A/N: Let's talk about how much I suck for a second. It's been 3 weeks you guys, and I am so sorry. I don't even have a good excuse. I mean, I have plenty of excuses about being a grown up getting in the way of my writing time, but not one of them is a good excuse. I'm sorry for the wait, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I promise you won't have to wait as long for the next one.

He felt her freeze and they fell into silence.

He had never felt her shut down so quickly. He cursed himself for bringing it up so unceremoniously, but if they were going to die in this elevator, the least he could do was cross off #19. It was a surprisingly short time when Ziva spoke again.

"I believe that is three questions in a row. Now I get three as well," she said tersely.

"Can you please just answer the question?"

"Pass."

"No, not on this one."

"If you were not going to let me pass on questions, you should not have given me a pass."

"I know, but I'm not letting you walk away from this conversation. We never talked about it. It happened, and we shoved it under the rug and never breached the subject again."

"What do you want me to say? Yes, it was fine?"

"No, I want you to tell me what you really think."

"Fine. I regret what happened in Paris very much." She could feel him deflate as soon as she said the words, but he asked for honesty, and she was going to give it to him.

"You do?"

"Yes. I regret the fact that you had to witness what I considered my greatest failing since I arrived home. I regret the fact that after nearly six months home I had to drag us back into that misery once again, and I regret that the only reason that I felt comfortable enough around you to share a bed was because you had to scare away the nightmares." Her voice softened significantly "I do not regret waking up in your arms, Tony. I regret the circumstances in which it had to happen."

It was like a weight had been lifted off his chest. He was glad she didn't regret their close proximity for the duration of the trip, their intimacy. They had spent two nights in the hotel together, the first Ziva suffered from a terrible nightmare, one that left her in a cold sweat and shaking like a leaf. Tony rushed into the room, enveloping her in a hug and laying down with her without a word. Granted there was some resistance on Ziva's part, but once she realized his intentions were genuine he held her until her tears and shivers finally ceased. The next day was spent sightseeing and cautiously flirting, getting back to who they were before the summer that changed their lives. That night they crawled into bed together and woke with Ziva's head resting on Tony's chest.

"I thought you hated me there for a while when we got back."

"Of course not. I could never hate you after all you have done for me. I was afraid of how easy it was with you. How...safe...I felt. It was the first time I had felt that way since I arrived home, and I did not know what to do. I enjoyed the time we spent together, I just wish it wasn't prompted by my weaknesses. I am sorry I pushed you away."

"Not the first time." he said quietly.

"No. It was not."

Tony only took a tense breath in response.

"Is there something you would like to say, Tony?"

"It's more of a question than a comment."

"That is alright."

"No, I've asked a bunch. It's your turn."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll just wait my turn."

"Why did you stop playing piano?" she asked curiously.

He let out a sigh before answering. "I stopped when my mom died. I used to play for her all the time. She was the one who started me playing when I was really little, and she used to play with me. I remember when she was getting sicker and sicker, nothing would make her smile. There was nothing in the world that made her happy, except when I played. I know now that she was depressed, drinking all the time and there was nothing I could really do to make it better, but when I was a kid I just thought that my music could be her medicine. As she got worse and worse I played more and more. But when she died, it just felt useless. There was no reason for me to play any more. So I stopped."

"I am so sorry."

"It's in the past now. Just part of who I am," he paused before moving on to his next question. "Why did you call Gibbs instead of me when you were in trouble?"

She could tell this question had been eating away at him for some time. She had hurt him greatly by surpassing him for protection.

"It had nothing to do with you. No, that is a lie, it had everything to do with you, just not you as our team leader. I have a lot of enemies, Tony. When they come to find me not one of them wants to talk. I did not know what their intentions were, nor did I know who might be after me. I did know, however that you could have lost your job by just communicating with me, let alone conspiring. I could not let you do that."

"Is that the same reason we stopped seeing each other when Gibbs got back? You didn't want to put me at risk?"

She was unsurprised at his question. She had ended their social relationship very abruptly when Gibbs came back to NCIS.

