the team, he says: "Right, we have work to do. Let's find as much as we can."

"Has Tony been told?" McGee asks quietly, almost plaintively.

"I have left a message on his phone. Told him to contact me immediately. He is due in later today. So let's get cracking. Hopefully we will have more information to give him."

Tony was currently on route home, stuck a thousand of miles above with no way of contacting him till he landed. And when he did, the news they would be giving him, wasn't good. Wasn't good at all.

A few hours later, the lift doors open, revealing a smiling Tony. "I got your message Boss, you found Ziva – where is she, is she here?" He asks looking around frantically. Sees the worry on Gibb's face, the dejected look on Abby's.

Gibbs glances over to Tim. "McGee – found out that info I requested yet?"

"Aaghh. No Boss, on it boss," McGee buries his head again and begins tapping furiously on his keyboard. Abby moves to his side to help him. Giving the impression of privacy in the open office space.

"What you not telling me Boss? I'm a big boy, I can take it. Ziva get married without telling us?" Tony half chuckles, sitting heavily in his chair as he tries, unsuccessfully, to pull up his mask of bravado.

Gibbs takes a deep breath; this is going to be a hard one. He moves over to the younger man's desk, leans over. "Tony, we have found Ziva. She is being examined at Bethesda as we speak. Ducky is there with her. But Tony, it's not good, she is not good."

Tony shakes his head, trying to clear the information. Gibbs straightens.

"There's an added complication, she is in a coma. And she is apparently a good few months pregnant, which means it didn't happen while she was captured."

At this, Tony's face visibly pales; he sinks back into his chair, the smile that had been hovering, slips away.

"I don't. I don't believe it." He whispers, shaking his head.

"What, that Ziva could possibly get over her infatuation with you long enough to have a relationship? Not that hard to believe after all, she was dating Rivkin," smirks McGee, earning a head slap from Abby who shushes him. "Inappropriate?" he asks looking up at her – "I was just trying to lighten the mood."

Tony is about to lunge at McGee, when Gibbs' phone rings. "Right, thank you. We will be there shortly." He puts the phone down, looks over to McGee. "Tim," he says quietly. "Anything on that info?"

McGee swallows hard; he can still feel the cold green steel of Tony's eyes burning into him. "Aah, yes. He, um." He swallows visibly. "ICE has Rivkin arriving just under six months ago. Six weeks before Tony sh…, before his death."

Gibbs turns and looks hard at Tony. "How long Tony," he questions, his voice low, controlled.

"How long what?" Tony replies. Not entirely sure what Gibbs is getting at, his mind still trying to make sense of what has happened to Ziva, desperate to go and see her.

"Don't play dumb with me DiNozzo. How long?"

Realization floods Tony. "Aaaah, on and off for the last few years. Started just after our undercover mission as married assassins. Been more off than on lately. My being involved with Jeanne, and of course Rivkin, kind of put a dampener on things."

Gibbs nods thoughtfully. "Uh-huh… and the last time would be?"

At this, Tony's face grows hard. "With respect, I don't know of what importance this would be to you. We kept it out of the office. " he spits out.

Gibbs' phone rings, and he answers it as Tony glares at him angrily. "It's most definitely her. She is in a coma – and Jethro, she looks to be about eight months gone. She is resting comfortably; her broken bones have been set. The baby's heart beat is strong, but they are planning to do an ultrasound to make sure everything is okay," reports Ducky.

Thanking him, Gibbs puts the phone down and looks over to Tony.

"I'm gonna ask you again. When was the last time?"

Tony sighs. "Bout seven or eight months ago. She started acting weird, pushed me away. Then Rivkin reappears on the scene and I guess I got my answer."

Gibbs clicks his tongue. "That's about right – Ducky has just confirmed it. Ziva is almost eight months pregnant. Congratulations Tony, Looks like you are going to become a daddy."

Tony glances at his watch: the time has just ticked over to 3pm.