A/N: I wrote this awhile ago, and decided to type it before my schedule got crazy for the end of the semester. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this. I really do appreciate it. Leave your thoughts on the way out they really do make my day.

Disclaimer: Owning NCIS is not something that I will ever do. I just thoroughly enjoy it.

Shielded

She barely notices the smell of the smoke and the sulfur emanating from the blast. Her mind doesn't register the charred window pane barely visible in the low lighting. She can't feel the cold seep into the room once the heat of the blast has dissipated. The sense she uses is her clouded sense of hearing. At first she only hears muted sounds, but it quickly returns as he groans painfully directly into her ear.

The last few minutes come tearing back into her now overactive brain. They walked into the empty room, weapons drawn. He saw the crate in the middle. Something felt wrong about it, but she allowed him to approach. She heard him scream her name before she felt him behind her. She curled into a ball instantly so that he could make himself smaller. They rolled to their right, and she followed his lead. He kept himself between her and the box the entire time. The blast of the bomb going off invaded her senses a second later.

She can feel his lips close to where her ear is. She vaguely remembers him hiding his face in the space between her neck and shoulders. That was the only part of her that was exposed to the blast. Her ears pick up a second groan, this one louder. She's not sure if it is because her ears are clearing up, or because he is in more pain. The second option scares her more.

He shifts his weight slightly putting more of it on her. She moves to accommodate for the added pressure on her back. He lets out another pained moan. She can feel his chest rise and fall against her back now. He is breathing heavier than he should even after the adrenaline rush. He has always been able to recover quickly; today it is taking him much longer.

She glances around her trying to assess the situation. Broken glass litters the floor from the light bulbs that shattered on detonation. The box in the middle of the room is obliterated. A burn circle has been created where the box once was. Dust is falling from the ceiling creating a serene effect as if nothing had happened moments before. A ceiling beam is resting against the only source of cover the room offered. A single pole is behind him with a beam from the ceiling resting awkwardly against it.

"Tony?" she asks. The rise and fall of his chest continues, but no sound emanates from his lips. She turns to face him, but he shifts to back away from her slightly. At first, she wants him to stay where he is because the sound he makes is one of a wounded animal. It is not a sound she ever wants to hear coming from him again.

"Tony?" she asks again. She needs a response from him. If she doesn't get one soon she isn't sure how she is going to react. It is not going to be pretty of that she is sure.

"Yeah Ziva?" he breathes out. The words grate against his teeth when he unclenches them to allow the words to pass. He is hiding the amount of his pain from her. She gently moves closer to him once again preparing herself for the possibility of his dead weight. If he passes out it is going to be difficult to move him.

"Can you move?" she hesitates to ask. If he is injured in any way that could cause him more harm than good she would rather he stay still. She can easily get away from him if she wants to. He grimaces in pain as he backs off her. She turns in place to get a better look at him. He is at least squatting on the floor.

He lifts his head out of his hands eventually to study her. He must see something in his quick assessment because his face takes on a satisfied expression. His mouth curves into a tiny smile as he leans back slightly. His hands come to steady himself as he lowers his body to the floor. Sitting does seem like the better option for him. It will make it easier to check him for injuries.

She stands and begins to document any injury he may have. Once she decides that he can safely move she begins to study the room better. Everything is intact except for the weight bearing pole that served as their cover. The beam that leans against it originally hid the angry crack from her observant gaze.

She circles him to take in the rest of the room. She needs to get him out of here before all of his adrenaline wears off. The building they are in could collapse at any time. She does not want to be in here when it decides to. Her fingertips brush his back in a silent reassurance of her presence. He hisses in pain.

"Take off your jacket," she tells him through clenched teeth. Her anger at the situation flared the instant he expressed his pain. His suit is ruined anyway. There is no point in leaving it on. The fabric is torn in many places. Nothing is sticking out of the back, so it is unlikely that anything is stuck in his back.

"Ziva," he grumbles. She taps his back gently to reiterate her point. He hides his second hiss, but the sharp intake of breath is unmistakable.

