"I need to have a shower," Ziva announced as they walked into her place that night. She wasn't sure why her partner was following her around, but it hadn't yet annoyed her enough that she wanted to make him leave.

"Need some help with that?" Tony asked with a grin, sounding far too pleased about the prospect.

Ziva glared at him. "I will kill you-"

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Twelve different ways with your curling iron or twenty ways with the nearest turkey baster or thirty-five ways with your bare hands." Tony made a gesture of surrender. "I get it, you don't want my help."

Frowning because she wondered why he sounded discouraged, Ziva headed down the hall. "I may be awhile."

Tony shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, okay, I'll start dinner. What do you feel like?"

Ziva tilted her head, considering the question. "Soup. There is some in the freezer, it just needs to be thawed."

"On it," he smiled.

Grabbing what she needed from her room, Ziva entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her. At first she just looked at herself, then sighed and began the laborious task of undressing. She refused to let Tony help this time, it would just be begging for trouble.

Starting with the clip at her neck, Ziva eased the sling off. She needed her teeth for the shirt and fumbled with the button on her pants, but finally got it. Her bra was the hardest so Ziva took the straps off and eased it down, turning the clasp around to the front where it was easier to manipulate.

Finally undressed, Ziva turned on the water hot, twisted her hair up in a clip and got in. The spray felt delicious on her skin after two days. For a long time she just stood there and let the water stream over her, the steam filling up the stall relaxing, but eventually she had to get on with it. Even with her fingers taped together and a sore arm, Ziva managed to wash herself and shave. By the time she got out, she felt clean and human again.

Wrapped in a towel, she glanced in the mirror again and sighed. She still needed help. Opening the door, Ziva stuck her head out. "Tony?"

He stepped into the hall. "Yeah?"

She bit her lip. "Can you do me a favour?"

"Anything," her partner declared, moving forward. "What's up?"

Ziva frowned. "I cannot wash my hair."

The request dawned on him and Tony grinned. "At your service, m'lady."

She rolled her eyes and backed into the room. A towel lay folded on the edge of the tub, her favourite orange citrus shampoo beside it. Ziva knelt down and waited. Getting on his knees next to her, Tony reached for the shower head and tested the temperature. He turned her head to the side and began to wet her thick hair.

Ziva closed her eyes as he got the shampoo in his hand, relaxing when Tony's fingers began massaging her head. After working it into her hair, Tony rinsed it out and moved on to conditioner, sliding his fingers through the wet silky waves. "I could get used to this," Ziva murmured and Tony agreed. But he settled for something less personal.

"I saw this in a Bourne movie once."

Ziva opened one eye to look at him, enjoying the feel of the hot water washing away the rest of the conditioner. Her hair finally felt clean. "And how did it end?" she asked, wondering how it was that he had a movie scene for every moment.

Tony swallowed and reached for a towel to wrap her damp hair in, realizing too late that he'd chosen the wrong memory. Rubbing the excess water out, he tried to keep his tone light and didn't look at her. "With a kiss."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "You should be so lucky."

He focused his gaze on her hair, trying to dry it a little more, giving himself an excuse to remain close to her. "What are my chances?"

It was too soon to take him seriously, so Ziva pretended she hadn't noticed the tone in his voice. "In your dreams Anthony."

"Yeah," Tony said under his breath, "sometimes." Then he covered with a grin. "So, where's that first aid kit? I think your bandage needs changing."

Accepting that it was better this way, not letting things get too personal, Ziva sat on a stool and waited, knowing Tony was right. She hadn't let him look at it this morning. When he came back, Tony motioned for her to sit on the counter instead, so he could stand in front of her.

Unwinding the damp gauze, he gently touched the outer edges of her wound. She watched passively, determined not to show weakness this time. "No sign of infection," Tony commented, reaching for the salve Ducky had insisted she use. He put on a thinner layer than last night and re-wrapped the graze with a clean, dry bandage. "There," he smiled, "all good to go."

This was the moment he should've taken a step back and let her get down. But instead Tony threaded his fingers into her damp wavy hair, letting them trail down her uninjured arm and picked up her right hand. He frowned at the soggy tape that was getting close to falling off. Ziva had refused the splint, saying it looked ridiculous and was completely unnecessary, so the doctors had settled for taping her middle and ring fingers together firmly in two different places.

