The rain pattered down the glass as he stared out into the darkness. He was leaning back in his chair; his face set hard, brazen cheekbones creating shadows in his now hollow and withdrawn cheeks. From a fleeting glance, no feeling cut through his stony expression until you noticed the eyes. The closer you looked, deep into those pools of glittering soul, the more of the crippling pain that he was feeling showed through. Every ounce of his body tired with the ache of remembering; every ounce trying so hard to block everything out.

"Tony?" Silence.

The room was shrouded in darkness; a black cloak lain over the world NCIS. The woman's voice did nothing to stir the man from waking. Not even a minute movement to acknowledge her presence.

She tried hopelessly again, "Tony?" Silence still.

She moved closer and closer, edging her way towards the broken man. His silhouette was outlined by the image of the city below, beaming up through the large panes of glass in front of him. His shoulders drooped, and his body sunk low in his chair. His hands gripped the arms of the chair and the veins stood out, vigorously pumping away, unaware of the emotional pain the man was struggling to bear. The woman reached the figure and lifted a delicate, gentle hand softly onto his shoulder, massaging in the care and love she held for him. Her heart beat fast and she could feel the blood flowing furiously through her ears. Her face was tender, willing him to talk to her and let out his emotions; any emotion.

She squeezed harder on his shoulder, "It wasn't your fault."

Tony tensed and slammed his fist down on the arm of the chair. He swung round on his chair, pulling himself from Ziva's grip.

"What d'ya mean, it wasn't my fault?" he shouted loudly, a large vein throbbing in the middle of his forehead. "Of course it was my fault!"

"You didn't know it was him," she said quietly, trying to calm Tony down. Tony stood up quickly, anger emanating from him, and Ziva stepped back.

"It was a stupid disguise," he said bitterly, a small amount of spit flying in Ziva's direction. She ignored it and stared back at him, waiting out his anger. "A probie could have seen through it," he said. Ziva could see the look of disgust on his face as he sat back down slowly. He leaned over and put his head between his legs, his hands ruffling through his chocolate brown hair. Ziva knelt down in front of him and put a hand to the side of his face, her heart going out to him.

"Tony, it wasn't your fault, you have to believe that," she said in earnest, but to no avail. Tony didn't reply. Instead Ziva was confronted with a sobbing middle-aged man. His hands covered his tearstained face but he couldn't disguise the broken cries. Ziva crumbled and raised her other hand to his face, pulling him closer to her so that their foreheads touched.

"Tony, please. You didn't know."

Tony continued to let out long sobs and his body began to shake. Ziva clutched his head to her breast and held him in her arms, comforting his trembling body. She rocked back and forth, calming him so that the cries now became whimpers. She didn't let him go, even when it had stopped completely, still holding him, still rocking him. They stayed like that for a long time; Ziva supporting him, consoling him. He finally pulled away, but only a small distance. He looked up, their faces inches apart, Ziva's hand now steady at the base of his neck.

"If he…"

"He won't," Ziva said, unwilling to let him finish that sentence.

"But…"

"He won't." she repeated firmly, her eyes looking deep into his eyes, convincing him nothing was going to happen. They remained like that, looking into each other's eyes, both of them trying to gain some sense of strength and security.

"Thank you."

Ziva was taken aback and she gave him a confused look. "What for? I didn't do anything."

Tony raised his hands and placed them on her shoulders, looking deeper still into her eyes. "Just you being here, it's…comforting," he said, choosing his words carefully.

"You are my friend. I will always be there to…comfort you," she replied.

"Thank you," he repeated and an awkward silence crept in. Still just inches away from each other, Tony could feel her body heat radiating from her, tickling the surface of his skin. He slipped his hands down her back to rest on her waist and the look in his eyes changed. Ziva noticed this and she dropped from his gaze, pulling away slightly.

"You should go home, Tony," she said quietly. Tony pulled her closer into his, forcing her to look up again, their lips barely missing each other.

"What if I don't want to go home?" he asked, the intent plain in his voice.

