Title: What She Needed
Pairing: McGee/Ziva
Rating: K+
Genre: Het
Cat: Episode Tag, Friendship, slight Romance
Spoilers: Tag to 10x12 Shiva
Warnings: None.
Summary: She realized that what she was missing was just what she needed right now.
Author's Note: Much lighter than last week's tag, lol. Still trying to decide how "appropriate" this is, given what happened in the episode, but nothing too risque happens, so ya know.
"Hey, Ziva. I didn't really get a chance to talk to you before you left. Gibbs kinda had me chained to my desk. Not literally, of course, but you probably knew that. Anyway, uh, I wanted to come with Tony to see you off, but I didn't want to be in the way. Just know that I am sorry about what happened, and if you need anything at all, you can feel free to give me a call. I'm sure Tony already offered, but know he's not the only one who cares about you. Um, I . . . Have a safe trip, Ziva. I'll see you when you get back. Bye."
Ziva pressed the number to save the message, then locked her phone and held it against her lips as she contemplated his words. She had missed his presence these past few days. He had an uncanny way of calming her down, making her feel . . . home. She was very appreciative of everything Gibbs and Tony had done for her, but there was something missing, something unmistakably McGee.
She smiled to herself and turned to her open suitcase. Some time alone, away from NCIS and everyone there, would be a good thing. Tony was right; she needed to grieve, to reflect, think about her life. What she wanted, what mattered. . . the things she would do, and say, when she got back. So much, overwhelming, so she was glad of the time she had to just breathe.
Her fingers found their way to the Star of David around her neck and she grasped it for a moment before releasing it, preparing herself physically, mentally and emotionally for the days ahead.
A few days later, Ziva closed her suitcase and looked around her hotel room, insuring she did not forget anything. She was returning home today, to America, and she felt considerably lighter leaving Israel than she had when she'd arrived.
She picked up her suitcase, opened the door, and. . .
. . . knocked on a familiar apartment door. She'd already dropped off her things at her place, picked up her mail, did all the necessary things upon returning home. . . Now it was time to do something else she found essential.
She heard the lock sliding and the door opened, revealing a surprised, but pleased, face. "Ziva! I wasn't expecting you back so soon."
Ziva smiled. "I was going to stay a bit longer, but someone's voicemail made me miss home." Her smile grew. "I hope you are not busy, McGee."
He returned her smile, opening the door wider. "For you, Ziva? Never. Come in." She nodded at him as he stepped aside, granting her entrance. She walked in, and he cleared his throat. "So, uh, how are you doing? I know Tony and Gibbs and have been. . ."
He was cut off by Ziva spinning and pressing herself against him, her arms encircling him. He stood still for a moment before awkwardly returning the hug, patting her back.
"Everything okay?" he asked, then immediately closed his eyes, mentally kicking himself. "Sorry. I meant. . ."
"I know what you meant, Tim." Ziva's words were quiet and McGee looked at her with concern in his eyes. "I just wanted to say thank you."
He glanced down, a little embarrassed by her words. "I didn't really do anything, Ziva. I wish I could've been there more."
Ziva was shaking her head. "You have been wonderful. This," she removed her phone from her pocket and held it up, "was enough for me to know." Her expression turned softer. "Though I do wish you had been around before I went back to Israel."
McGee looked slightly pained, but he didn't apologize, as was his first instinct. "Me, too," he said, his voice quiet.
"Not that I have not appreciated everything Tony and Gibbs have done," Ziva continued as though he hadn't spoken, "but they can be a little. . ."
"Macho?" McGee quipped, referencing a conversation they'd had years ago.
"Overbearing," Ziva laughed. "Though the macho thing can get a bit tiresome." She let out a contented sigh. "This is what I missed. You always know how to make me laugh."
His eyebrows raised a little and he nodded, glancing down. "That's me. Plucky comedy relief."
Ziva punched him lightly on the arm. "Stop living in the past, Timothy," she said, as he had referenced another moment from years prior. "You are so much more than that, and I really did miss you when I was in Israel."
He gave her a warm look. "I know. I'm sorry." He raised his eyebrows as he prepared to change the subject. "So, you just come over here to say thank you, or. . ."
Ziva hesitated for a moment, then took a step closer to him, reaching up and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, then retreating immediately, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.
McGee looked just as flustered as Ziva, but finally said, "Okay, you came here to do that, too."
Ziva covered her face with one hand, but a hint of a smile peeked out from under it. "I was not sure if I was going to do that or not," she admitted.
McGee narrowed his eyes at her words. "Thanks?"
Ziva dropped her hand, rolling her eyes. "I know you were not expecting it, but it felt like the right thing to do."
"Oh."
"Not that that was the first time I had considered doing it. . ."
"Oh?"
Ziva let out a frustrated huff. "I am not sure how you always manage to make me so. . ." She trailed off, as if waiting for him to fill in the blank, but his eyes just widened.
"Not touching that one," he muttered, and Ziva swatted at him.
"What I meant to say," she started again, "was that my time back in Israel made me realize that life is short, and that I should not hold back when I want to do something, because you never know when that chance will be taken away."
McGee blinked a few times, then a slow smile crept over his face. "Well, if there's anything else you want to do. . ."
"No, I will not give you a private shoving of my bikini," she said, grinning when his face fell. "But, who knows what other things I may find to be . . . necessary actions."
He just stared at her, trying not to think too hard about what she was suggesting. "That . . . sounds promising," he finally said, his lips turning back into a smile at the laugh Ziva let out. "So, uh, is there anything else you need, or want, as the case may be?"
She hesitated, and McGee straightened, wondering if she was going to kiss him again. But she didn't kiss him, instead wringing her hands a bit before asking, "Can I just talk? I don't want advice, or someone who feels they need to take my problems on their shoulders. I just want someone who will listen." She had a worried look on her face as she looked at him, not wanting to offend him. He didn't answer right away, so Ziva elaborated. "I just do not want anyone feeling a responsibility to me because of this."
McGee shook his head. "Ziva, what happened isn't just 'your problem.' It's NCIS' problem. And that's not to make light of your grief. Let us help." He paused, letting out a deep breath. "But I understand what you're saying, and if you just want a friend, someone who will listen and do only that, I can be that person."
Ziva let out a relieved breath. "Thank you. I just . . . there is a lot I wish to talk about, and I know it is a lot to ask of you, but it is easiest to tell you things." She felt her cheeks warming again as she confided in him and added, "Though I may ask you to do more than listen."
He gazed at her, trying to read her emotions, and the twinkle in her eye made him smile slightly. "Yeah? Like what?"
She shrugged a shoulder. "I may want some tea, if you have any. There may come a time when I need a hug. And . . . well, I cannot say what other things I may need." She gave him a soft look. "What do you say?"
He took her shoulders in his hands and turned her around, leaning down to mutter in her ear, "I may not have any tea, but I've been told I'm a good hugger."
Ziva glanced up at him, smiling, and put an arm around his waist as he moved to her side, and they walked to his sofa. She knew then he would give her everything she needed, and then some.
THE END