When Sacha Paulson saw Ziva walk into the interview room at the Coast Guard, she sighed, rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"I knew there was something weird about you two."

Ziva tried not to take offense and introduced herself formally. "Special Agent Ziva David, NCIS," she said, and took the seat across the table from her.

"What is NCIS?" Sacha asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," Ziva explained, even as she heard Tony's perpetually irritated sigh in her head. "I am investigating the death of Ensign Will Crawford in April this year." She paused and waited for that to sink in, and felt enormous satisfaction at the way Sacha suddenly went very still before shifting in her seat and casting her eyes down. She may as well have hung a 'guilty' sign over her head.

Ziva took a photo of Will and Alicia Crawford out of the folder in her hand and placed it in front of Sacha. It was a beautiful photo of the two of them taken on board the Caribbean Carnivalé the day before Will died. "Do you recognize this man?"

Sacha glanced at he photo and appeared to weigh up her options. Truth or lie? She pursed her lips and hesitated too long, so Ziva gave her a nudge.

"Sacha, if you want to help yourself and Julie, you must work with us." She took a punt that Sacha would be a lot more concerned about Julie's welfare than John's. "Things will not be good for either of you from here on, but there are levels of how bad they could be. Do you understand?"

Sacha crossed her legs and her shoulders dropped as she sighed and took the correct option. "Yes," she said, and answered Ziva's earlier question. "He and his wife were on a cruise with us earlier in the year."

"You spent time with them?" Ziva asked.

"Yes." She narrowed her eyes again. "But they didn't insist on hanging around as us much as you and your husband, or whoever he was, did."

Ziva supposed the comment was meant to hurt her. But given that she and Tony had gone on the cruise with the specific intention of gathering all the information they could about Sacha and her friends, she took it as a comment on a job well done.

"You had dinner with them?"

"A few times," Sacha said, heaving a sigh. "I didn't mind them so much. The wife, Alicia, was a bit much. She had this habit of drawing pictures of what she was talking about with her hands. But she was fun. I didn't talk to him much, but John didn't seem to like him." She paused to let out a bitter laugh. "John doesn't really like anyone except Martin and his brother."

"Jim," Ziva said.

Sacha seemed surprised that Ziva knew that, but nodded. "Yeah." She leaned forward. "Where is John?"

Ziva clasped her hands together on the tabletop. "He is currently in a critical condition in hospital," she said, and managed to keep the vicious pleasure she felt at that out of her voice. "I believe he is undergoing emergency surgery to remove a bullet from his chest."

Sacha gasped softly and Ziva was surprised by the worry that crossed her face. "Did you do that to him?" she asked, her voice low.

"No," Ziva replied, and managed not to add But I would have liked to. "It appears that he, Martin and Oscar McCarthy were involved in a shootout onboard the Sunfish with your drug running partners. Salvatore?" she baited, and then looked at her folder as if it contained all the pertinent information. "It seems John was the only one breathing when they were found. Well, barely breathing," she amended with a callous shrug.

But Sacha didn't focus on that. "What about drug running partners?" she asked innocently.

Ziva blatantly rolled her eyes. "Sacha," she said, disappointment dripping from her tongue. "Remember we just talked about helping yourself and Julie?"

"Where's Julie?" she asked.

"She is being interviewed by another agent," Ziva told her, and wondered to herself if Gibbs had already managed to break Julie. She seemed to be the weaker link, so Ziva thought it was likely. "And I sincerely hope for both your sakes that she is being honest."

"Honest about what?" Sacha asked, getting worked up. "You were asking about Will and Alicia, and now you're talking about drugs. Why don't you get your story straight? Or are you just throwing darts at the board until one of them hits?"

Ziva groaned to herself. Nothing better than an arrogant criminal in handcuffs. "Okay," she said with a sigh that told Sacha how ridiculous she was being. Perhaps they could get through this quicker if Ziva laid it out for her and got a confession. "I will tell you how this looks to us, and then you can tell me that I am correct. Your friends Rodney and Nadine live on a property in Samaná where they grow cocoa plants, which they harvest and turn into cocaine."

Sacha's eyes widened before she slumped right down. She had to know right there that she was completely screwed.

"You, John and the Roses have an agreement with them where you collect the drugs and take them to the United States onboard the Caribbean Carnivalé, smuggled inside teddy bears," Ziva went on, dragging her fingertips across the tabletop as if tracing the route. "Herschelle, the entertainment director, and one of the security screeners on board the ship help you get the bears onto the ship without detection. When the ship docks in Key West, John and Martin take the cocaine-stuffed bears off the ship and meet up with Oscar McCarthy on board the Sunfish. They then head out to sea to meet up with your business partners, led by Salvatore, where they hand off the drugs for payment." She paused. "How am I doing?"

