A/N: Okay, everybody cheer now! Because I adore this scene, and I'm hoping you guys will too. Why is it adorable? One word: Abby. Abyy is so amazing, and Gibbs is secretly a matchmaker, I swear. You can just see the wheels turning in his head when he placed Ziva and Damon together during this recent episode. *Dramatic fangirl sigh* Wonderful...

DEAR CASS: Thank you for pestering me to get my ass in gear. :) It worked.

Much love! ~Kasha


Ziva felt fire explode in her shoulder, over his heart, but muffled a sound against him. They landed hard, and rolled behind the counter, safe for the moment. She focused on deep and even breathing, though it sent fire through her.

"Ziva?" Damon looked down at her to find blood already pouring from the wound. "Ziva! How bad?"

She grit her teeth. "We have to get out of here."

He looked around. The sniper had them pinned In the kitchen. If they moved beyond the counter, he would have them. Shit.

"Turn out the light."

He looked down, startled. "What?" He propped her up so her uninjured shoulder was nestled under his. He looked around and grabbed a towel from the fridge door handle. He bundled it and applied pressure, hoping to stem the blood flow. She hissed, muscles tensing, but didn't make a sound other than that.

"Turn the light off. The closest building is across a children's park. He is either in one of the windows or on the roof, so he has to be using a scope." She breathed in harshly, and Damon felt his blood boil. Someone had shot Ziva.

Had tried to kill him, but she had jumped in front of him. He shut his eyes for a moment, wanting to get that sight out of his head. As long as he lived, he'd never get rid of the feel of her body jerking against his as she took the bullet meant to kill him.

But now wasn't the time to hesitate. He opened his eyes and a drawer under the stove. Grabbing a long, thin cookie sheet, he looked up at the light switch. From his angle, he could hit it and flip it up-and off-if he could hit it.

He was a Marine. Of course he could hit his target.

Sending the sheet flying with a powerful flick of his arm and wrist, the lights went off and he ran. He had an arm around her waist and the other reaching for her cell phone and keys. He could almost feel the sniper trying to adjust, but the early morning shadows were to their advantage as he smashed the door open with his foot and ran down the hallways.

"You're paying... for that." She forced herself to keep up with him, ignoring the pain and racing down the flight of stairs to the parking lot.

Damon laughed once, not looking at her as he ripped the door open, settled her inside, then rolled over the hood smoothly to jump into his side. By now the shooter would be looking for them, watching, so he would take streets blocked by the building itself. He gunned the accelerator and raced down side streets, alleys. "How you holding up?" He slowed to get into regular traffic and glanced over at her, a worried look crossing his brow.

"I have had worse." She looked over and smiled.

Damon didn't know whether he liked that or not. "Not exactly encouraging," he grumbled.

She winced as someone cut him off, and he swore at the asshole. "Easy. Why don't you call Gibbs. Tell him to get Ducky to meet us at the loading dock."

Damon shook his head. "We need to get you to the hospital."

She closed her eyes. "I do not trust the hospital. Nor will I, until we know what is going on. It is too easy for deaths to... occur there."

He sighed. "Fine. How bad is it?"

"I told you-"

"How. Bad?" he ground out.

"Ziva," he warned.

"Fine. It is not good."

He could read between the lines. He picked up the phone and pressed two, then send.

"Gibbs."

"Gibbs, this is-"

"Since you don't have an accent and you don't seem to be female, I'm gonna say Worth. Where's Ziva?"

"She's in the passenger side and won't let me take her to the damn hospital. So if you could tell-"

"What do you mean, hospital?" Gibbs was not happy now.

"Someone found out who we were and took a shot. Ziva took the bullet meant for me."

There was silence for a moment, tense, and even though he couldn't see the man, Damon thought there were thoughts running through his head, memories.

"Bring her in, Worth. We'll meet you at the docking bay. Tell her no more heroics."

"Will do." Worth clicked the phone off and looked over to her. "Gibbs says to knock it off."

"I do not think... he said that." Her voice was quiet now, and Damon sped up automatically.

"Hang in there. We'll get to NCIS in two minutes. And yes he did. He specifically told me to tell you to knock it off," he jibed.

"Gibbs does not use that language."

She was too pale for his liking. Beneath the olive skin was a grey white tinge that scared him. "I'm sure he has. Can't you just see Gibbs letting loose some 60s slang?"