Ziva looked at him for a few seconds, clearly entertaining the idea, her eyes full of her longing for the man staring back. Tony saw the look in her eyes and leaned forwards. His lips brushed against hers sending a wave of electricity across his stomach. He was so close, yet so far as he felt her pull out of his grip. She stood up and backed away, her voice trembling ever so slightly as she spoke.

"Well, I'm going home; I think you should do the same," she turned and walked away, feeling the burn of his eyes on her back. As she stepped into the elevator and looked at Tony from across the room, she saw a sadness displayed in his face and she felt sick. She'd been waiting for that moment for a long time and when it finally came…

The metal doors closed and Tony sighed deeply. He leaned back in the chair and spun it round to face the great glass windows. He stared out onto the streets below and felt a great sorrow at what had just happened. Or rather hadn't happened. Tiredness suddenly hit him and his eyelids drooped. Tony let them close and his thoughts went over everything that had happened that day. He prepared for the nightmare to begin; today had not been good.

As the doors closed in front of her Ziva closed her eyes, her hand hung trembling by her side. She used her other one to still it and opened her eyes slowly. They were glossy with tears and her mouth wobbled slightly. The luminous numbers above the door were descending closer and closer to G, and she hastily blinked away her tears, furious at herself for letting them be there in the first place. She shook herself and looked forwards as the bell dinged and the doors reopened, smiling faintly at the man passing her to get in the elevator.

***

As deep sleep drew in, Tony's breathing became heavier and his eyelids twitched. He fidgeted desperately as his body tried to cope with the horror that was happening beneath the surface.

"Tony, you take front," Gibbs said gruffly, "McGee on back; Ziva inside."

"On it Boss," came the replies from the three agents.

"Any sign of this man entering, or trying to enter the building and you take him down and you tell me, okay?"

"What will you be doing?" Ziva asked quietly.

"I will be inside with the director."

"Don't worry, Boss, nothing will happen to the director. We're gonna get this guy," Tony said; his voice dripped with confidence.

Tony's body shifted in the seat as the memories from earlier that night immerged within him, cold sweat condensing on his forehead. He moaned slightly but then returned to his silent nightmare.

"McGee?" Tony said into the com, squirming in his smart attire. He didn't like wearing these kind of clothes; they reminded him too much of his family.

The com crackled into life and McGee answered, "Yes?"

"Any sign of him yet?"

"None here at the back, what about at the front?"

"Nope, no sign of him here either."

"Do you reckon he's still gonna try and do it tonight?"

"I don't know, Probie, but if he does try anything we will be ready for him." Tony reattached the com to his side and returned to scouting the incoming crowd for the suspect. They'd been after this guy for months, and they'd received a tip off earlier that day informing them of his plans for tonight. All they knew, or at least all Tony had been told, was that the man was an assassin employed by anyone for the right price, and his hit list had included an impressive amount of head figures. His success rate was sickeningly high, and the only good picture they had of him was from when he was in the SAS. After he dropped out, he fell from all radars except from the line of bodies he left behind. And now he was after Jenny.

As Tony scoured the crowd of smartly dressed people waiting to enter the building, his eyes came into contact with a beautiful woman. There was definitely some amount of Latino in her, her dark hair curling past her shoulders and bouncing lightly as she walked. She noticed Tony's gaze and smiled deeply, her eyes sparkling and inviting. Tony gave her the famous DiNozzo smile back, and nodded to her as she came near the entrance. He now saw that her arm was draped over a man standing next to her. The man was smartly dressed and his mouth was taught and unsmiling. Tony cringed slightly at the bad goatee this man was sporting but smiled anyway, hiding his mild humour at the man's appearance. As the couple past Tony, he looked once again at the woman and he succeeded in locking eyes with her. He smiled, and his eyes let her know his intent to which she reciprocated through her soft expression. She turned from him as she walked into the building and went about mingling with the guests already inside. Tony looked back to the front and went back to looking for the assassin. After this mission was over, he was going to get her number.

Tony, was now violently twitching in his seat as he remembered McGee's panicked voice as he reached Tony through the com. Beads of sweat had now formed on his forehead and his clothes were damp; his body hot and jerking feverishly.

