This was just a spur of the moment thing I came up with when I saw that one of the defining eps of the sixth season, which is yet to come, is titled 'Semper Fi'. I know I should finish my other stories but please have mercy...

Hope my English is not too bad, I'm rather tired at the moment. To be honest, I was already in bed but couldn't sleep... so it's like the middle of the night now...


No words were needed when Ziva opened up the door to him. She opened the door further and he stepped inside, brushing his body against hers, stopping right next to her.

Ziva had to crane her neck sideways to look into his eyes. His gaze was piercing … hurting. His eyes reflected the horrors they'd had to encounter only hours earlier.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Tony collected himself up from the concrete, his eyes following the car he'd just been shoved out of, when the explosion happened. He quickly covered his face with his left arm, glad for his jeans jacket, as unbearable and merciless heat engulfed him. The noises almost ruptured his eardrums. Tony cowered as debris from the now destroyed car rained down on him.

Were that sirens in the distance? He was sure he heard people running, they were coming nearer.

"Tony? Tony?" The voices, albeit right next to him, sounded distant. Far away.

"Tony look at me!" But he couldn't. Couldn't take his eyes off the burning remnants of the black standard-issued vehicle. And that's when McGee realised.

"Tony? Gibbs… is he…?"

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

They'd had yet to utter a single word as Ziva slowly closed the door. Tony just stood there, motionless, as if something, someone, had drained all life from him. When she turned towards him again, she saw the tears brimming in his eyes, ready to fall. The whole day Tony'd had to be strong, emotionless, had to set an example. He'd had to hold it together so others, who looked up to him now, could fall apart.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The first thing Tony consciously noticed was a sharp intake of breath. It was the first time, if only for a moment, that his eyes left the burning car. Ziva stood a few feet behind him and McGee. She held her gun loosely by her side, and her eyes viewed the wreckage in front of her in horror. Tony could see the disbelief washing over her features and she shook her head a few times, before her eyes found his and her gaze burned into his. He closed his eyes momentarily and gave a tiny nod and that's when Ziva knew.

Tony, still sitting on the ground, turned forward again, not able to avert his gaze. Ziva was next to him in an instant, but she wouldn't, couldn't meet his gaze.

"Are you hurt?"

He could only shake his head silently as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Cars and trucks pulled up around them. Fire men, ambulances, police cars. Everything began to move, became hectic, as the arriving authorities tried to get the situation under control.

But the three of them stayed. McGee, standing next to his friend, a silent tear rolling down his cheek; but his shoulders squared in new-found determination.

Tony still sat on the floor. His tired and tortured mind still trying to comprehend everything, but he was sure that this scene was burned into his memory forever.

Ziva stood on Tony's other side. Her head was lowered and her lips were moving wordlessly in prayer.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"No drinking?"

Tony shook his head. He dared not speak, afraid that his voice wavered, broke. Ziva nodded. That was good. She took Tony's hand and led him to her bedroom without further words. The other agent didn't need to have it spelled out for him as he took off his shoes and jeans and crawled under the covers as Ziva turned out the lights.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

When the last flames were extinguished and it was deemed safe, Tony scrambled off the street and took an unsteady step towards the wreck. His legs nearly gave out, but Ziva and McGee were next to him in an instant, holding him upright with their arms around his waist and his upper arms. Tony was thankful for their touch. It felt to him like a source of warmth and strength.

Ducky came towards them, his trademark hat in one hand. When had he gotten here? How long had they stood there?

The medical examiner sadly shook his head when he stood in front of the three of them and held his other hand out to them. It held something small and black, yet slender.

When nobody moved McGee carefully loosened his hand from around Tony's arm and took what Ducky extended to them. He flipped it open. His thumb moved over the NCIS badge, trying to remove the grime. Tony's and Ziva's eyes were trained on it as well.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

When all lights were out Ziva slipped under the covers next to him, her cold hands searching for him in the dark. Their bodies met in the middle of the bed, arms wrapping around each other, legs intertwining until Ziva's head came to rest underneath his chin. One of his hands drew a small pattern on her back and Ziva wondered where Tony got all his strength from. The whole day he'd been the example of calmness, composure and certainty, when she was sure all he wanted to do was cry. But even now, even as he came to her in the middle of the night, clearly trying to find an out, he still provided her comfort and a feeling of security.

One of her hands came to rest on is chest, lying just above his heart, feeling its steady beat.

Tony stiffened underneath her. He wanted to say something.

"Gibbs…he…" he swallowed deeply, his voice thick with emotion. "we were driving and suddenly he pushed me out of the car." Ziva could feel him shaking his head in disbelief.

"He knew the car was going to blow up and he pushed me out of it. He even sped up, trying to get as far away from me as possible."

This was the moment Ziva had been waiting for. When the burden of leadership lessened for a moment and nobody would judge him for showing emotions. She felt his tears as his body rocked with sobs.

"He saved my life. The damn bastard saved my life."


Ziva's eyes swept over the many flowers next to a picture of Gibbs. There had to be hundreds of them. She recognised the black roses as Abby's next to the sea of zinnias, roses, petunias, lilies, irises and hyacinths and more that were from Tony and her.

She had insisted on the purple hyacinths especially since she knew them to mean 'I am sorry'. Tony hadn't cared, just handed her his credit card and fallen back into his stupor. Ziva's eyes travelled to him on the podium and she felt the immense rush of guilt again. She couldn't do anything about it. Tony had asked her yesterday if she was okay. If anything, he knew what guilt looked like.

But she couldn't tell him. Not yesterday, not ever. She was too afraid he might hate her, for she hated herself already for it. How could she tell him she was glad Gibbs had sacrificed himself for Tony?

"…Gibbs never followed any paths, but his moral integrity always found the right way by enforcing what he adjudged as right. And he sure didn't make many friends with that method, but that was the prize he had to pay for greatness. And a great man he was. His trust was not earned easily, but once you could luckily call yourself his friend, it was worth everything. For Gibbs gave everything for his friends. Jethro Gibbs not only saved my life, he is the reason I have something worth living for. I tried to be a better person because of him. I know I can never pay him back, but I will try for the rest of my life, living by what he left behind: The belief in honesty, trust and courage and the conviction and will to carry on.

Semper Fi!"