"Off Dinozzo," she commands. He mumbles something, but allows her to help him out of it. The shirt underneath does not show any visible signs of bleeding. She gathers up his jacket and helps him to stand. He doesn't make a sound, but his expression is unmistakable. The man is in pain. Whoever caused it will be caught, and she will deal with them personally.

He drapes his arm around her shoulder accepting her offer of assistance. She in turn secures him by wrapping her arm around his waist and securing it with a few fingers in his belt loop. Their first few steps are sketchy, but they soon create a rhythm that works for them.

The stairs are a little more difficult. His height makes it interesting. If she steps down before he does she can no longer stabilize him. Likewise, him reaching a step before her puts added strain on her shoulders and neck. She gets to the point that she whispers which foot he is supposed to move. Her voice becomes a soothing cadence that allows him to detach from the fire in his back.

Once outside and far enough away, she helps him lie down on his stomach in the grass. The sun is beating down on them mercilessly on the humid summer day. She pulls out her phone to call the paramedics only to find it dead. His is just as useless. A piece of shrapnel from the blast detached the screen from the rest of the phone.

"Gibbs will find us," he tells her calmly. She knows that their boss will find them, he always does. It is not the finding that worries her. It is more what they will find. Tony is in pain. She has to try to take care of him with what is available to her.

"I'll be right back," she tells him. He nods. As she makes her way towards the car she pulls the keys out of her pocket. She jogs around the barn they parked the car behind. She inserts the key into the ignition and plugs he phone into the charger. A few minutes later she has made the necessary phone calls and has procured a med kit.

When she returns to her partner he has already taken his shirt and tie off. She shakes her head at him. His white undershirt betrays a few of his injures. Red stains riddle across it on his back. None of them appear to be very severe. Still, the injuries exist.

"You should not have protected me, Tony," she says to him. He acknowledges her statement with a grunt. She grits her teeth as the anger washes over her once again. She does not like seeing her partner in pain. He did not have to try and protect her; she would have been fine on her own.

He chuckles into the ground. He finds something she has said funny. There is absolutely nothing funny about this situation. He is on the ground bleeding from what looks to be at least 15 small cuts. She is basically uninjured. He should not have protected her. He could have protected himself better if he had allowed her to find her own cover.

Suddenly, he begins the arduous task of getting himself into a sitting position. She is too shocked by his sudden decision to bother trying to stop him. His fingers play with the hem of his undershirt. His eyes meet hers. A second later she sees the question he is asking her. She sighs as she moves closer to him. Her hands find the space next to him.

"You should wait for the paramedics," she tries to tell him. He shakes his head as his fingers continue their dance. Sometimes they come in contact with the skin on the back of her hand. His shirt is beginning to stick to him in places, and it is only serving to irritate the cuts on his back. He did walk out to here, so it shouldn't harm him if she is gentle. Her thinking must have taken too long because he starts to lift the garment over his head himself.

"Let me do it, Tony," she conceded, "lift your arms." Just like an obedient child his arms rise above his head. She slides the shirt up slowly making sure not to pull too hard at any time. He winces as it peels off of the numerous injuries. Once his shirt is off, he turns to lie back down on his stomach. She glances at his back and is surprised to see the outline of the beam on his shoulders. The bruise is only beginning to form.

"What were you thinking, Tony?" she screams at him. The sight of the bruise brings back her anger. If he had left her alone, she could have avoided being hit. Her reflexes are faster than his are. Why did he have to be so protective?

"Why do you think I rolled, Ziva? Most of the blow landed on the ground beside me. I promise I didn't take the brunt of it," he tells her calmly.

"If you had, you would probably have a broken back, or be dead. Neither option is acceptable, Tony," she seethes. If he is surprised by her reaction he doesn't show it. This only serves to anger her more.

"You should not have approached the box," she spits at him, "you should have waited until we had back-up." His laughter takes her by surprise. The sound calms her momentarily. She really shouldn't let him affect her this way, but it comes from years of working across from him. She is simply relieved that he is laughing.

