The delicate fan which Ziva held was beginning to wear and tear as she violently shook it back and forth. Proper ladies of yore would have been aghast to see her fan herself as furiously as she did, rather than using prim, light flicks of the wrist to cool herself with the paper fan. At the moment, however, Ziva couldn't care less about appearing prim and proper.

"Good gracious!" she exclaimed. "Is it natural to feel this hot?"

"I wouldn't know," Abby said with a smile.

"Not one of the Israeli summers I've experienced has ever been nearly so hot."

"It's the nerves."

"Aw, is the big, bad ninja nervous?"

The girls turned to see Tony's head peeking through the door. He grinned as he looked them over, his eyes gleaming. "I never thought I'd live to see the day that Ziva let anything make her sweat."

Ziva, already on edge, boiled up inside. "Get out of here!" she hissed. She chucked the fan at him, having no knives currently on her. "Out!"

"Whoa!" he cried as he ducked away from the thrown object. "It's not like anyone is naked in here…right?" He stepped in further, glancing around the small room.

"What do you need, Tony?"

"I just wanted to check up on you. McGee made me."

"Oh, that's so sweet!" Abby gushed. Even Ziva had to smile at that.

"Yeah, so when I do it I'm a pervert, but when it's been sanctioned by McGeek it's 'sweet,'" he grumbled.

"I am fine, Tony."

"Is that why you were beating the crap out of that fan?"

"I am nervous. I have not done this before."

"Hopefully, you'll never do it again," Abby commented.

"Either way, I am fine. You can tell him that," Ziva assured. "And tell him to relax."

Abby snickered. "Knowing Tim, he's probably running a rut in the floor by pacing back and forth."

"That, or he has begun hyperventilating," Ziva added, thankful that she'd thought to supply him with a copious amount of paper bags. "Of course, I do not have much room to talk." Truth be told, her heart was beginning to beat much faster than it ever had before and beads of sweat had begun to form on her forehead. Ziva rarely faced anything that could make her feel so frightened and yet so excited all at once.

"Probie's about to have a heart attack," Tony said. "I slipped some whiskey into the Coke I brought him just to calm him down a bit."

"Tony! Don't get Tim drunk!" Abby chided.

"That's what friends do for each other!"

"If Timothy is slurring his words when I see him, I will seek revenge," Ziva promised, her eyes darkening. She was nervous enough as it was; she didn't need the added apprehension of having to take care of a plastered Tim. "Now go," she ordered. "I do not need you here right now."

When Tony returned, Tim all but pounced on him. "How is she?"

"She said to tell you she's fine, but I can see that she's a bit on edge, McGee. She nearly bit my head off."

"Well, gee, you've never had that effect on people before."

"Don't think I won't smack you."

Tony grabbed a can of soda from the stock he'd brought. He poured it into a cup, adding a kick of alcohol from the flask he'd hidden in his pocket. He offered it to Tim who accepted it graciously.

"This tastes weird," he commented. He had a feeling there was more than just soda in there, but he didn't press the issue. It helped with his nerves and he desperately needed that. Still, all of the alcohol in the world couldn't completely put him at ease.

Tim downed the rest of the drink and sank down into one of the chairs. "I don't know if I'm ready for this, Tony."

"Ah, my poor Probie. He's becoming a man!"

"I mean it! I just…I mean, I want this…I know I do. I'm just not sure that I'm ready."

Tony took a seat beside him, offering a friendly shoulder squeeze. "McGee, if anyone is ready for this, it's you."

He shrugged. "I guess it's too late now either way."

"Well, it's never too late…" Tony trailed off uncertainly.

"No. No, I want this," Tim said firmly. "I want this…I know I do. It's just…well, it's scary, you know?"

"Uh, no, I don't know, McGee. I haven't really gotten here yet." Tony paused, wanting to offer moral support to the anxious man. "But I can imagine it must be nerve-racking."

A figure appeared before them. "Mr. McGee?" the man asked. Tim stood, ready for this next step in his life. "It's time."

Tony clapped Tim on the back, propelling him forward. "Show time, kid."

He stood there, simply watching. He wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to be doing. Usually the guy just stood there while the woman did all the work. She was the center of attention, not him.

Then she appeared, a figure in white lace. She ambled down the aisle smoothly. Nothing in her expression or her body implied that she was at all nervous about this. Then again, Ziva always had a knack for making things look easy. She rarely broke a sweat in anything she did.

Tim began unconsciously wringing his hands as she made her way toward him. She moved at an agonizingly slow pace – though he knew that was common for weddings. It seemed as though hours had gone by before she was finally there, standing before him. He lifted the veil up, dropping it over the back of her head. His hands encased hers, squeezing them slightly when she smiled up at him.

In that moment it all felt so right.

The End!