Sacha just glared.

"I will take that as encouragement," Ziva said. "Now. Back in April, Will Crawford either overheard John and Martin talking about your drug running plans, or saw something that made him suspect they were up to something. You could not risk him talking to the authorities, so you poured rubbing alcohol into his cocktail. He died. And on a later cruise, another passenger you made friends with, Ken Klein, stumbled upon something he was not meant to, and John beat him up to keep him quiet. Then, when you suspected me and my partner of discovering what was going on, John attempted to attack us."

Sacha started shaking her head, as if clueless about all of this. "I don't know anything about you and Ken being attacked. And I had no idea that Will died until you told me."

Ziva arched a dubious eyebrow. "You did not notice that he and Alicia were no longer on board?"

"Of course I noticed," Sacha said. "But I just assumed they didn't get back on board by departure time and we left without them."

"A lethal amount of rubbing alcohol was found in his system," Ziva told her.

"Weird," Sacha said.

"You gave me rubbing alcohol for the bug bites on my legs."

Sacha rolled her eyes. "Because rubbing alcohol is a controlled substance," she drawled. "You said John attacked you and whoever that other guy was."

"Ken Klein."

"Right." She shrugged. "I can't be held responsible if my husband goes off on his own and has a brain snap that leads him to attack people."

Ziva regarded her with a touch of wonder. She was going to pin it all on her husband. The same husband who was unlikely to live through the night and wouldn't be able to argue his side. That was pretty cold. Ziva had to hope that Julie's conscience was guiltier than her friend's, and that she would admit at least some knowledge of the murder and attacks.

She tried a different route. "You know what I do wonder about?" she asked. "What happened between John and Salvatore that ended with a mass shooting at sea."

Sacha's mouth twitched, but she shrugged. "Who knows? They all have pretty big egos. Anything could have set them off."

Ziva drummed her fingers on the table as she pretended to think that over. "Hmm," she grunted. "I have another theory." She paused as Sacha twitched again. "My theory is that you and Julie were skimming off the top of the delivery without John or Martin knowing. And that while they went out to sea to make the exchange, you and Julie sold baggies of cocaine out of a coffee shop near port. My guess is that you'd been doing that for a while, and Salvatore was getting sick of being short changed. So he confronted John and Martin about it this morning, and…well. It all went to hell."

Sacha took that in silently for a full ten seconds with a quivering lip before she said, "You have no proof of that." But her voice lacked the confidence and bravado of earlier. She was close to breaking.

In response, Ziva pulled the small baggie of cocaine she'd lifted from Sacha's handbag out of her pocket and placed it on the table. "I have that," she said, hoping it would be the final straw. "That was in your possession this morning. And I am sure I will have multiple security camera recordings of you dealing out of that coffee shop." She leaned her elbows on the table. "I also have the testimony of Julie, Herschelle, the coffee shop owner, Ken Klein, Alicia Crawford, not to mention John, if he pulls through. Oh, and we will pick up Jim Paulson as well. He is bankrolling the operation, yes?"

Sacha bit the inside of her lip and averted her eyes.

"Come on, Sacha," Ziva said, treading more gently now that she was close to the edge. "Help yourself."

Sacha looked at her again and tears welled in her eyes. She broke. "We were just trying to find a way out," she said. "Me and Julie. John and Martin have practically held us hostage all these years. Going along with all their dumb plans because they were too scared of what two guys going on cruises together would look like. " She rolled her eyes so hard she almost fell out of her chair. "I hate them so much. They forced us into this. Me and Julie, we were just trying to get enough money together so that we could leave them and disappear."

"And you were willing to kill Will Crawford to make that happen?" Ziva asked. But Sacha shook her head.

"No, no. I didn't know anything about that, I promise," she said, and Ziva had to admit she sounded sincere. "John had said something about him poking his nose in and needing to make sure he didn't say anything, but I swear I didn't know anything about him being poisoned."

"With rubbing alcohol," Ziva repeated. "That you carry in your handbag."

Sacha nodded. "Right. I carry it all the time. John knows that. He could've taken it anytime and slipped it in Will's drink."

"Without you seeing him?"

Sacha threw her hands up. "Maybe. I don't have eyes on him 24/7."

"What about Ken Klein?"

She looked guilty at that one. "Yes, I knew John beat him up. And I knew he tried to beat up your husband, or whoever."

