Chapter Four: Reassurances

Silently, Tony and Ziva made their way back up to the bullpen. For once, the square of desks were not filled with the sound of jokes and their accompanying laughter; the partners said not a word to each other as they cleared their desks mechanically, storing papers, folders, and personal items in the large cardboard boxes they had each picked up from a storeroom on their way back from Autopsy.

Finally, there was nothing left to do. No more packing to occupy their time, nothing left to prolong their inevitable departure from the building they'd spent so much of their time in during the past few years.

Looking around, Tony sighed. "I guess that's it then."

"Yes," Ziva said simply, also glancing around at everything, imprinting the image of the squad room in her mind. She knew that, at Mossad, such sentimentality would be scoffed at—people got transferred all the time—but she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away. Blinking hard, she remembered the words that Jenny had once spoken to her. Four words, long forgotten and, at the time, meaningless: 'This is not Mossad.'

"Hey," Tony whispered, interrupting his former partner's thoughts, "You wanna come over to my place, maybe watch a movie or something."

Ziva searched his face and saw no teasing, no flirting, no lewd thoughts flashing through his mind and being projected through his eyes. He really did just want to watch a movie and hang out with a friend before he had to leave. His whole body was racked with a sense of despair and loneliness. Ziva cringed inside. She hated seeing him like this, but it wouldn't help either of them to start getting too close now.

"I am sorry Tony," she said firmly, "but I really must get home and pack."

"Everything?" he asked disbelievingly.

"No, I am only taking a few weeks worth of clothing and such, but I need to get everything boxed and labeled. I will probably have Abby send the rest of my things over when I get an apartment in Tel Aviv."

"Oh." Tony visibly slumped. "Yeah, right."

Ziva didn't answer him, as she suddenly found it painful to swallow. Stacking her two large boxes full of office supplies on top of one another, she carefully lifted them into her arms and moved toward the elevator. Tony did the same, following behind her, balancing his boxes precariously on his knee for a moment to press the button that would take them to the parking area so she wouldn't have to. Ziva smiled slightly at this rare display of gentlemanly behavior from her partner.

The ride down was made in companionable silence; there was no need for either of them to say anything. As the doors dinged open, however, they turned toward each other and both opened their mouths at the same time.

"I—"

"Well—"

They both laughed.

"You first," Tony said with a nod of his head.

"Oh, I was just going to say goodbye," Ziva said, all traces of laughter leaving her face.

"Yeah, me too," Tony admitted.

Both hesitated in the doorway, goodbyes over, but not yet willing to leave.

"Tony," Ziva began hesitantly. She stopped and swallowed. "I will miss you."

"Same here," Tony said softly, smiling wryly. Slowly, he set his boxes down, waiting until Ziva had done the same before pulling her into a hug.

"This is sad," Tony mumbled into her hair, "I've spent so many hours imagining what I would say if this moment ever came, and now that I'm finally able to hug you without you threatening to kill, maim, or otherwise injure certain parts of my anatomy, I got nothing."

Ziva giggled and stepped back, her arms still around the man grinning in front of her.

"Tony," she teased, "Surely you have seen this movie before?"

"Yeah," Tony said sadly, shaking his head comically. "Guy in the movie couldn't figure out what to say either."

Ziva laughed even harder, making a snorting sound with her nose.

"Hey," Tony said, taking in her flushed face and crinkled eyes, "You're kinda cute when you laugh."

Her only response was to hit him in the arm playfully and reach down for her boxes. Tony did the same and, still laughing, the former partners headed their separate ways.

oOo

"Abby," McGee sighed, standing up and stretching his aching back, "I helped you finish the forensics for all the cases you've got and then we played every single violent, oppressive Internet game you can think of. It's almost ten already. Can we please leave now?"

"No, McGee!" Abby insisted fiercely, stubbornly setting her jaw and lifting her chin into the air.

"Why not Abbs?" questioned McGee wearily.

"Because Timmy, I just can't."

"Whad'ya mean you can't?" Seeing her turning away from him, McGee sighed again and sat back down in the chair he'd just vacated. "C'mon Abbs. Talk to me."

Abby's jaw trembled as she spoke. "Because McGee, if I leave, it'll be, like, for real."

"What'll be for real?"

"You guys leaving me." The usually bubbly forensic scientist's voice cracked at the end of the sentence and tears pooled in her eyes. Sitting in her spinny chair with her oversized lab coat and black dress, her dark hair in pigtails, she looked very much like a lost little girl.

"Abby," McGee said gently, scooting closer to her and tilting her face towards him with his hand, "I promise you that I will come visit you at least once every day."

"Every day?" Abby's eyes brightened and her head lifted. "But, wait, aren't you across the Navy Yard? That'd be, like, way out of your way."

"Well, there isn't much to do in Cyber Crimes," McGee shrugged. "I could make time. And I'll bring Caf-Pow, too," he added before Abby could ask.

She giggled and spun in her chair, clapping her hands. McGee smiled and watched her, happy simply because she so obviously was.

Suddenly she stopped and jumped up, leaping on him and pulling him into a tight hug.

"I love you Timmy," she said into his ear. Startled, he pulled back. As soon as she realized what she'd said, Abby's face began to turn red and she started stammering.

"Well, I mean, you know that I don't love you love you—it's more like a-a something…something…you get what I mean!"

"Yeah Abbs," McGee grinned. "Love ya too."

Yawning, he stood up once more and headed for the closet where Abby kept miscellaneous things, a.k.a. random junk she didn't want to throw out. After digging around for a few moments while a surprised Abby looked on in confusion, McGee finally found what he was looking for. Brandishing the large sleeping bag triumphantly, he moved back to stand in front of Abby and smiled down into her shocked face.

"You'd…you'd do that for me McGee?" Abby's lip quivered and gratitude shone in her eyes.

"Sure Abbs. Anything."

She smiled at him and he momentarily lost control of his thinking skills. Shaking his head a bit to bring him back to the present, he cleared his throat.

"So, um, I'll just get this set up for you and grab a few blankets for me and—"

He was cut off by the sound of Abby's laughter.

"C'mon Tim," she said, shaking her head, "We're both adults. I think we can handle sharing the bag. Besides, I really don't feel like sleeping alone tonight."

At seeing his wide-eyed expression, she started giggling again.

"I didn't mean that McGee."

"Yeah, I know," he breezed unconvincingly.

She rolled her eyes and, smiling slightly, grabbed one end of the sleeping bag. After the bag was spread out, covering a sufficient amount of the floor, Abby sat down on it and took off her lab coat and shoes. Rolling the coat into a ball, the propped it on the end of the bag to use as a pillow and burrowed in. McGee quickly kicked off his black dress shoes and joined her.

The minute he'd wriggled his way in beside Abby, she scooted closer to him and buried her face in his chest. Kissing the top of her head and putting both arms around her, he tried to reassure her the best he could.

"It's gonna be all right Abbs. You'll see. Gibbs will do something. They'll be back. We all will."

The woman in his arms made a mumbling noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob, but McGee didn't comment on it. As Abby drifted off to sleep, however, her body pressed as close to him as possible, tear tracks still visible on her face, he began to wonder if things would ever be right again.