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jae
February turns out to be as miserable as the weather for Team Gibbs.
If you'd had asked her what the worst time of year was for her team and adopted family, she'd answer summer with no hesitation. It was always summer. Almost a decade of summers filled with death, break-ups, shake-ups, vengeance, and attacks hitting too close to home could attest to this fact.
But as Abby Sciuto sat waiting in her hearse, with the heat on full blast and skull hat, mittens, and scarf bound tight, she was beginning to reconsider thanks to their recent string of misfortune . Call it luck, call it karma; Abby believed in it. But she couldn't rationalize all the tribulation that seemed to be plaguing her team as of late. The past few weeks had been hard on everybody. For one, McGee had taken a beating from a prior suspect charged for narcotics, and had been drugged out when he'd gone to town on McGee without much warning. Fortunately, he'd walked away with only some bruising and a dislocated collarbone, and while physical therapy would be part of his routine for some time, he considered himself lucky.
The week that followed found them facing the unavoidable winter virus epidemic. Tony always succumbed first every year, due to his scarred lungs and past battle with the plague. Only several days had passed when the Senior Agent had come in sick one morning, and sure enough, Tony's virus had traveled to the rest of the team. Gibbs and herself had both fallen ill, and though they'd recovered now, Ziva's immune system had finally surrendered, and she had been out sick the past two days in a row. And if that weren't enough, to top it all off, Tony's virus had developed into pneumonia.
Said Special Agent was the reason she was parked out front of Georgetown Hospital on that cold, gray, Wednesday morning. He'd been admitted the day before when he'd shown up to work looking as though he'd already coughed up one lung, and Gibbs himself had taken him straight to the hospital and given him orders to do as he was told. Consequently, he was forced to stay overnight, and because the team was already down the other half of the dynamic duo, and McGee was in a sling, Gibbs had recruited Abby to retrieve DiNozzo.
Snow had started to fall lightly from the overcast sky, and it had hardly accumulated into a dusting when she spotted Tony making his way across the parking lot, arms wrapped around his torso in an effort to fend off the biting winter air. She frowned when she saw he had on nothing more than his suit jacket, and a reprimand was already falling from her lips as he reached for the door handle.
"Where. Is. Your. Coat?"
Tony slides into the passenger seat, already coughing, even while pulling his door closed and buckling his seatbelt. Her face softens as concern overrides irritation, and she hands him a warm to-go cup. He takes it, eying it suspiciously.
"It's just tea," she sighs, while rolling her eyes, "The Nun's special remedy; Top secret."
They stare each other down for several seconds until Tony, prompted by another wave of coughing threatening to rack his body, concedes, and brings the cup to his mouth to sip it delicately. He hums in approval while his eyes slide shut, and Abby smiles in victory. Bringing the cup down to his lap, he settles back in the seat, finally able to address Abby without the threat of a coughing attack.
"I don't know where my good jacket is, it's been missing for a month now," Tony's voice is a rasp and all but non-existent. He finally turns his head in her direction, opening his red and tired eyes. "I must have left it in the charger or something one day." He frowns, pondering the place of his missing jacket, shrugs, and reaches out to crank the radio on.
"Not that i'm ungrateful for the lift," Tony half-whispers as he searches stations, " but why are you on pick-up duty?". He winces when the car jolts as Abby reverses from the curb, and she shifts gears before pulling away and driving towards the hospital's exit.
"Well, El Jefe is already down you and Ziva," she answers, slowing to a stop and hitting her blinker to turn out of the parking lot, "And he technically doesn't have Timmy, with his sling and everything-"
"What do you mean he's down me and Ziva?" Tony interrupts quickly, and that spurs another round of hacking to which Abby's eyes light up in alarm. She reaches over and nudges his tea toward his face with one hand still on the steering wheel.
"Easy, Tony," she chastises, and Tony motions with his hand in a gesture, urging her to continue.
"Ziva's caught whatever all of us had," Abby says slowly, watching him carefully for his reaction. Cluing Tony in to any information regarding Ziva even when the slightest scratch was involved was at the bottom of her list of least favorite things to do. "I thought someone or she had told you, but I guess things have been pretty hectic with you the past two days." She winces internally as she watches Tony's expression slowly form the one he reserves especially for concern regarding Ziva. The light changes to green, and Abby merges forward, preparing to turn right.
"Left!" Tony's gravely voice barks, and she jolts in shock. "Go Left, please."
Abby turns sharply at his direction, bewildered, and he hacks away next to her from straining his voice in such a short period.
"Jeez, DiNozzo!" she exclaims, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "What the hell?"
"Sorry," Tony apologizes, running a hand over his tired face. "Want to go to Ziva's first."
Of course, Abby thinks, and tries to calm her irritation. That should have been expected, really.
"Okay," She sighs while mentally mapping out their new destination quickly in her head, and picks up her phone to shove into his lap. "But you might want to give her a heads up. I don't want to find out what happens when you disturb a sick and half conscious ex-Mossad assassin without warning."
Tony's eyebrows shoot upward in acknowledgment, and he palms her phone to send the ninja a text.
It's hard to tell who's feeling worse when Ziva David opens her apartment door. She barely offers them an attempted smile in greeting before Tony is through her door. Abby's left to shut the door while Ziva follows in Tony's wake. They're already in soft discussion as she sets her bag down on the table a few steps from the threshold. She looks up while discarding herself of scarf, mittens, and skull cap, and her face grows warm, suddenly feeling as though she's stepped in on them having an intimate conversation. Abby looks down quickly as Tony brushes a few of Ziva's sweaty curls away from her fevered face, and smirks when she hears Ziva's raspy I'm fine, Tony.
