Disclaimer : CBS still owns everything. I intend no copyright infringement. Just playing around.

Author's Note : Since the last update, I'd like to thank everyone who's read, favorited and followed this story. I'd also like to thank Trinityboobear, DS2010, ytteb, Gottahavemyncis, Precious Pup, jmsings, victoriantealady, star7k and HSMSupernatural for the reviews. I appreciate the time that you've taken to let me know what you think.

So I'm a day late on the epilogue. Thought I was done with it, but I had a tad bit more editing to do. It's also much, much longer than intended.

As for McGee's report about Hanrahan, I wasn't sure about that reaction but when I wrote it, it felt right for the character and the ordeal. So hopefully, no one found it too off-base.

Well, last chapter. Let's get on with it...

-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-

Monday, October 23, 2006 - 11:08am - Fulton County Medical Center, McConnellsburg, Pa. -

"Are you almost done yet?" Special Agent Timothy McGee whined as he sat in a chair in his hospital room. Behind him, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo busied himself with styling the younger man's hair with some sort of product that felt like shellac and smelled like flowers.

"Almost, Probster. Quick your belly-achin'. I'll get you home soon."

It had been nearly an hour since the floor physician in the small hospital officially discharged McGee. Since then, a cleaning crew had stopped by four times in trying to turn the room over only to find DiNozzo readying the junior agent for the car ride back to Washington.

McGee should have known there would be a problem when he asked Tony to pick up some clothes for the ride back to DC. Expecting jeans and a T-shirt, he was gobsmacked when his senior agent returned with a new, sharp black suit. Despite pleading with DiNozzo to return it, his senior agent had shaken his head and asked if Tim would rather wear the stiff scrubs that the hospital provided. Grumbling, the junior agent knew he was stuck with the suit. He only hoped that he'd have enough in his bank account to repay Tony.

Though now, he hated to admit that DiNozzo might have been right. He felt put together, almost comfortable in the new black wool outfit that encased his body. The crispness of the light green shirt contrasting with the dark green tie gave him a punch of confidence. Hard to believe, he'd just spent a week split between a dirty cabin and hospital bed.

With a clap of his hands, DiNozzo signaled that he was finished. Standing, McGee checked himself out in the mirror and took everything in. The neatly styled hair and suit almost detracted from his healing black eye, myriad of cuts and the sling his right arm was nestled in. Almost. As he smiled, it pulled the cut on his lower lip tight.

"When you look good, you feel good," Tony exclaimed in a strange accent and Tim raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Probie! It's Fernando Lamas from Saturday Night Live. I know it's TV, but come on!" Grinning apologetically, McGee simply shrugged.

As he looked back in the mirror, McGee suddenly felt nervous. The clothes were too nice and there was no way he could afford them. Maybe he'd be better off in the hospital scrubs anyway. "Tony, I can't afford these. Maybe we should take them back."

"Don't worry about it, Probie."

"No, really," McGee awkwardly started trying to pull off the jacket. "I can't afford this."

"Remember that extra shirt you keep at the office?" McGee nodded. "Well, you don't have one anymore. Call it even." As he opened his mouth to protest again, DiNozzo raised a hand to signal the end of the discussion. "We'll call it even, Tim."

"Thanks. Maybe we should go?"

"Sounds good, McGoo." As DiNozzo gathered his and McGee's belongings, Tim stood in the doorway and held his small bag with discharge instructions and prescriptions.

When they moved into the hallway, the pair found Gibbs leaning against the far wall. "Took you two long enough." Glancing at his agents, the team leader did a wide-eyed double take at his youngest one and stared daggers at his senior. Tony let out a laugh when Gibbs pointed at Tim. "Don't get used to it, McGee."

"So we're going with you, boss?" DiNozzo asked.

Gibbs shook his head. "I'm heading back with Abby. She's already in the car. Something about needing to get back to the lab so she can run a blood sample." Rolling his eyes, he passed the keys to his senior agent. "This is gonna be fun. DiNozzo, you stay with McGee until he's okay to be on his own."

"Got it, boss.

"Glad to have you back, Tim." Gibbs nodded before heading down the hallway.

"Come on, McFancyPants." DiNozzo gave Tim a hard slap on his back. "Let's go home."

-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-

1:35pm - Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, Va. -

As he pulled the Charger into the austere cemetery, DiNozzo couldn't help but feel gratuity towards the hundreds of men and women who laid down their lives to protect their country. Taking in the uniform white headstones, he glanced nearly a hundred yards away at a small, ongoing burial ceremony.