A corner of her lips curled up, but she didn't speak. He went to the gate and was about to show the man Ziva's ID when a call came through. Damon wanted to swear at the man that he couldn't wait when a buzzing sound rang, and the gate opened. He wasn't about to ask questions. Speeding through, he saw the team waiting and parked smoothly. He raced over and opened her door, gently picking her up and running as smoothly as possible to the docking slab.

"My god," Ducky said, as Damon laid her down on the metal gurney. He followed as she was wheeled away, for once feeling helpless and hating it.

"Corporal." He turned when he was met with the shutting metal door to autopsy.

"Worth. Dishonorably discharged, sir."

"Doesn't matter. She took the bullet?"

He nodded, head down. "She got quiet for a second, then jumped. I never saw it coming. I didn't even think!" he swung his fist and hit the wall, sending cracks spreading from the impact.

Gibbs said nothing while the younger man held his head in his hands. He'd been in that spot before. Only the woman saving him hadn't been so lucky. He understood the agony, the wondering what he could have done different.

So he waited.

"She yelled get down and tackled me like a damn lineman! She didn't yell or make a sound. Just jerked and fell." He scrubbed his eyes, looking haunted. "I can still feel it."

"She's alive, Corporal. That's the only thing that matters." Damon didn't say anything, just shook his head. "Come on. Let's get some caffeine into you."

Damon raised his head and shook it again. "Thank you, but-"

"Now, Corporal."

Damon knew an order when he heard it, and he almost snapped his heels together and said sir. He straightened and his look was level. "I can't."

"You won't."

Damon nodded his head. "No, sir, I won't. This is my fault that she's in there. I won't go and drink coffee when she's in there having a bullet that should have hit me be taken out."

Gibbs gave him a look that meant business. But wen he opened his mouth, it was not the blistering he expected. "Alright."

Damon felt shock, but didn't let it show. With a nod to Gibbs, he sat down on the bench and prepared to wait.

His wait was disturbed as clashing and thumping assailed his ears. Before him stood a goth with tall boots that brought her nearly as tall as him standing up.

"Is she in there? Is she okay? What happened?!" A hundred and forty some pounds of rubber, mini-skirt, tattoos and bondage collar turned and pinned him with ice-blue eyes. "You! You're that super-steroid-marine that tried to kill them! What are you doing here?"

"I'm here because she wouldn't let me take her to a hospital," he said wearily.

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you care? Aren't you drugged up or something?"

He shook his head. "No ma'am. And I do care, a great deal. She's there because of me."

"You shot her?!" she stepped threateningly towards him.

He lowered his head, unable to stand the guilt eating at him. "No. I should be the one in there. I should be the one with the bullet." He pulled his hair, wanting to redo the day and keep her from reaching him in time. "She saved me," he said raggedly.

Abby looked down at the man who looked so tortured and regretted that she'd spoken so quickly again. "She did the hero thing, didn't she?"

He raised his head and his eyes were so torn she bit her lip. He didn't even have to say anything. Abby caved and sat down beside him, gripping his huge hand. "She's Ziva. She'll be okay. And she probably wouldn't want you to be thinking it's your fault. So you better stop, or she'll kick your butt when she's better."

He choked a laugh and nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"And stop calling me ma'am."

"Yes sir."

She gave him an approving look. "I changed my mind. You're not a bad guy. You have permission to date her."

Damon was shocked out of his morbid thoughts. "Excuse me?"

Abby grinned. "I'm not blind, you know. The way you're acting, you have to like her. A lot."

Damon didn't know exactly how to answer that. "Well..."

"It's okay. I won't tell. She likes sunflowers, you know. Or tiger lilies."

His interest was sparked. "Flowers?"

Abby nodded. "But she won't tell anyone. But I've had both in my lab and she stared at them. I think she should have some when she wakes up, don't you think?"

He nodded. "I can't see why not."

He had no idea that he'd fallen into the Matchmaker Abby trap. "Excellent! I need to get my hourly CafPow. Come on."

Damon laughed, but looked down. "I don't believe I can go out in this." He gestured to the blood-covered clothes.

"Oh yeah. Don't worry. It's just in the court-thing. There's a kiosk that sells flowers not far from the cafe here, so you won't have to worry about people giving you weird looks. They're kind of used to it." She beamed a smile and pulled him along.

Gibbs watched as they walked out of the elevator towards the lobby, then came back not five minutes later with sunflowers and CafPow. He hid a smile behind his coffee. The kid had never stood a chance against Abs when she had something planned.

Or him, although he'd never acknowledge it.

After all, it was all just in a good day's work.