A/N: Well, you wanted it, so here it is. I must say, I rather enjoy writing these one shots. Just as a point of reference, this takes place after the Agent Lee mess and before the Micheal Rivkin mess in season 6. I do believe the next installment will take place in season. They'll all still deal with unanswered questions though. I hope you enjoy this installment. Please review!!

The wooden crate above their heads exploded into splinters as merciless bullets smashed into them in quick succession. The spray of flying wood forced Ziva and Tony to duck their heads to protect their eyes as they moved back towards a warehouse, using the multiple crates scattered about as protection.

"Boss, we're on the north side of the complex. Bad guys have opened fire, I repeat opened fire. We're moving into a warehouse for cover." Shouted Tony into the mike at his wrist wilst Ziva returned fire.

"I copy DiNozzo. Hang tight, McGee and I are headed your way."

"Zee, I'm gonna blow the handle off that door, then on three, we bolt in, got it?" yelled DiNozzo over the roar over the three sub machine guns pointed their way. The perps were smart: they stayed a distance away lest they become easy targets.

"Negative, Tony! You shoot off the handle then we cannnot lock the door from the inside. Cover me and let me pick the lock." she replied, firing off more rounds.

"No way! You're a sitting duck out there." he responded adamently.

"What do birds have to do with this!?" she roared angrily. Tony rolled his eyes and then through the crates in front of him, saw a propane tank behind their shooters. Taking careful aim, he squeezed his trigger.

The blast was more forceful than Tony had anticipated, but it worked in their favor. The three gunmen were knocked over by the force.

"Go!" shouted Tony to Ziva, indicating to the door. She moved, knowing they only had moments before they would be shot at. Tony stood slightly infront of her, to her left, his gun at the ready. Her brows furrowing in concentration, Ziva worked at the lock.

Then, several things happened at once. The lock clicked open. As Ziva looked up to yell at Tony, two bullets slammed into his chest, pushing him backwards with a yell, putting him next to the doorway. Before Ziva could finish opening the door and grab Tony, a bullet slammed into her lower back. The force pushed her forward, causing her face to smack on the warehouse door. With a growl and ingnoring the pain in her head, Ziva wrenched the door open, grabbed Tony and pulled him inside.

Tony fell to the ground with a thud and some coughing. Ziva just managed to pull the door shut before she too collapsed to the ground. Bullets continued to hammer the building.

"We need to move back," gasped Tony, pain lacing his voice. Ziva flipped over to her stomach and tried to push herself to her feet, but found she couldn't stand. She gasped in pain. Hearing the gunshots coming closer, Tony didn't wait for Ziva to stand: he simply grabbed her arm and together they half limped half crawled to the back of the warehouse, taking up a defensive position beind some crates covered in canvas. Tony sat panting. Ziva tried to get into a seated position next to him, but, as before, a sharp pain shot through her lower back, leveling her to hands and knees.

"Where does it hurt Ziva?" asked Tony seriously. Ziva wanted to give her typical 'I am fine' answer, but the pain was, well, painful.

"Lower back, to the right," she said. Tony patted the ground, indicating for Ziva to lie flat on her stomach. She pulled herself closer to him and did as bid. Ignoring the pain in his chest, Tony leaned forward and pulled the hem of Ziva's NCIS wind breaker. He was grateful to see that the bullet had struck the black Kevlar vest rather than her flesh.

"It's a good thing you had your vest on. Without it, you'd be crippled forever." he said softly. He marveled at how one simple safty measure was the difference between life and death.

"I could say the same for you Tony. You might be dead now." she said. Tony just nodded.

"Help me sit up?" Tony nodded. He pulled Ziva up, her cargos scraping against he dusty concrete floor. She winced and hissed in pain, but regardless, used her legs to help turn her and push herself up. Finally, she and Tony were sitting side by side, both panting slightly. Tiredly, Tony lifted his wrist to his mouth.

