Chapter 9

McGee awoke slowly the next morning. The effects of his recent malaise were still evident but grandly offset by some magnificent dreams. He turned his head lazily and panic hit him – Ziva was gone.

"Ziva!" He sat bolt upright in bed.

"Yes?" Ziva hung enticingly out the bathroom door, tendrils of wet hair caressing her damp body, a towel wrapped tightly around her torso.

He stared transfixed; making a mental note to invest in some narrower bath towels. Better still: just let the guests make do with the hand towel. The fact that said towel stayed stubbornly fixed in place was proof that the word 'telekinesis' would never appear on his resume.

"McGee?"

He managed to wrench his eyes to her face. "Ahhh...you weren't here – I just panicked for a moment."

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "You on the other hand, slept like a baby."

His mind whirred – if by 'slept like a baby' she meant waking every few hours to crave a breast then: yes, perhaps she was right. "I think I'm still recovering," he managed. "When I woke up and you weren't here ..."

"That is alright, you were right to worry."

She opened the door fully, walked slowly over to him and knelt on the side of his bed with her legs folded up beneath her. The towel did not slip an inch; McGee wondered if she'd super glued it in place.

"Ziva," he began uncertainly, "last night...did I dream all that?"

"No," she assured him with a laugh.

He smiled mischievously. "Then you really are that flexible?"

That earned him a slap on the chest. "That you did dream," Ziva retorted.

"But you...and Abby?" He tried again. "It's just...well I'm flattered and all but I have trouble keeping up with a day and a night job without adding two women..."

"I may have overstated the case," Ziva cut in. "Abby wants full access to all men in her lab – you, Tony, Gibbs, even Ducky. It really is very territorial to her. Do you think you have room for just one woman in your life?"

He grinned. "I think I could squeeze in you ... ahh you in."

She gave him another gentle slap and climbed off the bed. Standing before him with a sly smile, she gently tugged at one corner of the towel causing it to unpeeled slowly clockwise around her. His body went into overdrive as he watched the picture unfold before his eyes and it was all he could do to not leap out of bed and flatten her on the floor.

"When the danger has passed," she began picking up her clothes, "we must do this again."

"Oh yes, we must," he agreed breathlessly.

"Oh, and I think I have used up all the hot water," she apologised.

"Probably just as well."

She smiled playfully then her face fell into a serious mode. "We have a bad guy to catch," she reminded him.

"Yep," he said regretfully, rolling out of bed.

"But then..."

His heart danced hopefully.

"...we shall continue where we left off."

"Well at least you're not kneeling this time," Tony noted as he arrived in the bullpen.

McGee raised an eyebrow but did not respond – he was a man on a mission and if that mission required him to catch a bad guy, then so be it.

"Behave yourself last night, Probie?" Tony prodded again.

"McGee was a perfect gentleman," Ziva replied.

"Only because he wouldn't know what to do if.."

"Oh he knows," said Ziva smugly, sitting back in her chair with her hands folded behind her head.

Tony glanced at McGee and saw he was smiling sweetly at Ziva. His head flicked back just in time to catch Ziva's returning smile.

"Oh, no," Tony started in a wavering voice. "Rule 12 is there for a reason."

"It's more like a guideline," Ziva mused.

"No it's ...Boss!" Tony turned to Gibbs as he rounded the corner. "Tell them about rule number 12."

Gibbs whacked Tony hard on the head. "We got a lead," he said gruffly.

The three younger agents grabbed their backpacks, dug out guns, affixed badges and headed for the elevator; Ziva and McGee jockeying for position at the lead.

"Oy!" Gibbs called from the center of the bullpen where he was still rooted to the spot.

They turned as one.

"MTAC," he said incredulously.

"Oh," they chorused retracing their steps, undoing all their good work and scurrying off up the stair after Gibbs.

An exhausted Director Jenny Shepard met them outside the door. "Much of this is need-to-know," she said. "If I don't tell you, don't ask."

The agents nodded and she opened the door.

"How long you been here Jen?" there was a note of concern in Gibbs' voice as he drew level with her.

"All night."

"You look like hell."

"Jethro," she smiled tightly, "you always know just what to say."

"You look like a damn fine field agent," he muttered entering the room.

Director Shepard smiled wearily and followed him in.

The agents sat four abreast in the front row staring at the enormous screen. Before them, a scene was playing out.

"These are the men who had your apartment under surveillance, Ziva," the Director said matter-of-factly.

McGee felt Ziva's hand curl slowly around his wrist.

"We traced them back to this sleeper cell."

Ziva's fingers dug into McGee as she recognised other members of the group. "But that's..."

"..need to know," Jenny finished her sentence pointedly.

"Unfortunately," the Director continued, "there was some unrest within the faction."

Gunshots and shouting rang out on the screen and McGee felt Ziva's grasp threaten to snap his wrist. He brought his other hand over and massaged her grasping hand until it relaxed slightly.

"There were no survivors," Jenny concluded, switching off the video.

McGee was agitated. "But who fired that first shot? That wasn't from inside the group, someone outside must have..."

The Director stared at him for a moment before exchanging amused expressions with Ziva.

"Oh," said McGee finally. "Then that means..."

"...that we can continue where we left off," Ziva smiled.

--END--