"My partner," Ziva said.

Sacha paused and looked at her curiously. "He's really your husband? Did he know you were investigating—"

"My work partner," Ziva emphasized.

"Oh." She shrugged. "Could've fooled me. You did fool me."

Ziva waved her hand, urging her to get back on track. "So you knew John was going to attack us."

"Not exactly," Sacha said. "I didn't know about the other guy until after John had already beaten him up. With you guys, after I told him your partner had been snooping in our room, John ran out after you and I kind of assumed he was looking to do some damage."

"But you did not stop him."

Sacha just shrugged, and Ziva supposed she wasn't terribly offended.

"Sacha, is there anything I've said that you would like to set the record straight on?" she asked.

"I did it against my will," Sacha protested. "John and Jim would have killed me if I'd pulled out. You have to believe me."

"I will certainly make a note of that," Ziva told her. "But that is something that your defense attorney can argue in your trial." She stood up and picked up her folder. It was time to confer with Gibbs.

"Do you think John's going to die?" Sacha asked as Ziva headed for the door.

Ziva turned back to her. "I am not sure," she said. "Although I sincerely hope he does not. There are things he has done that I would very much like him to answer for."

Sacha's eyes drifted away as she thought it over, and then snapped back to Ziva when she made her decision. "Eight years in a crappy marriage. To be honest with you, I really hope the bastard dies."

It was one statement that Ziva had no doubt was the truth.

…

After several hours at the hospital, Tony was getting restless. He'd been lucky to be pushed through triage quickly thanks to a manageable number of other patients and the potential that he had a head injury. Fortunately, his CT scan hadn't found any fractures or bleeds, but he still had a hell of a concussion that his doctor said warranted at least an overnight stay on the ward to make sure that it didn't turn into something to be very concerned about. As soon as a bed became available up there, he'd be moved. For now, he was stuck in a bay in the ER.

The killer headache he'd been gifted as a result of the knocks to his head and gone into full bloom, and just as he'd mentioned to Ziva, Tony took the offered pain relief (and added nausea relief) with relish. They'd taken the edge off the pain and made him feel nice and light and liquid all over, but he was bored and didn't have his phone to help pass the time. God only knew where that had ended up. He hoped whoever was working the crime scene managed to not only recover it, but decided that he could have it back instead of submitting it into evidence. That phone had most of the things he needed to live his life on it. But more importantly, it had some very nice and very private photos of Ziva that he didn't want anyone else to see.

The idea that they might be found made him feel a bit less liquid and light, and he sat up on the gurney and looked around. There was a phone on the wall. He should call Ziva and tell her to grab his phone from Oscar McCarthy's boat before anyone else could. He swung his legs off the bed and reached back to make sure his hospital gown was closed securely before getting up and taking the two steps over to the phone. But when he reached for it, it occurred to him that he had no idea what Ziva's number was. Or McGee's, or anyone's. Their numbers were all stored in his phone—both his cell and his desk phone—and so he never dialed them.

"Uh-oh."

"What's the uh-oh, DiNozzo?"

Tony turned his head quickly at the sound of Borin's voice, and then immediately regretted it. The room spun and his stomach heaved, but before he crashed to the floor Borin caught him and maneuvered him back to the bed.

"Whoa, easy there."

"Don't sneak up on a man with a head injury," Tony told her, and settled back into his semi-reclined position on the gurney. "He might vomit on your shoes."

"Like that's never happened before," Borin drawled, and pulled his blanket up to his waist. "Who were you trying to call?"

Tony put his hand on his head and squeezed his eyes shut as he rode out the last few moments of his brain's wild trip around the room. "Ziva. It's really important."

"Where's your phone?"

He opened his eyes and waggled his finger at her. "Exactly." He noticed a small crease form between Borin's eyebrows, and he gestured at his head. "They gave me some awesome painkillers and they make me kind of…" He trailed off in favor of making a few wild, explanatory gestures with his hands. Borin nodded slowly.

"Okay, then. This should be fun. Want me to call her?"

Tony gasped with the realization that Borin would have Ziva's number. "Yes! Very important."

Borin pulled out her cell and her eyes flicked between him and the phone as she navigated to Ziva's number. There was a blatant smirk on her face. "So, painkillers make you crazy, huh?"

Tony sighed and nodded, completely missing that it was information he probably should have kept from her. "So crazy."

"Well, that's a fun fact," she said, and then lifted the phone to her ear. After a few long seconds she looked at him. "Voicemail," she told him, and then started her message. "Hey, it's Borin. I'm with DiNozzo at the hospital and he's all kinds of crazy on the drugs, but he's very clear that he needs to talk to you."

