A/n: Trying something different here: third person limited with authorial invasions into the narrator's brain. All parenthesized italics represent Ziva's thoughts in the moment (damn Sheep). Let me know if it's annoying (yes). It reads fine if you just want to ignore them (please do).

Palmer and Lee (it was cute how they'd pretended not to have come together) had been gone for half an hour. Ziva fiddled with the controls on her hospital bed, seeing how far she could sit up before (oh, too far) it hurt. She leaned the head of the bed back slightly and checked the plastic guardrail. The hash mark she'd lightly gouged into it yesterday was invisible; at least she was sitting a little straighter today. She had to laugh at herself (not out loud, not out loud…ow) for the odd practice, but she couldn't realistically set any of her normal goals. 'Run x number of miles' took a backseat to 'eat all the pureed food placed on your tray' at the moment. Hell, she couldn't even get out of bed yet.

She abandoned the bed controls and flipped through the TV channels again. Still nothing on (programs don't change every ten minutes) besides the news. She'd watched enough ZNN the previous day; Zangent Research Labs had folded like a deck of cards (was that right?) when NCIS had started asking questions. The company's lawyers had spent most of the press conference trying to undo the damage the CFO had done with his statement regarding payments made to Brian Evans. McGee had stopped by later that day to tell her how Gibbs had made every last interviewee cry. He'd been exaggerating, but they'd still had a good laugh (ow) over it.

"Looks like I caught you between visitors!" Turtleneck (Julia. Nicknames just helped relieve the boredom) entered the room with a huge bouquet of flowers in a plastic water pitcher. "Haven't touched your lunch yet, I see."

Ziva glanced at the tray of mush (Pink Stethoscope had been so proud she'd managed to get a pork chop pureed.) and frowned. "Guess I just wasn't hungry. Are those for me?"

"Of course. Do you think I'd tease you with someone else's flowers? Not that I think it would make you feel bad at this point." They both glanced around the room. Everyone who had visited had felt compelled to bring something, turning the room into a mini gift shop, although the black roses (Abby) seemed a bit out of place. (The combat knife Gibbs had brought was under the pillow.) "I can hardly believe you know someone who hasn't sent something." (Two people.)

"Is there a card?"

"No, a friend of yours dropped them off." (Directors of intelligence agencies didn't send flowers. Not even to their daughters. Tony?) She moved the peace lily plant Cynthia (another name on the list of totally unexpected visitors) had brought and placed the pitcher on the nightstand next to the bed. "I didn't catch his name. He was tall (Tony), with light brown hair (Tony) and really pretty blue eyes (Tony). He came to the nurses' station and asked about how you were doing, then he went down the hall, but came back after just a few minutes. He asked us to give the flowers to someone who could use them. I figured since they were for you, you could use them most." She stopped arranging the bouquet. "One of the other nurses said he was here yesterday too. Is he your ex-boyfriend or something?"

(Something) She picked at the cloth tape securing one of her IV tubes to her skin. "He's my partner."

"Oh," Turtleneck stepped back to admire the flowers. She continued in a conversational tone, "So he was there when you were injured?"

"Yes. He (clearly didn't want to visit)…he carried me, up the stairs and out to the ambulance. That was the last time I saw him."

"He seemed, I don't know, conflicted? I think he really wanted to see you, but something was holding him back." Turtleneck made some notes on her chart and smiled at Ziva. "I'm sure he'll be back." (But will he come in?)

Another cycle of bed adjustments (too far) and TV channels later, a knock sounded on the metal frame of the door (Tony?). McGee's head (oh) peeked around the corner. "Busy?" He produced a pint container from a paper bag.

"Is that Kahlua ice cream from Gifford's?" (Oh!)

"I figured you'd probably had enough Jell-O already today."

She grabbed the spoon off her tray table and ripped the lid off the pint. The first bite of ice cream melted slowly in her mouth. "Oh, McGee, I am never gluing you to anything ever again." (It won't be any fun without a co-conspirator.)

He sat in the chair next to her bed and took the spare spoon she offered him. They spent a few minutes enjoying the ice cream. McGee turned to grab a napkin of the nightstand and (finally) noticed the new flowers. "Wow. That's so big it could be a roommate. Where'd it come from?"

"Tony. Apparently."

"What, you think he stole them from someone in the parking lot or something?" He laughed. (He's been very upbeat every time he's come. It's nice he's making a special effort.)

She found it hard to smile in response. "I mean he left them with the nurses. He never came in."

"Maybe a doctor was here and he didn't want to interrupt."

"I think he came when Jimmy and Michelle were here."

"Maybe he didn't want to bring you a big bouquet of flowers while they were here. You never know what kind of rumors could get started." (McGee got credit for trying.)

"I haven't seen him."

"I'm sure he'll be back tomorrow."

"McGee, he hasn't been here at all."

"But that doesn't make any sense. I bumped into him coming in when I was leaving two days ago. And he was late yesterday because he got stuck in traffic on the way from here."

"Then why haven't I seen him?"

"I…(don't you dare make excuses for him) think he's…(being an ass?)…um, scared."

(Did the pain meds just kick in?) "McGee, Agent Lee is scared of me. You're scared of me. Tony is not scared of me."

"Hey, I'm not scared of you (liar). And I didn't mean he's scared of you. I think he thinks you're going to blame him."

"For what?"

"Um, getting shot?"

(That's the dumbest excuse ever.) "We were ambushed. Neither of us saw it coming."

"Yeah, but you're the one who got shot and he thinks it's his fault. Ziva, he's been acting strange the past few days. I know he's been worried about you. I thought it would get better once you started recovering, but it hasn't. If he hasn't really been visiting you…look, he wouldn't even talk to me for a while because he thought I would blame him for you being (get to the point, McGee)…this whole thing has really brought back a lot of…"

(Ah.) "Agent Todd."

He stuck his spoon in the ice cream and left it there. "Yeah."

They sat in silence for a moment. "Tell him I want him here, McGee."

"You could just call him, you know."

"I've tried. He doesn't pick up. Can you get me a pen and a piece of paper?" She scribbled a quick note and folded it. "Would you give this to him when you see him?"

"And if this doesn't work?"

"Cuff him to his chair and drag him here."

McGee laughed. "I'll tell him you loaned me your secret Moussad cuffs."

(ow)