Thanks so much for the reviews! I tried to get this up as quick as possible, and there will be one more chapter that unfortunately, I might not be able to get up until Wednesday. I will try to get it up sooner though. Enjoy!
Ziva dropped the knife, and wiped her bloody hands on her top, already knowing that she looked like a slaughterhouse. She picked up Tony's windbreaker, and draped it over his shaking body, moving her arms around him to hold him tight. He remained, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, the other limp on his side.
Like she had earlier, Ziva began to run her fingers through Tony's hair, massaging his scalp gently. She could feel his fingers still curled tensely around the fabric of her sweater, knuckles pressing into her back. One hand still on his head, Ziva maneuvered the other under his windbreaker-blanket, and ran her hand along his bare back. She let her fingers dance lightly over each vertebra, working her way toward his neck and back down. His skin was soft, and she'd never admit it out loud, but she was enjoying the opportunity to touch him.
It took only minutes for her ministrations to quiet Tony's sobs and the steady quaking of his body. Twenty more, and the tension began to evaporate from his body, leaving him simply curled in her lap. Soon after that, he was reduced to putty. Wounded, beautiful, fragile putty that she could have spent all night working her fingers over. But then his voice startled her into drawing her hand back.
"Do you molest all your patients, or am I just special?" He didn't pick his head up, only turned it slightly, seemingly content to leave it pressed into her belly.
Ziva smiled, and stroked the hair by his brow. "Only the ones I know will enjoy it."
"Uh, do you two need a room?" McGee questioned, sounding distinctly uncomfortable.
"Relax, McGee. Tony is just trying to tell us that he feels a bit better, yes?"
"Yes. I'm in no shape to do anything, even if I wanted to. Your virgin eyes are safe," Tony answered.
McGee scoffed, and turned back to the fire he'd been tending. He'd seen the entire exchange, and realized with Tony in his current state, they were both getting away with more than they'd ever otherwise let each other. Uber-suggestive comments and groping, that's what his partners turned to during a crisis. He wondered how many Gibbs-slaps they would have generated had their boss been there with them. Of course, Tony probably would have watched his mouth better.
They seemed to fall into silence, McGee studying the fire, trying to determine how much wood they'd need for the night, and Tony still curled around Ziva with no discernable intention to move. The former Mossad Officer stared into the woods, though whether she was actually seeing anything, neither man would have been able to say. The truth was, she was listening, a sense that she found much more useful in a densely wooded area that was rapidly growing darker.
"I'm going for more wood," McGee suddenly announced.
"Do not go too far, McGee. It is getting dark quickly," Ziva warned him.
"Yeah, you don't want to fall and break anything, Probie."
McGee rolled his eyes, and walked off into the surrounding area. Ziva kept her ears alert, now attuned to McGee, noting every movement he made. The crunch of his feet on dead leaves and dry twigs, a grunt and crack as he broke a large branch, and a soft incoherent mumbling as he spoke to himself. Tony was very quiet, and she wondered if he'd fallen asleep, but his arms were still tight around her. A chill swept through her body, and Ziva realized the sun had taken all its warmth when it vanished.
She grabbed Tony's button-down and under shirt, checking that the blood had pretty much dried on the former. The latter was still a bit damp, and would be too painful to get on him anyway. She pulled his windbreaker off, smirking as he squealed at the cold.
"What are you doing! Haven't I suffered enough!"
"Sit up a minute, Tony."
He curled further into her. "No, I want to stay here and sleep."
"You can lay down again in a minute, we need to get your clothes back on." She nudged him.
"Now, that's something I don't hear very often." But, this time he maneuvered himself to a sitting position, wincing with the movements. Ziva carefully slipped his dress shirt back up over his arms, and buttoned it up. As she leaned toward him, Tony swallowed in an effort to lubricate his suddenly dry mouth. Never had he realized how intimate it felt to have a woman dressing him. Or, maybe it was just Ziva.
Her fingers were so careful as she adjusted the shirt, so warm as she smoothed the fabric down his chest. He was sure it had never taken him that long to button his shirt, but he wasn't about to stop her. He could feel his pulse rate increasing, and thanked god that he'd stopped bleeding. It would have been a little humiliating to die from massive blood loss due to nerves. Or arousal. Tony struggled to look anywhere but her eyes, as she eased him into his windbreaker, zipping him up like he was a kindergartener.
"Now you can go back to sleep." She dropped her hands, instantly missing the permission to touch him. She didn't know what was going on with her tonight, but she just kept wanting to put her hands on him. Maybe, it was the thought that the bullet could have hit something vital, that he could have died. Was she trying to reassure herself that he was okay? Or, trying to take the opportunity she'd almost missed?
