Disclaimer: same as Chapter 1.

Author's notes:

- Here it is! The last chapter! Again, a huge THANK YOU to all my marvelous readers and reviewers for their steadfast weekly support. My best wishes for a wonderful new year 2015 to all of you!

- The Biblical quotation is from Leviticus 16:8(from Wikipedia).

- Details about transporting pets come from the American Airlines' website.

- John Logie Baird (1888–1946) was a Scottish engineer, innovator and inventor of the world's first mechanical television (from Wikipedia).

- To Momcat: Bonne année to you too! I'm glad you have a wonderful time in Paris for the New Year, even if it was crowded on the Champs Elysées.

- To MarkyV: thank you for your message! Hope you will like this new chapter.

- To Guest: Gibbs and Tim have made up but they still have a long way to go before being fully reconciled.

- To Guest: thank you! Happy new year to you too!

- To RedDragen: the holidays have been fine and I hope you have enjoyed yours as well.

- To Jeika: I'm glad you've enjoyed last chapter so much!

- To Guest: you are right, most fanfics are not finished but this one will be.

- To Ine: Danke schön! It's too bad Tony had to be punched to finally stop his taunts but he has never learned to use his brains.

- To None: you are right, Tony won't shed his 'frat boy' personae over one punch on the nose – he'll need a hundred more of them to finally become an adult!

- To mark gibbs: thank you for your review! Tim certainly deserves another reward but he's too modest to accept it.

- To Guest: here's the new chapter, and I hope you'll like it as well.

Chapter 100: A conclusion

Three weeks later, at the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, Saturday morning…

Tim sighed in contentment as he watched the flood of travelers coming and going throughout the hallways of the airport while sitting on one of the plastic chairs of the terminal, patiently waiting for the call announcing the boarding of an American Airlines' flight for Los Angeles. It could sound strange that the young man was resting as he watched the usual hustle and bustle of an airport – travelers running in every direction while dragging suitcases behind them or pushing small mountains of luggage piled on trolleys; airplanes hostesses and stewards calmly walking towards their desks; cleaning staff emptying wastebaskets and mopping floors; technicians carrying toolboxes; and security people keeping a sharp lookout on the crowd, ready for any sign of trouble. But a busy airport was an oasis of tranquility compared to the events that had occurred in Tim's life lately.

Of course, the main one had been magnificent Ziva becoming his sweetheart! Tim turned his head towards the young woman seated next to him; her carry-on luggage was nestled between her feet and she was reading attentively a brand-new "Los Angeles" guide book. Ziva had never been on the West Coast and she did not know much about the metropolitan city of Southern California, apart from the dream world of Hollywood and places popularized in TV shows such as 'Beverly Hills, 90210' which she enjoyed watching in Israel, on Hot 3 Channel. Ziva was pretty excited at the thought of living in such a beautiful city with her ahouve but, at the same time, she was quite aware of the difficulties ahead of them, one being getting familiarized with a new area and topography as soon as possible. So the ex-Mossad had started learning by heart the main streets and neighborhoods. She impressed Tim so much by her thoroughness in doing her homework that they would sometimes recite LA's street names while making love. Ziva called it 'Sexy topography' and it had become one of their favorite games in bed.

Jet was here too, lying on the ground next to his master; Tim had taken him for a little session at the animal relief area near the Metro Station entrance and the dog was trying to have a little doze in spite of the constant noise in the airport's hallways. He was wearing his best collar for travelling and also his leash as a security measure, like every time his master would take him in a crowded place. The dog had understood big changes were going to happen, especially after the day he had come home from his walk with "Ma-hike" to see all the furniture had been taken away, including his bed! It had been a distressing moment but "Teem" had gathered his pet in his arms and told him they were going to live in a new territory with "Zee-va", with lots of sun and an ocean (Jet had loved this last detail: his master had taken him to a trip to the beach once and the dog had the time of his life!). So after a moment, Jet had calmed down after he had been reassured "Teem" was not going to abandon him: quite the contrary, his favorite human was taking him to a new territory, far away from "A-bee" and "To-nee" and other bothersome intruders, where the dog would have a lot more room to play. And then, "Teem" and "Zee-va" would have younglings and Jet would protect them from enemies as everyone knew German Shepherds were very good guard dogs – in fact, Jet already pitied the fool who would even dare trying to harm the little ones: it would end up with a multi-perforated posterior!

