I think this is the last of the NCIS fanfiction Archive stories I am reviving for this site.

Back to the mat

"Ziva, you're with McGee on the mats: go," ordered Gibbs.

McGee swallowed hard. "I'll be back in a minute," he said heading for the change room.

"Cup?" smiled Tony.

"You'd better believe it," McGee replied earnestly.

Ziva laughed. "I'm not going to kick you there," she called after him.

"It's like insurance," Tony explained. "Protecting, God forbid, the next generation of McGee's."

McGee returned. "Come on DiNozzo," Gibbs dragged Tony by the shoulder. "You're with me."

"Sure thing boss." Somehow, Tony thought he was probably getting the better deal.

Ziva faced McGee on the mat. "Don't be soft with me just because I am a woman," she warned.

"Don't worry, I won't," he assured her. "I've made that mistake before."

They circled for a moment and then Ziva dived for his legs. She twisted and turned like wildcat but he knew he had two advantages - one: he was a foot taller and two: he was twice her weight. She whipped around frantically trying to get a purchase on one of his limbs but he had been through this before with Kate. He knew the tactic. She caught his arm and heaved but he used his weight against her dragging her to floor and sitting astride her, pinning her arms to the mat behind her head.

She lay there panting, looking up at him with murder on her face.

"I can't breath," she gasped.

"Oh, sorry," he replied, automatically shifting his weight to dismount.

The moment she had room, Ziva kneed him hard in the groin. His cup gave a loud 'thunk' which echoed through the gym. Then using his groin as a pivot point, Ziva heaved McGee over her head with all her might to thump on the mat behind her. He gasped in pain and winced for a moment then rallied to throw her slight body to the mat and sit astride her again.

"I thought you said you weren't going to kick me there," he panted.

"I lied," she growled at him, thrashing about.

McGee looked down at her wild eyes. While debating how to get off her without risking permanent injury, he absently released his grip on her arms and in a moment she had flashed out her hand and sunk her fingers into the discs of his neck.

He turned to stone. Every muscle froze solid but more worryingly, his autonomic functions seemed to have switched off. He couldn't blink, swallow, or more importantly: breath. After a fair amount of exertion, his body had got sort of used to a fresh influx of oxygen and he was missing that the most. His adrenal glands seemed to be working fine: panic seized his paralysed body.

He felt her wiggle out from under him, keeping her grip tight on his neck. Then standing before him, she used her other hand to grab the front of his throat where his carotid artery lay.

His field of vision was filled with Ziva's vengeful face, her black eyes boring into him. He tried desperately to convey to her through his eyes that death was imminent. The picture of her face before him began to grey out.

"What the hell are you doing?" he heard Gibbs yell across the gym.

Suddenly Ziva's face melted, her eyes opening wide at the realisation of what she was doing. She gasped and released her grip on him at once, pulling both hands to her face. "I'm so sorry McGee."

He crashed to the mat, face down, limbs flung at awkward angles, gasping desperately for air. He swallowed hard once to remove the excess saliva which had built up and gasped some more. His eyes seemed to have shut of their own accord and he couldn't seem to raise his eyelids. It was a secondary consideration; he needed oxygen first and foremost. The enormous breaths he took seemed too large for his lung capacity making every breath painful.

"Can you move your legs?" he could hear Gibbs asking but if there was one thing Timothy McGee could do, it was prioritize and right now, attempting to move his probably paralysed body or answer his boss were a far lower priority than re-oxygenating.

"Can you feel this?" he heard Tony's voice and someone kicked him in the leg.

"Ahhhh," he cried out. At least he had enough air now to divert his energies to pain management.

It was official: Tony would kick him when he was down. McGee heard the satisfying thwack of Gibbs hitting Tony on the back of the head.

As his breathing evened out he became aware of a soft moaning voice repeating, "I'm so sorry."

He prised his eyelids open and saw Ziva at a very obscure angle hugging herself and rocking.

"I'm fine," he rasped in a muffled voice half directed at the mat.

"Can you move?" he heard Gibbs demand again.

"Ahhh, um, I think so." He dragged one leaden arm across the mat.

"What have you done to him, Officer David?" Gibbs said harshly.

"I don't know," she said hesitantly. McGee could tell she was nervous; she was talking too quickly making her accent more pronounced. "I've never seen anyone walk away from it. It's a move designed to kill. It takes minutes, quiet effective…"

McGee whimpered in alarm.

"I did stop early," she consoled him.

He tried to take solace in this but failed. Slowly and painfully he rolled onto his back, every movement requiring a supreme effort of will. His throat felt swollen and bruised but he could move each of his limbs. He tried to get up but a pain shot through his neck and down his spine.

"Stay put McGee," Gibbs ordered. "Tony get an ambulance"

Later in the lab:

"So I hear Ziva kicked your butt today," said Abby cheerfully.

McGee twisted his entire body towards her, restricted by the neck brace he was wearing.

"That she did," he confirmed.