"My cell phone!" Tony said loudly.

"His cell phone," Borin repeated.

"Gotta get that sucka from the boat!" he continued.

Borin chuckled. "Yeah, he wants you to get it from Oscar McCarthy's boat."

"Don't let it get collected as evidence!" Tony called.

Borin's smile grew. "What have you got on that thing, DiNozzo?" she asked, before repeating the message for Ziva. "He doesn't want his phone collected as evidence," she said, and then addressed Tony again. "You know she's handling interviews and McGee is handling the crime scene? You should be calling McGee."

Tony pointed at her dramatically. "He is NOT to go though my cell phone!" he insisted. "It's private…There are private things that are NOT for McGee."

"I'll call McGee," Borin decided, and hung up.

"Not McGee!" Tony whined. "You're not listening. Take off your earmuffs!"

"My what?"

Tony gestured at his ears with frustration. "God!"

"Do you want me to call him or not?"

Tony heaved a sigh and tried to think clearly. "Just don't give him my password."

"I don't know your password, DiNozzo," Borin pointed out, and flicked through her phone again to find McGee's number.

Tony clicked his fingers as a lightning bolt of clarity hit him. "Yes! You're right. And he probably doesn't have my fingerprints with him." He gestured at the phone. "Do that."

Borin shook her head as she connected to McGee. "Hey, it's Borin," she said, and then leaned casually against Tony's bed. "So, did you guys know that DiNozzo's not good with painkillers?"

Tony glared at her. "Don't mock me," he warned. "I know people who can put the evil eye on you. I don't really believe in all that, but maybe it's true, so you'd better watch out or else a bunch of Italian ladies are going to mess you up. To say nothing of what Ziva's going to do to you. You're all buddy-buddy BFFs, but if she had to pick sides I am quietly confident that you're in the dust, my friend. Cursed dust. Like in The Mummy where the High Priest could make all the sand in the desert rise up and made his face appear in it, and if you saw that you were screwed. Obviously, Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz survived it, but I don't know if you're Rachel Weisz. You're cool, but are you outrunning a sand mummy cool? I'm not sure you are. So you'd better watch out. I don't even think—" He stopped suddenly as Borin hung up. "What are you doing?"

"McGee has your phone," she told him. "There's only a tiny bit of blood on it, so he decided not to enter it into evidence. He'll get it to you tonight."

Tony blinked. "You didn't even speak to him."

"I did!" Borin insisted. "You were just focused on sand mummies or something."

Tony pursed his lips and reclined back again. He wondered if she was messing with him. "Whose blood?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't give him my password, did you?"

"I already said—"

"Right, I remember," he said, and he did.

Borin eyed him. "You didn't tell me if you're okay. Aside from the drugs."

"Ol' faithful concussion," he told her, pointing to the general area. "But they think it's okay."

Borin opened her mouth, frowned, and then tilted her head to the side as she regarded him. "They think it's okay?" she repeated, as if she didn't think he understood what he was saying.

"Yeah," Tony almost sand. "Probably that bit of my brain has been toughened up by all the times Gibbs has hit me. Like tempered glass. I have a tempered brain." He nodded to himself for a good five seconds. "Yeah, I feel great."

"Uh-huh," Borin grunted, sounding unconvinced. She quickly texted someone and then looked up at him again. "Where's your doctor?"

Tony shrugged. "What are you doing here?"

"I escorted John Paulson," she reminded him. "He's in surgery. Will probably still be a few more hours."

"Maybe I can interview him when he gets out."

Borin cocked her head to the side. "I don't think either of you will be in a condition to do that for a while."

Tony made a 'pft' noise. "That's what you say. Head injuries have never slowed me down before."

Borin nodded, humoring him, and looked down at her phone when it beeped.

"What's that?" Tony wanted to know.

Borin shot off a text in reply and then put her phone in her pocket. "Nothing. Just, um, we got Sacha Paulson and Julie Rose in custody, and we've rounded up Herschelle and one of the security guards from the ship. Plus the owner of the café where Sacha and Julie were dealing this morning."

"I should probably do something more constructive than just sit here," Tony said, and ran a hand through his hair. Or at least he attempted to. The duct tape that remained stuck to his hair at the back of his head got in the way, so he started picking at it.

"You know you kind of look like a Lego man right now," Borin told him. "Or a Ken doll."

"Don't mock me," he repeated. "Or a sand mummy will get you."

Borin took a seat on the gurney by his feet. "So, how was the cruise? Aside from the part where you were almost drowned."