As they argue over all the reasons the other is not fine, Abby recalls her prior knowledge of the layout of Ziva's house from the handful of times she's visited and makes her way toward the kitchen, on a mission to find some tea and medicine for the duo. As expected, she finds Ziva's tea collection already out, in a basket sitting near the sink and coffee machine. She moves over toward the cabinets there to begin her search of some medicine, thinking internally it's unlikely for Ziva to keep anything remotely close to medical relief in her home. She rolls her eyes at her friends' tendency to bear unnecessary pain, and looks around the kitchen. Her eyes gloss over the contents of the room; there's several bills stacked neatly by a plant and her house phone, a notepad with an untidy, familiar scrawl written with a brief message and a number, coupons and a worn carry out menu from a deli she knows is near Tony's apartment, and as her eyes travel from that back to where the coffee machine rests, they narrow in suspicion at the coffee selections Ziva has lined up near the machine. A basic blend that looks untouched and that she knows Gibbs to be a fan of, a bag in a language she wouldn't be comfortable hazarding a guess at from first glance, and finally a near empty bag of the brand Tony favors - he keeps the same kind in the NCIS break room. Her eyes wander around the kitchen again, and Abby's internal hinky signal is sending out an alarm. But before she can investigate further, Ziva enters the room.
"What are you doing?" she asks, not unkindly.
Grabbing a few bags of tea from the basket, she turns around and holds them up.
"Tea," Abby answers brightly. "You guys need tea."
Ziva gives her a weak smile and wraps her arms around her torso tightly, fighting off a shiver.
"Tea is the cure for anything," she agrees, and moves past her to a cabinet, opening it to reveal where she stores her mugs. She grabs two, and it doesn't escape Abby's notice that one of the mugs Ziva pulls out is one she herself has sipped out of several times in Tony's own apartment. Abby says nothing, but wanders toward the waiting kettle on the stove.
"I can take care of this, Abby," she pauses and regards Ziva, who holds up the two mugs in confirmation. "I was just about to pour myself some tea, so the water is hot." Abby nods, handing her the packets of tea. Ziva takes them gratefully, and tilts her head toward the other direction. "Would you mind grabbing some extra blankets for Tony? There should be some fresh ones folded in the laundry room; I put him in my bedroom." Ziva's voice is nonchalant, but she avoids Abby's searching gaze and concentrates on making the tea. Abby gives her one final glance, then nods in confirmation.
"Aye, aye, captain." She salutes, and wanders out into the hall. The hinky feeling in her gut grows as she wanders through the expanse of Ziva's apartment. Because whether the two are simply so sick they aren't aware of it, or if they think nobody could notice it, evidence of Tony is glaringly obvious through out Ziva's home; The DVDs stacked by her television, the two coasters waiting on the coffee table, and several CDs sit out by an unostentatious CD player; a few titles catching her eye labeled Sinatra, Steely Dan, and Justin Vernon - artists she'd bet money on Ziva wasn't very familiar with.
Abby feels her face warm in discomfort as she sees more and more of this; This irrefutable evidence that the partner's have, for some time, been more than the professional co-workers and friends she sees each day. She feels as though she's stumbled onto a secret she should very much not know about, and she can't help the feeling of hurt the bubbles in her stomach from the fact that two of her friends, her family, are keeping something so huge, so life-changing, from them all. And now, she's tangled in their secret while they remain unaware.
She's rushing to the laundry room now, trying to avoid noticing anything more that would give confirmation to the conclusion she's drawing. The blankets lay in a stack upon the dryer, and she quickly enters to grab them and take them to Tony. Turning back out of the room is when Abby notices not just several coats hanging up, but Tony's coat. Now, hurt turns into anger; as sensitive as she is, she can't help feeling lied to. She frees a hand from under the blankets, and grabs his coat angrily, prepared to confront the two about the other. Because the fact that the two of them are together, and hiding it from the closest thing they have to family? Feels similar to deceit. And if there's one thing Abby hates, it's secrets.
Making her way towards the bedroom, she pauses when she doesn't hear any activity. Frowning in confusion, she peers into the bedroom, and just as quickly as the anger flared before, it cools when her eyes fall upon the scene before her.
The partners are both indeed there, and very much asleep. Two still-steaming mugs sit on Ziva's night table, and Tony is snoring lightly, buried under several blankets and Ziva herself. She's curled up into his side, as if she had only meant to rest for a moment, with a hand clutching several tissues resting on his chest. She's anchored to Tony's side by his hand that grips her hip with too much familiarity and quite too intimately. Abby stares at them for some time, feeling the fight leave her and the hurt dissipate. She pads over to the bed quietly, and carefully unfolds a blanket to cover Ziva, dropping the rest of the pile on the floor near the bed. Reaching over to turn the lamp on the night table off, she backs quietly out of the bedroom, shutting the door softly.
She makes her way down the hall and back to the door, and places Tony's coat she still clutches atop of the table, exchanging it for her discarded outerwear. She pulls on everything one by one, and sends a quick text to Gibbs to let him know DiNozzo is safe and sound and home. Because it's clear to Abby that home is with Ziva, here, in this little world they're trying to build and navigate for themselves. And Abby, though grudgingly, understands that all they need is a little time. She understands they need to be sure themselves before they can share with the team. And Abby's confident the two can, and will, figure out how.
So she turns out the hall light, and folds Tony's coat one last time, leaving it there for him to find whenever he wakes. Abby smiles to herself, happy now for the day that will come where it won't be a matter of if they'll figure it out, but when they are ready to share their secret.
For now, their secret is safe with her.