In the passenger seat, his partner was dozing, comfortably propped up against the window. "Wake up, McGee. We're here." He gave the younger man a shake.

Tim emitted a small yelp and sat up, blinking owlishly. Looking around, he appeared bewildered. "Where are we, Tony?"

"Arlington National Cemetery," DiNozzo stated, nonchalantly.

"Tony? Why are we here? Can't we just go home?" McGee moaned, voice dangerously near a whine. "I want to go home."

Pointing at the ceremony down the grave site, Tony asked. "Do you remember when we interviewed Leah Wilkowski's roommate?" Screwing his face in anger, the junior agent nodded. "You gave her your word that we'd arrest the man who killed her. Well, we did. So I thought you'd like to tell her in person."

"Come on Tony. I'll call her tomorrow. Can't I just go home today?"

DiNozzo frowned and looked out the driver's side window. "Tim," he said, low and serious. "I made the same promise you did once. When I was a uniform in Peoria, I promised Officer Martin's wife that I'd find his killer. To this day, the case is still open and his children don't know who murdered their father. You have a chance that I didn't." Glancing at McGee, their eyes met before Tony averted his gaze. A quiet sigh from the passenger let him know that there was no more protesting. "It also doesn't hurt that the roommate's pretty cute!"

"Look, I'll just go tell her. Then we can go?"

As McGee started to climb out of the car, DiNozzo grabbed his arm. Still feeling oddly sage-like, he offered his junior agent one more piece of advice. "Let whatever happens happen. Don't hold out for someone who might not be waiting like you are. I'll be here when you're ready to go."

Releasing his grip, he noticed the heartbreaking look on his junior agent's face. McGee nodded his agreement to DiNozzo and climbed out of the car.

As he watched the younger man walk down the cemetary, he couldn't help but feel proud of the younger man. Picking up a woman at a funeral? That was in the advanced section of the "DiNozzo Guide on How to Deal with Women." Hell yeah, Probie.

-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-

1:47pm - Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, Va. -

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, McGee paused by a tombstone and fixed his tie as best he could one-handed. Reaching into his pocket, he removed his badge and clipped it to the breast pocket. He smoothed his suit jacket and watched the small crowd at the funeral several yards away. Surprisingly, the turn out was lower than he would have expected. A handful of people and a Marine guard were present. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw DiNozzo in the car who motioned him forward his hands.

Closing his eyes and turning his head skyward, McGee let out an exasperated sigh before approaching the funeral again. He'd kick Tony's ass later.

When he got to the edge of the burial, a bugle man began to play Taps and he bowed his head like everyone else. As it ended and the group began to disperse, he saw an older couple who resembled the victim and assumed them to be her parents. They sat in folding chairs, clasping each other tightly, and McGee felt a lump rise in his own throat.

"I didn't expect to see you here," a female voice said behind him.

Turning around, he saw Emma Watson, red-eyed and smiling slightly. Her dark brown, pixie-cut hair and black shift dress billowed as a sudden blast of wind blew through the cemetery. Standing tall, McGee pulled out his ID and flipped it open. "Special Agent Timothy McGee. I came to inform you that we've arrested the man responsible for Leah's murder. He confessed and is awaiting sentencing."

As tears began to run down her face, she grinned broadly. "Thank you. Thank you." She let out a sob-laden hiccup. "I saw what happened to you on the news. I'm so sorry." Hiccuping again, she rubbed a tear from her face. "I never thought you'd be able to - . I never thought you'd come tell me in person. Thank you for finding who killed Leah."

Extending his hand to put on her shoulder, she misinterpreted the signal and wrapped her arms around his chest. Deciding not to correct her, he managed a one armed hug as she sobbed into his shoulder.

As McGee rubbed Emma's back, he felt something burn like fire in the pit of his stomach. She pulled back, obviously feeling something too, and her brown eyes met his green ones. Her tears stopped and she smiled at him. Their lips met and as they kissed, Tim knew this was the start of something real.

-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-

In the Charger, not too far away, Tony DiNozzo pumped his fist and cheered as his junior agent pulled Emma Watson in for another kiss.

"Way to go, Probie," he grinned, relaxing back in the seat. "Way to go."

