A/N: Hello there. This is just a one shot I've had on my mind for a while, based on my own observations of Season 6 episode "Agent Afloat". No real spoilers, so fear not.
Let me know what you think. All reviews (good or bad) are welcome.
Disclaimer: I definitely don't own NCIS. At all. No really, I'm telling the truth.
"Damn it!" Shouted Tony. He lifted his now bleeding finger to his mouth. He'd been trying pry open the locked door with a shard of metal.
"Come and sit down Tony." Said Ziva tiredly. Tony dropped the shard and went to sit by Ziva, still sucking on his finger.
Tony and Ziva had been sent to apprehend a suspect. They now suspected that he actually was responsible for the rape and murder he was accused of. The body of the female petty officer was discovered in the basement of Norfolk research lab. The case was fairly open and shut: their perp had left the murder weapon at the scene-a knife- his bloody fingerprints around the handle. Abby had run the prints through AFIS and the name of three time sex offender Henry Phillips- a janitor in the building- had popped up. The man hadn't shown up to work and wasn't answering his home phone. So team Gibbs split up: McGee and Gibbs to the house and Tony and Ziva to Norfolk.
It turned out that Tony and Ziva struck gold. The only problem was, once their guy spotted them, he took off like a rabbit. Being the fearless NCIS agents they were, Tony and Ziva gave chase, following him into an old, subterranean bunker used for housing weapons. They'd chased him into the darkness of the bunker. However, much to their disadvantage their rapist turned murderer was ready; once Tony
and Ziva were far in, he let loose a hail of bullets from what Ziva recognized as a medium sized Uzi.
Doing the natural thing, Tony and Ziva ducked for cover, shooting their service weapons as they went. They moved to an open store room on their right, however, not before Ziva took a bullet to the thigh. She went down with a grunt, still firing her weapon, crawling to the door. Tony, realizing what was happening, grabbed her by her wind breaker and dragged her through the door. Once they were, in he returned to the door, but had to duck back in as a fresh peal if bullets rained out, this time from a military issue M - 16. Tony pulled the door in, leaving it slightly ajar. His intention was to listen for a break in the gunfire and then return fire. He never got the chance. Taking advantage of the darkness in the bunker, their perp had run up and with speed Tony had previously doubted possible, closed the door and locked it from the outside.
Swearing at their luck, Tony turn his attention back to Ziva. She'd propped herself against a wall, her hands over the wound on her leg. Her breathing was slightly labored, and while she would never admit to it, the pain she was in shone through her eyes.
Tony rushed to her dropping to his knees and pulling off his wind breaker.
"You okay?" He asked, knowing the question was stupid but needing to ask it anyway.
"I don't think it hit anything important." Was her response
Tony rolled his eyes in response unbuckling his belt.
"Um, Tony? What are you doing"? She asked, momentarily distracted. Tony just tugged on the buckle exposing his belt knife.
"Ah i see. You could have asked for mine." She said as he began to cut the cloth away from the wound. Ziva gritted her teeth but kept silent.
"'What and endure your never ending quips about my lack of preparedness? No ma'am, I don't think so. Besides, this knife has saved my butt more times than I can count. It's good luck." he smirked at her glare and returned his attention to her leg.
"It looks like the bullet went through and through. Let's get this patched up." Tony wadded some of his ripped jacket and placed it to the entry and exit wounds. With longer strips, tied the wads in place. Ziva let out a groan of pain, her hands forming fists the knuckles white.
"Sorry," said Tony, truly empathizing for his partner. He finished wrapping and stood to his feet, pulling out his cell phone. To his dismay, there were no bars. Looking around the room anxiously, he noticed there was no window. He walked around trying to find a signal, but was disappointed. He swore under his breath and cast a glance at Ziva, who was leaning against the wall, eying her partner. Tony sighed and went to sit next to her.
"No signal," he reported grumpily.
"Figures," muttered Ziva. Tony took off his ball cap, and scratched his head, looking at the door.
"I'm gonna try to get that sucker open," he started to stand up when Ziva grabbed his wrist, preventing him from standing.
"Not yet. You do not know if our bad guy is waiting at the door to finish us off. I suggest we lay short." she said.
"Lay low,Ziva, not short." he responded, but indeed settling on the floor. They stayed that was for almost an hour when Tony tried to open the door. After about a three minute examination, he set to work trying to find something to pry it open. Hence the metal shard and hence the cut finger.
Feeling slightly defeated, Tony sat next to Ziva dejectedly. She was paler than before and her breathing was slightly hitched, but she tried to ignore it, addressing Tony instead.
"Let me see your finger." Tony held out his hand. Ziva took examining his wound with expert eyes. Considering the she was the one who was shot, Tony felt somewhat embarrassed.
"It's no big deal Zee," he protested mildly.
"And what if I wish to hold your hand DiNozzo?" she replied pretending to be offended. Tony grinned at the teasing in her voice.