"Boss, we're in the warehouse. These guys are still shooting. Ziva and I are hit. Ziva took one in the back, I took two in the chest. Vests took care of us. Where are you?" asked Tony.

"Tony, we're on our way. Hang tight. These bastards are being difficult." reponded Gibbs, his voice strong and earnest.

"Ten four". The particular bastards they were after where drug runners accused of murdering two midshipmen for being unfortunate enough to run across their path in Puerto Rico. Team Gibbs had tracked their operation to a small marina in the outer banks. After a few moments of silence, Tony spoke.

"Lock box?" ased Tony. Ziva was rubbing her nose as it was sore from slamming into the door. After a moment she nodded.

"My turn to go first I think?" asked Ziva knowing full well it was. Tony nodded. Ziva sat in thought still rubbing her nose.

"This one is a little more serious Tony. You do not have to answer." Tony looked at her expectantly.

"Why did you not call?" Tony jumped as if zapped by electricity.

"I am sorry, you do not have to answer," said Ziva hastily. Tony shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine. I was just startled." He took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts.

"Well, at first I guess I thought that you would be ashamed of me. Embarassed by me. You went back to Mossad, land of the other crazy ninja assassins. I didn't think you'd want to hear from me. That's another thing: I had no clue what to say. I was lonely and bitter, but I didn't know how to say that then. After while though..." Tony paused, unhappy memories flooding his mind. Ziva held his hand, tracing small circle into his palm with her fingers. He took this as a sign of encouragement.

"After awhile, I realized...I realized that I was ashamed of myself. I've been a cop and an NCIS agent for years and...and because I got lazy and stupid, the Director was killed." he said, the real truth finally coming out. Ziva continued tracing her circles.

"It was not your fault. At least, not all of it. I was there too, Tony. And the Director ordered us to leave her alone." she said softly. Tony just shrugged his shoulders and then groaned. Ziva looked at him worridly.

"Machine gun rounds hurt." he said. He paused for a second. "You know, I dialed your number. More times than I can count. But, well, I was a little inebriated each time. I figured you deserved better than a drunk Tony DiNozzo calling you." I would have taken a drunken Tony on the phone over no Tony at all, thought Ziva to herself. Before she could respond, however, the door their warehouse burst open and the gunmen spilled in. Tony and Ziva instantly tensed and half jumped to their feet. They failed, but it didn't matter. Two gunmen went down. The other ran toward the back of the warehouse, his submachine gun dropped to the ground, forgotten.

"Freeze, NCIS!" McGee voice reverberated loudly throughout the warehouse; he was waiting for the man at the other side of the warehouse. The gunman froze, his hands shooting into the air. Gibbs entered through the first door, having downed the other men. In moments, McGee had the last gunman frisked and cuffed. Gibbs strode over to Tony and Ziva.

"Do we need an ambulance?" he asked. He was grateful that his agents were okay, but his typical gruff exterior remained in place.

"Please no boss. Just a little bit of ice and we'll be right as rain." Ziva looked at Tony with a confused expression but let the idiom slide.

"Fine. I want you both to go back to NCIS. Leave your vests on. Let Abby take photos before you take them off. They're evidence against this bozo." Tony stifled a groan. They were six hours away from NCIS and the vests were not very comfortable after awhile. Not to mention that he and Ziva would be sporting some very colorful, painful bruises. Tony held his hands out to Gibbs.

"Gimme a hand up?" he said, a toothy grin on his face, fatigue evident around his eyes. Gibbs couldn't help but smirk as he reached down and pulled the younger man to his feet. Tony stood, already feeling sore all over. He reached down to pull Ziva up but found that she could not stand entirely unassisted. Gibbs was concerned as Ziva stumbled into Tony's arms.

"You okay Ziver?" he asked, fatherly worry etched all over his face. Ziva just grimaced and nodded. They both knew Ziva was lying, but rather than call her out, Gibbs let her make the call. If anything was devastatingly wrong, there'd be no way in the world she could stand, with or without help.

