“You know, constitutionally, you don’t have to take a polygraph,” said Agent Lee as she sipped her drink.

“I’d have to give up my badge,” said Tim, pointing out the obvious flaw of that method for avoiding his test.

“Yeah,” said Michelle. “But you wouldn’t have to take the test.”

Tim just rolled his eyes.

“Relax, Probie,” said Tony, grasping Tim’s shoulder firmly. “It’s not like you’ve done anything to piss-off Homeland Security. They’re probably only testing you to hide their real target.”

“Yeah right. So who’s the real target?” asked McGee, obviously not appreciating Tony’s input.

“Perhaps it’s a spy.” Ducky’s voice cut through the racket of the bar as he and Palmer showed up. Jimmy immediately stood behind Agent Lee while Tony moved to give Ducky his chair. Ducky gestured that he was fine, and turned to Ziva.

Ziva looked surprised. “What are you looking at me for?” she said indignantly. “I’ve only been accused of spying against your country once and I was exonerated.”

“Relax, Zee-vah,” said Tony lightly.

“Yes, I was only joking,” said Ducky, patting the young woman on the shoulder.

Ziva smiled. “Of course, Ducky,” she said, putting down her drink. “I think I may have had one too many tequilas.”

“Are you sure?” asked Tony as Ziva ordered a coke. “Because I was this close,” he held up two fingers a millimeter apart, “to finding out where those friction burns came from last year.”

Ziva snorted. “Please, Tony,” she said. “It would take a lot more than tequila for you to crowbar that information out of me.”

“You mean pry, Zee-vah,” said Tony, happy to be back at their old games. He had missed goofing off with Ziva during the tension that had risen between them throughout his undercover op. He was about to say more when his phone went off. He answered, noticing both McGee and Abby reaching for their phones as Palmer and Agent Lee both headed to the bathroom. “Di…Hi, Honey.” Tony stopped himself just shy of answering, “DiNozzo,” when he realized which phone he was holding. Shaking off the close call, Tony ignored Ziva’s death-glare as he spoke into the phone.

“Tony,” said Jeanne’s voice over the phone. She sounded tired and a bit choked up.

“Jeanne, what’s wrong?” Tony asked with worry. He could hear Jeanne sigh on the other end.

“I lost a patient tonight, Tony,” she said tiredly. “I don’t know what happened. One moment he was okay, and the next he was flat-lining. All he had was a broken leg!”

Tony sighed. Jeanne reminded him of how he had been when he started out as a cop. Every time he lost a witness, or couldn’t catch a killer before they struck again, he had blamed himself. “Jeanne,” he said as soothingly as he could, moving away from Ziva to a more secluded area, letting her and Ducky talk. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know,” said Jeanne wearily. “I just hate to lose patients.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “Did you contact his family?”

“No,” said Jeanne. “His sister was already here with some guy. She was definitely a junkie who needed a fix. I would have gotten her medical attention, but the guy she was with was making a scene. Security had to escort them out of the building.”

“Hmmm,” said Tony. “Sounds like you could use some cheering up, Jeanne.”

Jeanne smiled. “I’d like that,” she said. “Why don’t you come over?”

Tony looked over at his co-workers guiltily. He had promised to be there, and he didn’t think his relationship with his partner would be able to withstand him ditching her again. “I’d love to, Jeanne…” he said, regret in his voice.

“But?” prompted the young doctor on the other end.

“But,” said Tony with a sigh. “I promised my co-workers I’d go to the bar with them tonight. I’ve already canceled on them three times.”

Jeanne smiled. “Okay,” she said benevolently. “I’ll see you after work. What bar are you guys at?”

“The Weighed Anchor,” replied Tony without thinking.

“Where’s that?” asked Jeanne. “Is that a new one by the University?”

“Um, no,” said Tony. “It’s by the Navy Yard. One of my colleagues is married to a sailor.”

“Oh,” said Jeanne, surprised. “So you all go out to the Navy Yard to hang out?”

“Yeah,” said Tony, wishing he hadn’t gotten into this conversation under the influence. “He’s a great guy and we don’t get to see him that often.”

“Okay,” said Jeanne. “I guess I’ll see you later. You’ll probably just distract me from my job anyway.”

“Okay. Love you Jeanne.”

“I love you too, Tony.”

Hanging up regretfully, Tony went back to his friends at the bar. “Sorry about that,” he said as he took a seat next to Ziva.

“Who was that, Tony?” asked Ducky curiously.

Tony shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of his colleagues. He was about to give a snarky answer like he had been giving Ziva, but realized that Ducky wouldn’t take that kind of attitude. He sighed in resignation. “It was my girlfriend,” he said reluctantly, not offering any more information than that.

“More problems?” asked Ziva. The touch of malice in her voice was hard to disguise.

“Actually, Zee-vah, things are going great right now,” said Tony defensively. “But thanks for asking.”

Ziva merely scoffed before going back to her soda, seemingly ignoring him.

“Well,” said Ducky looking from one agent to the other. “I hope you’re still available to us.”

“No problem, Ducky,” said Tony with a smile. “I talked her out of a curfew tonight.” Looking around, Tony noticed that it was still just the three of them. “So, what happened to McGee, Abby, Lee, and Palmer?”

“Both McGee and Abby were called into work. Mr. Palmer and Michelle haven’t returned from the restroom,” said Ducky.

Ziva suddenly barked out a laugh. “Yes, I think Jimmy and Michelle are probably enjoying themselves. I wouldn’t expect them back anytime soon.”

Tony chuckled at Ducky’s confused look. And so the tension eased again and the conversation turned towards work and the gossip related to it. The evening wore on and kept going after everyone had switched to nonalcoholic beverages.

Several hours later, a voice interrupted their conversation. “Tony?”

Tony’s eyes widened as he turned around and came eye to eye with Jeanne. “Jeanne?” he asked, pure shock in her voice. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work until morning?”

Jeanne smiled brightly, ignoring the other people staring at her from the bar. “It was a slow night, so they let me go, and I had someone I wanted you to meet.” Grabbing Tony’s arm, Jeanne started pulling him towards the door. Tony was barely able to unclip his badge and gun and toss them into Ducky’s lap without Jeanne noticing.

After staring at each other in shock, Ziva and Ducky got up to follow the couple out of the bar. Whatever was going on, they weren’t going to miss the opportunity to observe the relationship that had created so much drama at NCIS that year.

Unaware of his colleagues’ pursuit, Tony reluctantly followed Jeanne up to a limousine. He was surprised when, as Jeanne was about to open the door, it opened to reveal an older gentleman: La Grenouille.

“Tony,” said Jeanne with a huge smile. “This is my father, René Benoit.”

Tony had no time to respond before the arms dealer embraced him. “Professor DiNardo!” he said happily. “Welcome to the family.”

From the doorway of the bar, Ziva and Ducky simply stared. Ducky turned to Ziva with pure shock on his face. “Ziva,” he whispered, eyes wide. “That’s La Grenouille!” Before Ziva could stop him, Ducky approached the vehicle, trying to get a closer look.

du

Suddenly, a resounding crunch sounded out in the parking lot as Ducky stepped on an empty beer can. The Frenchman’s eyes locked on him. “Harrow?” the Frenchman looked confused at the appearance of the man who sold him ARES.