"Well you could have just asked Ziva." he said.
"What, and give you an ego jump?" she responded, still teasing. Despite their banter, Ziva was in fact focusing on the cut on Tony's finger. She pulled out a Band Aid from her wind breaker and carefully applied it to Tony's finger.
"For the record, it's an ego boost not a jump. And not that I'm complaining, but why do you have Band Aids in your pocket?" he asked, genuinely curious. Ziva eyed him contemplatively before speaking.
"It is nothing truly significant. I was opening a package and I slipped. I cut my finger. That day, we got a case. I put my extra Band Aids in my jacket in case I needed them." Tony had his jokers face on, a huge grin plastered on his face.
"I can't believe it. The great Ziva "Knives- don't- run- out- bullets" David accidentally cut herself." Tony chuckled to him self. Ziva rolled her eyes.
"I assure you Tony, that was not the first time, nor shall it be the last." she replied wearily, Leaning her back against the wall. She involuntarily shivered.
"You cold?" asked Tony.
"A little," admitted Ziva. It was December and their little subterranean storage room was cold. Not to mention that the blood loss probably contributed to her shivers.
"Scoot forward," he said. Rather than argue, Ziva moved forward careful not to jostle her aching leg. Tony moved to sit behind her, her back leaning into his chest. She was surprised and oddly comforted by how comfortable she felt with his arms wrapped around her.
"Just for body heat you know?" he said, half teasing voice, his breath brushing her ear. Ziva shivered again, this time from Tony's proximity and his breath on her neck. Rather than question, he just held her tighter.
Tony held her in silence for a while before speaking.
"When I was a kid, when I used to hang out with my wonderfully English cousins, we used to play a game. We called it Lock Box. Basically, we had to play in a small room or a closet and the idea was that we would take turns asking each other questions. There were two rules: Answer honestly and the answers stay in that room no matter what, hence Lock Box. Do you want to play?" he asked arching an eyebrow.
Ziva thought the proposition over. It was enticing, to see DiNozzo barring a small portion of his soul.
However, the idea of what he could potentially ask was slightly overwhelming. Ziva had many unpleasant things in her life any of which Tony would be free to ask of. Still, the closeness of the room and the innocence of his suggestion spurred her on.
"Stays in this room yes?" she asked again. She felt Tony nod his head. "Alright. then I go first." she said smugly. Her tone of voice was a front though; she knew what she wanted to ask, but was unsure if she was venturing into dangerous waters. Scratch that, she knew she was venturing into dangerous waters, she didn't know if he'd let her.
"Alright. Ask away." he said confidently.
"Why...why did you never go back to Jeanne?" she asked her voice quiet. Tony's arms stiffened at the name, but relaxed again.
"Well, it's simple really. Funny how I can say that now; it felt a lot harder then. You see, she wanted me to choose, between her and NCIS. Between Tony DiNardo and Anthony DiNozzo. When I sat there, in that couple's home, next to that fire, I looked between you guys and Jeanne's letter. You remember the case. I was sopping wet, and McGee made the fire pop on. Well, sitting there watching you all laugh and smile, and allowing me to be included in all that, I decided that I couldn't leave. I couldn't leave you. McGee, Gibbs, Ducky. Abby would have killed me if I tried. You guys are my family. Jeanne was in love with a man I could never be. A man I never was. I loved the idea of loving her, of having that picture perfect life. But, I decided I'd rather have my not so perfect life and share it with my team than be with Jeanne, knowing I'd left a good thing. Besides, Jeanne and I would have never worked out. She wanted a professor. I see myself more as a gun slinging cowboy." he finished. Ziva chuckled, glad to see he was still amicable and able to joke. His answer made her smile.
"I see you more as the television remote slinging couch tomato." she replied jokingly.
"Har Har. It's potato by the way." replied sarcastically. "Alright, my turn. So, you remember back a couple a months ago, end of the summer, when you and Gibbs came onto the Seahawk?" Ziva nodded. "You seemed...I dunno, unduly frazzled. I'd never seen you jump or wince so much as you did at the sound of the jets landing. I've been meaning to ask you about that." Ziva let out a slow breath. Her mind was suddenly filled with loud memories of bullets flying, people shouting, bombs exploding and most notably, the jet streaming above. She forced herself to relax, knowing that there was no other way she would be able to get the whole story out.
"Of course you would ask a hard question Tony." she admonished lightly. Tony just shrugged.
"You started it," he replied simply.
"I did. Well, if you must know, the sound of jets flying terrifies me. It does not bother me when they are far away, but when they are so close." she shuddered in her pause, her memories still raging in her head. Tony dropped his chin the her shoulder, a simple sign of support.