"Tony!"

"What is it, McGee?"

"Ziva has just told me that he's already inside!"

Tony paled, "What? How can he be? We've been here all night."

"He obviously got past us."

"You mean got past you," Tony said icily. "Ok move inside Probie, I'll move in from the front. We are gonna get this guy before he does something he will regret."

Tony entered the building through the entrance he had seen so many people use that night, his hand tightly gripped on his holster. As he entered the great hall he spotted Gibbs in the distance. He'd taken Jenny to the side of the room and, from the looks of it, was failing in trying to convince her not to do her speech. Tony sighed and continued to look over the crowd, trying to identify Ziva. He saw McGee enter the room from the other side and frantically try to do the same thing. Tony was still struggling to pick out Ziva when Jenny stepped up to the stand. Gibbs face was tight and a look of hard worry was plastered all over it. Tony swallowed hard and watched as she lowered her mouth to the microphone.

"Hello and welcome to everyone here," she started off clearly and happily. "Thank you so much for coming today to celebrate with me and the rest of NCIS to congratulate Director General John Trimmer in his retirement." She beamed broadly and Tony finally laid eyes on Ziva. Her eyes were wide as she motioned her head towards the bar. A loud applause rang out as Tony looked over and his mouth went dry as he saw a Latino woman with long dark hair standing at the bar. Her face was pale as she watched the man with her take out a gun. Everybody was too busy clapping and smiling to notice that this man had a gun out and Tony threw himself into the crowd. He saw McGee the other side doing the same thing. As he pushed his way through the mass of tightly packed bodies he looked over his shoulder and saw Gibbs moving quickly towards Jenny, Ziva had obviously got his attention as well. Tony went cold as he heard a gunshot ring over the sound of the applause, and he started pushing people violently to the side in his effort to reach the shooter. More shots rang out as he came near to the bar, but by the time he reached it the man had disappeared. His head jerked from side to side as he tried to locate the shooter. His attention came to a woman collapsed on the floor, her dark hair falling across her face as she lay. Tony knelt down beside her and lifted her head up. A red mark burrowed deep into her chest, and a dark red liquid was seeping into her beautiful dress.

She looked up at Tony and the life faded from her eyes, "I tried to stop him…I'm sorry…"

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but shut it again as he saw her eyes go cold. He laid her back on the floor sorrowfully and looked up in time to see McGee reach the bar.

"Tony? What happened?"

"I don't know; how is the director?"

"I can't see; there are too many people here."

"We need to find him, McGee, you saw what he looked like didn't you?"

"Well yes…"

"Spread out, he's not getting away," Tony said, his voice null of emotion. He's only purpose right at that moment was to find that man.

***

Tony watched in horror as the bodies parted and he saw the figure lying on the middle of the floor. The crisp dinner jacket the man was wearing was now wide open, revealing a dark red stain colouring the front of the shirt underneath. Tony stood frozen with terror as the man writhed in agony. A woman was bent over him, her hands desperately trying to stem the flow of blood seeping from the bullet wound. Her face was white, but she held a determined expression. The roar from the surrounding crowd was silenced from Tony, as the sound of his own heartbeat deafened him. Staring at the scene before him, he was rooted to the spot, unable to move. The world spinning past him in one big blur, except for the picture of his boss lying on the floor in front of him. He was suddenly jolted as a man pushed to get past him on his way towards the exit, and Tony was brought back to reality. He shot into action, running forwards and putting a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"What happened?" he said quietly, his voice barely making it past his lips.

"He was…he jumped in front of me and…," she replied, her own voice quiet and close to breaking. Tony tightened his grip and the woman swallowed hard, taking strength from the man supporting her. "Special Agent Gibbs has received a bullet to the chest. I've tried to stop the bleeding but…," this time her voice gave way and she swayed a little under Tony's hold. He bent down and gently but quickly removed her hands from Gibbs torso, replacing them with his own.

"Let me try," he said and Director Jennifer Shepard obeyed his order, moving backwards out of the way. She sat down on the floor, slowly rocking herself backwards and forwards.