Tony’s fake smile disintegrated at the site of his coworkers standing just outside of the bar. In that moment, he knew that all the lying and secrecy had come to an end.

“Tony?” for the moment, the young senior agent ignored Jeanne as he tried to figure out what to do.

A sudden flurry of activity erupted as a man snuck up to Ziva from a car that had been tailing the limousine and grabbed her arm. Reacting to the threat, Ziva elbowed her assailant in the stomach and pulled out her SIG. “Don’t move!” she commanded as she trained her gun on La Grenouille’s stooge.

A gunshot exploded in the ears of all present.

Ducky’s leg collapsed as a bullet ripped into his leg and buried itself in his thigh.

“The next one goes in his ear!”

Tony and Ziva looked on in shock as Trent Kort walked casually up to the group, ignoring the crowd gathering outside the bar. His gun was trained on Ducky who was squeezing his upper thigh and grimacing in pain.

Sparing a glance at the crowd, the CIA operative addressed the gathering as he flashed his badge to the crowd. “This is government business,” he said sternly. “Anyone remaining after thirty seconds will be charged under federal investigation statutes.” The crowd needed no further prompting to disperse, many casting concerned looks towards the older gentleman on the ground. Most of them doubted that this was legal, but they certainly didn’t want to get involved in it.

Knowing she’d been beaten, Ziva laid her weapon on the ground. The man lying nearby jumped up, grabbing Ziva’s gun and shoving it into her back. He wrapped his sizable arm around her neck to restrain her.

René smiled at his associate. “It’s about time. Call an ambulance for the good Englishman.” he said, ignoring the horrified look on his daughter’s face. The arms dealer gestured to Tony and Ziva. “Take them. I have grown tired of playing this game with Miss Shepard.”

Without warning, the man restraining Ziva smashed her own gun into the back of her neck, sending her reeling. Once she was down, the beefy thug ran his hands along her body, searching for weapons.

Jeanne squeaked in shock as she saw the other woman go down. She stared at her father in disbelief while Tony glared with utter hatred at the man feeling up his partner. That guy was way more thorough than he had to be.

With a grunt of triumph, the minion held up Ziva’s knife and stuck it in his own belt. A moment later, he had also acquired the back up that had been strapped to the Mossad assassin’s ankle. After one last bit of digging, Ziva’s cell phone was thrown into the parking lot. Now semi-conscious as well as completely unarmed, Ziva was unable to resist as she was dragged into the limo.

“I suggest you two follow her,” said René coldly, turning to Jeanne and Tony. Addressing his daughter for the fist time since they got to the bar, the elder Benoit took on a softer tone. “All will be explained, my dear,” he said gently. “I’m sorry you had to become involved in this.”

Unable to speak, Jeanne just nodded mutely and got into the large car. She tried to sit as far away from the injured woman as she could.

After his daughter was safely in the vehicle, La Grenouille faced Tony. “After you, Special Agent DiNozzo.”

Tony was unable to hide his surprise. He thought it was Ducky who blew his cover, but it was apparently already blown.

“Yes,” said the arms dealer. “I know who you are. And for the health of your partner, I recommend that you get in the car.”

Tony glared at the man he had dedicated the last year to bringing down, but got in the limo all the same. La Grenouille followed with Trent Kort who closed the door behind him. The goon went back to his own car to follow them.

Tony couldn’t help but think that the scene inside the limo would be great for McGee’s next book. A CIA operative, Mossad liaison officer, an internationally known arms dealer, a federal agent, and a young doctor all riding in a very nice limousine was certainly up Probie’s particular alley.

While Tony was thinking, Jeanne managed to come out of her trance somewhat. She looked around from the woman who was slumped against Jeanne’s boyfriend, to the accented man with the gun, to her father who seemed very calm throughout the mayhem of the last few minutes. It was obvious that they all knew something she didn’t. “Will someone tell me what the hell’s going on?”

Tony wouldn’t meet her eyes. The two strangers remained silent; one too disoriented to respond, and the other obviously unconcerned with her. Her father, however, gave her the same smile he had given her when she was little and asked him questions like why the sky was blue. “I’m afraid you will have to wait to hear the entire story,” said her father. “But the simple explanation is that you were being used,” he gestured to Tony and Ziva, “by these people.”

Jeanne’s eyes widened as she turned to stare at her lover who was avoiding her. “Tony?” she asked her voice trembling.

“Jeanne…” Tony started only to be cut off by La Grenouille.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak, Agent DiNozzo,” La Grenouille’s voice was still calm, but still held a deadly undertone.

“DiNozzo?” asked Jeanne, anger now added to the boiling pot of emotions tainting Jeanne’s quavering voice.

Tony wanted to say more, but was prevented from doing so by Ziva grabbing his leg. He looked down to see her shaking her head.

“Now’s not the time, Tony,” murmured Ziva quietly. Her eyes had cleared up a bit and she seemed to be regaining her bearings.

“You should listen to your partner, Agent DiNozzo,” said Trent Kort, speaking up for the first time since they’d all piled into the car. “I’m sure Officer David has had more experience in this area than you.”

Tony glared at the CIA operative. The man’s familiarity with his colleagues didn’t surprise Tony. He imagined that CIA had supplied dossiers on the top NCIS agents in case NCIS interfered with anymore of Kort’s assignments working undercover with The Frog.

“Ah,” said Mr. Benoit, smiling. “So this is Deputy Director David’s daughter. The Iranians would certainly pay handsomely to get their hands on you, my dear.”

Ziva’s head lolled over to meet La Grenouille’s gaze. “Is that supposed to be a threat, Master Frog?” asked Ziva, glaring at the Frenchman.

La Grenouille just chuckled as he looked out the window. “Well,” he said happily as the car pulled to a stop. “It seems we have reached our destination.”

Surprised, Tony also looked out the window. “The Barclay?” asked Tony as he recognized the hotel from their undercover mission.

“Great,” said Ziva as she, too, saw the five star hotel. “Our race record here sucks.”

“Track record,” corrected Tony, shooting his partner a smile. The familiarity of the conversation helped to settle his nerves a little.

Before the conversation could continue, the guy who hit Ziva and followed them in his car opened the door. Reaching in the vehicle, the minion grabbed Ziva and pulled her out of the car. Once again, her own weapon was jammed into her back.

Ziva rolled her eyes. She was getting tired of being the damsel in distress. Silently she vowed that, the next time this guy touched her, at least one of his bones would be shattered.

Inside the car, La Grenouille smiled at Tony. “Agent DiNozzo,” he said, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the door. “If you’d step out of the car, we can get this night over with.”

---

Jennifer Shepard stared out the window of her office, taking in the lights of the harbor at night. She regretted dragging Abby away from the rest of the team and making her work on her night off, but she had to know if it was true. Was her father alive?