Turning her hand over, Tony reached for the roll of bandage tape he'd seen earlier in Ziva's first aid case. Being as gentle as he could, Tony pulled the end of the tape free and took it off slowly. He winced in sympathy at the dark bruising on her ring finger. Resisting the sudden and probably deadly urge he had to kiss it better, Tony wrapped fresh tape around the top part of Ziva's fingers before taking off the second piece of old tape and doing the same thing.

Ziva held very still for the whole procedure, hardly daring to breathe. Tony was so close and he was looking at her so...differently. She wasn't sure what to make of it. She could have easily broken his wrist when he drew his fingers through her hair, but it felt so nice to be touched that way. With Tony holding her hand, Ziva was having a hard time concentrating, so she pulled away and pushed him back gently so she could stand up.

"Well, I guess I should go put on something more than just a towel, yes?"

Tony's gaze flickered down her body and back up. "Do you have to? Because I think-"

Whatever he was about to say got cut off when Ziva's elbow collided with his stomach. He bent over with a groan to try and catch his breath and she walked away smirking. It was much easier to deal with Tony being Tony. When he started acting like at grown up, that's when it got dangerous.

NCIS

Friday Director Shepard did not show up to work on time because Jenny was having a crisis. Cynthia received a terse phone call from Agent Gibbs at 0700 instructing her to reschedule any morning appointments and not to expect her boss in until lunch time. Then he hung up before she could say a word.

Similarly, Tony answered the phone to Gibbs' gruff, "You're in charge until I get there DiNozzo," with no other explanation. By the time the team gathered in the squadroom at 0800, because there was no point in showing up early when they couldn't work cases from anywhere except their desks, everyone was very curious and a little concerned.

It had all started at 0645 after Jenny got out of the shower. She allowed her husband to steal a few kisses before pulling a smart looking navy pantsuit from the closet. Disappearing into the bathroom because she teased that Gibbs was too easily distracted, she shed the towel and started the process of getting dressed.

Then the moment Gibbs knew was coming happened and he heard her frantic exclamation through the partially closed door. "No no no no no. Dang it!"

Alarmed, he sat up, threw off the covers and hurried over. "Jen? Are you okay?"

The door was slammed in his face but Gibbs could still make out Jenny's voice as she slipped back into her long ago habit of talking to herself. "What am I going to do? This is awful. I guess I knew it would happen sometime, but why now? I have to get ready, I have to go to work. This is not the time for things not to work! Ohhhh."

A noise that could only be Jenny throwing something against the wall, probably her hairbrush from the clatter, made Gibbs abandon caution to enter the room. Jenny stood in the middle of the floor in her bra and underwear, arms crossed as she glared at the pants lying in a puddle beside the tub.

"Jen, honey?" Gibbs asked. "What's wrong?"

Jenny huffed and pressed her lips into a thin line. "I can't get the button on my pants done up."

If it had been anyone else upset by something so minor, Gibbs would've snorted, glared or headslapped them. But this was his wife and even if it had been almost four months, a change like this was just one more thing she had to deal with. Gibbs hated it, but the reality was that Jenny had lost her confidence in being a beautiful, desirable woman after the rape.

Because of the scars, because of her fears, because of the memories, Jenny was self-conscious about her appearance. Having always been slim, the idea of her body growing even if it was for the best reasons, was still something they were working on.

First things first, Gibbs walked over and pulled Jenny into a hug. She refused to relax, holding herself stiff against him, but Gibbs could be patient. He let his fingers trail through her damp hair, smoothed his hand over her back, and rubbed little circles into the base of her neck like they had all the time in the world.

Unfortunately though, that was still a place she couldn't always be touched and Gibbs felt Jenny's heartrate speed up, could hear her breathing coming faster - flashback symptoms. Moving slowly, he repositioned his hand at her waist and bent his head close to hers.

"It's okay Jenny, it's okay. No one's gonna hurt you. I'm sorry."

He'd apologized more in the last few months than ever before, and just hearing the words caused Jenny's resistance to melt away. She pressed herself into him, her arms finding a home around his waist as she buried her face in his shirt.

Jenny wanted to tell her husband without words that she was tired of it too, all the after effects of rape that followed her. But she didn't have the words and against her will, tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. Gibbs held his wife while she cried, mourning something she couldn't even put a name to, before helping her into her robe and sending her downstairs so Noemi could spoil her with a big breakfast. The housekeeper was thrilled to see Jenny's appetite coming back and spent hours in the kitchen trying to tempt her into eating more.

