I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, especially Damon Werth. I wish I owned him, but sadly I dont. Very sadly. I also don't own the show Top Shot. First NCIS fic so please read and review. It would be appreciated. Thank you earanemith fr your story alert, review and encouraging words. Also thank you to NCIS Connection and FreshPrinceofBally for your story alerts.
He looked up through the haze of pain and adrenaline at the woman on top of him. She looked somewhat familiar, but he wasn't about to spend much time thinking about it, considering she had a gun pointed at his head. He heard her whsper his name before lowering her gun. He took this as an opening to grab her wrist, successfuly disarming her, and throwing her of balance. He twisted his body around, his ribs screaming in agony, and was able to pin her beneath him. One of his hands was large enough to capture both of her wrists, which he pinned above her head. It amazed him that whoever was trying to kill him would send such a delicate woman after him, but that wasn't going to stop him from killing her if he needed too. With his other hand, he pointed her own gun straight at her. Then he saw her eyes. She had a look that he himself had worn once upon a time. The Thousand Mile Stare. The look of sheer terror. It spoke volumes to him. He slowly lowered the gun and laid it on the bed a few feet from him. Close enough for him to reach, but not her. He took his free hand and brushed the side of her throat gently. Her pulse was beating rapidly. Like the wings of a bird beating its wings against the bars of its cage. It was then that he knew that he was frightening her. Damon slowly maneuvered his body so that he wasnt lying directly on top of her. This seemed to calm her down a bit. He watched as the pink tip of her tongue snaked out and moistened her pinker lips.
"Damon, please. Its Ziva. Let go of me so I can help you."
He frowned. He remembered Ziva. The woman who, no matter what, semmed tobelieved in him. Even when he didn'y believe in himself. Damon blinked a few times. Slowly the familiar figure focused. Her eyes were no longer filled with fear. It had changed to...concern, and dare he hope, love? "Im sorry Ziva." He said softly, "I came here for help and I end up assaulting you, again." She sat up, rubbing her wrists. The former marine winced as he saw the blssoming purple bruises already starting to form. He shook his head, disgusted at himself. It seemed no matter what, he ended up hurting her. Maybe his family were right. He shouldn't be around civilized people. Damon broke free from this line of thought when Ziva knelt down in front of him.
"Come on Damon." she said sofly. "I need to take a look at your ribs."
His face was filled with shock. She still wanted to help him? Even after what he did? It took him a moment to get his head on straight and focus. The lack of sleep, combined with his body coming down from an adrenaline high, was making it difficult.
Ziva took his hand and stood up very slowly, not wanting to spook him again. He stood as well and followed her into her bathroom. As he was 7 inches taller than she, Ziva had to drop to her knees in order to take a look at his wound. She picked up the discarded washcloth, and soaked it in some cool water before dabbing it against his side. He hissed slightly at the contact but that was it. It took a few minutes for the bleeding to finally slow enough for her to take a good look at it. "What the hell happened Damon? It looks like you got shot!" His lips twitched slightly at this. "Thats because I did Ziva. I got shot."
She loked up at him, wondering if he was being a typical sarcastic american. The look on his face said that he was being deadly serious with her. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. "Then could you please explain to me, why you got shot and how you broke into my apartment?" He winced at the tone of her voice. She was mad. REAL mad.
"Well, I just got a job here in town. I was finished moving all my stuff and was planning on getting a shower before coming by to visit, to let you know that I was in town. As I was leaving my place, the sun was just starting to set. Thats when I caught a flash of light out of the corner of my eye. I didn't think, I just reacted. Next thing I know, It felt like my side was on fire. I knew from experience, that I had been shot. I did the only thing that I could think of. Hauled ass here."
She nodded her head slightly. "Your lucky. The bullet only grazed you. It will hurt, alot, but you'll heal."
He nodded slightly. He was angry. At himself most of all. He was a trained soldier, and here he was, running away from danger instead of towards it. Ziva could sense his conflicted emotions. She could understand his frustration. She would no doubt feel the same way if she were in his socks.
When she was finished bandaging up his side, she took a moment to look up at him. His gaze was fixed and determined. More importantly, he wasn't paying attention to her. With an impish smile, she gave in to temptation and gave him a long hard look up and down. Whatever he was doing, she hoped he kept it up. It was working. His body was lean and hard. With pefectly chiseled muscles. She pushed her lustful thoughts away. What was she thinking? No guy wants a girlfriend who can kick his ass. Tony said so. Not that she should really listen to him, but he had been in enough relationships to be considered an expert, right? With a regretful sigh, she snapped her fingers a couple of times. He looked down with a look of surprise on his face, as if he had forgotten she was there. Without thinking, he reached down and took her hand to help her up.
She came up to quickly, was momentarily thrown off balance, and practically fell in his arms. Blushind a vivid shade of scarlet, she pullled away and busily started washing her hands. When she was done, she turned to find him inches away. She gasped slightly. He smirked at her, looking pleased at having startled her and like he knew what she had been thinking the moment previous. "So. What do we do now?" She shrugged slighty. "Well, you can't go back home. Stay here tonight, and we will go to NCIS headquarters in the morning."
He shook his head slightly."Are you sure Gibbs will be willing to help me ? Your friend McGee is scared of me, and Tony, Im pretty sure he hates me." This caused her to laugh. "He dosnt hate you, He's jealous of you." This made him laugh as well. "Besides, whats the worst that can happen?" His face grew serious. "Gibbs could refuse and I could die." Ziva shook her head. "Not happening. If Gibbs says no, Ill take some vacation time and help you." He smiled again, causing Ziva's heart to flutter. "How can a man refuse that?"
With plans made, the pair curled up together on the sofa. Him on one end while she sat on the other. Halfway through "Top Shot" on the history channel, he glanced over and noticed that she had fallen asleep with her head resting on the armrest. Knowing that she would wake with horrible neck pain, he scooped her up gently, and carried her to her bed. She had changed into her pajamas earlier so all he had to do was tuck her in. He also took her gun from where it had been discarded by him earlier and placed it on the nightstand next the the bed. Damon then took a quick look around and focused on her bedspread which was covered with rust colored blood stains. His blood. Without a second thought, he tugged it off the bed and replaced it with a thick quilt. He quietly carried it out, closing her door behind him.