"Ziva, we didn't know what was in the box, so there was no reason to call in back-up," he remarks. She grumbles, but has to agree. Sirens can be heard in the distance. She hopes Gibbs comes before the paramedics. For some reason, she wants the older man here before she has to watch her partner be loaded into an ambulance. Her wish is granted when a charger comes barreling down the dirt road.

"How is he?" Gibbs whispers. Her eyes meet his and he nods. All he needed was her reassurance. She finds it interesting that Gibbs trusts her judgment when it comes to the Senior Agent. Tony has at least moved his head to face the way Gibbs approaches. He tries to sit up as they get close, but her hand on his back pushes him back to the ground. He doesn't move once back down.

The paramedics are the next to arrive along with the bomb tech. Tony gives his statement while the paramedics look at his injuries on the ground. She gives hers a minute later while Tony is being strapped to a gurney. One of the paramedics is young and attractive. It makes her hackles rise for the briefest of moments. It isn't until she realizes Tony is nicely ignoring the woman's advances that she calms.

"David, go with him. Keep me updated," Gibbs tells her. She nods. McGee gives her a begging look. She smiles at him to reassure the younger agent that she will call him also. Abby will need updated more regularly than Gibbs, and that job falls to the youngest agent. Not that she minds. A hysterical Abby always has the same effect on her. It is not one she is exactly comfortable with especially when her nerves are already shot.

The ride to the hospital is uneventful. Tony jokes with the paramedics as they take him to Bethesda. He is x-rayed and it is proven that nothing is broken. He has to get 25 total stitches to patch up his back correctly. He is told to stay off of his bad knee and keep it elevated. It appears he hit it on the floor rather hard as he rolled them out of the way of the falling beam. Tony growls when the doctor tells him he will have to stay overnight to make sure he doesn't have a concussion. He swears there is nothing wrong with his head. She laughs.

The doctor gives him something for that pain that makes him completely loopy. Abby is his first visitor. She hugs him gently after Ziva reminds her that Tony is injured. The statement causes Abby to cock her head and give Ziva a knowing grin. Abby receives a confused look in return. Her smile only gets bigger.

Gibbs and McGee come in next after the scene has been secured. They have a lead on the bomb maker. Ziva leaves with them, but promises Tony she will pick him up in the morning. She is going to arrest the man that put Tony in the hospital. Tony grins at her as he points to the heart monitor attached to him. He mimics the sound as they leave. She hides her grin from him with her hair. He won't understand why she is laughing anyway.

That night the bomber is arrested and interrogated. Gibbs actually allows her to do the arresting. She leads the man out to the waiting car. He "trips" twice. The first time his face meets a wall; the second it meets the hood of the car. He whines about cops mistreating suspects. She whispers to him the most painful way she can kill him. Gibbs swears he didn't hear the entire exchange. McGee's face is pale.

She does pick Tony up from the hospital the next morning. He has a prescription for some pain pills, and instructions to rest for the next week. They have to wheel him out of the hospital. He makes a show out of it waving to the nurses as he leaves. He blows a few kisses at some of them too. She just rolls her eyes.

'Thanks, Ziva," he tells her as he cautiously sits in her car.

"You are welcome, Tony," she smiles at him.

A week later they are bickering about his cleaning habits as they step through the elevator. Gibbs looks up from his desk, but chooses to let them argue. It appears that after the first night Ziva just decided to stay with him. He clears his throat and the bullpen instantly quiets. The two Agents sit in their respective desks.

"Rule 1, Dinozzo," he says without looking up.

"Never screw over your partner," the Agent recites.

"Rule 12, David," this time he looks at her. She looks at him without changing her expression.

"Never date a co-worker," she tells him. A smile crosses his features. Her eyebrows crease in a sure sign of confusion. He gets up and lays a piece of paper on her desk. She looks at him one more time before she looks down. His signature is already on the bottom.

"I want that on my desk by tonight, David," he commands. She nods her head with her mouth wide open. He doesn't comment, but Tony snickers. He walks away with a grin on his face. Giving Ziva the change of address form was definitely the best way to let them know that he knew.