This is my first time writing a fanfiction, so please don't rip if there are a few (or alot) of mistakes in terms of editing. I'm still getting the hang of getting my documents all peachy from word to fanfic, so let me know.

Please Review (not just fishing, want to know if i'm doing this right)

I hope you enjoy!

P.S. I DO NOT OWN NCIS, OR ITS CHARACTERS.

Warning: Contains Language (Better late than never, I suppose)

It was mid afternoon when the agents arrived at the airfield. The flight from D.C. To Somalia would take a tedious 16 hours. Gibbs had let them sleep long into the morning, knowing that after such a traumatic night, they needed the rest. And now, here they were. They walked out onto the tarmac, dressed casually, yet bringing with them their crime scene equipment. They all knew that they wouldn't be need it though.

In front of them, sat an enormous airplane, the same kind that had taken them home from Somalia the first time. The cargo door in the rear was lowered, and airmen in jumpsuits were carrying boxes of equipment on board. Others were backing a bulky looking jeep up the ramp and into the hold. The team had an aura of grim silence about them as they walked. Out from the cargo hold, Trent Kort appeared.

"Agent Gibbs."

"Kort."

"Come now, I understand we don't have the best relationship, but I'm… trying to help here."

"In a recipricationatorilly altima type of way." Tony shot. Kort sighed.

"It's reciprocally altruistic type of way, DiNozzo."

"Whatever."

"So Kort, what do you want? Really. Why are you doing this?" Gibbs decided to cut the formalities.

Kort rubbed his chin, his eyes black behind a pair of aviator sunglasses.

"You'll know when I ask. Just take care of Sharif for me. Your agent, agents, can rest easy afterwards, and I can cross a face off the terrorist watch list. Nothing underhanded about it, I assure you."

Gibbs remained skeptical, eyes thin, trying to detect any trace of malign or dishonest intention. While the older agent had learned to read Kort after heir multiple encounters, he did not see any indication of foul play.

"Alright Kort, we're in. You have our equipment."

"State of the art."

"Good, anything else we should know?"

"Well, Somalia is a hotspot, as you know. But we'll talk on the plane. I'm going with you, I'll run through the Op details on the way."

At that, the 4 propellors of the C-130 began to lumber to life, a plume of exhaust belching from the engines. It felt like the whole tarmac began to shake as the enormous machine rose to life. Kort turned his head, watching the propellors gain speed, then turned back to the agents.

"Shall we?"

"DiNozzo! With me!" Gibbs called, summoning Tony to the Op room. The three younger agents had been milling about in the cargo hold about 2 hours after take off. They were currently somewhere over the Atlantic; The Bermuda Triangle, as Tony had repeatedly pointed out to McGee. Tony addressed Gibbs, following him up a set of metal stairs to the front of the plane and into a door.

McGee watched him go, silently hoping that he wouldn't have to be left alone with Ziva. While they had talked a little about their current situation the night before, he was still apprehensive about everything; still guilty for what he'd done Saturday night.

"Are you avoiding me, McGee?" Ziva questioned him, following him and taking a seat next to him against the side of the plane.

"Uh, no, Z-Ziva, of course n-not. Just, uh, you know… how are you?" She laughed.

"I am well. And you."

"Good. Good. I'm good. Gooooood. Yup, I'm good."

"Do you normally look scared when Tony leaves? I thought you were mad at him."

"Well, I am, still, kinda. Not totally anymore. Just, a little confused. I guess it's my fault for not understanding how he is, you know? Running his mouth when he gets nervous. And we all know, he sometimes doesn't mean what he says. It just hurt, alot."

"I understand."

"You understand?"

"Well, McGee, I understand where you are coming from in your view of him. I do not understand your exact situation."

"Mmm-hmm."

Ziva stared intently at the man. McGee. This man, was a mystery, a puzzle. Maybe all three of them didn't know each other the way they thought. One can only learn so much about a coworker at work. It takes the extracurricular activities. Going out. Getting drinks. Just spending time together.

In a career of which stress levels tend to soar, there is no excuse to not knowing how a coworker will react. All three of them were guilty for that.

To Ziva's surprise, McGee spoke, but the question startled her.

"So, why did you call me Saturday night? Was it just to help with Tony?"