As soon as she left the room, Gibbs grabbed his cell and made the first two calls to get work covered. The last one was a long shot, but he could hope. It rang three times before a sleepy voice came on the line. "Hi, you've reached Rachel. I'm not very awake right now, so I hope you're either my mom or my best friend."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Best friend's husband count?"

Rachel sat up. "Jethro? What's wrong?"

He sighed. "Got a situation. Can you take a personal day?"

She checked her watch. "Don't have to, it's Friday."

Gibbs pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it in confusion for a minute. "You work on Fridays Rachel."

Rachel smiled. "Yes, but once a month I get Friday off and today is one of those days."

He let out a breath. "Good."

She waited a beat. "So, are you going to tell me why you're waking me up on a morning when my alarm clock is set for 0900 instead of 07?"

"Jenny's eighteen weeks and she finally can't fit into her regular clothes. I need you to take her shopping for the kind of maternity clothes that will make her feel good about herself."

"I'll be there in half an hour," Rachel promised. For a second there was silence and Gibbs thought she'd hung up. Then her voice said softly, "Thanks for calling Jethro."

A few minutes later Gibbs joined Jenny and Noemi downstairs and the couple shared a leisurely breakfast in hopes of distracting Jenny from the crisis at hand. Forty minutes later Rachel blew in the front door, much to Jenny's surprise and Gibbs' relief.

"Still in your bathrobe at 0750 Red?" Rachel teased. "My, my, someone is getting lazy."

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "You're late leaving for work Pollyanna."

"Day off," Rachel said, hopping up to sit on the counter. "And you and I are going to practice some mall therapy."

Shooting a look at her husband that accused him of being a tattletale, Jenny sighed. "Directors can't play hooky Rach, it doesn't work that way." She glanced at her watch. "I should've been at NCIS twenty minutes ago."

Rachel cut her eyes to Gibbs and he took a sip of coffee. "Your schedule is clear until noon."

Before Jenny could start in on him if that had been her plan, Rachel jumped down, grabbed Jenny's hand and dragged her towards the stairs. "Come on, we need to get you dressed."

Jenny balked. "Nothing fits Rachel."

"Yoga pants and one of those long sleeved shirts you have is plenty acceptable for the mall, especially since we're going clothes shopping anyways." It looked like Jenny was going to be stubborn as she clenched her fists and narrowed her gaze. Rachel crossed her arms, preparing to do battle. "I've worked in day care, camps, and with special needs kids. Do you have any idea how many annoying kids' songs I know?"

Jenny eyed her. "You wouldn't."

The smile Rachel gave her was anything but reassuring. "I can sit here and sing them as long as you can take them." When Jenny didn't move, she opened her mouth. "It is the song that never en-"

"Stop!" Jenny covered her friend's mouth. "I give. Let's go."

A gleeful look filled Rachel's face. "Yes ma'am."

On their way out the door Gibbs slipped his credit card into Rachel's hand. Then he kissed Jenny goodbye. "Have fun."

She glanced warily at her best friend. "It's going to be an experience, that's for sure."

Rachel was already out the door and dancing around in the snowflakes that fell softly down. "Come on Jen! You're missing it."

Jenny smiled. "You ever get the feeling we're looking at Abby in about fifteen years?"

Gibbs considered this and finally nodded. "Minus the black." He chuckled. "I can't wait until those two meet."

Jenny put her hand on his arm. "One thing at a time Jethro."

He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. "Whatever you say Jen."

She grinned. "Be careful. I still have a shot at winning the bet."

Gibbs shook his head. "See you later."

"Love you too."

"Always," he promised, waving at Rachel. "Drive safe."

Rachel's hands flew to her hips. "I'm a great driver."

"Time to go Rach," Jenny encouraged. Once they got going, Gibbs and Rachel really did start to sound like siblings.

Gibbs watched the women drive off and slowly closed the door. He knew Jenny was in good hands. Being with Rachel was enough to distract anyone out of a bad mood or anything else. Smirking, he turned around. Wait until Meredith heard the news this weekend, there wouldn't be enough hugs to cover her excitement.

"Noemi," he called, "I have an idea for dinner. You got a minute?" As long as Jenny was smiling when she got to the office, he'd consider everything that happened this morning worth it.