Tony turned his attention to his wounded superior. "Boss?" Tony said firmly, "Don't worry, we're gonna get you out of here. You'll be fine."

Gibbs groaned and Tony couldn't stifle the smile that came from the words that exited Gibbs mouth. "You're not getting rid of me that easily DiNozzo."

Tony looked up and saw a team of paramedics rushing towards them. "Don't worry Boss, the cavalry's on its way," said Tony smiling, but as he looked down the smile faded. As he stared into his boss's eyes, the usual intense stare that greeted him had gone. Instead he was confronted by a sort of helplessness; similar to that of a small child, and that unsettled him.

Tony's stomach tightened horribly as he saw the pain in the eyes of the man who lay at the end of his hands. He pushed his hands further into Gibbs's chest in an effort to stem the flow of blood, but the red liquid flowed over his hands effortlessly. The paramedics arrived and dropped to the floor, pushing Tony aside.

Tony sat overwhelmed on the floor next to his Boss and stared forcefully into his eyes, willing him not to give up. Gibbs stared back, unable to voice his thoughts; but a thankful warmness showed somewhere in the depths of his startling blue eyes. Tony's eyes glazed over slightly with tears, but he furiously blinked them away, frantic not to lose the gaze of his Boss.

As the paramedics worked on his body, Gibbs eyelids slowly started to droop and Tony did the one thing he could think of to keep the light from going out in the man's eyes. He reached forwards grabbing his outlaid hand with his own, clenching it tightly within his grasp. The man looked back, appreciation streaming from his eyes at the gesture. He gripped Tony's hand hard as pain struck his face. He closed his eyes and his mouth grimaced as he gave in to the unspeakable pain flooding his body, and his body fell limp. Tony refused to let go as he felt Gibbs's hand go loose in his own.

"No!" he cried out, but nobody heard him, busy with their own jobs of sustaining the life of the man before them. Tony now let the tears that he had previously tried so hard to hold back fall thick and fast. The room swam out of focus as grief took hold of him, and his body shook uncontrollably.

"No…no…NOOOOOOOO!"

***

The familiar ding of the elevator rang out and the man exited onto the NCIS floor. Tony lay in his chair, fidgeting every now and then as the painful memories hit him, each one a stab wound to his heart.

The man silently walked across the floor, hidden by the shadows at the edge of the room. Tony was seated in front of the great glass windows looking down on the town, completely unaware of the figure nearing him.

The man drew closer and closer to Tony, and was now so close that he could have touched him. He stopped short and leaned in close to the sleeping body of Tony. Tony let out a long howl as his body tensed in grief, but did not awake from his terrible slumber. The man leering over him hesitated, his face inches away from Tony's. He raised his hand to Tony's throat, barely touching it. His eyes were dark and menacing, willing him on for the kill. The growl from a passing car on the streets below brought the man back from his fantasy and he slowly moved away from the sleeping Tony. He flexed his hand slightly, calming it from the unnerving twitch it now had. He was on a mission and he wouldn't become sloppy. The man left the room, heading for the stairs at the other end and Tony slept on, completely unaware of what had just happened.

***

The man glided past the empty receptionist desk and opened the door to the office. Moving quickly, he walked over to a nearby plant pot and reached his hands into its leaves. He pulled out a small black object and pocketed it in his jacket. He continued over to the table in the middle of the room and reached underneath it, removing a second identical black object. Finally he walked over to the desk itself that stood to one side and from the underside of the back of the monitor sitting on the desk removed yet another identical small black object. He'd done what he had come for and he allowed himself a small smile. Another mission successfully accomplished. Or at least almost complete, there was still the obstacle of the sleeping man on the floor below him. He walked out to the balcony and looked down; the man was still in a deep sleep, albeit a turbulent one. The man silently and quickly moved down the stairs and past the man in the chair, his right hand twitching ever so slightly as he did so. But the man had taught himself the self-control needed to be good at his job and he walked straight past, leaving the room without a trace of him ever setting foot there. The lift descended and the man left the building, leaving Tony shifting in his seat, completely oblivious of the events that just happened right underneath his nose.

