-1Okay, got this one out faster than I expected, but I haven't had any major homework the past two days, so I had a bit more time to write. But this one was actually not wonderfully easy - it's hard to write Jeanne, 'cause I hardly know anything about her! So, I can't really tell if I'm keeping her in character, so if I'm not, I do apologize. Oh, and for the record, I'm open for ideas… what do people want to see? I've left a couple options open for what can happen with Ziva, and as I've added Jeanne in now, there are multiple things I could do with this. Oh, I love the possibilities! Now just give me opinions. Help me decide which way to go with it. In other words, review! Or else I'll just have to go with whatever I feel like, and that could be dangerous, lol. Anyways, I'll stop babbling now; enjoy the chapter. Thanks!!

Chapter Nine

"Why are all the chairs in hospitals these uncomfortable plastic ones?" Tony shifted awkwardly in said chair. "I mean, hospitals are uncomfortable enough. They could at least get nice chairs. You're lucky you get the bed." He paused a moment thoughtfully. "Though, if memory serves, they aren't the most comfortable beds in the world, either." If Ziva were awake, she might have been annoyed by his constant rambling. But she wasn't awake, and Tony couldn't stand sitting silent, with the beeping of the EKG the only sound to be heard. "But, still better than the chairs, you know."

It still wasn't easy for him to actually look at her, even after sitting there for five minutes, so he found himself examining all the medical equipment in the room - all except that ominous-looking red cart against the wall in the corner. He knew they kept a crash cart in every ICU room, but he still didn't like to consider what its presence suggested.

About every thirty seconds or so, though, his eyes would betray him by straying back to the bed. His short glances were enough for him to easily recite everything that was just so wrong about this picture. Ziva wasn't that pale - not by a long shot. And she was never that still. Wires connected her to various machines, like she was some sort of robot. An oxygen mask covered her mouth and nose; he was sure she would find that bothersome. The IV drips into her arm, too… there was something just not right about sticking needles in people with intent to leave them there. They were probably saving her life, though, considering one of them was a blood transfusion - but he didn't want to think about how her life was in danger. So on the base levels, the needles could be added to his 'wrong' list.

The bed was a bit different than hospital beds he was used to seeing. He guessed it probably had something to do with the whole 'risk of spinal damage' thing. It didn't look like it was moveable, like most were; rather, it was fixed in a sort of 'propped up while still laying down' position, with the lower half flat and the upper half at an angle. Tony wondered if Ziva would find that comfortable, or if she preferred to lay flat - hopefully she wouldn't mind it the way it was, since it didn't appear she'd be able to change it. He wondered, too, if they had her in any type of back brace beneath the covers. He almost hoped not, as that was sure to be uncomfortable - anyways, it didn't look like she'd be moving much any time soon.

"Hey, but think of it this way. Paid time off. 'Cause, you know, they pay you for recovery time if you get hurt at work." They'd paid him for his time off recovering from the Y pestis thing, so he was sure they'd do the same for her. But Ziva wouldn't want the time off. She'd be complaining, if she were awake, the second she was told how long she'd have to be off to recover. "You could use the break, though! So, you aren't allowed to complain, 'cause I won't sit around and listen to it." He shook his head. "Nope, second you start complaining, I'm out of here."

But it wasn't the same, picking on her when she couldn't answer back. It wasn't right, a one-sided banter. So he trailed off, sighed, then reached out and carefully took hold of her hand. As usual, he couldn't keep his mouth shut - the silence was just too…silent. "You'd slap me if you were awake, wouldn't you? I never pegged you one for holding hands. But, you can't do anything about it, so I'm gonna hold your hand. Okay?" He paused for a second, then nodded. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Talking to yourself?" The voice made him jump, and he turned to find Jeanne leaning lightly against the doorframe. He shrugged.

"Talking to Ziva."

Jeanne smiled. "You know, that's one of the best things you can do." She came up behind him and laid a hand lightly on his shoulder. "She can probably hear you. I'm sure it'll make her feel better, to know you're here."

Tony chuckled. "If she can hear me, I'm gonna be in trouble when she wakes up. After she gets beyond the fact that the best thing I could come up with to talk about were the chairs, she'll spend hours reminding me of all the time I complained about something. 'And you're telling me you don't want me to complain?'" He grinned slightly.

Jeanne laughed slightly. "You guys are pretty good friends, it sounds like."

He shrugged again. "We're partners. We spend a lot of time together, just because of that. Get to know each other pretty well." He nodded. "So, yeah, I guess we are. Good friends."

"She's doing well, Tony." She sat down lightly on the chair's armrest. "She'll be okay."

"She'd better be, or I might have to glare at her," he said, striving for lightness, but his tone gave him away. Jeanne draped an arm around his shoulders.

"She will be." There was a momentary pause. "So, um… that girl you were talking with in the waiting room. Is she an agent, too?"

"Huh?" Tony glanced sideways at her. "Oh, Abby?" He laughed. "No! No, Abby's not an agent. Heh, she's our forensic scientist."

That seemed to surprise Jeanne more than the idea of her being an agent. "She's a scientist?"

He nodded. "I know she doesn't much look it, but she is. Abby's a genius. …A mad genius, but a genius just the same."

"Hm. I never would have guessed she was a scientist."

"Yep. If you'd have been around a bit longer you'd probably have met my boss… or, rather, been yelled at by my boss." Tony paused thoughtfully for a second before adding, "Come to think of it, it's probably better that you left. Apparently he was telling off every doctor he ran into."

Jeanne laughed along with him. "Well, I hope he didn't yell at you too much."

"Nah, he was all quiet. But he's scarier that way, honestly."

They sat in silence for another minute or two before Jeanne slid off the armrest and stood. "I've got to go take care of some things, but I'll be in to check on her later. If I don't see you before you leave, I'll call you tonight?"

He nodded. "Okay." He knew, though, that he'd probably see her when she came to check on Ziva again. He didn't think he'd be going anywhere anytime soon, as long as he was allowed to stay.

Jeanne paused at the door and looked back at him. "She'll be alright, Tony." He met her gaze and smiled, then waved at her as she left.

Of all the doctors to be on Ziva's case, it had to be the most awkward situation possible. He sighed. At least Jeanne hadn't brought up Abby's apparent confusion at seeing her; he didn't know if he could deal with having to explain that right now. To Jeanne, or to his coworkers. He glanced back at Ziva. "This started out as such a normal day. And now, look where we've gotten it." He paused for a second, then corrected, "I've gotten it."

If she could, she'd probably lecture him for this guilt trip he had himself on. But she couldn't, and he knew it was his fault she couldn't, so that didn't help at all. He sighed and lightly squeezed Ziva's hand. "Come on, Ziva, you've got to pull through." He'd lost one partner already… one 'good friend', one person he'd really cared about. "I can't lose you, too."