I've had a really crappy day at work ... it's amazing how much work interferrs with the fun stuff in life! Anyway, your reviews always bring a smile to my face. So because of that & because you guys are such wonderful readers, I'm doing a double shot today.

I don't own any of NCIS ... but I can dream ...

Ziva was going crazy. She was waiting for a phone call, and waiting wasn't exactly her forte. She hadn't left her apartment since she placed a call out, worried she would miss the return. She cleaned her place everyday, which only took about an hour now, she reorganized, she exercised, anything to pass the time.

When her land line did ring, first she jumped out of her skin, then she jumped to the phone, picking it up on the second ring. "Hello, this is Ziva."

~ "I must say that I was surprised to receive a summons from you." ~

"Priestess." Ziva sighed in relief at the voice she had been waiting all week to hear. "Thank you for returning my call."

~ "After our last conversation, I did not think I would ever hear from you again." ~

The Priestess' voice sounded like wind chimes and carried an accent. However, it was an accent that Ziva could never quite figure out - sometimes it sounded Jamaican, other times Middle Eastern, or Russian, or Oriental. Ziva supposed it showed how she belong to everyone and no one at the same time.

~ "Ziva?" ~

"I am sorry Priestess, I was just remembering ..."

~ "Ah, yes. Well, enough of the past, what can I do for you?" ~

"I need your help."

~ "Oh?" ~

Ziva could hear the laugh in the Priestess' voice, and she couldn't blame her. When her father had forced her to study under the woman as a child, she did not believe in anything she was being taught ... and their parting was not on the best of terms. "I need you to send me on a journey."

The Priestess bristled. ~ "I am not a travel agency. If it is a vacation ..." ~

"No, Priestess. You are the only one who can send me to the destination I need." Ziva held her breath.

~ "You have become a believer." ~ It was said as a statement of fact.

"Yes."

~ "What has changed?" ~

"I ..." Ziva didn't know how to proceed ... if she could properly express her need.

~ "I must know before I decided whether or not to offer my help." ~

"Death came and took a soul ... right in front of me."

~ "Must have been a special soul." ~

"Yes ... he is."

~ "I wish I could assist you, but once the soul is gone and the body is cold ..." ~

"His body is still living ... if you can call it that."

~ "Machines?" ~

"No. His body is continuing all on its own. He is like a puppet whose strings have been cut."

There was several minutes of silence. It stretched so long that Ziva was afraid she had lost the call. Finally, the Priestess spoke.

~ "You are aware of the consequences for what you are asking?" ~

"I am."

~ "Very well. I will gather what is needed." ~

"Thank you. I can pay ..."

~ "You're belief is payment enough." ~

Ziva smiled. It was the only bit of good news she had since Death had taken her friend. "Is there anything I need to do?"

~ "Yes. I will send you a list, and you will need to brush up on your Latin. I will contact you once again when all is ready." ~

"When should I expect you?"

~ "At least one month." ~

"A month?" Ziva staggered and sat down on her floor.

~ "Yes. At minimum. In today's day and age, items are tracked from supplier to customer. Much of what we need has to be gathered ... discretely. Then I must still find a way to get them to you without drawing unwanted attention. It will take time Ziva." ~

"I know ... it's just ... I had hoped ... I wanted for him not to spend much time ..."

~ "I understand. I will do what I can." ~

Ziva's computer made a sound, as if she had new e-mail. She looked at the machine in confusion.

~ "I think you have just received my list." ~

"E-mail? From you?"

The Priestess laughed, the sound relaxing Ziva's frayed nerves.

~ "As I once told you ... one must always know when to adapt to new ways, without forgetting the old." ~

"You are wise ... I am sorry it took me this long to figure that out."

~ "We all learn in our own time." ~

"Maybe if I ..."

~ "No, Ziva. Playing with what if's will not serve you. Not now, or ever. Focus on the task ahead and do not give up hope." ~

Ziva smiled. "You are right ... again. I look forward to hearing from you soon."

~ "Shalom my dear." ~

"Shalom Priestess."

The phone line clicked and the dial tone sounded. Ziva took a moment to center herself. With renewed purposed, she got up. She went to her computer and opened the e-mail just sent to her. She barely looked at it before she sent it to print. She then went into her bedroom to get dressed. It was time to reach out to some other old contacts so that she could be physically ready for the journey ahead of her.

