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"Ziva…" she stirred at the long drawn out sound of her name. "Ziva," the voice repeated.

"What?" she groaned, slowly sitting up. "Tony!" she gasped, jumping out of her cot and throwing herself onto him.

"Hey, what did I do to deserve this?" he chuckled, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he wrapped his good arm around her.

"You lived," she quietly sobbed into his chest.

"Yeah," he laughed as she stood back up straight.

"Did they tell you what happened?"

"Apparently McGee and I don't have the same blood type."

"What?" She sat back, making herself comfortable on the edge of the bed as she listened to his speech.

"Well, you see, what a bullet goes though the human body, and you're standing behind the person who got shot, not only to you get sprayed with blood you also get the bloody bullet."

"How did the doctors catch that?" she asked, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. He shrugged his good shoulder before reaching up and stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"I'm just glad they did because I haven't finished my bucket list yet." She smiled and let out a small laugh. "Which reminds me, I think I can cross off another one." She turned around and grabbed her bag from beside the chair, pulling out the folded and worn piece of paper.

"You carry it around with you?" he said with a chuckle.

"Yup," she answered dully, opening the paper. "What number?"

"Three."

"Discover the meaning of life?"

"You, and these little guys," he smiled and patted her stomach before wrapping his am around he waist, pulling her down so he could kiss he. "I finally have something more then my job to live for," he muttered against lips. "And I can never go back from that." She couldn't help but smile as his tongue probed her mouth. Keeping weight off of his injured shoulder, and keeping their lips connected, she got up and situated herself so she was sitting in his lap, a leg on either side of his waist. He slowly ran his hand up and down her thigh, up along her smooth skin and under her shorts before back down again.

"I was going to ask how you were feeling, but that question seems mute now." They broke apart and looked around to the door at the sound of McGee's voice.

"You should have let me take a picture first," Abby scolded before happily skipping into the room. She helped Ziva climb off the bed before enveloping Tony in a hug.

"Abbs, shoulder," he groaned.

"You didn't seem to mind when Ziva was on top of you," she pouted, but let go.

"She was soothing me," he tried.

"Yeah," McGee scoffed, "that's what she was doing." He came and stood next to the girls, staring down at his friend.

"How's your arm, Tim?"

"Well I can't move it, so I can't write, or type, or do anything for that matter."

"Shoulda been a righty," Tony laughed.

"Well you should have been a lefty," McGee shot back, though everyone could tell he was trying to hold back a smile.

"So what did we miss?" Abby asked.

"Me in a coma apparently," Tony half shrugged.

"It was a day," McGee laughed.

"I was worried," Ziva interrupted, waving her hand.

"Yeah well, they set up a bed for you, it's not like you were going anywhere."

"It's too bad they do not have king sized hospital beds," she sighed.

"What happened anyway?" Abby continued as if the other conversation had not started.

"Would you like to explain or shall I?" Tony looked up at Ziva, who couldn't seem to stop smiling.