Title: Seeing the Scars
Fandom: NCIS
Author: Alidiabin
Words: 895
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Parings: None
Warnings: Mentions of Somalia.
Rating: T
Summary: Tim McGee was actually the first person to see Ziva's scars. Even if it was by accident.
Seeing the Scars
Timothy no middle initial McGee had been the first person to see Ziva's scars bar for the medical professionals who sanitised them and sheltered them. Even Abby who had been the lone person approved to stay in the same room as Ziva in the hospital had only seen the waxen bandages.
He had never intended to see them. Ziva turned up at his door one cool November daybreak in a shapeless grey generic NCIS tracksuit. McGee had dazedly unfastened the door rather surprised at his dawn visitor.
"Where's Jethro?" Ziva had asked fully awake no doubt due to the assistance of Gibbs black brew, as it was obvious to any stranger and to her friends that she was not sleeping due to the dark rings fencing her haunted chocolate eyes. The aging and growing (outwards at least) dog looked up and flopped back on his black skull embodied doggy bed, which had been a present from Abby, in soundless objection having gotten used to less frequent and less gruelling hikes. It had taken McGee a full minute to realise the Ziva was going to take the dog for a walk. Just as she had before Somalia. Ziva simply strode in and grabbed the lead and placed it on the dog "Honestly McGee you've let the poor animal get fat." McGee nodded and watched groggily as his abnormally awake friend left with the dog. He strolled toward his messy bedroom and prayed he'd get some much needed sleep.
Gibbs and a dead marine, on the other hand, had other ideas. McGee's phone vibrated piercingly and he twisted in his blue stripped sheets to answer it. He expressed a word his mother would not endorse of and picked up the screaming phone. The NCIS MCRT had a case.
Ziva appeared to have gotten the call too. Twenty minutes after McGee had been called and be which point he was showered and dressed and making it on to coffee number two, yet still not quite awake. Ziva materialised with a panting Jethro in tow. The dog simply fell to the floor as soon as he crossed the threshold of the door.
"Did you get the call?" McGee asked already knowing the answer, but dreadfully trying to fracture the hush, as they stewed in awkwardness.
"Yes" Ziva uttered "Can you cover for me while I go back to the Navy lodge and change" she enquired as she moved toward the door cautious to avoid the dog that was being melodramatic and panting noisily and frequently.
"If you have your gear in your car you can use my shower" McGee said as he collected Jethro's breakfast food from the cupboard, which made the animal forget its supposed exercise exhaustion. Ziva stopped appearing to hesitate.
"Ok" she responded, leaving his apartment to collect her go bag from the company car she had been loaned.
It had taken a minute of Ziva humming under the awning of his shower, to make McGee realised he had left his colleague without any towels. He headed towards the bathroom collecting his cleaner and slightly feminine guest towels from the closet in his bedroom. He knocked on the door.
"Ziva" he shouted "I realised I forgot to put towel in there" he got no reply as he knocked on the door.
McGee discovered that in the hurry, Ziva had overlooked bolting the door. So he minimally pressed it causing it to open. He walked ahead with his head down to conserve Ziva's modesty. He placed the towels on the rack.
As he walked out he caught himself staring at the shower. The steam seemed to protect Ziva's modesty and she had her back to him whilst humming some obscure song by the Israeli band 'Asaf Avidan and the Mojos' who frequently spammed up her facebook page. His eyes noticed something. Lines of scars. Neat lines. Periodic lines. He scurried out. Closing the door.
He walked back to his kitchen and poured himself a third coffee. It was unnecessary but he needed to divert his brain. All he saw were the periodic scars. Skeletal lines. His imagination, a part of him he had once loved, went into overdrive. He pictured Salim standing above her. A knife out. Wounding her olive skin. Asking her for Intel on NCIS.
Ziva walked out of McGee's bathroom. She had sensed him come in. She had hoped that McGee being the true gentlemen had kept his head low and not gawked. But she had heard the stop. Pictured his jaw dropping as he imagined how she acquired her scars. She had heard him scurry away in her perceived fear of her body.
McGee watched her emerge fully dressed in a long shirt and high waisted pants. He looked at the coffee cup, as the awkwardness level in the room rose like the temperature on a July day. Ziva whispered her goodbyes to Jethro, who was still being over the top by lying on the ground puffing. She turned to McGee and chose to pursue his strategy of ignorance.
"I bet I'll beat you there" Ziva uttered before darting out.
McGee may have been the first to see her scars but two day's later after a chaotic case. He sat at his typewriter petrified to fall asleep. In case the bony crimson outlines were all he saw in his nightmares.
A/N: R&R