***

When Ziva ventured out onto the NCIS floor, light beamed in from the huge glass windows, illuminating the empty chair in the middle of the floor. It was early in the morning, so everything was tinted with a slightly eerie reddish glow. She walked forwards glancing around for any sign of Tony, and dumped her bag on her desk. The room was in silence and Tony was nowhere to be seen. Ziva let out a long sigh and sat down behind her desk. She leaned forwards and rested her forehead on her folded arms. Yesterday had been a heck of a day. She'd been prepared for missions like that all her life; hell, she'd grown up seeing them everyday. She'd seen far worse things in her life, but not with him involved. She closed her eyes as she remembered his body falling to the floor, a fresh bullet burrowed into his chest. She had wanted to run to him, straight up to him and to catch him as he fell backwards into Director Shepard's trembling arms. But she'd had a mission. To find the man that shot that bullet, and she was damned if she was going to fail Gibbs. Ziva thumped her head a couple of times into her arms, mentally beating herself. That's exactly what she had done; fail Gibbs. She and McGee had run straight after the man as he made his escape, but in all the commotion and the squash of terrified people, he had gotten away.

"Oh Jethro…" she sighed, her voice becoming unstable and rocky.

"Jethro?" came a voice from near her, "So when did you two become so close?"

Ziva whipped her head up from where she had been huddled, blinking quickly to remove the tiniest trace of moisture that had crept there a second ago. "I meant Gibbs, Tony. Where have you been?"

Tony lifted his arms to reveal a two fresh cups of coffee. "I bought two, one for me and one for…"

"Gibbs." Ziva answered, knowing the answer.

"Out of habit I suppose…how is he?" said Tony anxiously, his face tight and deep with concern.

"Stable at the moment, but not good," Ziva said, her words somewhat happier than she had expected them to sound. She was just relieved that he was alive. Tony appeared to take the same stance and looked calmer now; not happy, but comforted now that he was reassured that Gibbs was hanging onto life.

"Well, we knew that Gibbs wouldn't let a bullet stop him, he'll outlive us all just to make sure we don't break any of his stupid rules," Tony said, a pang of grief evident as he spoke the words.

"I never know which rule is which number, apart from…"

"Rule twelve," they said in unison. They looked at each other, and for the briefest moment something flashed between them as they both remembered that moment last night. Ziva was the first to look away, unable to bring her self to relive it. Tony took her lead and quickly moved on from the unsaid subject.

"What exactly did happen last night? I mean I saw him lying on the floor but apart from that…" Tony began sombrely.

"Well, I spoke with Director Shepard after it all happened and she said that he jumped in front of her. He saw me signal to him that the gunman was over by the bar and he must have seen him withdraw the gun."

"Gibbs never misses a thing," Tony said fondly.

Ziva smiled, "I've never known him to."

"Nope," said Tony quietly, "not a thing. Never." He walked over to his chair in the middle of the floor and wheeled it back behind his desk before sinking himself down into it. Silence fell as both of them went through the disastrous actions of last night, and how Gibbs had come to be shot.

***

When McGee set foot in the bullpen, the silence was almost deafening. His body tensed as he walked over to his desk and sat down, placing his bag on the desktop. He opened his mouth to say something, but his reluctant throat refused to break the silence. The uncomfortable air around him seemed to stifle any sound that came out, and the result was McGee opening and shutting his mouth like a goldfish. Tony seemed to notice this amusing action and the silence was broken.

"Practicing kissing Abby then, Probie?" he joked. The joke sounded almost forced; the words were Tony's usual style, but the way he said it lacked his customary childish attitude, his eyes remaining cold and hard. Nobody challenged him about it; they all knew what he was going through, what they were all going through.

"No," McGee said, his cheeks tinged with the slightest bit of colour.

"Well, if you kiss like that, then it's no wonder Abby still doesn't want to date you," Tony said, surprising himself when he laced the words with spite and malice.

"Don't take it out on McGee, Tony." Ziva said in a quiet monotone that was uncharacteristic of the Ziva they had all come to know and like.

