"…and I just want to say that we all wish you the best of luck in your new venture," Ziva said before the beep of Tim's voice mail signified that the time for her message had run out. Her voice was shaky, her eyes full of sadness, but she meant the words she said. Honest she did.

"So I wonder who it'll be next year."

She flipped her phone closed and looked at Tony. He was still seething with anger. She wondered what Tim would say to see the older agent who had made such a spectacle of tormenting him day out and day in now ruing his sudden departure. "Who what will be?"

"Who'll leave," he said snidely. "Seems like we can't keep the team together for more than a year. By my count, Gibbs and me had one, you and McGee have had two. Maybe Abby next time? Or maybe Ducky will retire. What do you think?"

"Tony, McGee did not leave. He…he just transferred."

"He left! And I hope he likes it out in L.A." Tony said with no sincerity. "It's just the place for a guy like him, huh?"

"No need to be angry."

"I wonder if he knows Abby cried," Tony continued without acknowledging Ziva's statement. "Wonder how it'll feel for him to have that on his conscience."

"Is this how you reacted when I stayed in Israel?" she snapped, her ire now matching his. Ziva didn't like Tim's absence any more than anyone else, but she understood. Sometimes, there were things a person needed to do. It wasn't always the popular choice, nor did it always make everyone happy. "So anyone who tries something new it a traitor to NCIS, Tony?"

"If he cared he would have stayed, Ziva! We didn't choose our reassignments when Vance doled them out. McGee chose this, though. He chose to leave!"

"Stop being so selfish! Can't you for once be happy for someone else, even if it's not what you want?"

"Hey!" The voice was gruff and stern and echoed through the squad room. Gibbs stood there, coffee in hand, glaring at the two of them the way a parent glares at bickering children. "I can hear you both down the hallway. This is not a high school, this is a federal agency, so I expect my team to behave with professionalism. Is that understood?"

They nodded mutely.

"I don't want to hear anything more about McGee and L.A. We all have our choices to make and he's made his. Now we've got a case to solve."

******************************

Up in his office, Vance's speaker came to life with a harsh crackle. "Assistant Director Rowan is on line two, sir."

Vance thanked his secretary and picked up the phone. "Rowan," he greeted with a grin as he gnawed his toothpick. "How are things down in sunny L.A.?"

Gregory Rowan had usurped Vance's duties after he had been made the new NCIS Director. He oversaw the L.A. headquarters.

"Just fine, Vance. How's Jackie?"

"She's just fine. Took the kids to Florida for a week. They're visiting her parents."

"And you're stuck in that stuff office?"

"Duty calls, Rowan. I'm sure you know all about that."

Rowan laughed. "I certainly do. Now I'm calling about your e-mail…"

******************************

Tim had arrived and obtained his luggage from the carousel. His phone was still off; he planned to avoid the inevitable for as long as he could. He walked through the crowd and smiled in relief. At the end of the baggage claim area was a muscular man holding a sign reading "Timothy McGee." He'd been told that someone would pick him up at the airport.

"You Timothy McGee?" the man asked as Tim approached.

"Last I checked," he quipped. "Here and ready to report for duty. Though, if possible, I'd prefer to drop off my things at my hotel." He was still apartment searching and had reserved a hotel room for the time being.

The man smiled—a mouth full of white, shinning teeth—and stepped to the side, stretching his arm out towards the door. "Let's get to it, then!"

******************************

"Do you think he'll came back, Tony?"

"I told you, I don't know, Abbs."

She pouted. Her cheeks were still stained with tears and runny mascara.

"I hope he does."

Tony was silent for a moment.

"I hope he does too, Abbs."

******************************

"What e-mail would that be?"

"Well, I just got in this morning from my own vacation week and there was e-mail from you saying your Agent McGee had accepted the position with our OSP team."

Vance grinned proudly. "I'm sure you'll find him a great asset to the team."

******************************

The man led Tim outside to where a black van with dark windows was parked. The man took Tim's bags and loaded them into the back before opening the door for him. He slid in and buckled himself in.

Once he was settled in, he extracted his cell phone from his jeans pocket and turned it on. He waited for it to fully boot. He had four voice mails, just waiting for him to listen to them.

It was time to face the music.

******************************

Ziva gave Tim's abandoned desk and mournful look. She had suspected, of course, particularly after the discussion they'd had over drinks the week before. She had tried to convince herself that he would never leave.

You can always catch a plane back, she had told him. She had meant that.

She shook her head. L.A. wouldn't work out for him, she decided. He would be back.

******************************

"I don't doubt that Vance. I didn't have the pleasure of meeting him, but the team was quite taken with him. I've no doubt they would love to have him join the team."

"So it's approval all around," Vance said, not certain where Rowan was going with this.

The other line was silent for a moment as Rowan tried to best orate his problem. "Vance…I never sent you a message about an opening on the OSP team…"

******************************

Before he could press the button for his voice mail, a hand came up from behind his seat and covered his nose and mouth with a damp rag, pinning him back to his seat. The rag smelled sickeningly sweet.

He struggled to free himself, but the hand held strong. The tinted windows hid his struggle from the people outside.

His mind grew hazy.

******************************

"Get McGee on the phone!" Vance shouted. He had burst from his office like a bat out of hell and was taking the steps two or three at a time.

"I've already tried to call him," Ziva said. "His phone was turned off for the flight."

Gibbs saw the panic in the director's eyes. It made his gut churn. "Vance?"

Their eyes met. Vance bit down hard on his toothpick.

"I have reason to believe we were led astray."

******************************

Tim felt himself succumbing to the darkness. His muscles went limp and he melted into his seat like ice cream. His hand—the hand which was holding his cell phone—fell to the side and the phone slipped from his grasp.

It hit the ground ringing.

On the display screen it read Gibbs.

Tim didn't see the name. He was out like a light.

AN: That's the end of this story. Don't worry, though! I'm already working on a sequel. There's no way I could leave you guys just hanging like that! Thanks for reading this one and keep an eye out for the sequel!