-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-

Monday, November 20, 2012 -8:51am - Outside NCIS Headquarters, Washington, DC -

Shifting the weight of her backpack from her right shoulder to her left, Mossad Liaison Ziva David stood rooted to the concrete in front of the NCIS building. For nearly a half an hour, she'd been unable to make the last steps to return to work. As she stared at the glass doors, that night and the following month continued to replay on a loop through her head.

From his perch, security officer Barney Walker waved to her and motioned for her to approach, likely hopeful to engage in their usual scuttlebutt. Ignoring him, Ziva closed her eyes and let out a loud exhalation, its dying puff visible in the frigid air.

This was the first time she'd returned to NCIS since Abby had called to say McGee had been found. The flurry of events culminating in Stoakes' death by her hand was still burned in her mind. She'd barely had enough time to find out McGee had survived with only minor injuries before Director Shepard notified her that the team was being internally charged with misconduct. Pending the investigation, she'd been ordered back to Tel Aviv. Back to Mossad.

Revisiting the early days after the incident, she thought about her time in Israel. Opting not to return to active Mossad missions, she'd spent a few days in Israel visiting with friends before boarding a plane to travel to Italy. She'd rationalized that if she were suspended then she'd use the time for a vacation she never had.

While abroad, she had managed to keep in touch with part of the team through e-mail. Taking in another deep breath of cold air, she remembered the mornings when she'd curl up with her laptop and a cup of tea to catch up on their most recent progress. Abby's e-mails arrived nearly every day and their stream of consciousness content included updates on music, CafPow, her instruments, and most importantly, the team.

According to Abby, she'd only seen Gibbs once since they left the hospital. On the day of the formal hearing, the forensic scientist stated that he'd given a closed door testimony to the director and stopped by to give Abby a hug before vanishing. It wasn't until later that Abby found out he'd taken on a three-month suspension for ignoring a direct order.

Almost immediately after the hearing, Tony had returned to NCIS headquarters as acting team leader with no team. From what Abby had said, he'd haunted the halls and the bullpen, sifting through cold case files. During his first few days back, DiNozzo had issued FBI agent Bruce Wayne a visitor's pass and allowed him to visit at his leisure. While Wayne served his own suspension, he and DiNozzo had bonded during their first week off with tending to a then reclusive McGee, touring DC and visiting most of the neighborhood watering holes. When Wayne and Fornell's two week suspension was done, the FBI agent had returned to the his building. From Abby's ramblings, it still sounded like he spent a good amount of time with Tony. Though as Abby's e-mails progressed, Wayne was mentioned with increasing frequency. Ziva had almost wondered if the forensic scientist was becoming enamored with the agent.

From Abby's e-mails, it took another week after Tony's return for McGee to be cleared for desk duty. Relieved of his weapon and confined to a desk, the junior agent's reactivation to field status was pending the next round of psychiatric evaluations. In the lengthier and less frequent e-mails she received from McGee, he'd indicated that he was coping with the situation well and was anxious to return to the field as soon as possible. From Abby's perspective, Tim had taken the aftermath harder than he let on. McGee's e-mails became more frequent and less detached after Hanrahan passed away, a few days after he returned to duty. With Hanrahan's death, Abby had said that McGee seemed less tormented, but he was still working through everything. Knowing he was undergoing counseling, Ziva had decided not to pry.

Somewhere in between Tony and McGee's return, NCIS had tracked Ziva down to Turin. A personal phone call from the director had implored her to return to her liaison status at once. Since she'd already planned for a month's respite, she decided to return on her own terms in late November. Even though she'd wanted to return quickly, she knew the break was necessary.

On the night of McGee's rescue, she'd broken cardinal rule of her years of military training. When she'd seen the junior agent held by Stoakes, she had felt her heart stop. From her years in Mossad rescue missions, she had known how the stories ended. Dead hostages and captors in custody. That night, a split second, visceral reaction overruled her training and resulted in Stoakes' death. For the first time in years of training, her emotions had controlled her.

"Are you coming in today, Miss David?" A voice with a thick Southern draw pulled her out of her thoughts, returning her to the present. "Mighty cold out here."

Opening her eyes, she looked into the friendly dark eyes of the security guard standing in front of her and smiled. "Yes." It was comforting to see the aging guard had made his way into the cold to check on her.

Motioning for her to follow, Walker headed back into the building and she trailed him closely. As she passed through the door, she let out a quiet sigh and he settled into his seat. "Nice to see you back, Miss - ." Her wry smile indicated his mistake. "Ziva. How was your 'vacation'?"