Mcgee was frowning as he looked, pleadingly, with those huge gorgeous green eyes. My god, if he only knew what he could get with simply that look… Ziva thought. She cleared her throat, then confessed.

"Well, initially, yes." She wasn't going to lie. She had persuaded Tony to call McGee Saturday night (not calling herself, for fear she'd come off as desperate), so that he could help her keep control of the older agent. McGee looked into his lap, nodding."

"So then why are we going on a date, Ziva? Tell me that. You didn't want to hang out with me. You didn't want to include me in Saturday night drinks. So why would you want to go on a date with me? Pity? Oh God, it's a pity date isn't it? It's to keep everything casual around work. Or it's for Gibbs. I mean, it's fine, I guess I've come to expect not being called on a weekend, but I thought we were close…"

McGee continued talking, but Ziva tuned him out for a moment, becoming engrossed in her own thoughts. Does he realize what he's saying right now? We'll Ziva, you do deserve that. He's so cute when he rambles. Just puttering along. It looked like he'd been working out alot too. He looks good.

"...and it's just that I'm the tech guy and Gibbs…"

And he just keeps on talking. Ziva, say something! Why are you nervous? Why is this so hard? What are you afraid of?

"...I just don't understand why you said I was single in the recording, I mean, what…"

It can't be that obvious, is it? Maybe that's it. Maybe it's that, he's always been there, he's been constant. He's been kind. Kindness. Hmmm, that is a quality not men have.

"...Because it was like you sounded jealous, and if that's it, then why not want to hang out with me? It's like, I'm not even going to…"

"TIM!" Ziva just about jumped out of her seat. Tim, who had worked himself up to the point of sweating, stared at her like a deer before headlights.

"Tim," she said softer, "Firstly, I did not call you Saturday, because Tony won a bet. Whether or not Ducky's tea has liquor in it. His terms, was that I take him out for drinks. You can ask him yourself. It was not excluding you, just paying for a bet. Secondly, it is not a pity date. I…" She paused, realizing what she was about to say, and the changes it may cause in the MCRT dynamic.

"...I want to go on a date with you. No, McGee, Tim, I would LOVE to go on a date with you. It's that, you have been… constant. You are kind. I have been surrounded by tough, primal, rough men all my life. You have immense strength. Especially when carrying your burdens. And you are loyal. I have yet to meet, now, or in Mossad, someone more ferociously loyal than you…"

McGee couldn't believe what he was hearing! While still listening, the gears in his mind began turning.

Ziva. Ziva David would LOVE to go on a date with me? Tim? Timothy McGee? The Tech Guy? What on earth is happening right now?

"...but what I've realized is that, what I look for, is a man who is in fact strong…"

Oh my god, she called me strong! I'm constant! I'm kind! There's no way I'm going to stop sweating now! I'm blushing, I know it! God I'm so happy. I want to just lean over and kiss her right now!

"...and I hope you are not frightened, but they say the best lovers are best friends, and I consider you…"

Lovers? Lovers? I thought this was just a date! I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. Keep breathing, Tim… Nope that's not working. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to pass out.

"...now, I hope that wasn't too forward, and I'm sure we'll enjoy our date. No expectations. Just best friends, being romantic. And we can take it one day at a time. Because, the truth is, McGee- ah, Tim. Still getting used to that. The truth is, that you were the first one to befriend me when I came to NCIS. Even though the pain of Kate's death was still in your heart, you were able to open your heart a bit more to let me in, even though I was replacing someone you looked up to. And that, McGee, is why… Why I have feelings for you. Because you are the type of man to see someone, anyone, as a friend. To welcome them, make them comfortable, befriend them, and always stand by them. I…"

Ziva stopped, realized she hadn't taken a single breath during her monologue, and inhaled sharply.

Oooh! That feels so good to get it off my chest! I really have feelings for this man. There I said it! Ooooh I haven't felt like this in so long! This feels right! Oh, it feels so right! I wonder what he's thinking about?

McGee stared at Ziva, who had put her hand on his knee sometime during the conversation. His mouth hung open. His face was getting tingly. His stomach was in knots, and his vision was beginning to blur. Seriously, what the hell just happened here, he thought as his face grew tingly, slumping forward, and falling of the seat.

A/N: I know, I know, McGee and Tony using assault rifles. It may seem farfetched, but I think it fits them well (for the situation and the location).