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"Tony…" she whimpered, gripping his hand tighter, the slow pulse her only comfort. The hand grew even paler, and Gibbs reached over, prying her fingers away and transferring her death grip to his own sweating hand. Ziva leaned into him, breaking down into tears.
"It should have hit me…"
"Ziver-" Gibbs said with a tone of warning.
"The car hit the passenger side-"
"I know-"
"He leaned over, he was protecting me-"
"Abby has the cars, Ziva."
"Gibbs-"
Her eyes met his, but she was unable to choke anything else out.
"Tell him, Ziver."
Gibbs pulled away from her gently, laying a soft kiss on one of her trembling hands.
"When he wakes up."
He stood up slowly, placing her hands back onto the crisp white sheets of Tony's hospital bed. He kissed her hair and walked to the door, pausing for a moment to look back at his two injured team members. He gritted his teeth, closed the door, and flipped his phone open.
"Anything else?" the waitress solicited, smiling coyly at the customer as she placed the coffee cup by his left hand.
"No, thank you," he responded brusquely, checking that the screen of his laptop was out of the view of her curious eyes. As he slid the earwig into his ear and began muttering in Hebrew, the waitress walked back to the counter. He peered at her ass for a moment before yanking the earwig out and stuffing it and his laptop into a large black briefcase. He straightened his lapels and stood up, extending his hand to the man approaching him.
"Hadar, Shalom," he said politely, gesturing to the seat across from his.
"Shalom, my friend. It has been too long, Ilan."
"Ducky?" McGee distractedly answered his phone as he dragged himself through security.
"Can you come-Timothy, where are you?"
"Just getting in. I had to pick Sarah up late last night. You need me?"
"You could say so," Ducky said softly.
McGee tucked his badge into his pocket and ensured that his gun was in its proper place. He sent a quick text to Abby that he would meet her by her lab, knowing she was already in for work but not in autopsy. She met him excitedly, hugging him tightly and shoving him back into the elevator. After her excitement faded the worry streaked her face. McGee kissed her cheek.
"They're going to be okay, Abby. I promise."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"I don't care what Homeland has to say about it. These are my people!" Leon griped strongly.
"I understand, Leon-"
"No, you don't-"
"But you're biased on this ma-"
"We're all biased on this matter!"
"Particularly NCIS!"
The door flung open. Leon vaguely disguised a smirk of pride as McGee strode into the office. The man had indeed learned a good deal from Gibbs.
"We're done here," Leon stated firmly. McGee exchanged a glance with the Secretary as the man huffed and walked toward the door.
"I can't have your back on this one, Leon. This isn't just Bodnar or Mossad we're talking about. You're fighting the CIA, FBI, Homeland, everybody."
"We're done here," he reiterated. "But thank you for your input, Secretary."
The door closed and Leon looked to McGee expectantly.
"And Gibbs?"
"On his way now."
"Keep me as informed as you can."
"Yes, Director," McGee nodded.
The door to autopsy couldn't open quickly enough for Abby. She rushed in, pulling McGee by the hand even though he was perfectly capable of walking on his own. As soon as they could hear one another, Jimmy began spurting words.
"Palmer! Palmer, slow down!" McGee jumped, and Ducky interjected, handing evidence to Abby.
"I believe that you will find…that this man is indeed one of Bodnar's associates."
"Abby, could you try to find out-"
"If he was either tracking them or ordered to hit them or both?"
"Perfect," McGee grinned lightly, turning back to Ducky. "Anything else?"
"Nothing else substantial," Ducky said. "This is my report. It will tell you everything we know so far."
McGee pulled the folder into his hand.
"Thanks, Ducky. Tell me-"
"If we find anything else," Ducky finished. Abby and McGee rushed out as rapidly as they had entered.
"Shalom, Hadar," Ilan bid his old friend good-bye as he stepped into the backseat of his car.
"Shalom, Ilan. Be safe. I will see you this evening," Hadar replied, waving quickly and then turning to his driver. He sped away with the blink of a left turn signal and all the urgency of a fugitive. Ilan smirked at this, as Hadar himself was no fugitive, only the friend of one. Nothing to worry about.
