A/N: And here's another ficlet from the NFA Help Haiti auction. The request was for Tim and Ziva with the prompt "I mean it." It's set shortly after Truth or Consequences, and is a friendship piece.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS (although I could wish I did). I'm not making any money off it (although I really wish I was). We don't always get what we want. :)

Who Cares Enough
by Enthusiastic Fish

"Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down."

Ziva wasn't sure why Tim's question had taken her by surprise. It wasn't as if their conversation had been particularly deep or meaningful. It had been awkward and while Tim had shown himself willing to go deeper, she had not. Everything had been kept on the surface, away from the still-healing wounds she wished to discuss with nobody, least of all innocent young Tim McGee.

At that thought, she almost laughed at herself. Tim was older than she was in years. ...and how innocent was he? He had been in Somalia, and while his part had been mostly forgotten or at least pushed to the background (as he had been), she had not forgotten the realization that he was there, on the ground, risking his life for her. What had he suffered? He had slept almost the entire way back, not even trying to speak to them. Her conversation with him had been so short on the Yard. Why? Tim was her friend and had always been. ...and yet, when they had spoken, the only meaningful thing he had asked her was why she was avoiding Tony. He had not really even acknowledged her thanks, instead pointing out that she had not really come to talk to him. ...and she remembered now that moment of hope when he had asked her if she had come just to say thanks to him. ...and the way he had looked away when she had acknowledged her real motive in coming. It was a brief moment of disappointment.

As she walked out of NCIS, alone, that evening, she saw Tim sitting on the same small bench she had occupied just a week or so ago. Part of her wanted to continue to ignore the awkwardness but most of her couldn't stand the idea of ignoring Tim's own reluctance as well as her own. With a deep breath, she walked across Sicard and into the park.

"McGee?"

He jumped, much as she had.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

He smiled. "Taking a break. It's a nice bench you chose before."

"Would you mind sharing it?"

"Not at all. Have a seat."

She sat and the awkwardness was more pronounced than ever. Tim was resting his elbows on his knees and staring forward, making no attempt at conversation.

"McGee..."

"Yeah?" He turned his head to look at her.

"Why did you ask me about Tony?"

"What do you mean?"

"When we spoke here...before. You said nothing about yourself, only about how I was avoiding Tony. When we spoke all together before, you left...so that we could talk. Why?"

He looked away again. "It needed to be done."

"Why?"

Tim sighed. "We can't work together if you two have to tiptoe around. I'm usually the third wheel, and if that's what needs to happen for us to work together...better that than the team breaking up. ...again."

"Why would you think you had to be gone for Tony and me to talk to each other?"

"...because I needed to be gone. There's too much baggage between you two, too much I can't...can't even begin to touch. I'm only in the way. I'll stay out of the way until you work it out."

He still wasn't looking at her.

"McGee...I..."

"Going to get you in Somalia. I only dreamed of doing it. Tony made it happen. When we were there...he was in charge. I just...just...laid around. When we got back...he was the one you needed to talk to. You knew it...but you talked to me...just to put it off. You two are the superheroes. I'm the sidekick. Gibbs is the..." He laughed softly. "...the all-powerful Oz. It's the way things are."

"What if I do not think so?"

"What don't you agree with?"

"Most of it, actually." Ziva leaned forward, trying to catch his eye. "McGee...what did they do to you in Somalia?"

"Not much. They just smacked me around a little. They were making a point."

"Using you?"

"Yeah. I don't actually remember them bringing me into the cell where Tony was."

Ziva reached out tentatively.

"Why did you not ever say anything?"

"What should I have said?" he asked sarcastically. "Hey, guys, ooh and aah over my war wounds!"

Her hand dropped back to her lap. "No. That is not what I meant."

Tim sat up and looked at her. "Ziva, I'm really glad you're back. I'm glad you're safe. I'm glad you're alive. I'd go through a lot more for that. Now that you're back...I want you to stay. If that means I have to be out of the way, then so be it."

"What if I do not want you 'out of the way'?" Ziva asked, trying to probe beyond the blase expression on Tim's face.

"Is that how you feel?"

"I did need to speak to Tony. It was good that you and Gibbs both pushed me to do so. There is, as you said, a lot of baggage. ...but I needed to speak to you as well. I just...I did not realize that I did."

"It's okay."

"No, McGee. It is not. I have treasured your friendship, your trust, your kindness...but I have never really allowed myself to express that. I do not wish to lose it because you think that...that your only place is outside of the group."

"That's usually where I belong."

"Not here. Not ever." Finally, Ziva found that she could reach out to touch him, the prospect of contact less frightening than it had been before.

Tim took her hand, holding it gently...but he looked slightly skeptical.

"I mean it. You are my friend, McGee. You are my closest friend. No matter what else happens, no matter what you will always be my friend."

Tim looked down at their hands and didn't speak. Carefully, Ziva moved closer, almost touching...not quite. After a moment, Tim released her hand and slipped his arm around her shoulders. They sat together and stared out at the river.

Ziva realized that she felt totally safe.

"I mean it, McGee."

"I understand, Ziva."

FINIS!