Title: Life and Death
Pairing: None, leans toward McGee/Ziva if you want to read it that way
Rating: K
Genre: Episode Tag, Friendship, a bit of UST
Cat: Gen
Spoilers: Tag for Engaged, past 2
Warnings: None.
Summary: Ziva lets McGee in on something she's realized from her time in Afghanistan.
Author's Note: Yeah, this is later than usual, but I was having issues. Haha.
McGee was standing at the copy machine when he felt someone collide into his back with a soft, "Oof!" He narrowed his eyes and glanced over his shoulder, smirking when he saw who it was.
"You should really consider watching where you're walking, Ziva," he teased, turning and grinning at her. "Usually prevents accidents."
Rather than make a snarky comeback, Ziva yawned, stifling it with a hand over her mouth. "I am sorry, McGee. I am still getting used to being back in America, I suppose."
He nodded, feeling more sympathetic. "So, how was it?"
She tensed, but relaxed just as quickly, though not quickly enough for McGee not to notice. He gave her a concerned look and she shrugged. "I did not expect it to be as difficult as it was." She paused, as though she wanted to say more, then gave him a forced smile and started to walk away, but McGee's hand on her arm stopped her. She glanced down at his fingers, then up to his face, finding his eyes too honest to avoid.
She let out a sigh and leaned against the copy machine. "Those girls. . . At first I was just glad they were alive, had not been killed by the men who captured them. And then. . ." She shook her head. "They were tortured. No innocent person should have to go through that, especially not a child."
McGee kept quiet, partially because he didn't want to end her story, and partially from not knowing what to say in response. He wasn't there; he hadn't experienced it the way she had.
"And then, a soldier died in front of me," she continued, her voice quiet. "I promised him I would tell his family he loved them." She rubbed a thumb over the back of one of her hands, as though his blood was still there. "It is so hard, being around so much death." She straightened and met McGee's eyes then, forcing another smile onto her face. "I am sorry, I am probably not making your day any better, McGee. Thank you for listening." She started to walk past him, brushing her fingers against his arm, when he called her name.
"Ziva, wait." She paused, then turned. His expression was still serious, concerned. "Don't feel like you can't talk about what happened, whether it's to me or someone else. You should know we're always here if you want to talk."
Ziva stared at him for a moment before giving him a genuine smile and nodding. "I know." She laughed a little. "Does not mean I don't feel badly for depressing you."
McGee gave her a half-smile and shrugged a shoulder, reaching to retrieve the papers he'd come to copy in the first place. "Can't say it's any worse than my average day at work."
Ziva laughed at that and rolled her eyes, then bit her lip. "Can I tell you a secret, McGee?"
He raised his eyebrows in interest. "Sure. I love secrets."
She smiled and shook her head at his antics, then leaned in closer. "Every time I am around children, I wish I had one of my own. Especially when I see children who have been mistreated, in whatever way. I just want to keep them safe. I suppose that is overly romantic of me, yes?"
McGee shook his head, saying, "I think it just says something about you as a person, Ziva." She just raised an eyebrow at him and he continued, his expression warm. "Like that you'd make a really great mom."
Ziva turned her face away from him then, feeling slightly embarrassed by his words, though she could not keep the smile from her face. "I. . ."
She was interrupted by McGee suddenly circling an arm around her waist and pulling her to him, leaving her words hung up in her throat. She felt her heartbeat increase despite herself, unsure of what exactly his intents were. . .
"Sorry," he muttered after a moment, unwrapping his arm from around her. She stepped back from him, swallowing and trying to calm her heart. "There was someone coming and he wasn't really paying attention. Would've run you right over."
Ziva let out a breath. "Of course." She blamed the intimate detail she'd just shared with him, the honest moment they'd had, for her reaction, and gave him a smile. "Well, ah, thank you again. I will definitely think of you in the future anytime I feel the urge to talk."
"Anytime, Ziva," he said, and gave her a pointed look. "And I mean that. I'm always here." He gave her another smile and walked past her, brushing his fingers over hers as he went.
Ziva turned and watched him walk away, her thoughts busy and conflicted. She thought back to the girls, to the soldier who had died before her, to all the others she'd watched die . . . then she shook her head. It did her no good to focus on death. There was so much for which she had to be grateful, so many possibilities for the future, and the thought of a child of her own filled her with warmth.
She collected herself and walked back to her desk, having forgotten why she had walked over there in the first place, and glanced over and met McGee's gaze as she sat down. He smiled at her before returning to his work and Ziva echoed his expression.
Who knew what the future would bring?
THE END!