Now back to the hotel.
The first thing Tony remembered was shoving himself in front of her.
Ziva - oh god - Ziva!
His thoughts raced and he struggled to wake up, trying to believe he was in some sort of nightmare.
No, no, not Ziva!
He heard a soft shushing sound and felt a clammy hand sweep over his hairline.
"I'm here, Tony. I'm here. It's okay, it's going to be all right, Tony."
His heartbeat slowed and his tongue found its way through his lips.
"Ziva," he managed to groan.
"Tony," she replied, and one of her hands moved to grab his. He pulled her closer, pressing the back of her hand to his lips.
"Ziva, I…" he began, but she again shushed him. He felt the slightest gust of air, as though she had swirled away from him. Her hand released his and his heart sped up. He begrudgingly forced his eyelids open to behold a pair of masculine arms wrapping affectionately around Ziva's back. He felt sick to his stomach, even as he watched Ziva pull away from the man. Then he was greeted by a familiar voice which dissolved his doubts.
"How're you feeling, Junior?"
"What did they say?" Abby exclaimed.
"Tony's awake," McGee answered.
"And Ziva?"
"Ziva's fine, just like she was two hours ago, when we last heard from them."
"What do they mean by fine, Tim? I mean-"
"Ziva is doing well. She can sit up on her own and all. She's at Tony's side now," Jimmy interrupted, and McGee and Abby swung to face him.
"Breena's been calling the hospital every fifteen minutes," he said in explanation. Abby gulped.
"Abby, they're okay," McGee reassured her. She looked at him sceptically, then leaned into him.
"I know…I'm worried, too," he admitted. Abby gave him a peck on the cheek then opened her arm to include Jimmy in the hug.
Leon gripped his daughter's hand, glancing to his side to check that Lara was there. Sure enough, she walked only a couple steps behind, his son at her side. The grass squished beneath them from the recent rain.
They reached the site of Jackie's grave within ten minutes, and Leon knelt to the ground, tears streaking his cheeks.
"We've almost got him, Jackie. We're so close, baby," he moaned, unable to form clear syllables. The voices of the others followed his: Lara introducing herself, Kayla boasting about her science project, and Jared about his friends.
Out of the corner of his eye, Leon spotted a man in a black suit who seemed to be watching them. He gently grabbed Lara's wrist and whispered to her. When Leon looked back the man had turned away and seemed to be holding a hand to his cheek. Leon whipped his phone out of his pocket.
"Special Agent McGee's desk," said Abby.
"Abby," Leon said quietly. "I'm at the cemetery. There's someone near me making a phone call, can you see who it is?"
"Of course, Director. Just a minute."
Leon tapped his foot impatiently, listening to the clacking of keys on the other end of the line.
"Sorry, it's a blocked number…"
"Well, unblock it-"
"Uh-oh," McGee's voice fell heavily.
"What?" Leon demanded.
"The phone is registered to Mossad," Abby said after a moment, and Leon promptly hung up. He laid a gentle hand upon Lara's upper back.
"Get back to the car, now."
She looked at him with confusion and concern, but silently convinced Kayla and Jared to follow her calmly. Leon recklessly rushed over to the stand of trees the man had been standing by, only to find that he had disappeared. Leon cursed under his breath and speed-dialed McGee.
"Special Ag-" Abby began again, but Leon interjected.
"Get Mossad in MTAC, and keep tracking this bastard."
Gibbs pressed violently on the phone's power button, shutting it off, and took a deep breath. How far was Bodnar really going to go?
He spent the next hour cleaning his weapons, thinking of Ziva and Tony, Abby and Tim, Kelly and Shannon, Jenny and Mike, Eli and Jackie, Leon and Tobias.
He positioned his rifle then set it back down.
He took a swift swig of whiskey.
Ilan paged mindlessly through an old volume of The Picture of Dorian Gray, passing time until his phone buzzed. When it finally did, he smirked as he answered the call.
He carelessly shoved the book into his suitcase and walked out of the hotel room. He winked at all but one of the women he saw as he passed through the lobby, before sliding into the backseat of a regal automobile.
"Shalom, Hadar."
"Shalom, Ilan."