"Take what out, Ziva? Tell me, precisely what can't I take out on Probie?" Tony asked, temper rising in his voice.

"We all feel bad over what happened to Gibbs, but we need to stick together as a team," Ziva said, her tone hardening against Tony's angry voice.

"Oh, so you feel ‘bad' do you? We are all supposed to feel ‘bad'?" Tony asked, blood rushing to his face.

"I didn't mean…" Ziva began

"Well you haven't been here that long, you're not as close to Gibbs as we are. So while you feel ‘bad', we might be feeling slightly more than that," Tony spat at Ziva. Ziva's face blanched and the hurt at what Tony had just said shone through in her eyes. She rose from her seat without saying a word and rushed from the bullpen. A pang of guilt hit Tony's heart as he realized the full effect of the words that had just exited his mouth. He fell silent and looked at the floor as he sank into his chair.

"That was uncalled for Tony," McGee said quietly, "She may not have been here as long as we have but we all feel the same. I haven't even been here as long as…" Tony looked up and attempted to say something but McGee didn't let him, "as long as you, but I'd like to feel that I'm part of this team as much as you are."

"You are, we all are…I didn't mean…"

"Well, then, why did you say it, Tony?"

"I don't know…I didn't think…"

"You need to apologize to her," McGee said quietly, some of the earlier strength draining from his voice as he had said his peace.

"I will…why haven't you gone off with her…and left me on my own?"

"I'm your friend Tony, and I will always be here for you, but that doesn't mean I won't be Ziva's as well."

Tony looked at McGee and gratitude filled his gleaming eyes. Tony paused slightly before saying his next words, "Thank you."

McGee nodded his head silently before standing up and walking to the edge of the bullpen. "I'm going to find Abby; I don't know where Ziva would be…" McGee said as he exited the floor via the elevator.

Tony sighed deeply before jumping up and grabbing his coat. ‘What happened to Gibbs may have been his fault, but there was no way he should have taken it out on her like that.'

***

Tony trudged up the corridor sighing. He'd been searching for Ziva for close to half an hour now and had still come up with a big fat nothing. The building was pretty much deserted apart from the odd janitor here and there, but that didn't surprise him; it was, after all, only 7.30 in the morning. Even here at NCIS, close to Gibbs desk, close to where he sat, close to him; Tony hadn't been able to get any sleep. By the early arrival of the others he got the feeling they had had the same problem as well.

Tony let out another huge sigh and dragged his feet, seriously thinking of giving up the search, when he heard an almost silent scuffle from behind one of the doors. Tony looked up to find a small plastic, white figure of a woman nailed to the front of the door.

"Got ya…" Tony whispered under his breath. He slowly opened the door, trying desperately to creep into the room unheard, however somebody thought otherwise as the hinges gave out a huge groan as the door creaked open. The figure inside whipped around from the facing the mirror and levelled a gun in Tony's direction.

"NCIS, Freeze!" cried out a familiar voice, although rather more hoarsely than usual. Ziva had obviously been crying.

Tony froze and from behind the door threw his hands forward so Ziva would know he was unarmed.

"Show yourself!"

Tony walked out from behind the door, keeping his hands visible, and gave a weak smile as Ziva relaxed slightly.

"What are you doing here Tony? I believe this is the woman's bathroom? So unless you've decided to go in for some drastic surgery…"

"Er Ziva, would you mind?" Tony said, nodding his head to gun still pointing at his chest.

"Oh," Ziva said, almost surprised to see she was still holding it like that. She lowered the gun; a little slower than Tony would have preferred, but still lowered to face the floor.

"Look Ziva…" Tony began, not quite knowing what to say after his pathetic entrance.

"You are not meant to be in here, Tony." Ziva said, reholstering her gun and turning to face the mirror. After the adrenaline of the intrusion into the bathroom, Ziva had realized what she must have looked like, and now tried to hide her face from Tony.

"Have you been crying?" Tony asked quietly and carefully, but still standing far out of her reach.

"No!" Ziva said a little too strongly.

