A/N This one didn't want to cooperate. I'm not really happy with it; but, I decided to post it anyway. It was inspired by real life incident involving one of my middle-aged friends who should have known better.
Disclaimer Don't own them. Not making any money from them.
Gibbs opened his front door and stood to the side to let Ziva enter. He watched her awkward progression into his living room. She hadn't quite mastered the use of crutches. And, her scrapped palms made using the crutches painful. His youngest agent stopped next to his couch.
Jethro helped her sit and then placed the crutches next to the sofa. He moved a pillow to the coffee table and helped her prop up her right foot. He winced when the movement caused her to suck in a sharp breath. He waited until Ziva leaned back into the cushions before he moved to the kitchen.
Jethro returned with an ice pack. He carefully placed it on her ankle and returned to the kitchen. He poured soup into a bowl and put it in the microwave. He poured a glass of milk and found a box of crackers. Once the soup was hot, everything went on a tray. He carried it to the living room.
"Ziva, you need to eat so you can take a pain pill." He watched as she opened one eye and looked up at him.
"I am really not hungry, Gibbs." She told him in a slightly whiny voice.
"No food, no pills, Ziva. The pharmacist said you have to take these with food." He waited patiently until she sat up straighter.
Jethro place the tray on her lap and moved the milk to the coffee table. He sat on sofa next to her and watched silently as she ate. He could see the lines of pain around her eyes. Each movement of her foot caused her to wince. The ER doctor who viewed the x-rays said the foot wasn't broken. It was just a very nasty sprained ankle. Gibbs knew from experience that those could hurt worse than an actual break.
Jethro periodically passed her the milk glass and despite her denials, Ziva polished off the food in a matter of minutes. Gibbs reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out the prescription bottle. He shook out a couple of the pills and handed them and the milk glass to Ziva. After she had taken the medication, he returned the dishes to the kitchen.
Her position on the couch didn't look particularly comfortable. Gibbs helped Ziva lay down on the couch. He retrieved more pillows and propped up her ankle.
Once she was comfortable, Jethro sat on the coffee table facing his injured agent. "You comfortable, Ziva?"
"Yes, Gibbs. Thank you." She responded quietly. He could see that the food and medication were already doing their jobs. It was time to confront her while she was relaxed and less likely to put up a fight.
"Then would you mind telling me what the hell you were thinking?" His voice had risen by the end of his question and there was no way Ziva could miss his irritation.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time, Gibbs." The younger woman tried to hold on to some of her tattered dignity.
"You're damned lucky it was only a sprain. You could have been seriously hurt. If that car had hit you, you could have been killed." The worry of the past few hours couldn't be contained.
She was properly contrite. "I know, Gibbs. And, I am sorry I caused you to worry about me."
Jethro wasn't so easily mollified. He ran his fingers through his silver hair. "I would expect something like this from DiNozzo. Not from you, Ziver." He paused and then repeated his earlier question, "What were you thinking?"
She took a deep breath, "I was watching the Davis children and I thought it looked like fun. I wanted to try it."
Jethro narrowed those vivid blue eyes and stared at the young woman. "I'm proud of you for trying new things, Ziver. And, I'm glad you're doing stuff just for the hell of it. But, did you have to try to ride a skateboard on a residential street?"
"I was not riding on the street. I was on the sidewalk, Gibbs." Even to her own ears she sounded like a little girl trying to defend a bad decision. Her defense of her actions was ruined when she had to admit, "I flew into the street when the skateboard hit a rock. The skateboard stopped. I did not."
Jethro rubbed a hand over his face and then quietly admitted, "You scared the hell out of me, Ziver."
Ziva looked up at her boss and could see how shaken he still was. "Gibbs, I am sorry."
He could see she was fast losing the battle to stay awake. Jethro leaned forward and pushed her hair away from her face. "Get some sleep, Ziva."
Her bottom lip trembled slightly, "Are you still mad at me?"
He tried not to smile. She was definitely under the influence of narcotics. DiNozzo got goofy when he was on drugs. Ziva got emotional.
Jethro tried to reassure her, "No, Ziva, I'm not mad at you. I was worried about you."
Ziva snuggled deeper into the sofa cushions and closed her eyes. "I do not wish to cause you to worry, Gibbs."
Jethro leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Get some sleep. Yell if you need anything. And, don't try to get up by yourself."
He was half way to the kitchen when he heard her whispered, "I love you too, Gibbs."
Jethro smiled faintly as he headed down the basement stairs. At his workbench he uncapped the bourbon and took a swig straight from the bottle. With Ziva injured and on drugs, he knew he couldn't indulge himself by getting drunk. He could, however, take the edge off of the leftover nerves.
Jethro leaned against the workbench and replayed the events of the afternoon over in his head. He had been in his back yard when he heard the screams from out front. He had rounded the house at dead run and been horrified to see Ziva lying in the road.
She had been unmoving and feet from the front bumper of a rather large sedan.
He hadn't realized at first what had happened. The Davis kids were the ones who had screamed. As Jethro dropped to the asphalt next to his agent, both of the boys were talking, trying to tell him what had happened. The older man in the car was on his cell phone calling 911.
Fortunately, Ziva had only had the wind knocked out of her. By the time the ambulance arrived, she was sitting up talking to Jethro. Mrs. Davis had come outside and collected her sons. The elderly gentleman had waited to leave until Ziva was loaded in the ambulance. She had of course put up a fuss about going to the hospital. Jethro had overridden her objections and insisted she go to the ER to be checked out.
He had followed the ambulance in his own car. Three hours spent in the ER waiting on the x-rays and a visit from the doctor had passed with excruciating slowness. Through it all, Jethro had managed to hold on to his composure by the thinnest of threads.
The cap went back on the bourbon and the bottle went back on a shelf over the workbench. At the same time, Jethro heard a thud and a muffled "Owww" from overhead.
As he jogged up the stairs, he shook his head. It was going to be a long few weeks until she could take care of herself again. As Jethro helped his very out-of-it agent off of the floor, he wondered if Ziva was too old to be grounded.