A/N: *checks over shoulder* I'm gonna tell you a secret guys. But it's a secret. So you can't tell, ok? Ok. I JUST STOLE THE RIGHTS TO NCIS! So now, everything and anything I want is going-wait. did you hear that?

*random voice* Well, I'm glad we put the fake right in the safe since some dumb ass stole it! Thank God for Mr. Krabs and his ideas for keeping the secret crabby patty recipe safe!

*Me again* Damn. Just kidding guys. I guess it still belongs to the actual guy that owns it…. *sigh*

_NCIS_NCIS_NCIS_NCIS_NCIS_NCIS_NCIS_NCIS_

Ziva came to slowly, her head feeling like it was filled with bricks. She blinked her eyes open, attempting to look at her surroundings, only to close them again as dizziness set in. She shook her head, trying to clear it slightly. Her eyes squeezed closed then opened again, blinking in surprise as double vision slowly blurred into one, bringing the world into focus. Ziva glanced around, finding herself strapped to a chair with hands tied together behind the chair, legs roped to the legs of the chair. She bit her lip, barely stopping a moan from exiting her mouth.

"Well well, our favorite Mossad agent has risen again." A voice sneered from behind Ziva, startling her.

"Face me like a man, do not hide in the shadows!" She called out defiantly in an attempt to use the distraction as an opportunity to work her hands loose.

"You little bitch!" A hand came flying at her face, leaving nothing behind but a bright red mark and pain. She turned her head back to face the front, finally seeing her captor.

"Rahman." She spit out, feeling blood flow from her split lip.

"Good to see you know my name little bitch." He sneered, taunting her with his eyes as he stood in front of her. "We're getting somewhere."

Ziva glared defiantly back, eyes daring him to come closer.

Abdul moved back a couple steps, starting to trace a path in the dust covered floor as he paced back and forth. "I must have been sloppy..." He muttered to himself. "How did you find me out?"

Ziva set her mouth in a line, determined to give him no answers. At the same time she worked to free her arms from their restraints, slowly, hoping the combination of friction and force would snap the rope.

Her captor looked up from his thoughtful pacing. "Not going to answer me little bitch? We'll soon fix that." Leaving the threat hanging, he left the room. A door slammed, ringing through the small room.

"How could I have been so stupid!" Ziva muttered angrily to herself, not even attempting to hide her blatant attempts at freedom. Soon enough her arms were covered in sores, but bit by bit the rope was fraying, giving her more room to move her wrists. Ziva quickly gave herself a once over, allowing herself to feel the pain in almost every muscle of her body. This time a small moan did escape, the pain seeming to radiate through her body in waves, washing through her until it was all she could think about. What had happened to her? She didn't remember a fight, or a beating, so what had happened? Ziva shook her head, it was useless, trying to get her brain to remember any more from her previous drug induced haze. Her thoughts drifted to Tali, once again pondering the whereabouts of her MIA daughter. Where could she have possibly gone? There was no one that she knew of to go to, at least, not in Britain or Israel. She had never met her grandfather, and hopefully she never would. She could have gone to Jenny, but why…?Tali had said she had a mess to clean up, but what mess was that? There were no messes concerning Jenny, and the person closest to Jen was Gibbs, with whom Tali had no argument.

SLAM

The loud, reverberating noise jerked Ziva out of her racing thoughts. Slow, steady footsteps approached her and Ziva sat up straighter, pride pushing away the searing pain she still felt.

"Has the pain hit you yet my little ninja?" Abdul Rahman sneered, eyes leering at Ziva. "We had a rather bumpy ride in that bag over here, didn't we?"

So that was why every muscle in her body ached. But in answer, Ziva did nothing but pinch her mouth into a tighter line. She would not give this bastard the satisfaction of seeing her pain.

"Still not talking? I warned you about this Ziva, we're friends here, and friends talk." He punctuated the word talk with a slap to her face. Ziva bit her tongue as the stinging slap hit, leaving a red mark to match the previous slap.

"Why am I here?" Ziva spit out, venom lacing her words.

"Ah, ah, ah," Abdul tisked, "We're friends Ziva, but I ask the questions here. And you provide me with answers. So tell me, has the pain hit yet?"

Ziva glared, once again becoming a mute.

Then Abdul was next to her face, a knife pressed to her still stinging cheek. He pressed, puncturing the skin. Ziva hissed. "Has. The. Pain. Hit." Abdul growled, dragging the knife down her cheek slowly, grinning maniacally as a ribbon of blood followed his path down.