Tim absently toyed with the leash between his hands, remembering his former flat emptied of all contents: it had felt strange walking around those big boxes, where the slightest noise would reverberate against the bare walls as there were no framed pictures, no furniture to absorb the sounds. Looking at the stripped flat had felt like mourning, as the place had played a major part in Tim's life for years and he had many good souvenirs in it – but also spoiled by a few major bad ones, like Tony's home invasion games, Nick Miller stealing his money or Abby trying to grab Jet. The front door's lock had been quickly repaired thanks to Harry Wallen but Tim had never been able to sleep soundly in his flat after that latest incident, in spite of Ziva's presence and Jet's watchfulness. So he had kept the Dark Dove under his bed until the day he had to vacate the premises and he had given the keys back to Mrs. Miller with mixed feelings of sadness and relief. He had said his goodbyes to Mrs. Bergman, to Mr. Roman, to Mrs. Matthews and they were quite sorry to lose such a nice neighbor. Tim had spent his last night in DC in a motel with Ziva but he had not been able to sleep a wink, too excited by the prospect of a new life with his lady-love under the Californian sun. It was definitively time for Tim to move on!

They had arrived at the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport three hours before the departure of their plane, since traveling with Jet would require extra time for the check-in at the ticket counter. Tim had produced a valid health certificate from Dr. Zipoli, the vet, and he had brought a kennel of a size conform to the airline's regulations. He had completed a check-list with an agent to make sure everything was done for the safety of his pet during the flight: were food and water dishes accessible without opening the kennel; when was the last time Jet had been fed and could he sit or rest comfortably inside the kennel? Tim had also brought Jet's blanket and his favorite chew toy to keep him company during the flight. It felt a bit odd to have his dog considered as "checked luggage" since Jet was way more than this: he was a friend, a trusted companion and a watchful guardian! But alas, airline companies could not take those feelings into consideration when it came to transporting pets.

Once the paperwork for Jet had been completed and the luggage registered, the young couple was told they had to wait for the call for customs and security before they would be guided to the boarding room. Tim would have to entrust Jet to the care of the staff, and the dog would be taken away in his kennel to be boarded in the aircraft's cargo compartments, while his master and new mistress would take their seats in the cabin. Doubtless Jet would miss his favorite human terribly but pets were not to be released from their kennels until the plane would touch the ground of the Los Angeles International Airport.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?" asked the young woman, raising her head from her book.

"Ani ohev otach."

Ziva smiled, and then kissed McGee before whispering: "Ani ohevet otcha."

"Ziva-heart, words cannot describe how happy I am to be in this airport, with you."

"Likewise, otsar chély (my treasure). Being with you feels like a miracle and I am so happy we will live this new adventure together."

"I hope you'll like working with Hetty Lange. She has quite a way in running her teams so we'd better be prepared for a shock."

"I've never seen her, nor talk with her on the phone. You've met her once during your time in LA with Gibbs, haven't you?"

"That's right," answered Tim, not wanting to go into details about this particular mission. Gibbs and him were investigating the murder of a Marine and unearthed a terrorist sleeper cell, when their inquest got greatly complicated by the presence in LA of Mossad officer Michael Rivkin, Ziva's former boyfriend. Matters escalated to culminate in a terrible crisis, after Ziva was left in Israel by Gibbs and later captured in Somalia by Saleem Ulman.

"Could you give me a description of her?"

"Well, physically she's completely different from Gibbs: apart the fact she's a woman, Hetty is also smaller and thinner, a petite woman with straight brown hair and glasses. She enjoys drinking tea; she speaks several languages; she has a degree in Fine Arts and she has published several books, plus she's a graduate from an Haute Couture school in Paris – but don't let her size fools you. She has taken down men twice her height; she's a crack shot, an accomplished athlete, a mountaineer and she can be as lethal as a rattlesnake whenever one of her agents is in danger. Any fool underestimating her or standing on her way gets removed without a backward glance, and she is not impressed by grades or titles."

"I already like her!" exclaimed Ziva.

"Yes, well I hope we won't start on the wrong foot with Hetty or that intelligence analyst, Eric Beale…" said Tim, voicing out loud his main concern about their future jobs. "Both of them were pretty found of Abby the time I met them and Eric was even a little jealous of me, since I was the lucky winner of Abby's affections. The poor guy had no clue that being Abby's so-called 'boyfriend' is nothing but a suffocating trap."

"Director Vance must have told Hetty what has happened with Abby, and the reasons why we are going to work in LA," reasoned Ziva. "From what you're saying, Hetty doesn't suffer fools and she wouldn't hold a grudge against you from having unmasked a pathological liar with a "look-at-me" attitude. As for the rest of the team, well, Hetty is supposed to inform them of our reasons for having left DC, right?"