As if that possibility wasn’t stressing her out enough, she also had to deal with the CIA. She didn’t appreciate their interference with her investigation, nor that they felt the need to harass her people because of whatever vendetta they had against her.

The buzzing of her cell phone’s vibrator interrupted her thoughts. Looking at the screen, Jen sighed. “What is it, DiNozzo?”

“Well, it seems the mission was a success, Director,” said Tony, not wasting time on a greeting.

Jen’s eyes widened. “You mean…you’ve made contact with La Grenouille?” she asked with excitement.

“Indeed he did, Jennifer.”

Jenny froze, her eyes widening at the new voice. “Who is this?” she asked nervously, sitting at her desk.

“I’m insulted,” said the thickly accented man. “All that time you spent hunting me and you still can’t recognize my voice?”

Jen’s eyes narrowed into slits. “La Grenouille,” she growled, clenching her tightly as her knuckles turned bone white.

“Ahh,” came the sigh of satisfaction. “So you do know who I am.”

“What do you want?” asked Jen sharply, already running through the consequences of Tony’s cover being blown.

“Right to the point, aren’t you?” asked the arms dealer, chuckling. “Very well, we’ll get down to business. I have in my custody two of your agents…”

“Two?” asked Jen, interrupting her nemesis.

“Yes,” said La Grenouille impatiently. “Two. Agent DiNozzo and Officer David are currently enjoying my hospitality.”

Ziva? What the hell was Ziva doing there? The situation had suddenly grown far more complicated.

When La Grenouille began speaking again, Jenny was forced to focus on the conversation at hand. “Now, as you may have figured out, I am not a fan of physical or direct violence,” said Benoit, taking on a very businesslike tone. “I have no desire to harm your agents more than necessary.”

“And what injury is necessary?” asked Jen, worrying for her agents.

“I’m afraid Officer David had to be subdued, while we were apprehending her, but she is already looking much better. Unfortunately, your medical examiner had to be taken care of more harshly.”

Jen’s eyes widened more. “What did you do to Ducky?”

“Relax, Miss Shepard. Dr. Mallard was shot in the leg, but has undoubtedly found his way to a hospital by now,” said La Grenouille in his most reassuring tone. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard from him yet.”

Just as he finished speaking, Cynthia walked in. “Director?” she asked.

Jenny turned to face her. “What is it, Cynthia?” she asked curtly.

“We just got a call from a civilian hospital off the Navy Yard,” she said urgently. “They say they have Dr. Mallard there for a gunshot wound. They say it’s minor, but they sedated him for the pain. Should I tell Agent Gibbs?”

“Get him in here,” said the Director. “I’ll tell him myself.”

“Right away, Ma’am,” said the assistant, nervous at the tone of her boss.

Once she left, Jenny went back to her conversation with the internationally known arms dealer. “That was my assistant,” she said shortly. “Dr. Mallard is fine.”

“You see?” said La Grenouille smugly. “I am a man of my word which is more than I can say of your agency.”

“How’s that?” asked Jen shortly.

La Grenouille’s tone took on a dangerous edge. “You and your agent DiNozzo manipulated my daughter to try and get close to me,” he said angrily. “She has done nothing to deserve getting involved in this mess, and I have worked very hard to keep that from happening. Now, thanks to you, I have to try and explain to her why a man was shot by one of my employees right in front of her tonight.”

Jenny scoffed. “Right, because that wasn’t the fault of you being an arms dealer.”

“I may be an arms dealer,” said La Grenouille darkly. “But doing whatever it takes to get what you want is supposed to be a part of my profession, not yours.”

“Oh trust me, René, if I were at that point, you would have been dead months ago with one of Ziva’s bullets in your brain.”

“Yes,” said Benoit. “Your medical examiner was quite the actor. I’m surprised you didn’t take the shot.”

Uncomfortable discussing her failure, Jenny changed the subject. “What is it that you want?” she asked curtly.

“I want protection from some enemies I seem to have acquired working with your CIA,” said La Grenouille in a professional manner. “And,” he said, humor in his voice. “A bottle of scotch.”

Jenny didn’t notice Gibbs come in. Her whole attention was focused on La Grenouille’s last words. “You bastard,” she said darkly into the phone.

La Grenouille just laughed. “I will call back later with details. I’ll call you at your office. It seems only fair that the government picks up the tab. Say high to Special Agent Gibbs for me, will you?” With that, La Grenouille ended the call.

“Damn him!” yelled Jen. Unable to control her rage, she threw her cell phone at the door. The phone smashed into the paneling right next to Gibbs’s head, surprising Jenny more than Jethro. “Jethro!” she cried in shock, holding a hand to her chest. “I thought I told you to stop just coming into my office!”

Gibbs looked down at the remnants of the phone calmly before turning his eyes back on the director. Taking a sip of coffee, Gibbs narrowed his eyes at his former partner. “Just responding to your orders, Director,” he said matter-of-factly. “Who was that on the phone?”

“Jealous?” asked Jen sharply. “Afraid someone else is the bastard in my life?”

Jethro raised his eyebrows slightly. Turning around, he was halfway out the door before Jen stopped him.

“Jethro, wait,” said Jenny, letting out a sigh. “I need you.”

Jethro turned and silently went to stand in front of her. “Talk,” he said simply. He already had a good idea what this was going to be about. He figured it was only a matter of time until Jen dug herself in too deep with this whole frog business.

Jen sighed. She really didn’t want to have this conversation. “We have a problem,” she said reluctantly.

“What kind of problem?” asked Gibbs, pressuring her to continue.

“The kind that involves two of our best agents being abducted by an arms dealer and our medical examiner being admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound,” she said in a rush. She then waited for the explosion. She was not disappointed.

“WHAT?” yelled Gibbs. He placed his coffee cup on the director’s desk and stalked up to her. Putting his face right in front of Jen’s, he asked, “What happened?” His voice was deadly.

“I don’t know,” said Jenny honestly. “La Grenouille just called and said he had Tony and Ziva in his custody.”

“Wait,” said Gibbs, now angry and confused. “Why was Ziva involved? Out of she, Ducky and Tony, she is the only one who’s never done undercover work with La Grenouille. Were you going for the complete set? Were you going to get McGee involved as well?”

Jen sighed once more in frustration. “I don’t know,” she said. “Whatever happened occurred when they were off duty.” At Gibbs’s incredulous look, she said, “I swear.”

“So what you’re telling me, is that my people are now in trouble because of your grudge and in a situation you have no control over?” said Gibbs harshly, zeroing a glare on his boss.

There were a couple things Jen could have said then. She could have pulled rank and told Gibbs it was none of his damn business. She could have made a speech about priorities and the risks in their line of work. But saying either would not change the facts. “Yes,” she said solemnly, lowering her eyes.

Jethro looked surprised at her admission, but it did nothing to stem his anger. “Who do you think you are?” he asked angrily.

Jen regained enough composure to respond sharply. “Last time I checked, I was the Director of NCIS, Agent Gibbs.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to abuse my agents and put them in unnecessary danger to fulfill your personal vendetta!” yelled Gibbs, his restraint gone.

