Okay, I moved into my new place and finally have an internet connection again. Yay! Anyway, here is the second chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I hope Ziva doesn't seem too out of character, but she can't be tough all the time (at least that's what I think). There's a little more Tony in this chapter.


The doors slid shut after Gibbs' exit. Ziva barely managed to pull the Emergency Stop before collapsing. On top of the blood loss from being shot, Ziva hadn't slept or eaten anything in almost 48 hours. The last few minutes with Gibbs were pushing her over the edge. The Mossad Officer's legs buckled beneath her and her breath came in rapid, shallow breaths. She had never hyperventilated before in her life, but all of her hard-earned control was escaping her now. She clutched frantically at her chest, as if that might somehow save her. Her vision gradually blackened from the edges in. Finally, her body succumbed to her distress, as her entire body went slack and she landed in an ungraceful heap in the center of the elevator floor.

Tony look up from his desk to see Gibbs exit the elevator and the doors close with no Ziva. The shouting had been hard to ignore, even though he had been unable to decipher the words exchanged. DiNozzo noticed the blood on Gibbs' cheek and shot a quick cursory look to Tim McGee, who returned his bewildered expression.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs had never had so much trouble controlling his emotions. His whole being was in turmoil. He wanted nothing more than to run back to Ziva, comfort her, and tell her he didn't mean any of what was said. Instead, he schooled his features to a callous air and casually walked over to DiNozzo's desk. He set a small elevator override key in front of the young man, effectively passing the torch of looking out for Ziva to Tony.

"Boss?" Tony questioned, before he looked at what lay in front of him and realization dawned on him. Gibbs walked over to his own desk without a word, trusting that Tony had got the message.


With hesitation, Tony inserted the fireman's override key into the slot beneath the elevator call button. He was ill-prepared for the sight that met him. Ziva lay crumpled, unconscious on the floor of the elevator.

"Goddamn it, Gibbs," the agent whispered under his breath. At least Ziva looked more peaceful than she had in the previous hours. Her face no longer held the pain and self-loathing that Tony had observed throughout the day.

He could put two and two together: the muffled shouting and Gibbs' rapidly swelling face. Tony hoped that whatever had really gone on did the trick to pull Ziva out of her depression and self-reproach.

He hit speed-dial 5 for Ducky, as he restarted the elevator. At the very least, Gibbs seemed to have pissed-off Ziva enough for her to sock him in the face. He'd been on the receiving end of one of her punches before and figured the only reason Gibbs was not laid out, unconscious and drooling was that Ziva wasn't even close to being at her full strength. As the elevator began its descent to Ducky's morgue, Tony rolled Ziva into a more comfortable position and moved an errant lock of hair out of Ziva's beautiful face. He hated seeing her so vulnerable and he wished he could take her pain away. Tony passed a soft hand over her forehead and chuckled a little. One thing Leroy Jethro Gibbs was especially good at, Tony mused, was seriously pissing off the women in his life.


"…alright, Ducky, all I'm saying is, it looks bad is all." Tony's soft voice reached Ziva's ears. She feigned continued sleep; not a hard task with the way her body felt, which was sluggish and unresponsive.

Doctor Donald Mallard's British accent was unmistakable. "Well, they certainly can't hold Ziva responsible, she was drugged."

"Huh, well, they're certainly going to try their damnedest. SecNav's bringing in Assistant Director Patrick Mulroney to do the investigation. Rumor has it that he's after Jenny's job. Ziva's a foreign operative brought into NCIS specifically by Director Shepard. Connect the dots, Ducky. The truth won't really matter to him."

Ziva's eavesdropping ended abruptly when a soft moan escaped her lips. Whatever Doctor Mallard had given her was wearing off; the fog that had settled over her brain was dissipating and her whole body began aching again. She opened her eyes slowly to find herself on a pull-out cot in Ducky's office, two sets of concerned eyes watching her intently.

"Ah, Ziva, my dear, you're awake. I was afraid I'd given you too much pain medication. Natural sleep is always better you know. That reminds me of a time in medical school when I gave too much sedative to a young pig named Billy. The poor thing was out for two days." The look on Ziva's face told the good doctor that she didn't much care about Billy the Pig or how he came to be sedated. "Anthony, why don't you give us some privacy, so I may assist Ziva in changing into a clean set of clothing."

Ziva started to sit up, but gave out a soft cry at an unexpected pain. She looked down at her right hand, which had swollen slightly. She gave it a quizzical look before remembering and her expression darkened. All of the pain and anger came flooding back and damn, Gibbs had a hard head.

"Ducky, I've been dressing myself for well over twenty-five years now; I think I can handle it myself," she said rudely. Tony quietly exited the office, not wanting to fight with Ziva.

Thankfully, the kindly doctor seemed to have patience and calm in ample supply. "Ziva, I must insist. Besides, I need to re-bandage that leg of yours, since you've somehow managed to tear half your stitches." Ducky's reproving glare sealed Ziva's fate. With a sigh, she relented to the care of the old medical examiner. "Good now that that's settled. Swallow these," he handed her two small tablets. "It'll help with the pain."

Twenty minutes later, Ducky was helping Ziva pull one of Abby's "DeathHead" t-shirts on, when a commotion outside broke the silence.

Tony's raised voice was easily heard from the other side of the door. "Hey, you can't go in there." Moments later, the door burst open and three grim-faced men entered. Ziva quickly slid her right arm into the t-shirt and pulled it on the rest of the way.

"Ms. David," one of the men pronounced her name wrong. "You're to come with us." Another of the men grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. Ziva paled slightly, as the sudden change to her elevation caused her to sway. She resisted the urge to try to knock the man on his ass.

"Under whose authority?" Ducky demanded.

"Assistant Director Patrick Mulroney and the Patriot Act."


Please leave a review! More to come soon.