"You're probably right, néhédérète. Hetty is a down-to-Earth leader and will certainly not protect a dishonest employee who turns on the waterworks at will and wears T-shirts with the caption: "I'm a fragile creature under this Goth outfit so don't brusque me, or I'll tell Gibbs!". Still, it might be difficult with Eric Beale, since he admired Abby very much and resented me for apparently having her affection, but we're both computer techs so I'm certain we'll find a common ground. Besides, the guys of the LA office are real professionals – not the kind to judge a person on gossips and hearsays."

"I still have a hard time believing Abby has spied on us, and then told about our relationship to Vance in the hopes it would make him 'forget' about her attempting dog-napping," said Ziva, her eyes hardening like obsidian stones. "I've always thought she wasn't especially courageous, but this denunciation was downright cowardice!"

"Like I've said to Gibbs, placing the blame on someone else's shoulders has been Abby's game for years – an attitude based by the 'favorite' status Gibbs has granted her. Since she couldn't do anything wrong, then the guilty party was fatally somebody else and most of the time it was me, the convenient scapegoat."

"A goat escaped?"

That made Tim smile: "Not exactly, yafa chély Ziva (my beautiful Ziva). I meant somebody who is blamed instead of the guilty one or ones. It's from the Bible, when a goat symbolically bearing the sins of the Israelites is sent away in the desert to perish, as part of the ceremonies of the Day of Atonement."

"Azazel!" exclaimed Ziva. ""And Aaron shall cast lots over the two goats, one lot for the Lord and the other lot for Azazel"".

"That's correct and, over the centuries, the word "scapegoat" in the English language evolved to evoke an innocent person being punished for the deeds of others. Of course, it never came to Abby's mind to tell Gibbs about her imprudence with Mawher, or in Mexico, or when she pressured me in using the MTAC room so a little boy could speak to his mother deployed in Iraq for Christmas, or during the countless examples she left me holding the bag. Each and every time Gibbs blamed me and Tony never lifted a finger to correct the situation; then again, I wasn't important enough to defend. It's a Probie's role to be blamed in lieu of others, to quote Tony!"

Ziva grabbed Tim's hand and squeezed it: "Tony was wrong, ahouve, just like Gibbs was, and Abby, and I have to admit it, even me. Your forgiveness humbles me and you're the only reason I've become a good woman and a decent human being: otherwise, I would have remained a harsh, embittered person and sometimes I wonder what I've done in my life to deserve you – certainly not for my past good actions!"

This declaration made Tim blush a deep red: "How about you being a splendid woman with lots of love to give and so much energy you could sell it, my Ziva?"

A thorough kiss followed those words, and only the need for air forced McGee and Ziva to regretfully separate their mouths after a long moment. The kiss made a few passersby chuckle in delight while a few women sighed in envy and a man gave Tim a knowing grin. Apparently, the handsome couple and their canine companion was the object of admiration amongst the crowd of travelers and their kiss had caused a few hearts to flutter. Ziva, unaccustomed to being the center of attention (it was against her military training), tried to hide her face behind her guide book and gave Tim a smile – the one that made her special man melt like butter in a hot frying pan.

"I'm so happy Director Vance has agreed to let us go on the same plane, ahouve. It would have been very hard for me to remain behind in DC and having to wait extra weeks before we could be together again in LA."

"I suspect he did it also for practical reasons, beauteous!" answered McGee with a chuckle. "Sending away two persons in the same flight is easier on the paperwork, not to forget it lowers the costs and Vance is pretty uptight about budget. He was grateful about the deal we've made with the Coast-to-Coast moving company about sharing a container for our stuff and also for having taken plane tickets at reasonable prices, including a good traveling plan for Jet. It was a stroke of luck you've been able to leave your flat at such a short notice, too!"

"It was a furnished apartment, ahouve so I didn't have to worry about furniture like you were. My landlord won't have any trouble renting the flat, since he has a waiting list as long as my arm. And I had a lot less books and stuff than you had; my main luggage was my kitchen utensils and my collection of knives. Your movers took away the kitchen gear but I had a hard time leaving the knives locked up in my suitcase! Then again, even a Federal Agent would find it difficult to explain why she's travelling with a cabin bag full of blades."

"Don't I know it," said Tim with a sigh, thinking of the Dark Dove. He had to leave it in his suitcase too, wrapped in a new pair of socks and he was missing the reassuring presence of the blade under his shirt, close to his heart. But Ziva was right: Federal Agents were allowed to keep their service weapons while traveling by planes but knives… that was another story. So they had both chosen to keep their favorite weapons under lock and key in their suitcases, which would be later locked up in the luggage compartment, in order to avoid embarrassing questions with the airport's security staff.