Jen opened her own mouth, ready to scream back, but closed it. Taking a deep calming breath, Jenny spoke softly. “I’m sorry, Jethro,” she said quietly.

Gibbs sighed tiredly, his anger flowing out of him at the words. “Look,” he said gruffly. “We’re wasting time fighting. What hospital is Ducky in?”

“Cynthia has the address.” Jenny was pleased to be changing topics.

“I’ll take McGee and see what Ducky can tell us. I should probably take Abby too so he has some company,” said Gibbs, turning to leave.

“Gibbs!” called Jenny, stopping him from leaving. “Keep your phone on. La Grenouille said he was going to call back with the details.”

Without a word, Gibbs turned and left. Jen could hear him shout at McGee from her office. Putting a hand to her forehead, Jenny opened her liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of bourbon and a glass. Pouring, Jen went back to glaring out her window. “How did this go to hell so fast?” she asked herself as she took a long swig.

---

After La Grenouille ended his conversation with the director, he had called a meeting with his people in the sitting room of the suite. “I’ll leave you three in here to talk,” he had said smugly as he left the bedroom, leaving Tony, Ziva, and Jeanne alone. Tony and Ziva were bound to chairs with duct tape while Jeanne sat unrestrained. The only thing keeping her from leaving was the now overwhelming desire to learn what in the hell was going on.

“Agent DiNozzo?” asked Jeanne the moment the door closed, narrowing a glare at her boyfriend.

“Professor DiNardo?” asked Ziva at the same time, not looking angry so much as surprised.

Tony sighed. As if being kidnapped by an arms dealer wasn’t bad enough, he was now stuck in a room with two women who he had been lying to for the past year. “I’m dead,” he muttered to himself.

“What was that, Tony?” asked Ziva, surprising Tony with the laughter in her voice.

“Nothing, Zee-Vah,” said Tony lightly. Her tone made him hopeful that she wasn’t planning on killing him when they got out of this mess.

Jeanne just stared at the both of them. “Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on here?” she asked angrily.

“Don’t ask me,” said Ziva simply. “This wasn’t my op that blew up.”

“Op?” asked Jeanne, turning to Tony. “What is she talking about, Tony?”

Tony sighed. There would be no more stalling. “Jeanne,” he said reluctantly. “Your father is an arms dealer who does business with some of the worst terrorist organizations and corrupt governments in the world. I am a special agent for a government agency called NCIS that has been investigating him.”

Everything was silent for a moment.

Finally, Jeanne spoke up. “So, you were using me? I was just some sort of government tool?” she asked, the hurt coming off of her in waves. “I was just some sort of bait you could use to get close to my father?”

Tony’s silence was enough of an answer for her.

“I can’t believe this,” she said, sitting on the bed heavily and placing a hand to her forehead. “I think I’m getting a migraine.”

“Welcome to the club,” said Ziva curtly, wincing at the pain that sliced from her neck to the top of her head continuously.

Jeanne started. She had forgotten the other woman’s presence. “Were you in on this?” she asked harshly, eyeing the strange woman suspiciously.

“Trust me,” said Ziva curtly. “If I were a part of this, I would not be tied to a chair trying not to vomit right now.”

Tony rolled his eyes. Typical Ziva. She never did miss the opportunity to brag about her training.

Jeanne was suddenly struck by the pallor of the other woman’s skin. The doctor in her took over. She stood up from the bed and walked over to where the woman was bound.

Ziva tensed. She didn’t trust the daughter of the man who had obviously caused Jenny so much pain. “What?” she asked aggressively.

Jeanne sighed and rolled her eyes. “Look,” she said bluntly. “I’m a doctor. You’re hurt. We were meant for each other.”

To Tony’s utter surprise, Ziva didn’t retaliate. She started laughing. “Alright,” she said through her laughter. “Though I assure you, I’m fine.”

Like the trained doctor she was, Jeanne ignored the patient’s own view of her wellness and went to the task of checking for a concussion.

Ziva was actually a pretty good patient. She allowed herself to be poked and prodded and did the whole, “follow my finger” thing without complaint.

“I guess you were right,” said Jeanne as she leaned back with her examination completed. “You are, in fact, fine.”

Ziva smiled wryly at the young doctor. “In my line of work, you quickly learn how to judge the severity of your injuries. You need to know when it’s appropriate to continue the mission and when retreat is the only option.”

“Really?” said Jeanne. “And what line of work is that?”

“She’s a spy, Jeanne,” said Tony simply, obviously feeling the need to ad input.

“A spy?” asked Jeanne incredulously. “You’re kidding.”

Ziva glared at Tony. She didn’t like parts of her identity being divulged to civilians without her permission. “He’s right,” she said as she sent a death glare Tony’s way. “I am a spy. I work for Mossad.”

“Mossad?” asked Jeanne with surprise. “You mean like in Munich?”

“No,” said Ziva testily. “That operation was hardly our finest hour. My current division would never be so careless.”

“Sorry,” said Jeanne, a little surprised at the other woman’s reaction. “I didn’t realize…”

“It’s alright, Jeanne,” said Tony. “You should have seen her when I made her watch the DVD. That’s a mistake I’ll never make again.”

“Don’t worry Tony. You have other mistakes to fall back on,” said Ziva mockingly. “Like this one, for starters.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who intruded on another agent’s undercover op,” said Tony, trying to save face.

“No,” said Ziva sarcastically. “You’re the one who crossed his cover and his agency. Tony DiNardo and Tony DiNozzo should never have been in the same place at the same time.” Ziva paused in her rant before cracking a small smile. “And I thought Mrs. Doubtfire was one of your favorite movies.”

“Oh, you mean how Robin Williams kept having to improvise excuses for why Mrs. Doubtfire and who he actually was were always together, but never seen together?” asked Jeanne, her eyes lighting up.

“Yeah,” confirmed Ziva. “You’ve seen it?”

Jeanne smiled nostalgically. “It was one of my favorite movies as a kid.” She paused before continuing. “Tony and I watched it on our second date.”

Ziva nodded sympathetically. “I’m not surprised,” she said dryly. “Dating Tony must be like dating a movie critic.”

“Or a film professor,” said Jeanne bitterly, glaring at Tony.

Tony gulped painfully as an uncomfortable silence fell on the group.

---

“Jethro! It’s about time!” Ducky’s reproach was welcome to Gibbs’s ears as he and McGee walked into the hospital room.

“Sorry, Duck,” said Gibbs as he sat in a chair beside his old friend’s bed. “We just found out.” He smiled. “But we made up for it. Abby’s waiting for us to finish up and then you two can talk science or tell stories, or whatever you two do together.”

“Oh how delightful!” said Ducky enthusiastically. Since the team had stopped doing as many on ship investigations, he and Abby hadn’t really had time to spend together.

“What happened, Ducky?” asked Tim from his position in the doorframe. He was uncomfortable in hospitals, and he wasn’t really sure what he was doing here. Gibbs had given him a vague outline of the situation on the way to the hospital, but Tim was still utterly confused.