Ziva shook her head. Either way, it wasn't appropriate tonight. Tonight, she was his partner, his protector, and his caregiver. She watched as he went to lie down on the ground beside her, and stopped him. "No, Tony. Come back to my lap."
He turned to her confused.
"We need to keep you warm, you will be too cold on the ground," she explained.
Still he looked skeptical. She sighed. "You can curl up in McGee's lap, if you prefer."
His eyes widened, and then he chuckled. "I did always figure McGoo for a snuggler." He spoke even as he settled himself back into her lap, in almost the same position he'd been in. "Never saw you as one though."
"You would be surprised, Tony."
He laughed again, blowing hot air at her belly, and Ziva felt her abdominal muscles tighten reflexively. "Don't I know it."
She smiled. "Sleep now, Tony. You need rest to heal." She felt him nod against her body, and swallowed the shudder he created.
A few moments later, McGee returned, arms laden with wood. He was panting, and flushed with the effort of dragging it back. Ziva raised an eyebrow at him. "It is a little fire, McGee. We are not trying to burn down the forest."
"Just trying to be prepared."
"Boy scout motto, yes?" She asked.
McGee smiled. "Yeah, actually. How'd you know that?"
"I think Tony teased you with it once."
He rolled his eyes. "Of course, he did...how's he doing?"
Ziva shrugged. "I think the whiskey is helping with the pain, but he is exhausted."
That made sense, with the getting shot, traumatic surgery, and whole frying the wound to keep it from bleeding events. The only thing that must have kept him awake as long as he was, was the adrenaline. Hell, they were both surprised he hadn't passed out from the pain. McGee nodded, and turned away, back to the fire, intent on setting it up for the night. He knew Gibbs would be huffing and puffing and assembling a search team, but he also knew they wouldn't start until first light. It would be too dangerous to go tromping through the woods in the dark. With a little luck and Ziva's, albeit questionable, surgical skills Tony should be alright until then. At least, that's what McGee was going to tell himself.
"Come here, McGee," Ziva called him after he finished with the fire.
"Everything okay?" He studied Tony worriedly.
"Yes. You should try to get some sleep, Gibbs won't come until morning." Ziva had come to the same conclusions.
"What about you?"
She shook her head. "I am not tired."
"I could stay up with you-"
"I will be fine, McGee. I have been in worse situations," she admitted.
McGee resisted the urge to shudder. God only knows what she'd seen and done with Mossad, and then Somalia...he wouldn't challenge that statement. Rather than continue arguing with her, McGee lowered himself to the ground.
"Scootch over, we will need to share body heat to stay warm tonight."
McGee looked up at her curiously. "Did you just say scootch?"
"Yes. It means move, yes?" Now Ziva looked puzzled.
"Yeah, you got it right, I was just surprised to hear it." Where the hell did she learn that word?
"Oh, Abby is teaching me some slang."
McGee made an 'o' with his mouth, and nodded. That made sense. He moved to be flush against Ziva's side, near Tony's head, and huddled against the ground and the warmth of Ziva's thigh. He fell asleep wondering what other words Abby was teaching her.
Ziva truly wasn't tired. In Mossad she'd gone 24 and 48 hour periods without sleep; it was a useful skill since most people couldn't go that long. Any longer though, and a person started to become a liability. Until morning would not be much of a challenge for her, it wasn't like sleeping was all that easy for her now anyway. Besides, she was intent on watching over the boys.
She listened for McGee's breathing to even out, already aware that Tony's had. He'd fallen asleep soon after laying down, understandably, and it seemed McGee slept as easily. Ziva was rather protective toward them, because they were her partners, because they were her family. Because she had learned at a fairly young age what she was capable of surviving, and she didn't want either of them to answer that question for themselves. Because, even after she'd walked away and essentially betrayed them, they still came after her would-be killers. Because they forgave her. And perhaps most simply, because she loved them both, albeit in different ways).
Ziva shut her eyes, and focused on the sounds of the forest. On the smells. These are the senses that would protect them in the dark. She enjoyed the peaceful calm of the forest, the smell of the trees-pine, spruce, maple, oak, and the sounds of the animals. The chirps of the bugs, hoots of the owls, the rustling of raccoons just waking up and ready for breakfast. There was a certain serenity in it that she could appreciate. And, with Tony breathing against her belly, and McGee breathing against her hip, she kept vigil through the night.