"Almost. My father was having me watched. If there is one person he did not want me seeing, it was you. My father is a powerful man, he could have had you injured or recalled me back to Israel at any time. I did not want to risk never seeing you again. And I thought if we stopped seeing each other outside of work, it would stop us from developing feelings for one another," her voice quieted greatly, "I did not know how much I already cared for you until you were seeing Jeanne."

Jeanne was another part of their lives that Tony would be comfortable never discussing again. He breathed out "yeah." in return. They allowed the subject to drop, the atmosphere in the elevator oppressively heavy.

Ziva tried to move her position in the silence, adjusting her head and neck. She groaned in pain.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked.

"This position is not the best for my neck." she replied, groaning once again.

"Here." he said "Try to keep your head up for just a little bit." He adjusted himself so he was sitting with his back to against the wall of the elevator, legs stretched out in front of him. He placed Ziva's head in his lap, head facing his feet.

"How is that?" he asked gently.

"Better now that I have a bit of cushion."

"Good. I'm glad." They settled into comfortable silence, their breathing finally steady, Tony's fingers stroking Ziva's hair. They were finally calm, and all there was to do was wait.

Gibbs sat with McGee until the paramedics arrived, which felt like an excruciatingly long time as he just looked at McGee. His face was covered in tiny cuts from the glass, some shards still embedded in his cheeks and neck. He was laying in the middle of the bullpen, and Gibbs couldn't help but wonder if that was where he was actually standing when the explosion occurred, or if he was blown back by the force of the blast. He hoped it was the former. Tim had a much better chance if he was even a few feet further away from the blast.

The paramedics swooped in, quickly back boarding and stabilizing him with a cervical collar. They were barking questions at Gibbs. Name, age, weight, allergies, it was all a blur. Gibbs made sure to answer every question to the best of his ability. The thought occurred to him then that he had no idea who McGee's emergency contact was, or who his medical proxy might be. He had a sinking feeling that not just McGee, but Tony and Ziva as well had named either he or Ducky their medical proxies, and with Ducky still in Florida...he didn't want to think about the responsibility that was about to be thrust upon him.

As the EMT's took McGee away, one of them turned and yelled to Gibbs,

"Sir, are you coming with him?"

"No," he said, "I have more people to find here. There is a woman at Bethesda that should have been treated by now, Abigail Sciuto. She will stay with him."

"Yes, sir." They whisked McGee away. As the door to the stairwell slammed shut behind them, Gibbs said a silent apology, not only for not staying with him, but for letting any of this happen in the first place. With still no time to dwell, he quickly turned away, beginning the search for wherever the hell Tony and Ziva had gotten to.

He moved quickly throughout the area of the building that he thought they would have been clearing before the explosion; restrooms, break room, several conference rooms, interrogation, all empty, all doors opened. Clearly they had done their jobs and gotten nearly everyone out of the building. He was at least thankful for that. There were only three known casualties thus far, but there were still many areas to check, one being the main entrance.

He knew he may be getting himself into a situation as he took the south stairwell down to the main entrance. He found another agent lying in the stairwell, a woman he didn't recognize. As he brought his fingers to her jugular, he couldn't help but wonder how removed he had become from the rest of the agency. There was a time he knew the name of every employee in the building, but now there were more nameless faces than he would care to admit. The pulse he felt beneath his fingers was stronger than he'd expected. He surmised there would be a fair amount of head injuries at Bethesda tonight.

He gave another call to Fornell, reporting her location, and letting the team know he was heading for the main entrance.

As he drew closer to the main doors, the number of injured agents grew exponentially. Some were still unconscious, others stirring and the most coherent were attempting to fix themselves up the best they could before help arrived. Each agent nodded to Gibbs as he went by, but no words were spoken. There were none needed.

As soon as he could see the light of the day shining through the glass doors, he knew where most of the casualties would lie. Shrapnel, glass and debris lay all over the ground, and even more was embedded into a number of people. Five in all. Two security guards, two agents and another man he didn't recognize. Was he a witness? A suspect? He pressed his lips together in frustration. Goddamnit wasn't fair. He knew life was cruel, but there were some times that fact just came around and punched you in the gut. This was one of the more poignant times.