"I didn't know you could sing, sweetheart. You have a beautiful voice," said Senior. Tony tried to roll his eyes, but his headache interfered.
"I only know those songs. My sister loved the opera."
"I also didn't know you had a sister."
Ziva nodded solemnly.
"Sore spot?"
"Very," Tony said protectively. Ziva patted his hand. Senior glanced at his watch, feigning surprise at the passage of time from the late morning in which he had arrived.
"Well, I promised a friend of mine I'd meet him for dinner, so I'll just leave you kids to your own devices," he winked.
"Dad," Tony groaned, but Ziva cracked a smile.
"See you tomorrow, Junior, Ziva," Senior said, placing his hand upon the door and blowing a kiss to Ziva. He exited brightly. Tony chuckled.
"You do have a beautiful voice, though. He's right about that. Actually, he's right about you a lot."
"Particularly through your eyes?"
"Huh?" Tony pretended to not know what Ziva was asking, nervousness welling up in him again. A few moments of silence passed and Tony's breath became sharper. Ziva drew an impressively deep inhale.
"I love you, Tony."
Hadar's driver stepped around the car, pulling Ilan's suitcase from the backseat.
"Toda," Ilan hummed, pulling his phone out again and checking for messages. Only one. He pressed the speed-dial button.
"Anything interesting with the Vances?"
"A visit to the cemetery, nothing much. I think he noticed me, but-"
"You were not to be seen!" Ilan shouted.
"He does not know it is me, Ilan!"
"Keep it that way!"
Ilan sighed and shrugged off the curious expressions of his companions. He motioned for Hadar to lead the way, and together they walked towards Hadar's private plane, which the man had courteously agreed to allow Ilan to use for his own travel. It was a generous, risky offer, and one which Hadar proved unable to follow through on.
Ilan Bodnar dropped dead before he reached the steps of the plane.
"Go."
The order escaped his lips, laced both with venom and pleasure, and he lowered his rifle.
"I got him, Ziver," he whispered.
"Rewind, rewind! Did you just-"
"I love you, Tony," Ziva repeated, exasperation wearing on her.
"I- Ziva, I love you, too," he croaked, grasping her hand even more tightly, wearily trying to pull her closer. She slowly kissed his forehead, his hot breath bringing small beads of sweat to her neck as he tilted his head back. She readjusted their hands so that their fingers were entwined, and brought her lips down to his.
Hand in hand, Tony and Ziva stepped out of the elevator and reluctantly walked towards autopsy. Tony stopped right before the door opened.
"Are you sure about this, sweet cheeks?"
"Yes! And don't call me that at work, Tony!" Ziva reprimanded teasingly, walking straight toward Ducky's open arms. The three moved to the freezers and Ducky opened one at hip-level. He unzipped the top half of the body bag.
Ziva stroked Ilan's hair for a short moment, tears swelling behind her eyes.
"How could you? You were family! He trusted you, Ilan!"
She gritted her teeth, and Tony reached back to her hand. She fell into him and let out a great flow of tears, perfectly safe in Tony's loving, comforting arms.
She stood herself up to her full height and wiped her cheeks.
"Upstairs?"
She nodded, and with two grateful expressions to Ducky, they headed back into the elevator. They shared a quick kiss before reaching their floor, and then darted out. Ziva and Abby rushed to happily embrace each other and, as he had when the team had returned from Operation Rescue Ziva, Leon gave the cue for the entire floor to clap in celebration.
As they finally sat back down to their desks, Tony pulled a photograph from his jacket and tacked it onto his board, tacking a slip of paper immediately beneath it. McGee, Abby, and Ziva curiously squinted at the picture. Ziva was the first to smile, realising that the photograph was somewhat blurry security footage from the bar in Berlin. Her hand resting upon his shoulder, the photograph capturing perfectly the initial moment in which they were focused on each other rather than their task, their eyes trained seductively on those of their respective partners, and a playful note entirely in lowercase but carefully written letters.
we'll always have Berlin, sweet cheeks.
Author's Note: Bodnar is reading The Picture of Dorian Gray; Dorian Gray, simply put, sold his soul for his youthful appearance.