Tony paused some before taking a step forward and starting again, "I didn't mean…"

"Yes you did, and you're right Tony; I have not known him for that long; I have not known you for that long. I have no right…"

Tony took a big step forward; he was almost within grasping distance now, "Yes you do; I was angry, lashing out…and I was wrong, Ziva, really wrong. You are just as much part of this team as Probie or I are, and I doubt you are feeling any better than either of us…"

Ziva didn't answer but let out a small sob, which she didn't even attempt to stifle.

Tony continued, creeping forward toward Ziva, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it. It was mean and spiteful and it meant nothing," Tony was now inches away from her and he placed one hand on her trembling shoulder. She reacted by turning into him and burying her head in his shoulder, grabbing the front of his shirt tightly in her hands. Tony let out a the huge breath he'd been holding for the last few minutes and wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on hers. He hugged her firmly as she shook violently in his arms. She let out a wail of grief and held on ever tighter to the front of Tony. She began hitting out at him, thumping the front of Tony's chest.

"Why? Why him?" she cried out, punching Tony violently; but he refused to let go, only holding her tighter against him. He held on to her as the beating subsided and the hysterical crying was down to a quiet sobbing.

He buried his lips deep into her hair and kissed her firmly on the top of her head. He inhaled deeply, smelling the aroma he loved. Sometimes when she walked by it would drift over to his desk, daring him to go closely, teasing him. And in the mornings when she entered the elevator with damp hair from her morning shower, Tony's heart would leap as the scent filled the small metallic elevator. He smelled it now, taking in every last second of it before Ziva struggled out of his grip.

She turned away, evidently embarrassed by her show of emotion. Tony moved forwards, still with his hand touching her arm. He pulled her around to face him as she tried to look away and raised his hand, lightly touching the side of her face with his fingers. She flinched slightly and closed her eyes, her body relaxing a little. He stroked the side of her face gently, and softly pulled her head around so that she faced him completely. Still with eyes closed, she began to shudder again, her mouth twisting as she fought to keep the sobs from coming; Tony wouldn't let them, bringing his other arm up and clasping her head in his protective hands.

"Open your eyes, Ziva," he said softly, his voice damp and breathy.

"No…" she sobbed, as she tried to shake her head.

"Open them," Tony repeated in the same way as before.

"No…" she cried again, but this time a little less forcefully.

"Open…" Tony smiled as slowly he was revealed the gift of those wonderfully delicious eyes; deep, dark and alluring. She gazed deep into his eyes to which he happily reciprocated. They stood there, in that position, for what could seem to an outsider forever, but to them it was nothing at all, lost in each others gaze. Each perfectly content to just be looked upon, with such love and affection.

Finally it was Ziva who leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, briefly pausing as she tried in one last attempt to defy her heart and move away. Once her lips touched his, the thought was gone and she wrapped her arms around him hugging him close. Tony pushed his lips into hers and kissed her passionately. Ziva began to sob again but Tony didn't stop, deepening the kiss, smiling as he did so. Ziva fell in his arms, but he held her up, wrapping his arms underneath hers so her hands where forced up and around his neck; but still the kiss continued now hot and intense. Tony's heart leapt and he couldn't contain his happiness, almost letting out a laugh as his lips entwined with hers. The moment had finally come and she was his, and he was never going to let her go.

***

Beep…Beep…Beep…Beep…

The wind rushed through the trees and the branches screeched against the window as they scraped against the cold panes of glass. Rain continued to gush down, and trickling streams of water ran down the glass, twisting and turning on the smooth surface. Outside water flooded the earth, inundating the soil and, every here and there creating tiny mudslides. A woman stood at the window looking out onto the abandoned streets below, her eyes red with a mixture of tiredness, pain and shock. The only sound that could be heard was the pattering of the rain on the window and of course the endless ‘Beep…Beep…Beep…Beep…’

The woman tore herself away from the window and turned around to face a simple, plainly dressed bed. Under a perfectly smoothed sheet a man slept endlessly, his body unmoving, his fingers staying perfectly still. For the first time in her life, Jennifer Shepard couldn’t see the man’s eyes. She could always find solace in those eyes, even when he was angry with her; she could always see deep into those eyes and be comforted. But now those bright blue eyes were hidden from the world by his slumped eyelids, and there was no comfort.