The radio crackled to life a moment later.

"Base to Gibbs."

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"Building has been cleared. We're sending in teams now."

"10-4. Awaitng arrival at main entrance."

"Copy."

As he waited for the search crews, he took a better look around. He noted that there was no sign of Tony and Ziva amongst any of the injured in the hall, nor the dead in the lobby. It felt like a small, silent victory amongst the immense tragedy. It pained him to feel relief when he was surrounded by so much suffering and loss.

The paramedics began flooding in through the main doors not even two minutes later, rushing to remove the conscious and assess those who were less fortunate.

"Don't move any of the bodies," he demanded gruffly, "Our medical examiner wouldn't want any of the bodies moved." The paramedics nodded as they carefully checked for any signs of life. As soon as the scene was under control, Gibbs headed back up to the one place he still knew he could think semi-straight. His desk.

He arrived at his mostly destroyed destination with a heavy heart. He planted himself in the middle of the bullpen, where his team normally stood.

He couldn't think of anywhere else to look. He stood firmly and in desperation called Fornell over the radio.

"Fornell, any sign of DiNozzo and David?"

"Nothing yet." he replied. He knew it was a long shot. It was then as he rolled his eyes at his own stupid hopes, when one of the paramedics tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, I know this is a stupid question, but has anyone checked in there?" he asked, pointing to the elevator.

The elevator. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment. If they got themselves stuck in the damn elevator I will slap them into next week.

"No." he replied.

'I know it sounds strange, but a lot of people take elevators in evacuations. They fall back into their normal routines, but they end up stuck."

"You don't say."

He walked up to the doors quickly and with a small grunt of frustration pounded out three quick, resounding blows.

"What do you mean something happened?" Jimmy asked, slightly alarmed.

"Before my event, I received a call from Director Vance. Harper Dearing has struck again. He planted a bomb in the Director's car, which due to security protocols was parked directly in front of the NCIS building."

"Oh god. He blew up NCIS?"

"Yes. I do not know the extent of the physical damage."

"Did everyone make it out alright?"

"I am afraid not."

"How many?"

"Thirteen as far as we know."

"Oh my god." Jimmy collapsed into a chair, head in his hands.

"I know this is overwhelming, Mr. Palmer, but I am afraid I am about to ask too much of you."

"What is it?"

"I need you to act as primary medical examiner at the scene until I recuperate."

"I...I'm not sure that I can, doctor."

"Are you questioning your ability as an examiner or your emotional control?"

"Both, I think."

"I assure you, Jimmy, you should concern yourself with neither. I have worked with you for nearly ten years, and I am certain you will conduct yourself admirably."

"Thank you, Dr. Mallard."

"There are no thanks needed. I speak only the truth."

"I'm assuming I have to leave soon."

"Tonight would be preferable."

Jimmy nodded. "I'll have to tell Breena."

"How is your blushing bride?"

"Very concerned about you, but she's with her family. They were going to stay a little longer before going back to DC, but now I'm not sure. Should I have her come home with me so she'll be close and I can keep her safe, or would she be safer if she stayed here...?"

"I would suggest discussing your concerns with her before making a decision."

"I always do," he said with a small smile.

"I do believe you two will be just fine, despite the somewhat unconventional beginning to your marriage."

"Thanks. I do too. Are you sure you don't need me to stay here with you?"

"Yes, I am sure. You have much more pressing matters to attend to now."

"I'll see what I can do about getting you transported back to DC as soon as possible. I'm sure Agent Gibbs wouldn't want you down here all by yourself."

"That will be unnecessary. I will make arrangements for myself."

Jimmy nodded. "I'm glad you're okay," he said, reaching out for Ducky's hand.

"As am I, dear boy." Jimmy gave Ducky one last smile before leaving him alone once again.

Ducky dropped his head back onto his pillows, silently praying that everything would be okay.