A/N: So the writers block on this one has been non-stop, but I finally managed to update. You guys have been so great with the reviews, and seriously they're what keeps me going. And just a little recap for you guys (since it's been 3 months). Previously: McGee was released from the hospital and Tony probed the probie about his avoidance of everyone's favorite goth. McGee and Abby had it out in the elevator (and not in the good way)...

He had to admit; it felt good to be home. No, it felt great to be home. He lay in his bed staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, willing for sleep to over take him. He'd spent the majority of the past four days in a bed sleeping, but now it was his bed. And he wanted to sleep desperately.

It wasn't that he was tired and that was what confused him. After the exhaustion of the day, he wasn't tired at all, which probably accounted for the fact that he was staring wide eyed at his ceiling. But he wanted to sleep in his own bed simply because he could. His apartment didn't smell like industrial strength bleach infused cleaning product. His sheets didn't smell like generic laundry detergent. His pillows were actually comfortable. If he wanted something to eat, it would come from his kitchen without some puke colored lid and it wouldn't be wrapped in saran wrap. He was home and things were finally back to normal. Or at least, that what he'd been telling himself since DiNozzo had dropped him off.

In actuality, things were far from normal. The brush with death had made him realize his true feelings for Abby and in return he'd found out her true feelings for him. His fight with her in the elevator had exhausted him emotionally, but not physically. And after she'd made mention of a letter, he'd tried to find out what she was talking about but her lab door remained locked. He knocked, but she, of course hadn't opened it and so he left, returning back to the squad room. Gibbs simply glared in his general direction, knowing by the look on his face that all was not back to normal between him and Abby. Once he returned to his paperwork, Tony jangled McGee's house keys. He looked to the senior field agent, exhaustion and sadness written all over his face and the two left.

Tony had made idle chitchat in the car, and McGee hadn't really paid attention. He was too tired to fight or even to tell him to shut up. He just wanted to get home and get into his own bed. His chest still stung slightly from her hug and the remembrance of her arms around him only made things worse.

And so even after everything that had exhausted him, both emotionally and physically, he still couldn't sleep because Abby was overtaking his conscious and subconscious. He wondered what she'd been talking about when she'd mentioned the letter. He already held three internal debates with himself about calling the hospital and asking Kasey, and all three had ended with him chickening out, although he had told himself he was being strong. He was in the middle of mentally noting that he was doing the right thing when a knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts.

He made his way to answer it, and cursed himself for moving so slowly. With a pace like that, he knew he'd be stuck on desk duty for weeks. Desk duty and working side by side with the woman he both loved and hated. It would not be a pleasant few weeks.

"Ziva," he said, surprised to see her as he pulled open the door. He moved aside to usher her in, and questioned. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to drop something off," she answered nonchalantly.

McGee's eyes went wide when he saw the item that she held up. His heart dropped to his stomach. A slight sense of nausea overtook him, but passed. He felt dizzy, but he gathered himself enough to ask the question that he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to.

"Please tell me you only came to drop off my car keys?"

"No. I came to drop off your car. I drove it here. It's parked in your space downstairs," she replied.

It was the answer he'd been dreading. His car. His precious Porsche. It had been driven by Ziva. He handled that car with kid gloves and she had probably driven it like Mario Andretti hopped up on speed. He envisioned it weaving in and out of traffic. He imagined the close calls. He imagined his car coming within inches of cars, semis, guardrails and pedestrians. He'd probably have to get new breaks. He knew how she drove.

She could tell by the look on his face when she'd first held up his car keys that he was panicking. It was exactly what Tony said would happen and it was exactly why Gibbs had let her take the car. He'd known McGee was well enough to handle a little panic and he was not at all pleased with the reaction he'd read on McGee's face after his chat with Abby. It was Gibbs' idea for her to deliver McGee's car, and Tony had laughed, "imagining the look of sheer panic on Probie's face." But even this was a little much. "He is paler than a goat," Ziva though to herself. She knew she had to put him at ease.

"Calm down McGee, your car is fine," she assured him, slapping him lightly on the arm and walking further into his apartment.

"How, how fast did you drive it? You didn't go over the speed limit by a lot did you?" he questioned, his face still fearful. She turned to face him and answered the most honest way she knew how.

"Define 'a lot.'"

McGee plopped down into his computer chair. The day really couldn't get any worse.

As Tony exited the elevator, everything seemed status quo, which intrigued him because from what he'd gathered when he'd dropped McGee home, the status was far from quo. Abby's music was blasting, and it was her happy music. She was typing away, just like always and when she turned around to greet him, a smile was plastered on her face.