"I think Vance also understood you couldn't work with Tony anymore," added McGee. "After he has learned of that major scene that had happened at my flat with Abby, Gibbs and then Tony, the Director knew you wouldn't be able to keep your cool around Tony and it probably would have ended with another nose-punching session – this time right in the middle of the bullpen, and in front of witnesses."

"Nose-punching, knife-throwing, paperclip-flying amongst many other things I had in mind for him," said Ziva with a frown, remembering the massacre of equipment she had committed in the morgue, months ago.

"This is the reason why Vance pulled a few strings to accelerate your transfer to LA with me, for keep the peace inside the bullpen. Tony's motor-mouth is impossible to stop and Gibbs would have ended up with a broken arm from repeated head-slaps in an attempt to shut him up! But Tony is too furious about many things – you and I in love, our departure for LA, even the medal – to keep quiet; you would have endure snide comments, sarcasms and even accusations all day long, until you'd crack and strangle him with his own tie before Gibbs could stop you. You'd have ended up arrested for having assaulted a federal agent, and in the end Tony would have won by separating us. One of the main conditions for him to keep his pseudo-title of "NCIS' Best Agent" is for you to remain his partner at all costs, as he damn well knows no other agent wants to work with him. His belittling campaign was an effort to discourage you from loving me, and so you'd remain by his side like an obedient soldier."

"Discouraging me from loving you? Not a chance!" exclaimed Ziva before giving Tim a toe-curling kiss. This time, passers-by laughed out loud and Jet let out a growl: what were those humans doing, making noises when his master and new mistress were licking each other's mouths? They should get their own mates and mind their own businesses!

A long moment passed before Tim could breathe again, and then he kissed Ziva lightly on the nose – prompting a chuckle from the ex-Mossad. She had not felt such an intense happiness since she had been a carefree little girl and she loved Tim even more for it! Then, her expression turned serious again as she said:

"I'm still pretty crossed at Tony for all the horrible things he has said in your own home, from insulting Jet to call you a coward and an incapable. How could he be so rude, so inconsiderate? How can he think being a Senior Agent gives him permission to slander one of his colleagues and never having to answer for his actions?"

"Tony is Gibbs' best student," replied Tim with a sigh. "And Gibbs is a firm believer in walking over people before they'd walk over you. A very practical philosophy, in where no one stands in your way but there's a heavy price to pay: you remain alone for the rest of your life. Gibbs has scared off almost everybody in his entourage, and Tony will wake up one day realizing his stream of girlfriends has dried out and he hasn't made a real friend in the whole world."

"What an awful way to life your life… And to think I've believed the same thing for years! I'm so grateful to you for having showed me a better way, ahouve."

"And I'm very grateful to you for having accepted me as I am, néhédérète," replied McGee, intertwining his fingers with Ziva's.

A moment of silence followed, interrupted only by Jet shaking his head to chase away an inopportune fly. Then Ziva asked:

"Ahava chély (my love), I've meant to ask… What is going to happen about Abby burglarizing your home? Will you have to come back to DC to testify for the trial?"

"No, dearest. According to Mr. Rosetti, my attorney, Abby's case is a slam dunk – meaning she doesn't have a chance of winning. Between her being caught on the act, Mrs. Bergman's testimony and the statements from the two cops, plus the damages done to the front door's lock, Abby will not be able to deny the charges against her. I've filed up all the paperwork Mr. Weber, from the insurance company, has sent me and I have Mr. Waller's bill as proof of damages done to my door. Mr. Rosetti told me he will be able to handle the trial without needing me in court, just like he did with Nick Miller's, and he'll ask for the maximum penalty against Abby."

"Isn't he worried about Abby accusing you of animal cruelty to justify her actions, like she has done many times in the past? She could plead her attempted dog-napping was a self-imposed rescue mission to save that poor, innocent creature from Evil You."

"Mr. Rosetti has considered it too, so he asked Dr. Zipoli, the vet, for Jet's medical records. He will prove to the judge that Jet is a perfectly healthy dog, with all the vaccinations and mandatory examinations done, without a bruise or a broken bone in his body. Abby's accusations of mistreatment are based only on figments of her imagination (not exactly a receivable proof) and the fact I had to shoot Jet while investigating a murder (NCIS' cases are not to be discussed in a courthouse, unless Abby wants to be jailed for treason). She doesn't have a leg to stand on for this trial and she'll probably receive a six-month long sentence in jail."

"But what do Abby's legs have to do with…?"

"I mean, she doesn't have a chance to confuse the issue; she will do prison time, and after her release she will have a hard time finding a new job with a criminal record."

