Another piece that I found tucked away in a book. It was Anna Karenina this time, which would suggest it was written at about the same time as Routines was. This is just a one shot though, because I really have no idea how to continue it any further from where it is, and I do not think it needs furthering anyway, because I like it how it is.

Connection

McGee bit his lip and redialled the number that he had tried so many times since they had returned. He snapped his phone shut and stood up, edging over to see the woman sat on the floor behind her desk. She had been silent since they left the hospital. She had been still ever since she sat down, her knees hugged tight to her chest. Her eyes were fixed to her hands, the bloodstains that she still hadn't washed off. The cuff of the beige sweater that she wore was saturated in the sticky red liquid; along with red splodges all up her front from where she had removed her bulletproof vest. She wasn't responding to anything around her. He had never seen her so…shaken. She was the strongest woman he knew and she was sat alone with her thoughts, torment flickering through her eyes as if she was reliving the scenes she had just witnessed over and over like they were on repeat and there was no off switch. McGee didn't even want to contemplate what was going through her head. He was pretty certain it was not a place that anyone would go voluntarily.

"Hey, McGee." Gibbs walked over quietly.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"She okay?"

"No. Nobody's been able to get through to her. She just stares at her hands."

"She in shock?"

"Possibly. Ducky checked her over, but there's nothing physically wrong."

"Where's DiNozzo?"

"I've been trying to reach him. If anyone can pull her back to reality, it's Tony." McGee shrugged and pulled his phone out again. "He's not been picking up."

"Keep trying. Twice more then trace the cell."

"Boss, he and Ziva…they've got a…connection. It's like they know what the other's thinking without needing to talk."

"Yeah. I see it." He nodded and sighed at the sight of his liaison officer, so out of character, breaking under the pressure of everything that had happened.

"What's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing. Nothing, no, I'm just thinking."

"You've been thinking all through lunch." Jeanne smiled and covered his hand with hers. "Must be pretty serious?"

"No. I've just got this not-so-great feeling, y'know. I'm worried but I don't know why. Mm, probably just that seafood dish from last night." He shrugged and smiled at her.

"There is a phone call for you, Sir." The waiter appeared, holding a phone.

"Tony?" Her face was a picture of confusion and all Tony could do was shrug.

"Who is it?"

"Uh, a Mr McGee?"

"Right. I've got to take this. Sorry." He looked apologetically at her and stood up.

"Tony? Why the hell is your phone off? Gibbs is angry and Ziva…Ziva…"

"Ziva? What's wrong with Ziva?" He didn't care how McGee had found him, it wasn't the time.

"Well, you would know if you were here, wouldn't you! You missed the arrest."

"McGee, what happened?" Tony hissed, casting a look over to where Jeanne sat at their table picking at her lunch.

"She…look, you just need to get back here. Ziva needs you, Tony, now."

"I…I'll see what I can do." He groaned. He needed an excuse to leave lunch early, and he didn't think another crisis in the film department at the university was going to cut it this time – after all, how many emergencies could a university film department have? He handed the phone back to the waiter and made his way back to the table. "I have a family emergency. My cousin fell down the stairs."

"I didn't know you had a cousin?"

"No, well, we don't talk very often, but she's, uh, she just needs someone to go get her kids from school."

"Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no. It's a long drive so I need to get going right away and, uh, they just need to be taken to their Dad's house." Wow, this lie was getting bigger by the second. "Sorry to cut lunch short."

"No, it's fine. Go to your cousin's kids." She smiled. "I'll need to be back at work soon anyway."

"Ah, beautiful and clever. What more could I wish for." He smiled falsely and kissed her cheek. "Okay, I've got to go."

"McGee, what's wrong with Ziva?" Tony asked as he ran into the squad room.

"She's just…" He pointed to Ziva, still sat, as she was when he had started calling Tony, still staring at her bloodstained hands.

"What happened?"

"We went to arrest the guy at the hospital. He ran to the paediatric ward, started shooting. A little girl got caught in the crossfire. She tried to save her."