"Very nice," she said, both knowing what the word meant. After checking her in, he waved her to the elevator and she hit the call button.

As she waited, she shifted her backpack to her other shoulder and wondered why she felt nervous returning to her team. When the elevator arrived, she entered and took a nervous inhalation as the doors closed. Riding the elevator to her floor, she thought briefly of her time in Europe. That tiny café in Turin. The runs through the vineyards in Tuscany. Her nights walking through the streets of Rome just to see the city alight. When the doors dinged open, she took in a ragged breath and pushed herself to walk into the bullpen.

When she headed in, her male counterparts were present. McGee, right arm still in a sling, was seated at his desk and typing awkwardly one handed. Lounging at his own desk with his legs propped up, DiNozzo read a case file and scarfed a doughnut. Heading to her space, Ziva dropped her backpack to the floor and both men suddenly looked up. "Ziva!" They called out in unison.

Smiling, she placed her hands on her hips and watched McGee jump up. "When did you get back?" DiNozzo asked, swinging his legs from his desk and leaning forward on its surface.

"Last night," she grinned. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched McGee open the top drawer of his desk and approach her.

"How was the trip?" Tony grinned, ignoring McGee's motions.

"Enjoyable. It was the first time I have ever been able to visit Italy for pleasure," she explained, running a hand over her ponytail.

Nodding, DiNozzo dropped his eyes to his case file and allowed the other agents some privacy. With a tight smile, Tim McGee stood in front of Ziva and clutched a small gift poorly wrapped in what appeared to be Christmas paper. "Ziva," he started, voice trailing off. With a shaky inhalation, he started again. "Ziva, I -, I -, I -, I know it's not much and I can never repay you, but - ."

Holding up a hand to silence him, she shook her head and placed her hand on his good shoulder. As she squeezed his arm, their eyes met. "It is my job, Tim. I am only glad that you are okay." He extended the box to her and she shook her head again. With a nod, he placed on her desk and retreated to his own.

Gesturing with her head towards Gibbs' desk, she raised her eyebrows and McGee shook his head, sadly. "We haven't heard from him. The director says he'll be back in January."

She frowned and glanced at Tony. Features tight and jaw set, he flipped his case file closed. As he looked up, his face melted into a bright smile. "So now that you're back, where are we going to dinner tonight to celebrate?"

With a shrug, she smiled back at him and glanced to McGee. "I do not know," she said, flatly.

"Do you guys mind if we go out tomorrow night?" The junior agent asked, ears turning red. "Emma and I have tickets to an art gallery opening."

"Oh, come on, McWhipped! You never get to go out anymore. Hermoine's got you wrapped around her little finger," Tony jokingly groused, pointing his pinky at the junior agent. Even though the senior field agent smiled brightly at the junior agent, McGee's face turned several shades of crimson.

"Weren't you supposed to be going out tonight with Wayne anyway?" McGee countered, running a hand over his face.

"Yeah, but he bailed on me. He's going to that concert with Abby," the senior agent explained, not seeing the shock pass over McGee's face. "That kid was a great wingman." Laughing at the wistful look on Tony's face, Ziva settled into her desk chair and felt surprised that no one had changed the setting. "Alright, alright. So we'll all go out tomorrow night," Tony continued, glancing at McGee, "but where are we," the senior agent motioned to Ziva and himself, "going tonight?"

Leaning forward on her desk, the Israeli was caught off guard by a feeling that she'd never experienced before. It bubbled inside her and filled her with a warmth that shined on her face. For a second, the world stopped and she took in the welcoming, smiling faces of her teammates.

For the first time in her life, she was home.

-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-

Final Author's Note : First, I know that there is no chance that Wilkowski would be buried at Arlington. The scene with McGee and Emma originally took place at a different character's funeral and I had to change the person when the story turned out differently than I planned.

Second, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who made the journey with me to the end of the story. I hope that you've enjoyed the adventure as much as I have. I appreciate each and every one of you who has taken the time to read, favorite, alert and review. Going forward, I'd also like to thank anyone else in advance who's doing the same.

At the moment, I have no plans to continue this arc/universe and no plans to reincarnate Bruce Wayne in another story. But I won't say never because who knows if the inspiration will hit me. If I do, it'll be quite some time.

Currently, I'm halfway through two stories. One shorter, one longer. I'm hoping to be finished with one or both before the new year. But again, it might be a while.