"Can't say I pity her but I worry about her resourcefulness," said Ziva. "Abby has lots of friends or, should I say, idiots who would give her everything to earn her devotion. Gibbs said that, after he had refused to bail her out, Abby contacted her current boyfriend and he posted bail right after the hearing the next morning – a kid barely of legal age, who pretends to be a rebel to annoy his rich family."

"Arthur Varga? Yeah, Mr. Rosetti saw him at the hearing. That kid calls himself "Ace" but the only thing he has ever managed to do in his life is to pour money into drug dealers' pockets. It's terrible to see someone so young wasting his life with illegal chemicals and fake friends who will bleed him dry before throwing him away like an oily old rag. I wish I could do something for him…"

"That's your big heart talking again, ahava chély! But I'm afraid that kid won't learn anything until Abby dumps him once she'll be finished with him to move for her next meal ticket, since Gibbs has refused to help her. But Abby has better not get any ideas of avenging herself on you by hiring some kind of thug, otherwise… I won't answer for my actions!" added Ziva with a ferocious gleam in her eyes and McGee felt a shiver crawl up his spine. There were no doubts in his mind about Ziva's determination to turn a hired hand – and his backer – into dog food if they ever try to conspire against her special man.

"That's highly unlikely to happen, dearest. Abby is a done deal: she's broke, her career is in shambles and she won't be able to leech off her friends forever. She'll never have the means to ask for the services of a hired gun and something tells me Vance plans to keep an eye on her, in case Abby ever gets the funny idea of selling information about NCIS and its secrets to a journalist wanting to write a book about federal agencies; if she ever tries that, she'll find herself in prison and for a longer sentence than for an attempted burglary."

"You must be happy to leave all this behind you, ahouve!" said Ziva. The past few months had been hard for the young man and this incident with Abby had not improved anything.

Tim sighed and collected the young woman in his arms; Ziva did not know the whole truth – in fact, he had hidden from her the tedious phone call he had received from his mother the day after the ceremony at the White House. McGee had been at his flat, putting his DVD collection in card boxes while the ex-Mossad was working at NCIS. Then, the phone had rung…

(Flashback)

"Hello?"

"Tim? It's your mother! What have you done to your father?"

The young man had sighed before deposing the ultimate edition of the 'Lord of the Rings' DVDs on the coffee table before telling Mrs. McGee:

"Hello to you too, Mom. How have you been since my return from Afghanistan?"

"No need to be cheeky, young man! I've asked you a question and I want a straight answer about what you've done to your father."

"Well, here's your answer, Mom: nothing."

"Nothing?! How can you say that? Your father went to an event at the White House yesterday and came back in such a state he has been drinking non-stop ever since! He has emptied all the bottles of the liquor cabinet and he has just left home to buy more alcohol, even if he's hardly in any condition to drive! And he said you were at the White House, as well!"

"That's correct."

"So what did you say to upset him so much?"

"You should know by now that nothing I can say can bother Dad in the slightest, Mom. About other people can say, now, that's another matter."

"For God's sakes, Tim, what on Earth are you talking about?"

"Mom, if you had given up on that mindless groupie's personality you've adopted since your marriage, you'd have realized long ago that Dad is far from the immaculate Hero of the US Navy he pretends to be. He's a bully, a coward to the core and he has resented me from Day One for being cleverer than he is – mind you, he also resents Penny for the same reasons. But his bullying was not limited to home, since he's the most detested commander of the Navy. His men hate his guts; his junior officers avoid him like the plague and the other high-rankers laugh behind his back. Have you ever wondered why Dad has been granted a bureaucratic position after that incident aboard the USS Endeavour, years ago? That's because it's the only place where he cannot do damages to the Navy until he'll retire, much to everyone's relief."

"Tim! How dare you speak like that about your father! He…"

"It's the truth, Mom. Dad has alienated everybody in his life apart from you, but I won't try to convince you of this fact since it would be a waste of time. Bottom line is, I went to the White House because I was invited to this event; in fact, I was the guest of honor."

"WHAT?"

"I was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by the President of the United States himself, in front of Dad and other distinguished members of the armed forces, including Director Vance of the NCIS and the man I've worked with in Afghanistan."

"WHAT?"

"This medal was a reward for the work I've done abroad, and also for the capture of a group of terrorists who held me captive until I overpowered them."

"WHAT?"

"I'll e-mail you the official photo of the ceremony, if you wish to get a souvenir. But this even has shocked Dad to the core, since watching his useless son being awarded by the President was more than he could bear. Of course, his expulsion from the Oval Office for having slandered me in public certainly didn't help…"

"WHAT?"

"As a result for my hard work, Director Vance has me transferred to LA, where I will work with one of NCIS' best teams. Meaning I will leave DC within a few weeks…"

"WHAT?"