“An unfortunate incident with our good friend La Grenouille, Timothy.” Ducky’s usually pleasant manner darkened as he mentioned the Frenchman. He looked at Gibbs seriously. “Apparently, our lovely director and young Anthony were still keeping secrets from us.”

“What do you mean?” asked Tim, shock on his face.

“What I mean, McGee, is that Tony was doing more than spying on La Grenouille’s employees.” Ducky’s voice was bitter. He resented being lied to. “He’s been dating his daughter.”

Gibbs’s eyebrows shot up. McGee’s eyes looked like they were desperately trying to escape the confines of his face, they were so wide.

“Excuse me?” asked McGee, blatantly displaying his incredulity.

“Tony’s girlfriend came to the bar to introduce him to her father. The man she introduced Tony to was La Grenouille.” Ducky spoke plainly, an odd departure from his usual rambling nature.

While McGee was still digesting Ducky’s words, Gibbs pushed the conversation forward. “What happened to Tony and Ziva?” asked the team leader sternly. Now was not the time for emotion. He’d wait until he had his agents back and safe before tearing into them.

Ducky sighed remorsefully. “I’m afraid I am partly to blame what happened.” The medical examiner fastened his eyes on his lap in a rare show of vulnerability. “When Tony’s mysterious girlfriend showed up out of the blue, Ziva and I were naturally curious. So, we followed them outside….” Ducky paused, his gaze hardening. “When I saw La Grenouille, I stepped out into the open. He spotted me, recognized me, and the whole evening went to hell when our spook friend, Mr. Kort, shot me,” the Englishman spoke bitterly. “Some goon incapacitated Ziva and she and Tony were taken away in La Grenouille’s limousine while I lay bleeding in a parking lot.”

Gibbs sighed and leaned back in his seat. “I don’t suppose they told you where they were going before they made their getaway, did they?” he asked ruefully, glancing at Ducky out of the corner of his eye.

Ducky shook his head, eyes downcast. “I’m afraid not, Jethro. La Grenouille didn’t afford me that courtesy.”

Gibbs ran a hand down his face. “You said they incapacitated Ziva. Did she look like she needed emergency care?”

“Fortunately not.” Ducky met Gibbs’s eyes again. “She just appeared to be a little out of sorts. The blow was meant to stun, nothing more. They are both fine.”

Both McGee and Gibbs looked relieved at the reassurance of their colleague.

McGee turned to Gibbs, hope in his eyes. “So, they’re alright,” he said eagerly. “La Grenouille isn’t going to kill them, or he wouldn’t be taking care not to harm them.”

“It’s not that easy McGee.” Gibbs’s voice was grim. “La Grenouille didn’t have to take Tony and Ziva. He already knows what we know, and he could have easily incapacitated them at the scene and made a getaway if he wanted.” Gibbs suddenly stood and began to pace agitatedly. “He’s not desperate; he’s in control. Tony and Ziva are only alive so he can have his fun.”

McGee looked nervously from Gibbs to Ducky and back again. “So, what does that mean?”

“It means, Timothy,” Ducky muttered darkly, “that it is no skin off of Master La Grenouille’s nose if either of them die. If one of them rubs him the wrong way, they have a good chance of getting killed.”

“I thought that wasn’t La Grenouille’s style.” McGee still looked doubtful.

“Yeah, well our director has changed the rules,” growled Gibbs, heading for the door. “Come on, McGee!” he called back. “We have work to do.”

Not a moment after the two men left did Abby come rushing in. “Ducky!” she cried, quickly engulfing the Scotsman in a hug. “Are you okay?”

Ducky put on a reassuring smile. “Now that you’re here, my dear,” he said before giving the forensic specialist a kiss on the forehead.

“What happened?” Abby looked at Ducky’s leg in slight horror.

Ducky sighed. “Honestly, I think it is up to Director Shepard to share that information with us.”

Abby’s eyes lit with sudden understanding. “The Frog.” It wasn’t a question.

Ducky nodded in confirmation. “The Frog.”

---

“We’ve got to get out of here.”

Ziva glared at her partner. “Thank you, Lieutenant Obvious,” she remarked snidely, shifting into a more comfortable position.

“I think you mean ‘Captain Obvious’, Officer David.” Jeanne spoke up from where she sat on the bed.

Ziva just rolled her eyes before wiggling around some more. “Instead of correcting my English, do you think you could get us out of these chairs instead?” she asked tautly.

Before Jeanne could respond, the door opened admitting her father. “Why would she do that, Officer David?” he asked in the condescending tone that Ziva was beginning to think was some odd form of speech impediment.

Ziva glared at the arms dealer. She stared him straight in the eyes with a strength that few other than Ziva could maintain.

“What?” La Grenouille cocked his head to the side in a mock hurt manner. “Have I said something to offend?”

“You don’t need to say anything when your actions turn stomachs on their own, Frogger.”

La Grenouille turned sharply to face Tony who looked quite satisfied with his comment. “I would tread carefully if I were you, Agent DiNozzo.” La Grenouille nodded to his thug. In the blink of an eye, the hulk drew Ziva’s gun from the back of his belt and had it pressed against her head. “It is not just your life at stake here.”

Ziva’s face darkened into a scowl, as the muzzle of her own weapon was pressed into her temple. She refused to be a damsel in distress any longer. Taking a deep settling breath, Ziva leaned forward in her chair enough for her feet to touch the floor.

Just as quickly as the gun had been placed to her head, it was sent flying across the floor as Ziva smashed the chair she was tied to into the minion. The man careened into the wall before slumping to the ground, his leg twisting awkwardly underneath him and sending him into unconsciousness as it broke under his weight.

The force of the motion combined with the weight of the chair ripped the duct tape from the back, freeing Ziva while the chair flew into Trent Kort. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed La Grenouille eyeing the gun. They locked eyes.

Both lunged for the firearm at the same time.

---

“This looks like the spot, Boss,” said McGee as he held up a swab with a positive test for blood.

“Get a sample. We’ll test it against Ducky.” Gibbs looked around the parking lot. Picking up a smashed cell phone that looked like NCIS issue, Gibbs sighed. “They didn’t leave us much to work with here,” he grumbled. “McGee!”

The junior field agent jumped to his feet. “Yes Boss?”

“Shoot and sketch as quickly as you can. Then we’re going to go back and check out limousine companies.”

“Limousine companies?” McGee confused for a second before comprehension showed on his face. “To see if we can find La Grenouille’s car,” he said, nodding.

“Yep, and when that doesn’t work, we’ll try something else.”

---

“Don’t move”

La Grenouille stepped back from the angry Mossad officer, as her reclaimed weapon was pointed directly between his eyes.

“Now, Officer David, are you really going to shoot me?” the arms dealer asked, his usual confidence only slightly damaged.

“You haven’t given me a reason not to,” said Ziva, watching out of the corner of her eye as Kort tried to stumble to his feet. Slowly, Ziva maneuvered herself, so La Grenouille was between her and Kort in case the CIA agent pulled his weapon on her.

