Author's Note: Beginning with Vance, very excited to be writing this! Will go through each character. I will try to update regularly. I hope you enjoy!

Ziva made her way up the steel stairs, her running shoes making almost no noise. Funny. She was used to hearing the click-clack of her boots against the metal when she had made her way to the director's office before. This time however there was no uniform requirement. No need for a baseball cap, slacks, an embroidered NCIS jacket. No need for any of that anymore.

It was morning, and surprisingly, the Navy Yard and offices were quite empty, although she knew Vance would be present. She had seen McGee's computer was still off, and there was no take-out containers or empty coffee cups to indicate Tony had stayed late last night and his desk was much too neat for him to have come in this morning. Besides, she was sure she was an earlier riser than he.

She had reached the door and with a slight hesitation knocked. "Come in."

She pushed open the door, stepping inside to the dimly lit office that Vance could usually be found in, signing off cases and dealing with other tedious director's duties, such as informing Gibbs he could not in fact legally hit suspects during interrogation, no matter how bastardly they were. These types of duties often included reminding Gibbs a warrant was required to enter premises, and that no, in fact you could not simply shoot someone because they talk too much (this threat was usually aimed at Dinozzo). Often Gibbs reacted, as he usually did to everything: silently.

She remembered Jenny, and how Jenny Shepard, the director of NCIS, had defended her and supported her when she'd first arrived. How she'd given Ziva the opportunity to prove to the team she wasn't simply Mossad; she was an NCIS agent. This office was where Jenny had given her the opportunity to join NCIS. To join this family. For that she was extremely grateful.

"Ziva," he nodded a greeting and gestured to the chair across from his desk.

"No thank you," she said. Brief would be better. "I wanted to come in and say goodbye. My flight leaves tonight."

Vance nodded. "It has been quite a pleasure having you here, on the team," he stated, and although he sounded quite professional there was an undertone of gratitude and care. "We appreciate and will miss you, Agent David."

She smiled, content to hear the title of agent, although she no longer held it. "Thank you." She paused.

"For allowing me the freedom, although perhaps it was against the law, to hunt Bodnar." Another pause. "I greatly appreciated that action and that choice, on your part."

Now it was Vance's turn to pause before speaking.

"I want to thank you, Ziva. You did something I could not do, and in doing what you did you gave me the ability to move on. I know that bastard got what he deserved. I'm healing now. I can be a better, less distracted, less . . . raw father to my kids knowing he's gone."

Ziva nodded, remembering that horrible, horrible night. Her father and Vance's wife, dead. Her journey to Europe, with Tony by her side to find Bodnar, only to return to the United States after finding his brother and realizing Bodnar himself had remained on American soil, to getting smashed by his car, as she and Tony clung to each others' hands but to no avail, to have him use her honor against her, luring her into a fight of hand-to-hand combat because he knew she would not shoot him in the back. But he was dead.

She let out a breath. The whole thing felt surreal in a way, but the dull pain that still returned every so often in her shoulder reminded her it was real. As well as her relationship with Tony. That had changed massively, and yet she still couldn't quite pinpoint how or what had exactly changed. It was just different, perhaps more so in subtle ways that no one noticed except them two.

She realized she'd been quiet for a bit too long. She gave Vance a tight-lipped smile and he held out his hand. "Best of luck to you. I hope we cross paths again," he said, although as they shook hands it felt much too serious for a temporary goodbye.