She felt the warmth of her blood drip down her right arm; and could feel her heart rapidly pounding. Her other arm was instinctively covering her wound, as if holding her hand on the area the bullet hit her, would magically make it better. She glared at her attacker, the only way she could think of to fight back.

A part of her wanted her attacker to just kill her there, and just get the whole thing over with. The anticipation of what her attacker was planning was too much, she she almost wondered if it was possible to die from anticipation.

At the same time, the hopeful part of her wanted someone to burst through the door, and save her from her deathly fate. But she was a logical person. She knew that nobody was coming to save her. There would be no chivalrous knight in shining armor to come to her rescue. No happily ever after. Only a early death.

"You're awfully calm, for somebody who's about to die," her soon-to-be murderer said with a sadistic tone, "Don't you want to cry? Beg for mercy? Offer me something that would spare you?"

She did want to cry. More then anything, she wanted to cry. This wasn't how she imagined she'd die. She thought it'd be bravely, with honer, out in the battle field. She thought she'd die serving her country. Or, if that wasn't the case, she'd be in her old age, and would die peacefully in her sleep, her children with her. However, she never imagined once that it'd be like this.

But she wasn't going to cry or beg. She wouldn't give her attacker the pleasure of it.

"What would be the point?" She asked, her glare intensifying, "You would kill me anyways. Why waste your time?" She heard a sigh.

"Lieutenant...you're no fun at all, you know that?" She heard a laugh, "Although...it is quite a shame. Those twins of yours are never going to hear what a musical genius their mommy was."

Her eyes widened at the statement. She had forgotten all about her children. What kind of mother was she? She was worrying about the fact she was about to die, her mind completely forgot about her children. Her two three-year-olds, who were safely spending the week at their aunt's house. Her two little angels, who had no idea they many never see their mother again.

At that moment, her want to survive the whole ordeal completely overcame her. She slowly went to her feet. She wasn't about to leave the two people she treasured without a mother. Without their parent, who had taken care of them as best as she could. She couldn't. If she just let herself be murdered willingly, she'd be letting herself, and her children down. Her attacker laughed, a cold, sadistic laugh.

"Ah, it appears that I sparked a nerve!" Another laugh, "Now, this gets interesting."

She charged at her attack her, the wound in her arm now feeling like nothing. She plunged head first into the stomach of the would-be-murderer, knocking them both to the floor. She then felt a knee jam into her stomach, knocking her off. She saw in the corner of her eye, her attacker getting up and turn towards her.

She also started to get up, still not willingly to die then. However, before she was able to make her next she heard three gun shots, and felt a sudden pain in her chest.

She fell down, feeling the blood pouring out of her. It then hit her, that she had lost. She failed. She failed her children.

"Goodbye, Lieutenant," Her murdered said, "This has been fun."

She began seeing the blackness surrounding the corners of her eyes; but all she could thing of was her twins. Louise and Dale. The loves of her life. How she was just leaving them, and there was nothing else she could do.

She remember the last time she saw them, dropping them of at her sister's house, before leaving to go to war. She knew then that there was the possibility she'd never see them again, but as soon as she was back on American soil...she was happy. She was going to see them again. They would have their mommy. But now...

She was going to die, and she'd never see them again. She'd never hear their sweet voices again.

She wished for one thing. To hear them say they loved her one last time. It wouldn't justify leaving the world, but it would make it just a little easier.

Before she lost consciousness forever, though, she heard something. She heard her telephone beep, and her voice in the answering machine telling whoever was calling to leave a message.

"Hi Mommy!" Came two voices that she knew anywhere.

"Auntie Leslie made us bwownies!" One of her children said. She smiled. The oldest of the twins; Louise.

"They wewe yummy!" Said her other; Dale.

"Hey, Gail, its Leslie," came the voice of her sister, "The kids just wanted to say goodnight to you, before they went to bed. They can't wait to see come back to you on Wednesday, and can't stop talking about it. I was thinking we could meet up at that French restaurant that you like." There was a slight pause, "Say goodnight, you two."

"Goodnight Mommy!" The two said, completely synchronized, "We love you!" There was a click, and the line went dead.

She smiled, and took in one last breath, and muttered her last words.

"I love you too..." she said weakly, "And...I'm sorry..."

--

Ziva's eyes stared at the cover of the book, as if she was trying to figure out it's contents by just looking at the cover. Not a day went by when she didn't hear somebody mention the book, and as far as she'd seen, everybody seemed to be obsessed with it. Now, she was finally about to see what the book was about, and if it was really as good as everybody had told her it was.

