A/N Reviews are very encouraging. Thanks to all who took the time to write them. This one is dedicated to Scotland.

Chapter 16

Steeping

(Ziva's POV)

The three of us walk into autopsy, where Ducky has just slid a body into a compartment and latched the door. I try not to think of who is inside. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

"Ah, Ziva, it is so nice to see you are recovering. How are you feeling, My Dear?" He gently takes my hand, kisses it and leads me in further.

"Much better Ducky, thank you."

"Jethro, would you and Anthony excuse us? I have a particular pot of tea steeping and I believe that Ziva is the only one who could fully appreciate it. I have a brother who defected to England years ago and he has sought mother's forgiveness for it by sending us parcels from Betty's Tea Room in Harrogate ever since. As much as I prefer Scottish blends, I have to admit to taking tea at Betty's a time or two while breaking my journey from Scotland to London. I only regret that I do not have proper scones to serve with it. I never understood why American scones are triangular and so dry . . ."

Gibbs and Tony leave part way through the explanation, thankful that they do not need to stay for a chat about tea. I appreciate the normalcy of Ducky's ramblings and the fact that our discussion has nothing to do with torture. I start to relax for the first time since I left my apartment.

"But Ducky, you and your mother are living in America. Is that not considered treasonous as well?"

"Heavens no! Until America unjustly invades Scotland and oppresses her for years on end, it will remain neutral ground."

"I am glad to hear it since I will soon be an American and I would hate for that to come between us." I give my dear friend a genuine smile.

"Even if you had invaded Scotland during your military days, I would never hold it against you. You are too precious to me to consider turning you out for any reason."

He returns my smile but I break eye contact and shift uncomfortably in my seat when he calls me "precious." Honestly? I am much more accustom to being praised for being accurate, detached, hot and even lethal, but I do not recall ever being called "precious." It does not sit well.

He finishes pouring the tea and thankfully returns to chatting. He is lamenting the idiotic concoction of iced tea and the regrettable American habit of serving a cup of tea with the bag in it rather than steeping it properly in a pot then pouring it.

After we sit in silence with our tea he then starts "checking me out" as I believe Gibbs called it.

"Ziva, I did not hope to see you anywhere but home for a few days. I tended to you while you were unconscious, and you suffered no light swoon, My Dear."

"Thank you, Ducky, for looking after me. Tony did fill in the spaces for me and I appreciate what everyone has done for me. I have never had a panic attack before and I promise you that I do not intend to go through it again."

Ducky is giving me that soft grandfatherly look and I focus on my teacup to escape the unwarranted affection his eyes convey.

"Were you able to talk to Anthony or did he choose to medicate you with an overdose of pizza and films?"

"Tony has been very supportive. Thank you for letting me stay at home with him rather than sending me to a hospital."

"Yes, well, I am wondering if it was a wise decision since you chose to come into work today. Just between us, I do not believe Anthony could ever refuse any request of yours. If you were elsewhere, returning to work so soon would not have been an option. I can tell that Jethro does not think this is a good idea and is hoping that I will send you home on medical grounds. His position is clear so it is now up to you to convince me that it is in your best interest to stay."

"Ducky, I admit that since my return I have felt anxious at crime scenes that are in dark, enclosed spaces. I have not wanted to appear weak and so I have kept that and other details to myself. I am guessing that you are familiar with all the methods of torture used on me in Somalia, yes? " I took a long sip of tea to cover my discomfort.

His eyes start watering and he says, "Yes, sadly, My Dear, I am."

I put my cup down and speak very carefully. "Until yesterday I had not told anyone any details of my captivity since being debriefed in the hospital in Africa. I did not see the need to talk about any of it since the others were in the camp and could fill in the spaces for themselves. No one asked me, and I was not willing to bring it up. I hoped that eventually I would not think about that period of my life anymore, and it would just . . .blow over?" Ducky nods at my correct use of the phrase. "Blocking out mission failures and torture has always worked before but I did not realize how ineffective it has been recently. I believe this culture and a distance from Mossad have affected me, and I need to adjust the way I handle stressful situations."

"That is a very astute analysis, but you still have not convinced me that you need to return to work today."

"Ducky, I talked to Tony, I told him everything, and I am truly feeling much better. I can assure you that he is not going to let me out of his sight for long. As far as why I want to be here today, I need to be able to catch the killer for this case. You can call it revenge or catharsis, but I have to help her." I nod towards where I know her body is resting.

"Well, you do give a convincing argument. Would you permit me to get your blood pressure and do a cursory medical exam?"

"Of course, Ducky."

Aside from elevated blood pressure attributable to stress, I pass medical inspection. Ducky offers me his hand and helps me stand. As we walk towards the sliding glass doors he pauses, steps in front of me and puts his hand on my shoulder. "You need to take care of yourself, Ziva." He points his finger at me accusingly and playfully continues, "I have my spies and I will hear if you are not pacing yourself sensibly. Unlike Agent DiNozzo, I will not hesitate to deny your request despite how many times you flutter your eyelashes."

"I promise to behave. Thank you for the tea and the company." I kiss his cheek before we resume our walk.

I see Tony and Gibbs, both with arms crossed, leaning against the wall. They respectfully stood out of my line of sight in autopsy, but were ready to escort me once I was finished. They both snap to attention at the sound of the door. Ducky talks first, "Jethro, may I speak with you for a moment?" He nods, walks past and gives away nothing of what is going through his mind. I take his place against the wall. lean my head back and close my eyes, resting myself to prepare for the impending onslaught I will no doubt receive from Gibbs.

Tony turns towards me and leans one shoulder on the wall, "Did the good doctor clear you?"

"Yes, I think he is trying to convince Gibbs right now."

"That will be a hard sell. You do look beat, and that's after 'work' consisting of a cup of English tea and an exam by Ducky. It's only going to get harder from here." He smiles to try to keep things light.

I blink then close my eyes again and respond in a slightly annoyed tone, "Tony . . ."

"Sorry, Sleeping Beauty."

In truth, his implication my be appropriate since I am too knackered to think of a comeback.