"Also, someone will come to California with me: the love of my life, Federal Agent Ziva David. Oh, you and Dad know her – she's the dark-haired beauty who has scared you off with her blades during your unwelcome visit to NCIS after I left the States; Director Vance has told me all about it and he certainly wasn't pleased by you and Dad."

"WHAT? That horrible woman is your girlfriend?"

"She's my dear friend, yes."

"But… But you can't have her as your girlfriend! She's Jewish!"

"So?" had asked Tim, not liking the way this conversation was going.

"Your father and I will never accept her!"

"For your information, I don't really care about your opinion or Dad's. I love Ziva, I will marry her and if you ever want to meet your grandchildren one day, you'll change your attitude towards Ziva… real fast."

A stunned silence followed Tim's words as Mrs. McGee had a hard time believing what she had just heard: her son had been rewarded by the President of the United States; Tim would move away and put thousands of miles between him and his parents; their child was involved with a dangerous woman, very handy with lethal weapons!

"Tim, you… You cannot leave us like this! We're your parents! We'll be heartbroken by your departure and…"

"Oh please, Mom, don't try emotional blackmail on me; other women better skilled than you in this field have tried and failed. Neither Dad nor you have ever bothered about me, my studies or my career at NCIS so why should you be upset about me living on the West Coast?"

"How can you say that? We were frantic of worry after having learned about you going to a war zone!"

"Actually, you were appalled at the thought I could become a hero, thus destroying Dad's permanent slanders about me being a coward; he'd have looked quite ridiculous in front of his men and no-one makes a fool of US Admiral Robert McGee – actually, Dad does this very well on his own, as he has proved it during the award ceremony and in front of the President."

"Tim…"

"And I'm having a hard time believing you about being worried for my safety abroad. Since my return, I've left you dozens of voicemails on your home phone and on both your cell phones, but none of you deigned to return my calls. So stop it with the concerned act, Mom; it really doesn't suit you."

"But…"

"As for Dad, please tell him that drowning his pride in alcohol and getting arrested for drunk driving won't help him whatsoever. His ego for surpasses his intelligence and he'll never be a great commanding officer, so the best thing for him is to stay in his office and keep his mouth shut. After he retires, he'll take you on a cruise around the world and you'll forget about your "dull-as-dishwater" son… That's how Dad called me right in front of my friends at MIT, once."

"Tim…"

"Good-bye, Mom. I'll forward you my new address in LA and you're welcome to visit me there whenever you want to… As long as you remember that I won't admit any hostility towards Ziva."

(End of flashback)

"Here they are!" boomed a commanding voice, startling Tim out of his reverie.

"Indeed, Director. We have arrived just in time!" added the distinguished tone of an elderly gentleman from the British Isles.

"Yeah," added a laconic, gruff voice. Director Vance, Ducky and Gibbs had just arrived at the terminal, as they said they would come to the airport and bid the young couple farewell.

Tim's heart warmed at the sight and he got on his feet out of respect for Director Vance, and so did Ziva. Jet, sensing something was happening, sat up as he recognized the white-furred "Giiibz" and the very old male "Doo-ky" (the one that was not to be jumped at because of frail bones) coming towards them. However, he did not know the third human called "Dee-rec-tor Vanss" but "Teem" greeted the man with enthusiasm, so Jet refrained from barking too loud or licking hands. "Dee-rec-tor Vanss" had the aura of an alpha male and was to be treated with respect, so the dog opted for smelling the human's shoes and ankles to register his scent for future use.

"Whoa! Your dog seems to enjoy my shoes, McGee. Is he looking for a snack before boarding?" asked Vance with an amused smirk on his face.

"Not to worry, Director. Jet is just getting acquainted with you, and he'll be able to recognize you amongst hundreds of persons on our next meeting."

"Smart dog," said Vance. "So, is everything ready for your departure, lads?"

"It is, Sir. The moving company has already shipped off the bulk of our stuff and it will arrive in LA within two weeks. In the meantime, we'll live in a furnished two-room flat located in a good neighborhood, thanks to the list of available accommodations Pamela has provided by e-mail. It isn't far from NCIS' headquarters and it will be easy to rent a car before buying a new one, since I've sold my Porsche a few days ago and without regrets, too, as we'll need a more practical car in the future…"

Ziva discreetly squeezed Tim's hand!

"We have everything we need packed up in our suitcases: paperwork, clothes, LA maps and guides…"

"Not to forget guns, ammunitions, a first-aid kit and our knives," completed the ex-Mossad. "And Jet has proven to be a very good guard dog so he'll keep a sharp lookout on our stuff!"