"And no-one thought to clean the blood from her hands?" His tone was harsh.

"Uh, I don't…"

"Go get a bowl of warm water and a cloth, McGee." Tony snapped. He nodded and fumbled about before hurrying away. Tony walked over to Ziva and crouched down in front of her. "Hey, Sweetcheeks. You okay?" She stayed frozen. He noticed the red sleeve and sighed, standing up and heading over to his desk. Yanking the drawer open with more force than necessary, he pulled out a shirt from his reserve of spares and crossed back over to her. McGee hurried back in with the bowl and the cloth, sloshing water over the side as he rounded the corner. He placed them down and walked back to his desk as Tony muttered a curt 'Thank you'. He took her hands in his and soaked the cloth, starting to gently wipe off the blood. "It's okay." She raised her eyes to meet his, the first movement since she sat down.

"I could have saved her."

"If you could have saved her you would have." He continued to clean her skin, not letting it escape his notice how soft it was.

"I should have saved her." Her voice was weak. He had never seen her so fragile.

"What's done is done, Ziva. You can't change the past." He patted her damp hands dry before smiling at her. "Your sweater's dirty. Do you want to change it?" He took her silence as a yes. "Okay. We can go to the head and you can change into one of my shirts. How about that?" She just gripped his hand. "There's blood on it, Ziva. You don't want to sit wearing something with blood on it. Come on." He tried to get her to stand up, but she just looked at him, her eyes imploring him not to make her move. He sighed. "Hey, McGee, make sure no-one comes over here. And don't look."

"Tony, what are you…"

"McGee!"

"Okay, okay." Tony lifted her arms and cautiously peeled her beige sweater up, swallowing at the sight of her in just a lilac camisole vest and her cargo pants. He closed his eyes and tried to get back on topic, suddenly very aware of how close they were and how much of a distraction the image of her was going to be later on, when he needed to concentrate on work. He opened his eyes and exhaled slowly, the broken look on her face enough to snap him back to reality. He carefully tugged the sleeves of his pale blue button-down over her arms.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?" He did the buttons up, focusing on each round disc to keep his mind from what was underneath the shirt. How was he attracted to her even in just a camisole? He had seen her naked, and all it was taking was the sight of her in a vest top to ignite feelings that were definitely very inappropriate for a colleague to be having.

"Where were you?"

He sighed as he rolled the sleeves of the shirt up. "I wasn't with you. That's all that matters." He shuffled so he was sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"It was her fifth birthday. She was being discharged today." Her voice was empty, complementing her glazed over eyes. "She had this white dress on and she was clutching a doll in her hand." The first of the sobs wracked her body and she pressed her face into his chest, saturating his shirt with her salty tears. "The doctors, they could not do anything. It was so chaotic and other people were injured and she just lay in my arms. There was blood everywhere. She was so cold and I could only hold her." She gripped his shirt, her hands clenching and unclenching into fists as she relived it. "She asked me if I was an angel to take her to heaven."

He rubbed soothing circles on her back, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "And what did you say?"

"I told her that she was not going anywhere."

"You did all you could."

"But I did not save her." Her crying grew harder and louder and people started to stare at the usually calm and collected Mossad assassin.

"You can't save them all, Ziva."

"She was just a child. She was so small."

"I know." He rocked her slowly back and forth, regretting every minute that he was away from her.

Slowly, her tears subsided to soft whimpers. "She looked like Tali."

He pressed his lips to her forehead and held her shaking body tighter, looking up to see his boss nod down at them subtly from where he was sat at his desk and Tony nodded back in reply. The silent form of communication, different to the silent communication between him and Ziva, said that she was going to be okay. It would take time, but one day she would be okay, and he would be there for her for as long as she needed him, as they all would. They were all going to be okay.

Until the next time, and then it would be her turn to comfort him.

Et voila! What do you think? I do not think it is as good as some of the things I have written, but then I think it is better than other things I have written, so it all balances out in the end.

For my reference: 37th NCIS fic.