"No." Ziva told him defiantly, biting down harder on her tongue to force back the screams threatening to escape. Maybe it wasn't her smartest move ever, but this man was pissing her off, and she would like nothing more than to take that knife from him and slit his throat. The only way she could possibly see getting away was to egg him on until he was furious. That also put her life in serious danger, but what was life without a little excitement? Ziva steeled herself internally, resolving to be stronger than she ever had before, to never appear weak, no matter how bad things got.

"No? Then I must be failing at my job!" Abdul shouted, angrily slashing another line into Ziva's cheek as the sheer fury flashed in his dark eyes. He watched her face for a reaction, anything at all, but Ziva's face was infuriatingly blank. He utter a guttural yell, throwing a hard punch at Ziva's right eye, swearing profusely at the pain radiating up through his own arm. Ziva choked back a scream as he stood there, jumping around like an idiot, holding his arm that moments ago had given her a splitting headache and a sure bet at a very black eye. So much for a bad ass torturer. The man could talk the talk but when it came to violence, the only thing he seemed to be sufficient in was wielding his knife. Ziva had the clear advantage. She could fight her way out of here without a problem, that just left freeing herself from her restraints and getting the chance to attack with some amount of surprise.

"How does it feel now little bitch? Anything? Or are you truly the robot I hear you are?" He taunted her, waving his bloodied knife and hand in front of her face.

Ziva gave him a look, a look so fierce it would have scared even Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Abdul took an instinctive step back. "Well little bitch, since you can't even hold a decent conversation with me, I'll leave you to your thoughts. And I'll leave this as a small reminder of just how much stronger I am." He wiggled the knife in her face, taunting her once again. Abdul stepped back a couple feet then placed the knife on the ground, eyes never leaving Ziva's face, with a sneer plastered across his own.

"Fuck you." Ziva spit, hissing at the pain talking caused her still bleeding cheek.

Abdul gasped mockingly, "She speaks! And such a pity, as I am on my way out. I wish you the best of luck. Layla tov metuka." His voice floated down to her as he walked up the stairs and slammed the door once again.

Ziva shuddered, letting her head fall. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. But there was absolutely no way she would let this opportunity pass her by. The knife was only a few feet from her, and freedom was within her reach. All she needed now were her hands free. With renewed vigor she forced herself upright and once again returned to her slow fraying of the rope. After what seemed like hours, the rope finally stretched to where Ziva could remove her hands. A hard yank and they were free. That only left her legs. The knots were far too difficult to remove by untying, so her only option was the knife that lay out of her reach. Ziva thought for a moment. If she knocked over the chair and caught herself, she should be able to drag herself to the knife, but the catching part would be tricky. There was no guarantee she wouldn't break something, and that would considerably hinder her escape. But there was no other option. So she did what she had to do. Leaning forward Ziva squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before they popped open as her palms hit the hard concrete below her. Letting out a sigh of relief, Ziva began the agonizingly slow journey to the knife. She winced at the slight dragging sound that was coming from some part of her own body or the chair scraping against the ground. Just a couple more inches...there! It was in her grasp! Ziva smiled in victory, instantly regretting it as her cheek complained once more. She made quick work of slicing the ropes from her legs and wrenched herself upright, despite the aches wracking her body. Stealthily she slunk across the room she was being kept in, to the window high on the wall. She would have to stand on her chair to get through, and even then it would be just out of reach. Then there was the slim possibility that she wouldn't even fit through. Shrugging Ziva dragged the chair to the window, climbed on, and jumped. Her fingers grabbed at the ledge, somehow finding a hold. The ledge was small, but if Ziva tried, she would fit. Once on the ledge, Ziva slammed the pointed end of the knife against the glass, effectively shattering it with a loud crash. She didn't wait around to see if Abdul had heard or not. Ziva levered herself up and out of the window, dropping softly onto the grass below. She was free.

A/N:

Well… I have nothing to say except… AN UPDATE? WHAATT? Hopefully I'll start updating this again, but I'm not sure :/ Inspiration struck but life is busy…so busy. It's not super long but.. it's better than nothing ;)….that's what she said. Anyways, please review! Comments, questions, concerns. Gosh I feel like a teacher. OH WAIT! IMPORTANT THINGY/MESSAGE HERE! I had someone say a long time ago in a review that if the timing in the story was accurate well.. let's just say Gibbs would probably be dead.. but for the sake of this story.. .everyone's pretty much the same age. Ish. I dunno, they're not all really old but they've aged a couple of years. Use your imagination ;)

END OF RAMBLE.

Review?

xx

Paris