If she had not been in such a rush and had taken the time to really look at the Priestess' email, she would have noticed that, as it printed out, the amounts needed for many of the items suddenly changed.

As it was, she grabbed the list on her way rushing out the door. If she was lucky, she could do some shopping before hooking up with Jamal, her former partner for her 'Extreme Pilates' as Tony had once put it.

XXXX

Once Tony was emotionally spent, Gibbs guided him back to Tim's room, where Abby and Ducky were still waiting. The four of them sat down and talked about what had happened. This time, there were no raised voices, no one had the energy left - there were also no more tears.

There was, however, many explanations and apologies ... and a truce was reached between Abby and Tony, although reluctantly on Tony's part.

Gibbs noted how both Tony and Abby each had a hold of one of Tim's hands and would have smiled if his own heart didn't feel so heavy.

After several exhausting hours, everyone was ready to leave. One look at Gibbs and Ducky offered to escort Abby home. She placed a kiss on Tim's check and left quietly, not meeting anyone's eyes ... just watching her shoes as she went.

Tony lingered, not wanted to let Tim's hand go, but knowing that he was just looking at an empty shell. He lightly brushed McGee's hair away from his forehead. He leaned in and quietly whispered something into his friend's ear. He then placed his own forehead on top of Tim's and closed his eyes.

Gibbs watched what normally would have been a heartwarming scene, but instead it felt like knife twisting in his chest.

Tony reopened his eyes, stood up straight, and released Tim's hand. He walked out of the room without looking anywhere but right in front of him.

Gibbs wanted to reach out to him again, but knew it would not be welcomed this time. His man needed to work this out on his own. He sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face. He looked at his lost agent and went to his bedside. Gibbs sat down slowly and grabbed the hand Abby once held. It was cold. One thing he had always noticed about his young agent, was how warm his hands always were.

He remembered that once during a case in the winter, he had asked McGee to hand him something or other, and he was shocked at how warm the hand he brushed against had been. It seemed to Gibbs that the warmth epitomized Timothy McGee ... and now that was all gone.

"I'm sorry, McGee ... Tim." He was overwhelmed with emotion and had to stop for a long while before he got it back under control. "You are the glue that held us together ... our balancing force ... with out you ... well it's going to be hard to find our way again."

Now, he too, leaned in close. "But we will. We are going to keep pressing on and keep doing good in this world. Just this time ... this time we won't take for granted what we have." He felt he knew Tim would want them all to carry on, just like they had done when both Kate and Jenny died. He believed it would be a disservice to McGee to just stop, a disgrace to his memory.

While he was leaning in, his check brushed against McGee's and he noticed the stubbly growth on the boy's face. He sat back studying the body lying there. "That won't do McGee. I know you said Abby liked you growing in a beard, but it just doesn't suit you. I'm going to see if they will let me bring a razor in and I'll take care if it first thing tomorrow morning." He had always thought the young man should keep a youthful face. That a beard belong to older, harder men ... something he never wanted Tim to become.

"Goodnight son. See you then."

He too, reluctantly released Tim's hand and left for the night, ready to duke it out with the bottle of whiskey waiting for him in his basement.

XXXX

The following day found Gibbs back at the Center at the crack of dawn. He received permission to bring a razor to shave Tim, but was only allowed the disposable ones, straight-edge was strictly forbidden. He spent the whole morning complaining to McGee about it while he shaved his agent.

At 0600, Abby showed up, still subdued, but trying very hard to put on a brave face. She sat down on Tim's bed and told him about all the information she found out about comas. Quoting success stories and offering encouragement. "You know, there was this one guy, his family had completely written him off, and then one day he just woke-up. It was fifteen years later and his memories were a bit scrambled, but he still woke-up. You won't make us wait fifteen years, right?" She squeezed his hand and laid her head on his shoulder. "Please don't make us wait that long."

An hour later Ducky and Jimmy showed up. Abby and Jimmy had fun playing with the stuffed dog, making it go through all of its programmed sounds. It brought, to the two older men watching, a smile to Ducky's face ... and a small light to Gibbs' eyes.