The German shepherd finished his inspection of "Dee-rec-tor Vanss'" shoes to lick the young woman's hand, who answered by petting Jet on the head. Tim could not help but think about the house he would buy in LA, after Ziva had agreed to be his wife. It would be a nice house, not far from the beach, with a closed garden so Jet would be able to frolic under the sun for hours while his master and mistress were at work. A house with several bedrooms for the time when – and Tim's heart skipped a beat at the thought – a little one would come into their lives, followed by another, and then another…

"That's wonderful, my dears," said Ducky. "Please don't forget to take good care of your health in LA, since settling in a new environment can prove to be a bit upsetting for your organisms. You both are up to date with your vaccinations but remember to note the phone numbers of GPs, dentists, ophthalmologists and hospitals and to keep this information on you at all times – not to forget a veterinarian for your faithful four-legged companion."

"Will do, Ducky," said McGee with a smile.

"Agents McGee and David, Hetty Lange is expecting you in her office on Monday morning at 7:00 a.m. sharp," said Director Vance. "I've told her the full reasons of your transfer in California so there shouldn't be any misunderstandings – not even with Mr. Beale, the intelligence analyst – as you'll have to hit the ground running with Agents Callen and Hanna. There won't be any time to lose over petty matters and misunderstandings. After some hardcore training, Callen and Hanna take you out in the field for undercover missions, crime scene processing and interrogation of suspects for the both of you. No one on Team Callen is left behind in the bullpen, nor there are agents hogging the limelight to annoy the Hell of their co-workers. You are both field agents and you will work accordingly as such, are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir," said Tim and Ziva at unison, and Gibbs had the good grace to look embarrassed at the mention of leaving a team member behind since it was 'practical' to have a computer genius chained to a desk so he would provide information to the would-be Big Boys roaming down the streets.

"Good!"

"Director Vance, before we leave, may I talk to you for a minute in private?" asked Tim. Vance nodded and lead McGee a few paces away from Gibbs, Ducky and Ziva, who had to tug at Jet's leash to prevent the dog from following his master.

"What is it, Agent McGee?"

"I wanted to ask you, Sir… Do you know what happened to Amanda Drucker, the woman who had a major fall-out with Tony on Jimmy's wedding? I was sorry to hear about her woes and I kind of hoped a solution has been found for her."

"As a matter of fact, Agent McGee, Miss Drucker has been transferred to a new job in our office in Miami; I've been signing a lot of transfer paperwork, lately! After having calmed down from the scandal, she told me all about her tedious family situation and how it has all started from a calumny by Agent DiNozzo to the imprisonment of her brother for attempted murder. From her story, it was obvious her parents were holding her responsible for everything and took advantage of her guilt feelings to leech her out of her salary. So I sent Miss Drucker to greener pastures and hopefully the distance will put things into perspective, and help her in seeing through her parents' manipulative game."

"I'm glad to hear that, Sir. Amanda's brother is a jerk but she doesn't have to suffer the consequences of her minor indiscretion for the rest of her life. And Tony?"

Vance shrugged: "Agent DiNozzo is still demoted, and will remain until he'll finally see the light and realize his attitude is unworthy of a federal agent. Agent Gibbs has expressed the wish to retire so Agent DiNozzo will find himself working for a new Boss – someone who doesn't appreciate bullying and attention-seeking. How about you? Are you up for the challenge of working for Hetty Lange?"

Tim's eyes shone like magnificent emeralds.

"I'm ready, Sir. I will work to my full potential with Hetty Lange's team and to learn from my new colleagues."

"I don't doubt that for a minute, Agent McGee, but I'm more inclined to think they will learn from you and not the other way round. Hetty is quite impatient to meet the genius who has created CHRIS (yes, she knows all about it) and arrested one of Afghanistan's most wanted in his spare time. Did you know Farhad Wardak had been handed over to the Afghan authorities?"

"No, Sir. With all what happened, I've erased him from my mind."

"Yeah, well General Stephenson told me over the phone about Wardak's fate and it isn't pretty… He was found torn to pieces in a prison cell two days prior his hanging, probably by a mob paid by his victims' relatives. He must have regretted of not having died of starvation in that cavern!"

McGee remembered Wardak in the cavern, how he had stopped Butler from beating him up simply out of greed as he was worried the 'American Lord' would die before having a chance to demand a ransom from the United States' government. Stephenson had told him at ISAF about Farhad Wardak and his awful business of kidnapping, extortion and murder: his capture certainly improved the diplomatic relations between the US and Afghanistan but Tim, traumatized by Aimee's death and preoccupied with the new version of CHRIS, had not thought too much about the importance of Wardak's capture.