"Be sure to ice that. I see either of your faces tomorrow, I'll drag you both out and leave you tied up in my basement." for once, his agents felt too crappy to argue.

Six hours later, Abby's lab

"Abby? Abby. Abby!" Abby jerked from her sleep with a snort. She looked around with bleary eyes before she realized Tony and Ziva at the doorway. Suddenly, she was awake as though it were midmorning rather than midnight.

"Oh, I'm so happy to see you guys," she said, moving to hug Tony. Tony hastily held up the hand that wasn't supporting Ziva.

"Abby, if you hug either of us right now, we might pass out from pain," he said, not really sure he was joking. Abby nodded furiously and went to help Ziva sit down.

"Tony, I'm processing you first." declared Abby. Tony raised his head in protest.

"No, look at Ziva first. She took a bullet in the back." he complained. Abby ignored him, towing the sleepy agent to her work table making him sit atop it.

"Your shots are more straight forward Tony, making them faster to deal with, meaning you go first." said Abby, not in a compromising mood. Wearily, Tony lifted his arms while Abby took pictures. Finally, Abby removed his Kevlar.

"Take off your shirt Tony," commanded Abby. Tony actually blushed a little, throwing the briefest of glances at Ziva before looking at Abby.

"Abs, its not necessary." he protested. Abby glared at him.

"Tony DiNozzo. It's twelve thirty in the morning. You've been shot. While you would normally be checked out by our wonderful Dr. Mallard, he's not here, so that task falls to me. So, take off your shirt, or I will take it off for you!" said Abby, her voice getting louder with each word. Ziva chuckled slightly, which she quickly turned into a cough when Abby spun on her.

Seeing Abby was serious, Tony moved to do as did. Abby winced in sympathy. Tony's toned chest sported brilliant shades of purple, blue, and black. Despite his obvious discomfort, Ziva quirked an eyebrow at Tony's physique, not minding her view of him from Abby's desk. Abby handed Tony a tube of ointment and an NCIS t shirt.

"Your hot Tony, but I'm not about to rub anything onto your skin. Apply it now and wear the shirt so the ointment can air. It will help with the pain. Abby watched to make sure that Tony applied enough and pulled on the t shirt.

"Alright, good man. Now, you go to my office. I set up the futon for you earlier. I'll call you when I'm done with Ziva." Tony nodded, sliding off the counter.

"Thanks Abby," he said, kissing her temple. Abby just smiled and shooed him away. She helped Ziva onto the table, and finally after fifteen minutes of photos, Abby helped Ziva take the vest off. Abby was quiet. Suddenly, Ziva felt a surge of pain in her back and in her legs. She yelped and jumped slightly.

"Abby was that really necessary?" she cried.

"You felt that?" asked Abby seriously.

"Yes of course I felt that! Why would I not!?" Ziva was only mildly angry. Though if it were anyone but Abby, she would have retaliated.

"You be grateful you can feel that Ziva David. If you didn't have that vest on, you'd be in wheelchair the rest of your life." Abby was getting worked up and Ziva was curious why. Ignoring the pain in her back for a moment, Ziva turned to look over her shoulder. Abby's eyes welled up with unshed tears. Suddenly, like a ton of bricks, it hit Ziva why Abby was upset. Kate, she thought to herself.

"Abby come here, I cannot turn around." Abby did as bid, her head down a little. Ziva put her hands on her friend's shoulders.

"Abby, look at me." she said. Again Abby complied, though slowly.

"Tony and I are fine. I will not say that we did not come close, because we did. But, Gibbs is a good leader and Tony...he is good partner. We do our best to keep each other safe. I hope you take some solace in that." Ziva was trying her very best not to be the stoic warrior Abby had once accused her of being. She knew that wasn't what Abby needed to hear.

"But what happens when your best isn't good enough Ziva. What if you do everything you're supposed to and one of you still ends up dead?" Silent tears were now trailing down Abby's face. Ziva took her into a hug, rubbing her back.