"Cruisy," he told her, and then gave her a wink. "I got a little sun."

"I see that. I'm sorry I couldn't make it."

"I'm not," he replied bluntly. When Borin arched an amused eyebrow, he backtracked. "Sorry, it's the drugs. I mean me and Ziva work great together, and if you've got a partner you work great with, you want to stay with them. No offense."

"None taken," Borin said. "So, you had a good time together?"

He winked again. "We always do."

"How good?"

He pointed at her. "I see you fishin' for fishies."

Borin grinned. "Gimme a fishy, then."

"Get your own fishy."

"Mr DiNozzo?"

"I am that fishy," he declared, and looked at the dark-haired nurse who stood by the curtain to his ER bay. She paused and looked at Borin.

"Apparently this little fishy gets weird on painkillers," Borin told her.

The nurse accepted that, and then wheeled a tray table into the bay that had a bowl of yellow liquid and two big sponges on it. "Mr DiNozzo, we're going to try to get that tape out of your hair," she told him.

"Yes, please," he said, and then another nurse walked into the bay. She raised her eyebrows.

"Wow. That's a lot of tape, huh?"

"I think he looks like a Lego man," Borin told them helpfully.

Tony held his hand up at her. "Sand mummies."

"What happened, exactly?" the dark-haired nurse asked.

"I was captured by drug dealers who wrapped duct tape around me from head to toe with the intention of dropping me off the back of their boat into the ocean."

Both nurses looked at him impassively, before looking to Borin. Borin nodded.

"He's a weird little Lego man, but he's honest."

"Have the police been called?" the second nurse, a blonde, asked.

"We are the police," Tony told her. Again, the nurses looked to Borin.

Borin shrugged. "We are the police," she repeated.

"Okay, then," the blonde nurse murmured, and came up on Tony's right side. The dark-haired nurse went left, and she positioned the tabletop over Tony's lap where they could both reach it. "So, we're going to use olive oil," she told him. "It should help break down the stickiness so the tape can slide right out."

Tony scrunched his face into a frown. "Oil? Why don't I just soak my head in a bucket of water for a while?"

"Doesn't work as fast," Borin said. "Didn't you ever see those duct tape episodes of Mythbusters? They made a functioning boat out of the stuff and it held together."

Tony slowly looked up at her. He had intended to make fun of her, even if his brain couldn't quite find the insult he wanted, but forgot that when he saw she had her phone out again and aimed at him. "Are you filming me?"

Borin grinned gleefully. "You bet I am."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Ugh, that's so mean."

"Depends on who you ask," Borin said with a shrug. "I am positive that Ziva will enjoy seeing this."

"You're so mean," he repeated with a shake of his head. He couldn't think of anything else to say. Meanwhile, the nurses had put on their gloves and the dark-haired one had an oily sponge in her hand, ready to go. Tony sighed. "Really?"

"Let's give it a try," she said patiently.

Tony held up his hand. "Okay. But if you're going to cover me in oil, I feel like I should probably know your name first."

The nurses laughed.

"I'm Holly," said the blonde and then gestured to other one. "And that's Carmen."

Tony nodded a hello, and then felt the urge to explain himself. "This is not normal for me."

"Sweetheart, hardly anyone who comes through the doors here is having a normal day," Carmen assured him, and then took the oil-laden sponge and pressed it to the back of his head. A few drops dripped down onto the shoulders of his hospital grown, and Tony looked over at Borin. Her face was red with laughter.

"This is maybe the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me," he told her.

Borin gathered her composure just long enough to retort, "I'm kind of disappointed by that, DiNozzo."

Holly pressed her sponge against the other side of his head. "Just try to relax," she advised him in a soothing voice.

He looked up at her curiously. She was probably 15 years younger than him, pretty and smelled faintly of roses under hospital antiseptic when she was up close. Tony was pretty sure she wasn't hitting on him, but he felt like he had to shut it down just in case she was.

"I'm in a relationship."

Holly glanced between him and Borin and Carmen, and while Borin went back to laughing her ass off, Holly mostly managed to stifle her amused grin and patted his shoulder.

"I'll just keep waiting for my Prince Charming, then," she told him, and somehow managed not to make him feel like a creepy idiot.

He felt olive oil slide down the back of his neck and suppressed a shudder. "I'm sure it's the painkillers, but if you can just assure me that there isn't a jellyfish sitting on my head right now I'd sure appreciate it."

"It's the painkillers," Borin assured him. "But the gator's real."

