"Probieee!" Tony yelled as loud as his throbbing skull would allow. "Drive faster!"

"I am doing what I can here." McGee was relatively calmer than Tony as he replied. Actually, at this point, everyone else is calmer than Tony. He's even more panicky than Abby. "We're almost there."

"Hang on, Ziva." Abby whispered nervously to her friend before she turned her head to Tony. "What exactly happened, Tony? What was she talking about?"

"I do not know what's going on, Abbs." He gestured anxiously to his partner's unconscious form. "I don't feel good about this.

"She's going to be fine." The goth assured him.

Tony was about to mutter a response when he heard his probie's relieved sigh. "We're here."

Nurses and doctors met them in front of the emergency room. A gurney magically appeared behind them while they were taking Ziva from his lap. He would lift her, but given his arm situation, he stayed put and let the orderlies get her. She was lifted, strapped, and wheeled off towards the hospital in record time.

As his partner was being carted off, everything started to become awfully slow for Tony. He could hear voices, but it's like they're being said from the other end of a tunnel. Not so far away, he could spot Abby talking to a doctor in hushed tones. McGee was standing beside her.

He thought reaching the hospital would offer some sort of relief to that gnawing feeling that was starting to eat his gut from inside out. Dread was creeping into him like a slimy pestilence—devouring its way through as it slithered at every corner of his concussion-muddled mind. He raises his hand, intending to run it through his head. However, when his fingers levelled with his line of vision, what he saw in them made his stomach churn.

Blood.

It barely took him a split second before he had steered himself towards the group. Heart racing, he hurriedly made his alarming discovery known. "I have blood in my hands. I am not sure how I got them, but I think it is hers." He spat out his words so rapidly he wasn't entirely sure if anyone caught any of it.

He wasn't sure how long was he wandering along the halls of the hospital before a rushing male doctor bumped none too gently onto him. No one fell or anything, so that was good. At least, that's what he thought. It was kinda hard to notice things when half of your brain is all smashed up. In fact, he didn't even hear what doctor speedy said to him after their accidental collision. Whether it was a heartfelt apology or an ample helping of some good ol' swear words, he could not tell. Tony scowled nonetheless.

Ziva's blood was literally in his hands. It's all dried up, but it' still there, mocking him, making his hand to uncontrollably shake. Aside from that, no other remotely sane thought was registering in his sore head.

"Tony, are you okay? Where the hell did you go?" Tim pulled him out of his reverie with a slight shake. The probie's methods were crude, considering his condition, but it was effective. "And what are you doing?"

"Oh, that... Good question, McGeek!" Tony was silent for a while, contemplating for the answer which had evaded him as well. As a final resort, he stuck with the obvious. He was still scowling. "What do you think? Isn't it obvious that I'm staring at my partner's blood on my hand?"

"Sit somewhere and stay still." The probie commanded, observing him carefully. Perhaps it was adrenaline was wearing off. That plus the mild concussion. "You could use it."

Surprisingly, Tony did not show any hints of defiance nor mocking at McGee's authoritative tone. He merely nodded and did as ordered.

Tony chose an empty corner and slid against the wall. The flurry of people around him was making him dizzy, so he opted to move him gaze up the ceiling. At least that part of the hospital still had the decency of not making his world wobble further.

As if on cue, the events of the previous hour played in his head. There was talk. Talk. Then talk again There was laughter, even. Then all of a sudden she's in pain. She tells you she's fine, and then all of a sudden she faints. She faints! Ninjas do not faint.

She really has to work on her lying skills. They're getting rusty. Eighty five year old iron man rusty.

Could it be possible that she bled and passed out because of something he did? She wouldn't just drop down for no reason would she?

He does not know how long was he sitting there before Tim chose to slide down beside him. The probie looked thoroughly worn out. No one spoke at first, and Tony initially thought that it was better that way. However, as minutes ticked by, a sudden need to talk began to gnaw at him. "Sorry... about earlier." He can't remember what exactly he was sorry about, but for some reason, he remembered that it had to be said.

"You are worried about her." Tim understood him, and he wasn't really looking for an apology in the first place.

"Huh." Tony went for the sound of utmost incredulity, but he ended up sounding completely forlorn.

Tim was still staring at him like he was waiting for him to say something.

Even the simplest conversation confuses him, so he said the only thing that came to his mind. "Ninjas don't faint."

"Okay." Tim agreed, still with that expectant stare. Not a creepy kind of expectant stare, of course. That would be, uh, well... creepy.

Tony snapped. "If you're waiting for me to say something else, or give you answers, you have to ask a question."

"Fair enough." Tim nodded, then asked, "You sure you're okay?"

