Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: There's a pretty big development in this chapter...

Ziva jumped; turning to see a car finally drive off after having a rough start. She took a deep breath, her father's words ringing in her head.

"In Mossad, we call that the difference between life and death."

She shook her head, sending his voice out of her head and into the early afternoon sunshine. A week had passed since Tim's encounter with her father, and they had put up with the heavy guard surrounding her and her sister and their families. Tali, Michael and their kids were at Ducky's house, and Sarah and Damon had taken the kids out for a day, leaving Ziva and Tim with the rest of the team. Nervous, she glanced around quickly, before heading into the building. Tim was waiting for her, coffee in hand. A grin tugged at her lips, and she accepted the coffee, following him into the elevator. As the doors closed behind them, she let her arms wrap around his neck.

"Toda, Agent McGee." He chuckled.

"Al lo Davar, Agent David." She grinned, meeting him in the middle and drinking in his kiss. The elevator shook, followed by the sound of something giving way.

"Tim!" She slammed into him, sending them both to the ground. He managed to somehow shift so she was beneath him and away from the majority of the debris coming towards them. Eventually, the noise stopped, filled by silence, dust and smoke. She coughed, reaching for his hand. "Tim? Tim!" He groaned, pushing something off of him.

"You okay, Zi?" He whispered softly, choking on the smoke. She nodded.

"Yes. You?" He nodded, coughing.

"Yeah. I'm okay." She pulled away, removing her jacket and tossing it to the floor.

"What the hell happened?" Tim looked around, coughing as his mind began to work through the scenarios.

"It... felt like... almost like a small explosion... like the planes that hit the towers on Nine-Eleven." She turned to him, watching as he began to remove his own jacket.

"That is not funny, Tim." He shook his head, wadding his jacket up.

"It... wasn't meant as a joke, Zi." He swallowed. "I had a friend, who was having breakfast with his sister at Windows on the World the day the towers fell. He sent me a text... saying that it felt like something in the building exploded... He left me a voicemail later, minutes before the towers fell, saying that it was getting... harder to breathe and that there was smoke everywhere... and that... that he didn't think it was an explosion, that he thought it was maybe a plane, that had crashed into the building... he didn't make it."

"Oh Tim-" Tim shook his head.

"That's what I was referring to. It was so slight, he couldn't even tell if it was a plane or a bomb. This... it felt like a plane, impacting with the building, not a bomb..."

"Oh Tim!" His brow furrowed, but he soon understood the horror on Ziva's face as she grabbed his sleeve and ripped it up the side, revealing the gash in his arm. "Here." She knelt down, rummaging around the debris for their bags, and finding hers, pulled out her scarf. Taking her knife out of her belt, she quickly sliced through her scarf, cutting it into strips before working on his wound. He chuckled softly, taking a deep breath.

"When did you get to be so maternal, Zi?" She grinned, fingers quickly working on the makeshift bandage.

"When I discovered I was carrying your son." He closed his eyes, hissing gently as she finished.

"I am sorry."

He shook his head, reaching up to caress her cheek. "As long as you're okay. That's all I care about." She nodded, accepting his soft kiss, before pulling away. Tim looked around, before turning to his wife. "Come here." She furrowed a brow. "Just come here." Slowly, Ziva did as told, and let out a squeak of surprise as Tim lifted her up.

"Tim!" She kicked out, but he tightened his grip.

"On my shoulders. Sit on my shoulders." A moment passed, before she understood. In a matter of a few minutes, Ziva was sitting on his shoulders, examining the blocked elevator ceiling. "At least the top of the elevator protected us from whatever happened."

She grunted in response, pushing against the ceiling. "I can... think of... worst ways to... die..." Another push brought no response from the ceiling. "I am... almost there..." She groaned, stopping. "God, we are stuck! Something is blocking it!" She looked down at her husband. "It is jammed. They are going to have to open it from the outside." Before she could say another word, the elevator shifted, and she reached down, wrapping her arms tight around Tim's neck as the lights flickered and she slid to the ground. "We slipped."

"Really? I thought I felt the earth move." A slow shake of her head, as she searched his eyes. Several minutes passed in silence before she whispered,

"You are sweating."

"It's hot in here, Zi."

"I had not noticed." They stared at each other for several minutes, before Tim took a seat on the ground. She watched him. "What are you doing, Timothy?" He shrugged, looking up at her.

"Might as well wait until they get someone to let us out." Sighing, she joined him on the ground, laying her head on his shoulder.

Smoke filled the bullpen. Tony slowly climbed to his feet; he had no clue where anyone else was, where Gibbs or Abby or Tim and Ziva were. He knew Ducky and Jimmy were with Tali and Michael and the kids, at Mallard Manor, keeping the children entertained, while their parents came in to work on cold cases, but other than that, he had no idea of anything else. Footsteps sounded, and he turned, finding Gibbs come towards him.

"Hey Boss."

"You okay?" The older man asked, laying a hand on his shoulder. Tony nodded.

"Um... yeah, I think so. You?" Gibbs coughed briefly and looked around.

"Where's Tim and Ziva?" Tony swallowed. Come to think of it, he hadn't even seen Tim come into the bullpen that morning.

"Um... I... I don't know... Elevator... I... I think..." He watched as Gibbs tried the phone, only to find it dead. "It... it feels really warm in here..." He turned from his boss, heading towards the bullpen entrance. "I think... I think I'm gonna go get some fresh air..." He started pulling his jacket off, when Gibbs's voice stopped him.

"Hey! Stop!" The older man moved around his desk, back towards his senior agent. Tony turned back to him.

"What?" He asked, confused. Gently, Gibbs brushed the jacket to the side, and Tony moved his gaze down. There, residing within Tony's side, was a jagged piece of glass. Gibbs watched silently as blood seeped into his shirt, staining it a deep red. Suddenly, Tony's hazel eyes moved up to meet his boss's ice blue ones.

"Uh-oh." Gently, Gibbs reached up, caressing his oldest's cheek, concerned.