Tony's eyes flicked around the room just to be safe. "You're so mean."

Borin grinned around the side of her phone. "Then it's a good thing you already found your Cinderella and don't need to rely on me, DiNozzo."

…

Dusk had settled by the time Ziva made it to the hospital. Guilt that things had taken so long shadowed her down the hall to the nurses' station, but she tried to shrug it off. She knew this would not be the only time when she would have to make a choice between work and her partner, nor the only time she would feel guilty about the choice she made. It was something she would have to get used to. She reasoned with herself that Tony was not dying. He was not critically injured or having surgery. Borin had texted her that he was fine, and that his overnight stay was simply a precaution. And she reasoned that if their roles were reversed, she would have wanted Tony to finish off their important investigation before coming to sit with her in hospital and do nothing. She didn't doubt that he would feel the same way.

But she still felt guilty.

The nurse behind the desk looked up as Ziva approached and gave her a typical nurse smile: pleasant, but already impatient and encouraging her to get to the point immediately. Ziva held up her badge out of habit.

"I am Agent David, NCIS. My partner, Agent DiNozzo, was brought up from the ER this afternoon."

The nurse nodded. "He's in 212, down the hall and to the right. But visiting hours are almost over."

Ziva didn't have any intention of adhering to visiting hours, but for now she nodded her thanks and went in the direction she was pointed. The lights were off in his room and the curtain was drawn around the bed, shielding him from view of passers by. Ziva assumed that meant he was sleeping, so she tip-toed around the curtain as quietly as possible. As expected, Tony's eyes were closed and he was curled up on his side. What she didn't expect was that Borin would still be there, sitting in a visitor's chair by the window.

Borin looked up from her phone as Ziva entered her peripheral vision, and tossed her an easy smile. "Hi there."

Ziva laid her jacket over the bottom of Tony's bed. "Good evening," she returned. "Have you been here all afternoon?"

Borin bobbed her head from side to side. "Been going back and forth with John Paulson. He's under police guard in the ICU."

"He pulled through?"

Borin nodded. "Yeah, for now. It's still a waiting game, though." She gestured at Tony. "He started talking about going down there and going Charles Manson on him a little while ago, so I thought I'd hang out for a bit and make sure that didn't happen."

Ziva frowned. "Charles Manson?"

"I think he meant Charles Bronson."

Ziva shook her head. "Who is that?"

"Tough guy actor from the 80s." Borin waved her phone at her. "I sent you a couple of videos for when you're in the mood for a laugh. Did you bring his phone? Because he's been real insistent about that."

Ziva cracked a smile, recalling the strange voicemail she'd received from Borin earlier in the day. "Yes, I brought his phone."

Borin eyed her with amused curiosity. "What's he got on there that's so precious?"

Ziva shrugged. "I have no idea. Probably a list of his 100 favorite movies of all time that took him months to consider and finalize."

"Sounds about right," Borin decided. She stood and stretched. "I might leave you with all this," she gestured at Tony, "if you don't mind."

"It was good of you to stay," Ziva told her. "I am sure he appreciated it."

"Hard to say. He was pretty doped up. By the way, I'm not sure if you talked to McGee but he got all your stuff off the Caribbean Carnivalé. I think he took it back to his hotel room."

Ziva hadn't even thought of that, but she felt suddenly exceptionally grateful. "Thank you." As Borin slipped behind her, Ziva leaned over Tony and peered at the back of his head. The tape appeared to be gone and his hair looked mostly intact, aside from a few weird patches. "How did they get the tape out?"

"Olive oil," Borin said as she slipped her jacket on. "It's in one of the videos I sent you. It might be my favorite." She paused and looked at Ziva knowingly. "He thought one of the nurses was hitting on him so he made sure she knew he was already in a relationship."

Ziva rolled her eyes. Of course he thought a nurse was hitting on him. It was classic DiNozzo—

The thought died suddenly when Ziva realized what Borin was saying. Tony, in his drugged state, had confirmed for Borin that he and Ziva had taken a big step. She peeked at Borin to confirm, and Borin waggled her eyebrows. Ziva rolled her eyes again and shot a glare at her sleeping partner.

"Idiot," she muttered.

Borin bumped her with her shoulder before she headed for the door. "My lips are sealed, David."

"Thank you," Ziva called after her.

"Catch you later." Borin waved without turning back, and then left the room.

"Who's yelling?"

Ziva's eyes fell on her partner again. His eyes were still closed but he was frowning with more irritation than she thought she had ever seen on him before. She pulled the visitor chair over to the side of the bed and took a seat. "Me," she told him. "Go back to sleep."

