This was supposed to be part of a bigger story but since I pretty much stopped writing I figured I'd share this. I just find it so cute.
Ziva sat on Gibbs' couch, her head in her hands, her elbows on her knees. Exhausted but refusing to fall asleep. Her whole body was sore. She forced herself to keep her eyes open even though her head was giving her a hard time. Gibbs had gone straight upstairs when they had come here and she was too tired to think of a reason. She just hoped he'd come back because sitting there she felt left alone. A clock was ticking somewhere and even though it did not help her headache, a clock was far better that the noises you were surrounded by in a hospital.
She lifted her head a little and looked around. Maybe she could make it to the kitchen sink to get some water. The painkillers were probably still in one of the bags at the front door but she didn't want those yet. She stood slowly and then turned her head a little too sudden when she sensed Gibbs coming back downstairs. Her vision blurred temporarily and she had to sit back down – or rather let herself fall back onto the couch.
Gibbs stood beside her when she reopened her eyes. "Easy," He said, "you ok?"
She gave him a nod and closed her eyes again, still feeling a little dizzy.
He turned around and left for the kitchen. "I'll get you something to drink."
She could not even ask herself how he'd known what she had wanted. The cool liquid she swallowed a few moments later helped pushing away the cloud in her head and when she could think more clearly she finally responded again.
"Thank you. I turned my head too quickly."
"I'm gonna go get the pain meds and a glass of water, ok?" He asked.
She nodded ever so slightly and since she was too exhausted to fight him, she let him do what he thought was best. "Yes and could I borrow some of your clothes? This is the only outfit I have and it will not look good if I sleep in it."
He indicated to the coffee table before them where an old NIS shirt and a pair of black pajamas lay.
She tiredly smiled her thanks as he got up. "I'll just be in the kitchen if you need me."
Ziva, very grateful that he gave her some privacy, started to unfold the clothes. Her fingers barely managed to open the pair of loose jeans that Gibbs had purchased for her in order to be allowed to leave the hospital. The shoes were lazily kicked off as they were at least two sizes too big. As she changed into the pajamas and tied them together – she was far too thin for them to fit – she realized that she could not wear the T-shirt that Gibbs had left for her. The sleeves would only cover her arms until her elbows and she did not want to reveal her scars just yet. She contemplated asking him for a pullover but she didn't think that she was up to lying to him so when Gibbs came back a few minutes later he found her wearing her shirt and his pajamas.
"You need help undressing?" The question was out before he could think about it and if he hadn't been Gibbs he might have actually blushed but Ziva didn't think anything by it.
She shook her head. "No. I am fine, where do I sleep?"
"Listen we've been over this, if you need help, I'll help you." He said, then looking away he added more quietly. "It's not like I haven't seen it all before."
I doubt that… She sighed uncomfortably and refused to look at him. "It is not that. I just… I…" She hugged herself and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to compose herself.
"I could make a fire if you're cold." Gibbs offered and went over to the fireplace.
"I am not cold, Gibbs." She said, defeated.
He didn't reply to that. She knew he wanted a straight answer and she was too tired to think of another excuse. He wouldn't let it go anyway. She decided that she'd do just that, give him a straight answer. He wouldn't like it and he'd probably be disgusted but if he wanted it that way.. She was snapped out of her thoughts by Gibbs clearing his throat.
"I have scars, Gibbs." She choked out, surprised by how easy the words had left her lips and by the taste they left. She felt as if she had just undressed in front of him. Do not go there..
She wouldn't look him in the eye after that. He went to sit beside her on the couch and for a long moment, her former Boss didn't know what to say.
Was she really afraid of him seeing her scars? Ha had dealt with them for weeks by now, with the invisible ones anyway. He couldn't think of anything to say, and came to the conclusion that there wasn't much that could be said. In a knee-jerk reaction he pulled his shirt over his head, baring his chest. "Look at me, Ziver." He said.
But Ziva kept her eyes trained on the floor before her, painfully aware that beside her, Gibbs had pulled of his shirt.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, Ziver. Just look at me."
She could not think straight, her body was so tense that it hurt her already sore muscles. Closing her eyes she tried really hard to keep the panic from taking control over her body. Suddenly she sought in a breath and then concentrated on breathing regularly for a minute or two before she looked in his eyes. He held up his hand for her to see before slowly taking one of hers. She stared at her seemingly small hand in his. Gibbs guided her hand to his shoulder, making sure that her gaze never left their fingers.
He let her hand rest on the side of his upper arm were a scar was still very visible and put his hand over hers to keep it there. "Feel that?" he asked, "Bullet grazed me. I almost lost consciousness before putting a bullet in the guy responsible."
Without waiting for her reaction he took her hand again and put it a few inches over his collar-bone where her half-brother had hit him in autopsy all those years ago. "Guess you know the story behind that one," he said without even a hint of bitterness in his voice. He then moved their hands to his other arm where you could barely make out what must have been a really nasty wound once. "That was in Columbia, almost two decades ago. Got shot by a sniper. Almost killed me if not for that woman in the little village."
He let go of her hand which she immediately took advantage of, he eyes on the floor again. He reached for his shirt and put it on. "I've seen scars, not only mine but the ones of my marine buddies and the ones on the corpses in autopsy. You can trust me with yours."
Gibbs didn't expect her to answer. He just stood and pointed at the staircase, "I'm gonna bring your stuff upstairs," he said. Then he went to grab the bag he had brought for her and carried it upstairs, leaving her to think.
Thank you for reading. :)