Jeanne stood frozen next to the four-post bed staring at the gun leveled at her father. She and La Grenouille locked eyes for a moment. La Grenouille smiled slightly, and turned back to Ziva. “You wouldn’t shoot a father in front of his daughter, would you?”

Ziva seemed to contemplate the arm’s dealer’s words for a moment before her eyes turned icy again. “A father like you is not worth mourning,” said Ziva harshly, her eyes glinting like hardened steel. Her finger twitched on the trigger guard.

---

“Have you heard from the Frog again, Director?” asked Gibbs coldly as Jenny came down the stairs from her office.

“No,” said Jenny frankly, ignoring the chill in Gibbs’s tone. “And that’s starting to worry me.”

McGee looked shell shocked. “Do you think something’s gone wrong?” Tim’s fear was obvious.

“McGee, get back to work.” Gibbs headed towards the elevator, motioning for Jen to follow him. “The Director and I are going to have a little talk.”

McGee dipped his head in confirmation before going back to checking names on limousine rentals.

Gibbs and Jenny stepped into the elevator. As was expected, the moment the elevator doors shut, Gibbs reached over and flicked the emergency stop switch.

As the room went dark, the two turned to each other, staring each other down with the same intensity they used on murderers and terrorists. It was the director who backed down first.

“You can’t pin this on me, Jethro,” she said, looking less convincing than she sounded. “I have no idea what’s going on right now.”

Gibbs’s glare just intensified. “You forgot the part where this whole La

Grenouille mission was to satisfy your need for revenge, Jen.”

“Gee, Gibbs, I’m sorry for trying to put an arms dealer behind bars.”

“At what cost, Jen?” growled Gibbs angrily. “Manipulating a young woman to get to her father? Putting my agents in danger?”

“Every agent who takes this job knows the risks,” said Jen sternly.

“That doesn’t give their director the right to gamble with their lives, Jen.” Gibbs leveled his stare at her. After he was sure she was significantly uncomfortable, Gibbs continued. “Look, we’ve already had this conversation. I want to know why we haven’t heard from the Frog yet.”

Jen sighed. “I think Tim might be right,” she said sadly.

Gibbs nodded. “Something went wrong.”

Jen continued. “Hopefully in Tony and Ziva’s favor. But,”

“If it had, you think they would have called by now.” Gibbs finished her thought for her.

Flicking the switch again, Gibbs and Jen stood silently as they waited for the elevator to open again.

The moment they got out, Cynthia called to them. “Director, you’ve got a call.”

---

A blinding pain struck Ziva as a lamp was smashed into her spinal cord. The Mossad officer was sent careening into the wall before crashing to the ground. As she fell, the gun went off once before she lost her grip on it.

“Jeanne!” Tony cried out as his girlfriend stood over his partner, broken lamp clutched tightly in her hands.

The young doctor turned watery eyes on Tony. “Sorry, Tony,” she said softly. “He’s still my father.”

“I knew I could count on you dear,” said La Grenouille as he pressed a palm to his head, fresh blood seeping between his fingers.

“Daddy, you’re bleeding!” cried Jeanne as she went to her father, checking him over.

“I’m fine, darling.” La Grenouille grunted as his daughter gently prodded where the bullet had grazed his forehead. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Well, it’s a scratch I’d like to get looked at,” said Jeanne.

Before any further comment could be made, Trent Kort stalked up to Ziva who had made it up to her knees, picking her up by the throat and smashing her back into the wall.

Ziva swung her leg, hooking it around Kort’s, pulling it out from underneath him, and sending them both crashing to the floor again.

Both spies rolled, easily regaining their feet, and stared the other down.

Ziva moved first, throwing a right hook just to have it blocked. Her arm was forced to her side as Kort manhandled it before throwing a punch of his own.

Ziva ducked the blow, thrusting her left fist into Kort’s stomach while he kept hold of her right. The CIA agent bent over slightly from the blow, causing Ziva’s arm to twist even more uncomfortably.

As she was distracted by the pain in her arm, Kort brought his elbow up and slammed it into Ziva’s back in almost the exact same spot Jeanne had hit her with the lamp. Ziva cried out as the blow knocked her flat on her front.

Kort didn’t waste time tacking advantage of her prone position and picked her up from the floor only to throw her violently onto a glass table causing it to shatter.

The moment she hit the table, a white hot flash of pain told Ziva there was something really wrong. More pain burrowed into her back as Ziva fell hard on a shard of glass. Another grotesque piece was buried in her side between her stomach and hip.

Tony stared in shock. At first, the whole spy fight had been cool. It was like being in a James Bond movie, but now…. He managed to look away from the gruesome sight of his partner lying with blood gushing from her as pieces of glass rose jaggedly from her body.

As Ziva failed to rise, Kort took out his gun, seemingly intent on finishing her off, only to be stopped by La Grenouille.

“That’s enough, Kort,” said the arms dealer as his daughter clutched his arm. “The neighbors probably heard the table shatter, and we need to get out of here.”

The CIA agent looked hesitant, but eventually put his gun away. Going over to the still out-cold goon, Kort pulled one of the minion’s arms over his shoulder, hefting him onto his back. Kort strode angrily out of the room, not waiting for La Grenouille to follow.

“Come on, Jeanne,” said La Grenouille gently. He used one hand to press against his wound while the other was wrapped around his daughter’s waist.

Jeanne slowly nodded. The past few minutes had asked a lot of her nerves. Still clasping her father’s arm, Jeanne left the room with him.

From the bedroom, Tony could hear the heavy hotel room door close. Squirming, Tony tried to loosen the duct tape. When that didn’t work, he tried to inch his chair closer to his partner’s body.

Tony had only made it a foot when he heard the door open again. His movements had left his back to the door, so he didn’t know who was coming in. He stopped moving, afraid it would somehow encourage whoever was coming back to finish the job.

His eyes widened in surprise when he felt his bonds being cut. The moment he could move his torso, he whipped around coming face to face with Jeanne. “Jeanne!”

Jeanne didn’t look at him as she finished sawing through the duct tape with a steak knife she must have taken from a room service tray. Once finished, she moved to leave the room, but Tony grabbed her arm.

“Jeanne, wait.”

“I can’t, Tony,” she said, pleadingly. “I have to go help my father. I just told him I have to say goodbye.” Jeanne pulled away again, this time making it to the door before Tony got up and grabbed her again. “Tony, I can’t…”

“I know.” Tony interrupted her. “Just tell me how to help Ziva.”

Jeanne sighed, looking at the prone form that hadn’t moved since it hit the ground. “Without surgery, there’s not much you can do,” she said finally, looking Tony in the eye. “Just keep her warm and try to stem the blood flow. I wouldn’t recommend taking out the glass. It’s actually helping to slow the bleeding.”

Tony nodded, and with those words, Jeanne Benoit walked out of the room, and out of Tony’s life.

Tony took only a moment to process the loss of the woman he loved before a harsh gasp centered him on what he had to do. “Ziva,” he muttered, running over to her, allowing shards of glass to dig into his knees as he knelt beside her.

Ziva’s eyes were wide open, her mouth forming an O as she tried to draw in breath. “Tony,” she managed to wheeze, her hand haphazardly reaching toward her partner’s face.

