Aug 25
We want but two or three friends, but these we cannot do without, and they serve us in every thought we think. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
Tim stood by his car, kicking a tire again for good measure. He had only had it serviced the week before – how could it break down so quickly?
He was in the middle of nowhere, far from civilization. To his astonishment, there was a cell tower nearby so at least he had been able to call for help. Knowing his luck, he had expected to be stuck on this country road for days before anyone else passed.
His first call had been to Ziva. He was not letting Tony see him like this and although she drove at the speed of light, it simply meant he would be able to get out of here quicker. And despite his distrust of her driving skills, he trusted her with everything else. If he told her a secret, she would keep it. If he had a problem, she would do the best she could to fix it.
His second call had been to Abby. He would have called her first, but he wanted to reassure her that help was on the way and she didn't have to worry about him. After she had taken several very deep breaths, they had ended up having a long discussion about anything and everything. He had been pleased to hear her voice and it had made the time fly by.
His third and final call had been to Ducky. The Scot had offered to head over to the garage and get a head start in complaining. Tim had gladly agreed – Ducky could be terrifying when he wanted to be.
Kicking another tire again for good measure, he heard the arriving car long before he saw it. The brakes squealed as Ziva slammed them to come to a stop right in front of him.
"Do you need a lift?" she inquired redundantly.
Tim smiled thankfully at her. "Please."