Even though Team Gibbs had extended time off, the three scientist did not. They said their goodbyes, with promises of returning, and left Gibbs alone again with Tim.

The functional mute talked all day - going over incidents from his childhood; to boot camp; to his first case as an NIS agent - until noon, leaving under the pretense of finding food. However, he had a feeling his senior agent was waiting to visit alone. He found a little diner close by and took his time to order and eat. It was an hour later when he finally made his way back to the Center.

He found out he was right, as he approached Tim's door, he heard Tony's voice ... reading to Tim.

"McGregor sighed at being told that he was to be left behind, again, and turned back to his computer. After grabbing his gear, Agent Tommy came over with a smug look on his face. 'Sooooo, McLeftBehind, make sure you have that search finished by the time we come back.' Expecting a fight, he actually frowned when McGregor just nodded. 'What? No smart come-back?'"

"McGregor looked at his co-worker. 'How can I? I know Tibbs doesn't trust me ... why should he ... after what I did.' For once Tommy turned serious, he opened his mouth to respond, but Tibbs called for him. So as he stood, he gave his partner a head slap. 'Hey, what was that for?'"

"'You had no way of knowing he was an undercover cop. It could have happened to any of us.' He leaned down, pretending to pick up something. He spoke softly but firmly, 'If he didn't trust you, you wouldn't still be on his team.' McGregor looked at him as if he had spoken in a foreign language. Before he could respond, Tibbs ruffled voice reached them - 'TOMMY! You coming or what?'"

"Very Special Agent Tommy winked at his friend and trotted away. McGregor took a moment to mull over what he said. Maybe, he's right. I guess Tibbs would have kicked me to the curb by now. Maybe he just realizes this is where I can best help the team. McGregor nodded to himself. That was it! Aces in their Places. He knew his place, but also he knew that he would step back and learn. That was what he did best, learn. He would watch the best, commit what they did to memory and slowly work his way back to deserving to be out in the field."

Tony paused in his reading. "Then you don't bring up McGregor again for five chapters. Five! Do you really think you're just the tech help? That we don't trust you out in the field?" He sighed deeply. "I'm going to have to rewrite this thing. Jeeze, I can't believe this was a best seller!"

Gibbs heard the book being closed. "We have a lot to go over McGee. I'll be back tomorrow and then we're going to get this book of yours straightened out."

The team leader back away from the door and went down the hall, making sure Tony believed he was still alone. He watched his man exit the building, without even looking at any of the pretty staff as he went by. Gibbs sighed and realized he had been doing that a lot lately.

He went back into the room and sat down quietly on the bed. He grabbed Tim's hand and gently rubbed his thumb over the boy's knuckles. "You know, when we went to face off with Archer, it was because I didn't want you wallowing in your own guilt. I figured if you confronted the guy who was really responsible for Benedict's death, you'd be okay. When he pulled his gun and you just stood there ... I though for sure that I was going to see another one of my agents gunned down in front of me ... I was going to lose another kid."

"I don't do scared well, usually comes out as anger ... which is why I told you if you ever froze again, I'd have your badge. The reason I kept you out of the field for a while was so that you could find your equilibrium again ... before you were faced with another life-or-death situation."

He brought his other hand up and encased McGee's hand. "You know ... I found out that you went to Jim Nelson for help. That made me mad ... could't understand why you went to someone outside of the team. Then I did some checking, found out he helped you back in FLETC for the weapons training. It made sense to me then."

Gibbs shifted slightly, he took one of his hands ran it through Tim's hair, while the other still held onto McGee's. "I know how hard his death hit you ... that you even carried some guilt about it ..." He let the back of his hand touch Tim's temple and then slid it down his cheek and neck, coming to rest on his should. "You always carried around too much guilt ... and I never took the time to tell you not to."

He sighed deeply. "Damn it, Tim! I thought ... hoped you alway knew how proud of you I was ... am. But, I guess looking from the outside in ..."

Gibbs paused and looked out the window for several minutes, then closed his eyes and conjured and image of Death. Please! Don't let Tim pay for my mistakes ... If you need someone to punish, then let me take his place! Just ... just bring him back to us!

He opened his eyes and stared at McGee, hoping Death heard his plea. But the boy remained as still as stone. He gripped harder the hand he was holding and went back to staring out the window, no longer in the mood to talk.