"Abby, I do not know why some things happen the way they do. Danger is part of our job. We just...we have to keep going, keep trying, no matter how bad it gets. Sometimes, that means throwing ourselves in the line of embers. For some reason or another, we are all here, working for a common purpose. If we let fear get in the way, we fail to reach the goal. If that is always going to be the case, what is the point of being here anyway?" Abby was quiet for a moment before she backed away with a chuckle, wiping her eyes.

"What Abby?" ased Ziva, suddenly unsure of Abby's shift in mood.

"You said line of embers. It's line of fire." Ziva rolled her eyes and chuckled as well. Abby gave Ziva mega smile before she went back around the countertop. She rubbed ointment into Ziva back and also had her don an NCIS t shirt.

"You need to go lie down on the futon. You and Tony are not allowed to leave until we're sure there is no permanent damage." said Abby, quirking her eye brow. Ziva rolled her eyes and hopped off the counter. Her legs wobbled and her back ached, but she was able to stand. Doing her best not limp and failing miserably, she went to Abby's back office.

Tony was lying on his back atop the futon. He raised his head as Ziva walked in.

"You okay?" he asked, shifting over. The futon was small and wouldn't do much along the lines of real sleep, but Ziva didn't care. She was exceedingly tired. She sat next to Tony slowly, gingerly lowering herself down. Tony left his arm out straight and Ziva used it as a pillow.

"Yes, I am fine. Well, relatively. No permanent damage." she let out a long slow sigh.

"We came pretty close today, huh?" remarked Tony after awhile.

"We certainly did." she responded, growing sleepy.

"Hey Ziva?" ventured Tony.

"Hmm?" she said, floating between sleep and wakefulness.

"How did you get those rug burns on your knees? You never did tell me." Ziva's eyes shot open. Now she was fully awake.

"I assume you are referring to the ones from three years ago?" she asked, just to be sure.

"Well, yeah, those are the only ones I remember." Ziva let out a bark of laughter.

"That shipping crate was terrible." she said, thinking back to when they were boxed in after a shoot out.

"It was. So come on, where'd the rug burn come from?" he asked again, his voice suggestive.

"It is not nearly as promiscuous as you think Tony. In fact, it is less than G rated."

"Oh yeah? Then tell me. It is still your turn to answer." he said. Ziva finally sighed.

"If you must know, I got them moving furniture around. You see, nothing even remotely interesting."

"You're lying," deadpanned Tony. Her explanation was not nearly as interesting as he was hoping.

"No I am not! There were people over my house that night, how could it be anything else?" Tony sighed, knowing she was right.

"You played it up to be something far more interesting is all." Ziva chuckled.

"Tony, you have to understand: you are too much fun not to mess with sometimes. Take that as a compliment. It just means we trust you to know that you know we are just kidding and do not mean anything serious by it." she said.

"Um, Ziva, I'm tired. I don't think I understand a thing you just said." he said, sounding sincerely confused.

"Tony, it means you are a good sport and that we would never intentionally hurt or lie to you."

"Oh. I guess I could live with that." he let forth a huge yawn.

"I agree. If it makes you feel better, I will give you a free question." muttered Ziva, falling asleep.

"Will you cook dinner for me sometime?" he asked, just this side of sleep.

"Sure. Whatever you want my little hairy butt." She muttered.

Abby poked her head into her office a short while later. She smiled at the sight of her friends, Ziva resting her head on Tony's arm, Tony's head leaning against Ziva's. They looked peaceful. Backing away quietly, she shut the door as loud snores began to resonate through the room.

A/N: If you've never experienced any extreme back pain, be grateful. I jammed two vertebra in my lower back a couple summers ago (yes, I was doing something stupid. What else are summers for?) and I still have days where just walking hurts. So, yeah, be good to your back! And the rest of you. It's the only you you'll ever have!!

Bye!