Aimee…

McGee had filed up a form at a florist's shop and a bouquet of flowers would be delivered every week on the doctor's grave at Arlington National Cemetery. Tim was sad he would not be able to pay his respects to Aimee each Sunday, as he had done since his return from abroad, but the flowers would silently express his love and sadness in his stead.

"Let's get back to the others, Agent McGee," said Vance, taking Tim by the arm and ushering him back to the group. Ziva was chatting away with Ducky, who was expressing Dr. and Mrs. Palmer's regrets for not being available to say good-bye (they were still honeymooning in Hawaii) while Gibbs remained quiet, hiding his emotion under his usual stern face. Jet was looking puzzled, looking at "Teem" and "Dee-rec-tor Vanss" without understanding the reasons of them departing from the pack to come back a moment later. Human comportment was hard to comprehend, at times!

Then a woman's voice on the loudspeaker announced the boarding for the American Airlines' flight for Los Angeles International Airport at Terminal 3.

"That's our call," said Tim.

"Well, we'll take our leave now, as we have to go back to the office," said Vance with a voice a bit less commanding than usual. "Agent McGee, I trust you with Agent David's safety – and same to you, Agent David. Once your time in LA is over I expect the both of you in my office to build the best team DC has ever seen, am I clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Oh, my dears, it's so hard to see you leave!" exclaimed Ducky. "Please keep me posted about your life in "The Town of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels of the Porciúncula River", that's Los Angeles' full name. And if you need medical advice or simply a sympathetic ear, feel free to call me anytime. You have my phone number and I'll be delighted to speak to you via Skype. John Logie Baird certainly didn't imagine his invention would allow people to talk to each other from the other side of the world, after he gave in 1925 the first public demonstration of televised silhouette images in motion! Baird was Scottish, did you know that?"

"No, Ducky," said Ziva with a sad smile. She would miss the old man's history lessons!

"Anyway, I'm pretty handy with Skype so don't be shy in giving me a call. Jethro has even recently acquired a laptop computer and a Skype account, if you can believe that!"

"Oh yes, very easily," said Tim, locking eyes with the ex-Marine.

The second call for the LAX airport was heard over the loudspeaker.

"We should go, as boarding Jet in the kennel will take some time."

Tim and Ziva shook hands with Vance and spontaneously hugged Ducky, who had a hard time hiding his tears behind the misted glass of his spectacles. Then Ziva shook hands with Gibbs, who kissed her cheek and muttered "Good luck, kid" before turning his attention back to McGee.

"Tim…"

"Gibbs…"

"Oh, to Hell with it!" exclaimed the ex-Marine, and he grabbed McGee to hold him against his chest. After a few heartbeats, Tim returned the embrace and felt something wet pressed against his face – it was a tear escaping from Gibbs' sapphires to roll on his cheek. Then the silver-haired man turned his head slightly to whisper in Tim's ear:

"I don't want to lose you again, son."

Tim's vision got blurred at those words, but he managed to reply in a calm voice:

"You won't lose me, Gibbs. I still love you."

A bone-crushing hug followed those words, and then Gibbs reluctantly freed McGee; he had to let his youngest go so Tim would finally complete his training and become the future Director of NCIS in DC, but it was so damn hard to see his baby go away. At least, this time Gibbs had been able to properly say good-bye; he had not gotten into a brawl with MPs and soldiers, like he had done at Base Andrews!

"Let's go, ahouve."

"You're right, néhédérète."

With a last smile to Vance, Ducky and Gibbs, Tim and Ziva grabbed their carry-on bags and Jet's leash, and headed for Terminal 3 with the hopes of a new job, a new team and a new life. Vance nodded in the direction of the young couple and then signaled to Ducky and Gibbs to follow him to the parking lot. The elderly M.E. and the ex-Marine casted one last glance at the retreating forms of their children before following the agency's director, dragging as if each of their feet weighted a ton each.

"Ani ohev otach, Ziva-heart," said a moved McGee, holding the young woman's hand.

"Ani ohevet otcha, Tim," answered Ziva as she squeezed Tim's hand back – tightly.

They crossed the gate of the American Airlines' flight to LA, unaware of the presence of a balding man with piercing eyes and a dangerous smile, who was faking to be engrossed by the lecture of a magazine at a newsstand.

"Well, well! It seems the butterfly with brightly-colored wings and the damselfly with the sharp sting are going to the West Coast together…" muttered the man between his teeth.

Trent Kort turned around, just in time to see Tim and Ziva melting into the crowd of travelers.

"Godspeed, butterfly and damselfly!"

THE END!