Chapter 6

"Ziva?"

"What, McGee?"

"Why didn't you shoot him? What happened?"

Now, it was Ziva's turn to look away.

"I mean, I've never seen you freeze. You're so... so capable."

Ziva looked back. "I thought I was about to die," she said slowly, "and I realized that I was not ready for it. In that moment, I froze and I did not have the time to thaw."

Tim was silent. They stared at each other for another long moment.

"Thank you, McGee."

"What for?"

"For saving me."

Tim grinned, a ghost of a smile which faded as another wave of pain washed over him, and said, "Did I surprise you?"

Ziva let out a laugh. "Yes, McGee. You surprised me. I did not think you could move so quickly, and you weigh a lot more than you look."

Tim laughed a little as well, but winced and asked, "You don't think much of me, do you?"

There, in the dim beam of the flashlight, their eyes locked together, Ziva knew that she should lie, but that she couldn't do it well enough to fool Tim.

"As I said before, I do not understand you. Men like you do not become field agents. They become..."

"Computer technicians? Nerds?" Tim asked without rancor.

"Well, yes. Tony was a police officer. Gibbs was a Marine. I am a Mossad officer. But you, McGee, you were a computer geek. You studied how to be an agent through courses, not actual experience. I do not understand what drives you."

"Does respect require understanding?"

"I respect your abilities..."

"Just not in the field," Tim finished grimly. When she didn't disagree, he continued, "Ziva, I can't really explain to you why I chose this path. I can only tell you that, even though you don't think I'm much good, this is the one place that I feel I belong. Everyone needs somewhere like that. NCIS is my place. It defines me."

"But why, McGee? Look at yourself now. You are lying on a cold floor in a sealed room, bleeding, waiting for help. You could be anywhere else and yet you would choose this?"

"Yes, I would. Don't you see, Ziva? Here, I am making a difference. I'm helping people. I am doing something that makes others' lives better. Isn't that what you want?"

Ziva opened her mouth to reply and stopped. She hadn't even thought about why she did these things. She just did them.

"Why do you do what you do, Officer David?"

Ziva started when she heard the formal address. Tim never called her that. She was always Ziva to him. It forced her to speak.

"In the beginning, that is what I wanted. I suppose that I have not thought about such things in a long time. I just do what is required."

"You should think about it more often."

"McGee, why is it that you always call me Ziva?"

Tim blinked in surprise at the question. "Does it bother you? I can stop if it does."

"No, it does not. I just realized that no one calls you Tim and yet, with the exception of Gibbs, you call everyone by their first name. Why?"

"It's how I address people, at least those I consider friends."

"But not Gibbs?"

Tim chuckled. "Not even you call him Jethro. He'd probably kill me or at the least give me a death glare."

"But you consider me a friend?"

"I would like to," Tim said, a little shyly.

"You are intriguing, McGee."

"I guess that's better than being confusing." Tim winced and tried to shift position again. "How long have we been in here? It feels like a long time. Much longer than a few hours."

"I do not know for certain." Ziva looked around the windowless room. "It does feel as though we have been in here at least overnight."

"That's not a good sign. Maybe the fake wall fooled them."

"Perhaps." Suddenly, Ziva was overcome with restlessness. Gently, she eased Tim into a sitting position and began to pace the room.

Tim watched her for a while. She was so different from Abby, the last woman he'd had real feelings for, but there was something that drew him to her. Intriguing was perhaps the right word for it. He had passed it off as mere curiosity, a desire to get to know the people on his team, but he had to admit that there was more to it than that. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and tried to hold in the groan that bubbled up in his throat. Laying down had been more comfortable, but he wasn't about to suggest it.

"Ziva?"

From her position at the door, Ziva answered, "What, McGee?"

"Why don't you ever call me by my first name?"

Ziva turned back with the flashlight and the beam hit Tim right in the eyes. "Sorry, McGee." She moved the beam away. "No one calls you Tim."

Tim rolled his eyes. "I know, but you call Tony by his first name most of the time." He blinked slowly. "I guess I feel kind of like I'm on the outside of everything."

"You have been at NCIS longer than I have."

"I know. That's what makes it all so... annoying. When you first came, I wanted to help you... fit in. I knew how I felt about you and how everyone else felt, and I didn't want to let that keep you from belonging. Imagine how I felt when I realized that you fit in better than I ever could."

"I never knew that."

"It's not something I broadcast to the general public."

Ziva walked over and knelt in front of Tim. She took in his paleness, the shaking that had never quite eased, his blood-soaked jacket. It should have made him seem weaker, less able, but Ziva was surprised to realize that Tim seemed stronger than before.

"...Tim..."

Tim smiled. "I like that, Ziva."

Ziva smiled warmly. "I like it as well, Tim."

"We can't get out of here on our own, can we."

"No."

Tim nodded. "Then, would you mind sitting next to me?"

It was a refreshingly direct approach. None of the innuendo-laden conversation Tony used. Tim was simply earnest. Without answering, Ziva resumed her seat next to Tim, but instead of putting his head in her lap, she leaned his head on her shoulder. She eased her arm around his waist. Tim did the same. She could feel the tremors shaking his body. If they weren't found soon, Tim would probably die. There was no point in bringing it up. What purpose could it serve? Instead, she held him tightly and tried to pretend that she wasn't going to lose another man as soon as she made an emotional connection.

"Would you like to go to dinner sometime?"

Ziva blinked. "What?"

"Would you go out with me, Ziva? To dinner?"

"Yes. I would, Tim."

"Good. Once we're out of here, we can see to the details." Tim sighed and leaned more heavily against her shoulder.

"Does your arm still hurt?"

"Yes."

"Badly?"

"Yes. As long as I don't move, it doesn't hurt as badly."

"Really?"

To her surprise, Tim let out a mirthless chuckle. "No. I keep thinking that if I pretend it will be true."

"Does it work?"

"I'll let you know."

The silence that descended this time was a comfortable one. Two people from opposite sides of the spectrum of life had found a place in the middle to meet. They had forged a connection, not so easily as Tim's had been with Erin, but possibly more lasting... if it had a chance to last.