In direct defiance Tony opened his eyes and blinked a few times as he tried to focus on her. "You," he said.

"In the flesh."

"Watch out for the fire ants."

She knew he was probably talking drug-crazy, but she couldn't stop herself from glancing around the room. "I will," she promised.

"Did they get Borin?"

Ziva shook her head. "The fire ants? No. She left."

Tony sighed. "That woman can talk. And she ate my Jell-O."

"I am sorry to hear that," she told him, hoping she sounded at least mildly sympathetic to his problem. "How are you feeling?"

"Ah-mazing," he told her. "Gonna be out of here tomorrow and then I'm gonna go see John Paulson and punch him in the face."

Ziva nodded. "I might not stop you from doing that. Sacha and Julie have been charged over Will Crawford's death and drug trafficking. However we were not able to charge them with attempted murder."

"Of whatsisface?" Tony asked. "The pink guy who took naked photos of himself."

"No, of you."

"Rightrightright." He gave her a thumbs up and winked. "Good job, Wonder Woman."

She put her hand over his. "If John pulls through we will be able to charge him instead."

Tony nodded for far longer than was necessary. "You know, I would have been so annoyed if I'd died, Ziva."

"Annoyed?" It didn't seem exactly right, but Tony seemed adamant.

"Yeah. I mean, the timing couldn't have been worse. After eight years I get a couple of days with you before life decides that's it? That's all I get?" He switched to shaking his head. "Devote your life to helping other people, and in thanks I only get a couple of days with you? So annoying."

Ziva's thought tightened a little. She'd had the same thought while she was on the boat trying to find him, although 'annoying' wasn't the word she had been thinking of. "Yes," she agreed. "That would have been terrible timing."

He tugged her hand. "I think it'd be better if we died at the same time," he went on, as if this wasn't a completely morbid discussion. To be fair, his drugged up mind probably didn't realize that it was. "I sure as hell don't want to be the one left behind, and I'd feel so bad about leaving you to deal with it."

It wasn't the right time for a serious discussion about it, so Ziva just humored him. "That is very romantic, Tony. We must try to arrange that."

His eyes wandered off over her shoulder as he thought about it more. "Of course, that doesn't leave anyone to avenge my death. And I definitely want that to happen."

"McGee will handle it," she assured him.

Tony made a face that suggested he wasn't convinced. "McGee's not very revenge-y."

She patted his hand. "We needn't worry about it now."

"Where are him and Gibbs?"

"Coast Guard," she told him. "Wrapping things up. Giving Alicia Crawford the good news. They are glad you are okay, too."

Tony tugged her hand. "Then come here."

She dissolved into a smile and leaned over the bed to give him a soft, warm kiss. When she pulled back, Tony patted the mattress beside him.

"I said come here."

Ziva looked at the small gap between him and the edge of the mattress. "I do not think there is space."

"Is too," he insisted. "Come here."

"I really do not think the hospital likes people doing that."

Tony groaned as the ceiling. "Oh my God, where's your sense of adventure?"

Ziva sighed to herself. She supposed it was no big deal. Eventually the nurse would come in and tell her to get the hell out. Until then, they could lie together and she could relax a little after a very stressful day. Tony shifted back a little to make a sliver more room for her, and Ziva carefully maneuvered herself to lie on her side next to him. Her knees bumped into his and she felt like she was about to fall off at any moment. But it made Tony smile so she held on.

"You know the nurse is going to kick me out soon," she told him.

He shrugged. "Let her try," he told her with stoned confidence. "I'll just tell her you're my therapy dog."

She felt her eyebrow arch sharply. "Really."

Tony shook his head and waved his hand before driving it gently into her hair. "No, I mean my really beautiful, human, equal partner therapy dog."

She was impressed by his ability to backpedal even in his state. "Okay."

"Looks-wise," he went on, not realizing (or caring) that he had placated her, "I think you'd be one of those Spaniel kind of dogs with the silky, curly hair and the eyes, you know? But personality-wise, you're probably more like a German Shepherd. Fierce."

"Wow."

"It's a compliment."

Ziva shook her head to herself and stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers. "Despite comparing me to a dog, I am glad you were not thrown in the ocean."

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh my God, you're such a mushy girl right now," he said, and she sighed at his banter even as she smiled at it. He smiled back and stroked his hand through her hair again. "If we're being honest and mushy, I guess I wasn't ready to say goodbye to your face just yet. I don't think I'll be ready for that for a long time."