His next words were laced with sarcasm. "Concussion. Partner in the ER... Yeah, I'm perfect."

Tim's gaze did not falter for a moment.

"My brain's doing long jumps and pirouettes inside my skull... sometimes I'm thinking clear, sometimes vague..." He tried to smile, though he is quite sure what he came up with is a grimace, "but I'll live."

Silence again.

"Where's Abby?" Tony asked as he glanced at the huge clock directly above the window to his right. It's 7:28 pm, and it is snowing outside. Not enough flurry to fret over though.

McGee sighed inwardly. "She insisted on buying us snacks."

"She shouldn't have." Tony took a fleeting look at the clock again. Still 7:28. What is taking them so long?

A voice that they have been long accustomed to hearing suddenly pulled the two agents out of their conversation. The sound of it made both of them feel frightened and relieved at the same time. It was a very welcoming feeling. "Talk to me." They heard him say.

An audible sigh came from Tony's throat as he glanced up, and his silver haired boss came into view. Ducky was still treading towards them, though he was not that far behind. The two agents stood up slowly out of their current slump.

"They said something about a wound at her hip, but the doctors won't elaborate yet. They're still checking on her boss." The ever dutiful McProbie replied. It is good that he did—for Tony himself wouldn't know what to tell. He couldn't actually say that he suddenly made Ziva faint just by talking to him. For one thing, Ziva and the word 'faint' do not really belong in one sentence. It sounded wrong—like a violation to the laws of nature. Like a sin to the gods. It is even worse that saying Steve McQueen isn't the King of Cool. Or that Jack Nicholson's nose wasn't broken in Chinatown.

Well, as it appears, there is always a first for everything. Regretfully so, in some cases.

"They've been there for half an hour." McGee went on, "Any news on the case?"

"Caught the perp. Jacobson confessed to using illegal drugs, and spiking David's drink, but not to the murder." Gibbs replied flatly, going straight to the point. "She took a deal, gave us the list of the drugs in her concoction, gave up the names of her dealer, and the name of killer. Even I was surprised."

McGee fought the urge to raise one of his eyebrows at his boss. He's making it all sound so simple. He wondered if it indeed was. Topping this was the fact that Gibbs has just said more words today than all of the days of the previous week combined. And that can be said without the slightest hint of exaggeration. More so, Gibbs? Surprised? Ha.

And he solved the entire case.

"Did she say why she drugged Ziva?"

"Said she likes sharing. It's Christmas." Gibbs replied flatly.

That response seemed fitting, given the person who said it. The loony woman sure knew how to give loony answers. Her weird attire suddenly suited her so well. But is it just him or did it look like something's not sitting well with his boss?

"The guy who went bonkers on me?" Tony inquired, though he already had an inkling of what his boss' answer would be. He felt a familiar feeling in his gut the moment he saw that burly dude. And it was not just because he was holding a ginormous bat. Hell, even his toenails screamed 'killer'.

"Yep. He's the dealer." Gibbs said. "Our victim saw him sell Mrs. Jacobson drugs, so he confronted him. It got him killed. The woman saw it all."

Tony knew what the answer to his next question will be, though he can't help wanting to hear it. After all, that douche bag did bash his head. With a bat. "And he is?"

"Dead."

"Oh." He muttered half-heartedly.

"Abby is checking the list of drugs I've taken from Jacobson as we speak, verifying if there's anything she'd missed." Tony heard his boss say. "I'll be downstairs to get coffee."

"Okay boss." Tony grimaced as a sharp wave of pain announced itself in his skull. His knees wobbled slightly. "Got it."

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs glared at him. "Sit on a damn chair."

For everyone who reviewed my work, and who were able to reach this far: Thank you for all your kind words! This story is my first attempt at writing humor, and i hope it's wasn't dull or OOC. I'm not exactly used to writing fiction (especially humor) since my line of work demanded writing stuff in a completely different way but whatever...

Btw, have you seen a movie / tv episode where a character's heart monitor flatlines and then all of a sudden the doctor electrocutes them with those iron-like paddles? That move is not right. I just saw one earlier, and I can't help but point out that it is incorrect to cardiovert someone who's in asystole (flatline)!

That move is used only if there's irregular heart rhythm (ie, the heart's beating in an abnormally rapid and incorrect way like in supraventricular tachycardia), and you want to terminate the said incorrect rhythm quick so the heart could restart and beat the right way again. If there's no electrical activity (flatline), there is nothing to terminate because the heart is not beating at all; hence, what's supposed to be done there are chest compressions (where you manually make the heart beat again with your hands).

But then again, cardioversion (and defibrillation for that matter) looked more dramatic on tv so...