She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, leaning over the man’s body. She spoke gently, and with deep affection, “Jethro? Please say you can here me. The doctors say…the doctors…� She paused slightly, the pain of the words she was about to say shining through in her eyes. She cleared her throat audibly before continuing, steadying herself, strengthening herself. “The doctors say you are in a coma…and that you may not ever wake up. I want you to tell me that’s not true…I need you to tell me that’s not true…I need…you.�

She grabbed his hand tightly in one of her hands, her grip gentle but tight, willing him to clutch her hand back. She used the other hand to gently stoke the side of his face, her head tilting slightly and a smile coming to her lips. “Remember Paris, Jethro? You, me and that city. Those were some of the best times of my life, Jethro, and I will not let you forget them. You are coming back to me, you hear? I will not accept this as your resignation. The Jethro Gibbs I know wouldn’t take the coward’s way out, and I respected him for that. I respect you…I need you…I love…�

The door to the small room crashed open and a young woman burst in quickly, followed by a very red-faced man.

“Director, I…�

“It doesn’t matter, Agent McGee, I understand,� Jen said softly. She had quickly come to her senses and gained her natural demeanor back. The images of Paris were gone and her duty as Director of NCIS was in front of her.

“The nurse said you were in here and I tried to stop…�

“I said it doesn’t matter, McGee, we are all in the same boat here…�

“Gibbs?� came a quite mumble from the young black haired lady. Her body had fallen limp at the sight of her boss in that hospital bed, her shoulders hunched and her clutch back hanging loosely at her side held by a small pale hand. Her eyes filled with tears, which she blinked back furiously.

McGee moved forward and put a hand gently on her shoulder, “Abs?�

She shrugged him off and moved forward toward Gibbs. She moved slowly and in tiny movements, almost scared to go close to the sleeping man. Her hand hung trembling at her side.

McGee turned to Jenny and in a quite voice asked, “What did the doctors say?�

Jenny took a second before answering, “They say he is in a coma, and that they don’t know if he will wake up…the next 48 hours are crucial.�

McGee swallowed hard before turning to look, himself, at Gibbs lying there under the covers, “Yeah, but he woke up last time didn’t he?�

“But he didn’t want to…� came Abby from beside Gibbs. She had now reached the bed and she stood looking down at him. “He didn’t want to wake up; he was with them…�

“Who?� McGee answered. Jen just kept quiet, her face hardening as she tried to shield her thoughts from what Abby was talking about.

“Them…Shannon and Kelly…his family…� Abby said.

“He wasn’t actually with them though, was he?�

“Whether in mind or in body it doesn’t matter, McGee… His heart was with them…and not with us.� Abby replied.

“Yeah, but…he’ll come back… He has to… he’s Gibbs.� McGee said, but his own doubts shone through in his voice.

“Would you?� Abby asked, turning to face McGee. “If you had found your true happiness, only to have it taken away… wouldn’t you give anything to have it back?�

“That’s different…� he started.

“How?� Abby challenged. McGee kept quite his face glum as he searched for an answer he did not have.

“I would,� Jen said from the corner of the bed. She looked over to Gibbs and images flashed in front of her…

A man and a red headed woman sat on the balcony laughing together…his arm around her waist, holding her close.

The same couple this time laying on a bed, the man dipping a strawberry in chocolate and bringing it up to her mouth, daring her to bite it.

The man, this time pouring champagne into to glasses and bringing them over to the bath, where the woman was already enjoying the hot bubbly water.

Both of them under the covers, sweat soaking into the sheets as they moved together. She moaned in pleasure as he pushed himself inside her, never taking his eyes from hers as they made love.

Jen’s eyes sharpened as she brought her self back to the present, “If I could go back to when I was truly happy, I would.�

All three of them looked on as Gibbs slept soundly in his bed. Each of them silent and alone with their own thoughts, hopes and fears. The only sound echoing out into the dark room was the steady mechanical sound, ‘Beep…Beep…Beep…Beep…’

***