She heard the elevator ding, and Tony's noisy footsteps walk in. She didn't look up, though. He was only going to say something to irritate her, or something that would get him slapped by Gibbs later, like he did every day without fail.

"Oh, dear God," came his voice, "You've become one of them!" Ziva looked up, having no clue what he was talking about.

"One of who?" She asked. He smirked at her, and took the book out of her hands.

"Everybody I've known who's read this book has become..." he paused, and a look of fear came across his face, "This book warps people's minds, Ziva, turns them into complete psychopaths. They become zombies, who can only think about how great the book is; and there's no cure. Although..." he looked at her, and grinned, "Actually, you'll probably be just fine."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She growled at him.

"Is that Twilight?" Came McGee's sudden voice. The two turned to look at him, "I'm going to take Sarah to see the movie this weekend. Are you reading it?"

Ziva snatched the book from Tony's hand, and glared at him.

"I'm going to read it," she replied, "I've heard some good recommendations about it from my neighbors, and I've been looking for something good to read."

"Probie, we can't let this happen," Tony told McGee, "She's crazy enough as it is. We don't need that book warping her mind!"

"Tony, have you even read the book?" Ziva asked. Tony smiled at her.

"Have I read the book?" he laughed, "Ziva-"

"He hasn't read it," Gibbs came in the room, getting all three of the agent's attention, "Grab your gear. We've got a dead Navy Lieutenant."

--

Click Click Click

Tony looked at the dead woman he was taking pictures of. It was just another normal crime scene. Her auburn hair was scattered around her head. She had two bullet holes in her chest, and one in her arm.

The team was just looking around the room, looking for any evidence to find out what had happened to her.

She had been found by her neighbor, a man that looked to be about twenty. He had told the group that he had just moved to the building, and when he was walking by her room, he saw that the door was open. He had looked in, and saw her body on the floor. Unfortunetly, the two had never met, so he couldn't tell them the name of the poor woman.

"She was a pianist," Ziva commented, looking at the wooden piano in the corner of the living room.

"Wonder how good she was?" Tony commented, looking at her body, "I bet she was one of those people who got a piano just because they could. You wouldn't believe how many woman I've dated who've claimed to be 'musicians', and could barely play 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'."

Ziva then saw something on the piano. A small device she recognized as a recorder. Being curious, she pressed the "play" button.

"This is Toccota by Aram Khachaturian," said a female voice. There was a pause, before a loud, grand cord instantly blasted through the speakers followed by a rapid string of notes. It was enough to get everybody's attention. Even Gibbs was looking at their way, and the music coming from the small recording device. Ziva paused it, and smiled.

"You were saying?" She said, smuggly.

Tony sighed, and wondered into one of the bedrooms, looking for any evidence that could help them.

"Good morning, Jethro," came the sudden voice of Ducky, followed by Palmer. The two saw the body, and instantly went to it. They started to examine it, before putting the liver probe in.

"She had children," McGee said, finding a photo. It was framed picture of what he easily recognized as the victim; and two kinds who looked like they were about three; a girl and a boy.

"So, the question is, where are the children?" Gibbs asked. A sinking feeling hit McGee's stomach. He hated it when cases made a turn like this. He didn't want to stumble upon the bodies of the two three year olds. He hadn't seen a dead child yet, and he hoped he'd never have to.

"It looks like she died twelve to fourteen hours ago," Ducky commented, taking out the liver probe.

"Guys! You're going to want to see this!" Tony's voice yelled out, as he came rushing into the room. He was holding a ID card, with the victim's picture and name.

"You're never going to guess what her name is," He said, and held the card up. The team's eyes widened when they saw the name on the card.

"You've got to be kidding me," Ziva said, looking at the card.

"Abby's going to be jumping off the walls when she hears this," McGee added.

Lieutenant Abigail Scuito

I promised myself I wouldn't start anything new...but...the idea hit me, and I had to write it. So, the victim has Abby's name? What could this possibly mean?!?

I'm trying to make this as much like a NCIS episode as I possibly can. How am I doing character wise? Did I make anybody out of character? Was something rushed? Did I miss-spell something? Or is it completely perfect? Tell me!

Also, I want to make clear, that the the dead lieutenant IS NOT Abby. She just has the same name.

And another thing, this story will have absolutely nothing to do with Twilight. I just needed something to put for there, and since there has been so much hype around Twilight lately, I thought it fit.

Now, review! Thanksgiving leftovers for those who do...wait...I can't really send them over the computer...just review.

Jeanne