"It was my second battle in the IDF. I was twenty one years old. My first battle was barely a skirmish. This was much more serious. There was a disturbance around Jerusalem. A group of Palestinian renegades were causing trouble. Small fights were erupting inside and out side of the city. The conflict just continued to grow. We received intelligence that this Palestinian renegade group would send reinforcements into the city. To protect the peace, my unit, about fifty of us, were sent to stop them. That alone should have been enough. But it was not. We caught the intruding group of about thirty before the reached the city. The fighting was brutal. They pushed us back towards the city. That was when the city group came and attacked us from behind. We were sandwiched between two hostile groups. It was bad, Tony. I lost some very good friends that day. Anyway, someone must have radioed in that we were in trouble. They sent a jet as reinforcement. The jet flew low to the ground. By then, the sound was deafening. Then it dropped a bomb. I learned later that so many of us were downed that the powers that be decided it was more practical to use a bomb to stop the conflict. I was caught on the outer fringes of the blast. I don't remember much of the actual bomb, but when I came to, I was in a devastated building on the outskirts of the city where we'd been fighting. Long story short, I made it back to headquarters. Ever since, though, the sound of a low flying jet makes me nervous. I expect a bomb to drop out of it." she finished. Tony was rubbing small circles into her shoulder with his thumb.
"How bad were you hurt?" he asked after a while.
"I had plenty of scrapes and bruises. I had taken a stab to the arm in the fighting. I got a broken wrist from the bomb." she responded.
"Wow." said Tony, his voice soft. "You're a tough chick David. You went into Mossad after all that?"
"Of course. Loyalty to Israel precedes all else. What is the old saying? Give me freedom or give me death." she said.
"Give me liberty or give me death. Same difference though. Good ole Patrick Henry." They sat like that a little while longer. After a while though, Ziva leaned forward feeling dizzy. Tony laid a hand on her cheek. It was quite warm.
"You're starting to burn up Zee," he said, worrying about her wound and the possibility of infection.
"We need to get out of here." she said studying the door. She'd had enough gunshot wounds to know that if they didn't get out soon, she'd only get worse.
"That's true, but we can't get the door open." he said feeling stupid for stating the obvious, without any reasonable solution.
"Help me up, I have an idea." Tony stood from behind her and came in front, looking unsure. Ziva merely extended her hands to him. He pulled her up, catching her as her leg refused to support any weight. She swore in Hebrew, wrapping her arm around Tony's neck. Tony held her by the waist and helped her get to the door. She tapped the metal plate where the lock would have been, listening for the different sounds. She seemed to find what she was looking for and straightened up.
"There is good news and bad news. Good news is that I can possibly blow the lock open from this side. Bad news is that if I am off in my shot at all, I can make the door unopenable." Tony sighed, frustrated.
"Life can't be easy, huh? Well, we gotta try it. We need to get you out of here." Ziva drew her gun, tapping the door again. After another moment, she placed her gun to the plate. Her teeth gritted in anticipation, she squeezed the trigger.
The recoil was startling at that proximity and the sound deafening after their previous silence.
But the door swung open.
Tony grinned like a fool. Holding Ziva firmly with one hand and his gun with the other, they slowly exited the room. It was darker than before, the sun having gone down. No sign of their perp.
"Let's go," said Tony. They exited the bunker into the cold night air. Ziva found the fresh air a welcome relief from the confines of their storage room. They were barely outside more than a minute when a headlights appeared around a corner, hurtling in their direction. Instinctively, Tony and Ziva drew weapons, retreating slightly, at least until the car came to a stop and Gibbs emerged.
"Boss! It's good to see you." said Tony, flashing a famous grin.
"Good my ass, DiNozzo. We've been looking for you two for hours. What happened?" answered their gruff leader. He was glad to see them, but the worry was evident on his face as he approached them. The sight of Tony supporting Ziva did not exactly bode well.
"I'd love to fill you in, Boss, but Ziva needs an ambulance first." replied Tony more seriously. Ziva, looked up, giving her best attempt at a glare, which really wasn't all that good. Gibbs yelled at McGee to call 911.
"We do not need...an ambulance. Can we not drive to the hospital without any fanfare?" she asked weakly. Suddenly, the world spun and she slumped in Tony's arms.
"Whoa, easy there." said Tony. He and Gibbs helped lower her to the ground. Ziva shook her head, trying to make the the world stable again.
"She took a bullet to the leg. It went through and through." explained Tony.
"I'm fine," stated Ziva, perhaps too loudly.
"Sure you are Ziver," said Gibbs patting her shoulder and walking to speak with McGee. Tony sat next to her propping her up.
"I do not want an ambulance." she muttered, defiant despite her weakened state.
"It's not about what you want,Zee. It's about McGee, you see. If we took you in the car, blood would be bound to get on the seats. And, being the resident Probie, McGee would be obligated to clean it up. Now, I know we pick on him, super glue his face to his desk, you know, fun, harmless stuff. But, come on, do you really want the poor kid to be stuck cleaning up your blood?" Ziva rolled her eyes at her partner, but offered a small smile nonetheless.
"Fine then. For McGee's health, I will ride the ambulance." she conceded. Tony just grinned.