Tony gently took her hand in his, placing it on the side of his face. “It’s alright, Ziva,” he said gently. Keeping her hand there, Tony twisted around, reaching to grab the cover from the bed, pulling a couple pillows down with it. One handedly, he shook the pillows out of their cases.

Reluctantly, he placed Ziva’s hand back down at her side, so he could wrap a pillowcase around the shard of glass protruding from her side.

Biting his lip, Tony leaned down to whisper in Ziva’s ear. “Ziva.” He called her attention gently. “I have to turn on your side now. Okay?”

Ziva nodded tightly, and Tony carefully wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him revealing what looked like just a tiny sliver imbedded in her back. “Oh,” said Tony, his eyebrows raised. “That doesn’t look so bad.”

As he went to wrap a pillowcase around it, however, he got a closer look. “Oh my God.” The statement came out with a gush of air as Tony pulled a little at the skin around the glass. It wasn’t a small shard; it was huge. Most of the glass was buried deep in the flesh of Ziva’s back, leaving only a small fragment visible.

Tony wrapped the pillowcase around the sliver as gently as he could, wincing every time Ziva flinched. When he was finished, Tony put his face right in front of Ziva’s, staring her in the eyes.

“Ziva,” he whispered, gently shaking her when she gave no indication of noticing his face right in front of hers. When her eyes finally cleared, Tony continued. “This isn’t good.”

“No shit, DiNozzo.” Ziva’s choked voice was soft, but clear enough to be heard. “What was your first clue?”

Tony almost smiled. Ziva never did pass on the opportunity to throw an insult his way.

Gently, he pulled the coverlet he’d pulled from the bed over her, trying to avoid the glass. “Don’t worry, Ziva. I’ll take care of you,” he said as soothingly as he can.

For a moment, Tony sat, his mind swirling as he tried to figure out what to do next. Suddenly, his eyes found the phone by the bed.

“Idiot,” Toy muttered, promising to ask Gibbs for a head slap the moment Ziva was safe.

---

“Boss, I’ve got ‘em.” McGee stood from his desk, grabbing the remote and bringing a limousine registry up on the screen as Gibbs made his way back to the bullpen. “La Grenouille’s limousine service. A car was signed out this afternoon. I put out a BOLO.”

“Good work, Tim,” said Gibbs, not looking up from his computer screen.

An insistent ringing had Gibbs reaching for his phone. “Gibbs,” he said tersely, ready to tell off any yahoo who thought it would be a good idea to assign his team a case at the moment.

“Boss, it’s me.”

“Tony?”

Tim stopped typing immediately when he heard the senior field agent’s name.

“Yep,” said Tony over the phone. He sounded exhausted.

“Where the hell are you?” asked Gibbs anxiously.

“Hospital, Boss.”

“What?”

“Yeah, we’re uh…Ziva’s…she,” DiNozzo uncharacteristically stuttered.

“Ziva’s what DiNozzo?” demanded Gibbs. He understood his agent was probably under a lot of stress right now, but now was not the time for it.

Gibbs could hear Tony’s sigh over the phone. “Ziva…she’s not good, Boss.”

Gibbs sighed heavily. “What hospital are you guys at?”

“University,” said Tony, and odd note in his voice.

“That’s where Ducky is, too,” said Gibbs, mostly to himself.

“Really,” asked Tony. “Is he alright?”

Gibbs smiled a little. “He’s fine. We’ll be right there, Tony.”

“Okay, Boss.” With that, Tony hung up.

“Was that DiNozzo?” The Director’s voice anxiously came from upstairs.

“Yeah,” said Gibbs tersely. He was still angry with her. “He’s at the hospital. Something’s wrong with Ziva.”

Jen nodded. “I know,” she said. “That was Trent Kort on the phone. He said La Grenouille was injured in a scuffle with Ziva, and she was badly wounded because of that.” Jen’s face hardened. “They left her and Tony at the Barclay Hotel, so they could get La Grenouille taken care of.”

“I don’t suppose he mentioned the part where he was the one who shot Ducky,” said Gibbs as he stood, holstering his weapon. He motioned for McGee to do the same.

“No, he didn’t,” said Jenny. “He was also unclear as to the extent of Ziva’s injuries.”

“Shocking.” Gibbs started heading towards the elevator, McGee following close behind. “Coming, Director?” he called back.

Jen was already halfway to the stairs when Gibbs called to her. Without missing a beat, she did an about-face calling out to Cynthia where she was going, and joined Gibbs and McGee in the elevator.

---

“Did you make the call, Kort?” asked La Grenouille as he sat patiently while his daughter wrapped his head in some bandages they’d picked up at a drugstore as the rode in his limousine.

Kort nodded. “While Gibbs and Sheppard are busy looking after their agents, we’ll fall off the grid.”

“Good work, Kort.” La Grenouille winced as pressure was applied to his head.

“We should really stop by the hospital, Dad,” said Jeanne as she tried to be more gentle with her ministrations. “I can pick up some antibiotics and pain relievers from the pharmacy, and a splint for your man, there.” Jeanne gestured to the still unconscious man slumped next to Kort.

“No,” said La Grenouille forcefully. “It’s too dangerous.”

“So is letting that wound fester, Dad,” replied Jeanne just as forcefully. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“Jeanne.” Now La Grenouille’s voice was pleading. “You assaulted a federal agent, and if she dies, you could face murder charges.”

“YOU DON’T THINK I KNOW THAT?!” Jeanne’s voice was turning hysterical. “I’m a doctor, Dad. It’s my job to help people, not hurt them. So please, at least let me do my job now and get you the medication.” By the end of her little tirade, Jeanne’s voice was choked with tears.

La Grenouille took a long look at his daughter. Her eyes were glassy with tears, and she looked horrible. The night had damaged her, and La Grenouille was afraid that it would become permanent if he didn’t grant her this one request.

“Very well,” he said at last before instructing the driver to take them to University Hospital.

“René,” began Kort, before being cut off.

“If you have a problem, Mr. Kort, I can have you dropped off at the front gate of the Navy Yard instead. I’m sure NCIS has quite a bit to say to you.” The finality in La Grenouille’s tone stopped any further argument.

Silence reined the rest of the way to the hospital.

---

“DiNozzo!” Gibbs called out to his senior agent as they spotted him sitting in a waiting room down the hall.

The agent’s head snapped towards his boss’s voice. “Boss!” he called back, standing as quickly as the lacerations on his knees would allow. “You made it.”

“Of course I did, Tony,” said Gibbs with uncharacteristic gentleness even putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. Looking his senior agent directly in the eyes, he asked the burning question. “What happened after you guys left Ducky?”

Tony let out a gust of air. “La Grenouille took us to the Barclay Hotel.” Tony smiled wryly. “Things never do go well for me and Ziva there.”

Gibbs nodded, letting his senior agent ramble. They all remembered the near disaster when Ziva and Tony went undercover as married assassins at the Barclay.

Tony took the cue to continue. “We spent most of the time tied to chairs in a room with Jeanne…La Grenouille’s daughter.”