It felt strange and scary to be so honest about it when they'd spent so long pretending. But it made her smile and her stomach flip in a way she liked. "Good," she said softly. "Because I am not ready for that either."

He grinned and shifted his head closer to hers on the pillow, and gently tugged her hair. "Hey, you want to know what I've been thinking about?"

She wasn't sure that she did. "Um…"

"We're a good team," he stated, powering through her reservations.

"Yes."

"Jellyfish are so weird."

She frowned at the very strange turn. "Okay?"

"I mean as partners and as partners."

She blinked and tried to follow him. "You and me?"

"Yeah."

Ziva nodded. "I agree."

He tugged her hair again and looked at her earnestly. "I really, really like opening my eyes to you in the morning. And also whenever now is. Night time?"

She felt a smile melt over her face. "Yes."

"Just generally opening my eyes and seeing you."

"I like seeing you too," she assured him.

He nodded seriously. "How do you feel about jellyfish?"

Ziva chuckled and wondered what it must be like to be in his head right now. "I have no strong feelings one way or another."

"I like being around you," Tony said, turning the conversation again. "It makes me happy. But I worry that we're going to spend too much time together and that won't be good."

As stoned as he was, Ziva was still relieved to hear him say that. "I worry about that too," she said. "So we will make sure to manage that."

Tony's brain turned again. "Do you think jellyfish have, like, feelings and emotions?"

"Why are you thinking so much about jellyfish?" she had to ask.

"There was one on my head earlier," he told her as a matter of fact.

Ziva frowned sharply. "What? On the boat?"

"No, here," he said, and gestured around them. He let his hand fall onto her hip. "They put a jellyfish on my head."

Despite her best efforts, Ziva couldn't help laughing. "That is…strange."

"I thought so," he muttered. "But they were dressed as nurses."

"The jellyfish?" she joked. Tony didn't get it.

"No, the nurses."

"Then they were probably real nurses."

He twisted his lips and then looked at her with a touch of guilt. "I think one of them liked me."

Ziva thought of Borin's comment from earlier, and she stroked his cheek again. "How could she not?"

He didn't seem to get that she was gently making fun of him, and instead tried to prove his loyalty. "I think I want to be with you forever. I'm not sure if I told you that."

She melted a little more and leaned over to kiss him again. "I want to be with you forever too."

"That makes it easier," he said with a smile, but then it dropped. "So, you think jellyfish have emotions?"

"I honestly do not know, Tony."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad I'm not a jellyfish. I think it'd be hard."

"Probably."

He stroked her hip up and down. "I wouldn't mind being Sean Connery."

"I may have already suspected this."

"But then I wouldn't know you."

"No."

He pursed his lips and weighed that up before shaking his head. "Well, that's just unacceptable." He slid his hand up to her waist and tried to snuggle in closer. "I'm not keen on letting you go."

Ziva shook her head. "I am not keen on that either."

"Let's agree not to."

"Okay," she said softly, and stretched her neck to kiss him again. "I agree."

"I agree." He smiled as his eyes drooped. "I really have to sleep."

She was surprised he had lasted as long as he had. "Okay."

Tony closed his eyes, and Ziva had to wonder how much of the conversation he would remember in the morning. She suspected not much, or at least not the details of it. Perhaps the general gist. And the jellyfish. She smiled and stroked his cheek.

"Can you do me a solid and make sure the jellyfish doesn't come back?" Tony murmured to her.

His eyes were still closed, so Ziva let go of her broad smile. God, she wished she had recorded this as Borin had done. "I promise I have your back."

He smirked with satisfaction. "Yeah, kick ass ninja," he drawled.

Ziva chuckled and brushed a final kiss against his lips. Her stomach tightened, but she pushed out the words that were always just on the verge of passing her lips. "I love you."

Tony sighed sleepily and snuggled towards her. "Jellyfish ninja."

Ziva rolled her eyes to herself, but honestly she liked the way his odd little brain worked, whether concussed and under the influence of prescription drugs or not. Either way, he made her happy, and once he was awake again and fully lucid, she'd tell him so. It was not news to her, but after spending time with the Paulsons and Roses it was crystal clear to her how lucky she was to have him, and how lucky she was that he seemed to love her as much as she loved him. It was truly in her best interests to keep him with her for as long as she possibly could. She snuggled in a little closer and let her fingertips stroke his jaw line. After everything they'd been through, she promised herself as she had just promised him that she would never let him go.

The End.

Oh, except canon Ziva totally did let him go

I remain terrible at replying to reviews but hoped you felt my thanks for them by continuing to write. Big thanks to those of you who took the time; that really did help me finish this.