“I’ve told him about the mission, Tony,” said Jen, cutting off Tony before he explained further.

Tony glared at her before continuing. “Right, so the three of us talked, then La Grenouille came back in, and Ziva freed herself.” Tony had to pause for a moment before continuing. “She managed to knock one guy out with the chair as well as knock Kort on his ass, and she had La Grenouille at gun point….” Tony stopped. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell them Jeanne’s role.

“Then what, Tony?” asked McGee from the corner of the room.

Tony sighed. Now was not the time to withhold information. “Jeanne hit her with a lamp.” Seeing his fellow agents staring at him, he hastily continued. “But only to protect her father. Really, she’s not a violent person or anything.”

“It’s alright, Tony,” Gibbs reassured. “Just tell us what happened next.”

Tony’s jaw clenched as he thought of what happened next. “Trent Kort grabbed her. The fought, and he threw her onto a glass table.” Tony gulped uncomfortably before continuing. “Then they just left us there. If Jeanne hadn’t come back in and untied me…”

Gibbs knew what came next. “She might have died.”

Tony nodded.

“How bad is it, Tony?” asked Jenny quietly.

“Pretty bad, Director.” From Tony’s tone, Jen guessed he was another agent not ready to forgive her for this mission. “Some of the glass went in really far. The doctors are giving her a forty percent chance.”

A grim silence settled over the group at the proclamation.

Suddenly, Tim’s phone started ringing. Pulling it out, he quickly answered it. “McGee.” Everyone watched as McGee’s eyes widened as he listened.

“Who was that?” asked Jen after McGee hung up.

McGee turned to stare at Gibbs. “Our BOLO came in on that limo, Boss.”

Gibb’s eyebrows shot up. “Where is it?”

“Here.”

“At the hospital?” asked Jenny, her eyes wide.

McGee nodded. “South entrance.”

He had barely spoken the words when Tony set off running, his legs carrying him hastily through the hospital despite the stinging wounds.

The other three were quick to follow, Jen kicking off her heels to keep up with the men.

---

La Grenouille watched anxiously as his daughter went into the hospital. “Kort,” he said, turning to his associate. “Go with her, make sure she’s alright.”

Kort nodded and got out of the car.

La Grenouille waited until he saw the CIA agent enter the hospital before pulling out a bottle of cognac and a glass from the mini bar under the seat.

Pouring himself a glass, he looked at the unconscious man with disgust.

“It is a shame I’m not sharing this with better company.”

---

Jeanne looked anxiously over her shoulder at the man her father had sent to watch her as she waited for the pharmacist to get the medication she asked for. His capacity for violence made her nervous.

“Here you go, Dr. Benoit,” said the nurse at the pharmacy, giving Jeanne a big smile as she handed over the medication. “You’ll have to go to the ER to get a splint, though.”

Jeanne smiled tightly. “Thanks, Martina.”

“No problem,” said the bubbly woman. “You must be on that new case.”

Jeanne cocked her head to the side. “What new case?” she asked.

Martina looked surprised. “Didn’t you hear?” she asked. “A couple of federal agents just came in. One of them had a piece of glass stuck in her so deep it almost went through.”

Jeanne’s and Kort’s, who had heard the conversation, eyes widened.

The CIA agent quickly approached the desk, grabbing Jeanne’s shoulders. “We have to go now,” he said, ignoring the confused gaze of the pharmacist.

Jeanne nodded, and the two quickly headed for the exit.

Just as they made it to the doors, Tony came bursting out of the emergency stairwell doors followed by three others that Jeanne assumed were his co-workers.

“Tony!” cried Jeanne.

“Jeanne!” Tony called back.

Gibbs leveled his weapon at Jeanne and Kort. “Freeze!” he commanded.

A deafening boom suddenly assaulted the ears of all five as La Grenouille’s limousine exploded.

Jeanne stared at the smoldering wreck that was her father’s car. “Dad,” she said breathlessly as she stared at the inferno. She didn’t even react as McGee came up and gently handcuffed her. All she did was stare unblinkingly into the flames.

---

The next few weeks went by both incredibly quickly, and agonizingly slowly for Tony.

Abby had found out that the components of the bomb that blew up La Grenouille’s car were the same found in several other murders of arms dealers. It seemed the Frog had been a victim of his own criminal activity.

No criminal charges had been filed against either Jeanne or Trent Kort.

Gibbs had been furious when he heard the CIA had gotten Kort out of prison, but his anger abated slightly when he heard Kort was being reassigned to a wilderness outpost in Siberia to use his knowledge of arms trading to watch out for Russian nukes. At least the bastard wouldn’t be living the high life he had with La Grenouille.

No one objected to Jeanne’s exoneration. Most of them understood what she had gone through, and they knew that she was just protecting her father.

It seemed like it had only taken moments for an entire year of undercover work on Tony’s part to completely unravel.

Every night, however, he went to sit at Ziva’s bedside at Bethesda after she was moved there. Time seemed to crawl to a stop as he waited for her to recover. The doctors had managed to stabilize her after a marathon surgery, but she had yet to completely regain lucidness. Her doctor said it was due to the massive blood loss and painkillers.

Still, Tony took what he could, and he showed up every night on the off chance that Ziva would have a good night and actually be able to carry a conversation.

It was during one of these conversations that they finally addressed what had happened.

“You know, Tony,” said Ziva. “I don’t blame you.”

Tony looked up surprised from the small cup of ice cream he’d requisitioned from the cafeteria. “For what?” he asked, hoping the conversation wasn’t going down this path.

“You know what,” she said patiently. “Believe it or not, I have had to lie to people I care about to maintain a cover. And, yes, that has occasionally caused problems for them.”

“Did you ever get any of them impaled on a glass table?” asked Tony darkly.

“No,” said Ziva simply. “But I have gotten them caught in a cross fire.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” said Ziva, looking out the window. “My third deep undercover assignment. Tali was only thirteen and we were out on the town when my mark spotted me.”

“Wow,” said Tony. “That had to be scary.”

Ziva nodded. “For a moment, I thought I had signed my sister’s death warrant.”

Tony looked her in the eye. “How do you deal with it?” he asked.

Ziva sighed. “You either harden your heart, or quit.” She gave her partner a significant look when she said the last part.

Tony seemed to understand. “Don’t worry, sweet cheeks.” The classic DiNozzo smile was back. “I’m never playing Trading Places with you again, David.”

“Oh, I saw that one!” said Ziva excitedly.

The rest of the evening was spent talking about what Eddie Murphy movies were the best.

Eventually, wounds both physical and emotional healed. Many had left scars, but even those often fade with time. The major case team of NCIS would face many more battles, and be scarred again. That was their job. If they couldn’t survive it, someone else would have to in their stead. That’s why they’re the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. Their job was to serve, even when it meant giving of themselves.

END

Well, that took forever to write. At least it’s all over now. I know; the ending’s corny as hell. I was feeling preachy.

Thank you for reading! Hopefully my next story will have more Abby in it.

Peace,

Hobbit Killer