"Hi Tony!" she remarked happily. "What's up?"

Tony cursed Fred Rinnert to hell. He'd really had enough of the Twilight Zone crap that was going on all around him. When Abby had stomped out of the squad room, she'd looked devastated. When McGee returned back upstairs he looked like a kid that had just been told Santa wasn't real. And now the goth was sucking back on a Caf-Pow like nothing was wrong. He wondered if Ziva was experiencing a similar reaction from McGee. He made a mental note to inquire about McGee's reaction to her driving his Porsche. If it were anything other than panic, Tony would seriously start believing that Rod Sterling was secretly narrating his life without him knowing it.

"Uh, hey Abs. How goes it?" he asked, somewhat skeptically. This had to be a trick. Women were known for their trickery and Abby was no different. Well, she was different…very different but still capable of the trickery that all women were capable of, he believed.

"Just defragging my hard drives," she answered. Tony had no idea what that meant, but he usually never understood her computer lingo. The "geek speak" was usually over his head, something that McGee loved to throw in his face. "What can I help you with?" she asked.

"Um, nothing. Just came down here to…you know…shoot the breeze. See what's up." He replied.

"Oh, nothing." She answered.

"Nothing you wanna…talk about?" he questioned. He was treading lightly. He knew women enough to know to be afraid of them. They were like hidden trip wires. Step cautiously…or you might get your leg blown off.

"Why would there be?" she asked, looking genuinely confused as to what he was getting at. Abby was different than most women. His usual tactics could never work on her. He knew he should have just come out and said it, but instead he went another route.

"I don't know. I thought maybe there might be something you want to talk about," Tony said, and grew progressively more nervous when she narrowed her eyes and closed the space between them. He'd tripped. He silently said goodbye to his leg.

"Might you possibly be referring to a certain special agent who seems to have recently lost every single ounce of compassion and kindness in his body and has in turn become the world's biggest jackass?"

"I, uh, I might be." He answered, afraid that he'd angered a woman who could kill him and leave no forensic evidence. He suddenly questioned himself for being down in the lab in the first place and remembered that the only reason he was there was because Ziva had ordered him to go talk to Abby. Ziva, who could kill him eighteen different ways with a paper clip had ordered him to talk to Abby who could cover his paper clip induced demise. It was at that moment that Tony Dinozzo realized he needed to date more.

Abby smiled.

'This is it,' Tony thought. 'I'm dead. She's gonna kill me right now. She'll probably tell Gibbs I went out for coffee and then stage a fiery car crash so that any evidence is burnt to a crisp. And of course when Ducky sends her tissue samples she'll fake them to make them look like I really did die in a car crash.' He waited with baited breath for the end to his days to arrive but it never came. Instead Abby answered.

"I don't wanna talk about it," she replied turning back to her computer. Tony breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that she hadn't actually killed him.

"Abs, come on. I know you're upset," he started and she cut him off, her voice getting louder with each sentence.

"Upset? Upset? Why would you think that Tony? Because of what McGee said to me in the squad room? Or because of what we discussed in the elevator? Did he tell you that, too? He knows how I feel about people gossiping, but with this "new" McGee, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd told you everything!"

"Actually, he was silent the whole ride to his apartment. Only time he spoke was to say thank you when I dropped him off," Tony replied cautiously.

"Shocking. It has manners." Abby retorted.

"Abby, from what I can tell he seemed sorry for what he said. And he was genuinely upset by whatever happened between you two when he went to apologize," Tony explained.

"You mean when Gibbs forced him to apologize," she corrected.

"Hey, I saw the look on his face when you walked away from him. And you know McGee's face is easier to read than one of his Gemcity novels. He didn't mean it, Abs." She was silent so he continued.

"This whole thing has completely messed with his head. I mean come on, this is like one big alternate universe. It's like planet of the apes. Everything's backwards. I mean, really. McGee shutting you out and not wanting to see you, that's just…"

He realized the words too late, after they'd already past his lips. He would forever regret them after being met with her eyes.

"That's just…crazy…talk, is what that is." He added, trying to diffuse the situation, but the damage was already done.

"What do you mean shutting me out Tony?" she asked, her mind already formulating the answer.

"I…don't…I, uh…umm, what do you mean, what do I mean…what do I mean, uhhh, well there's a lot of things I mean…I mean well," he stumbled over his words trying desperately to somehow fix things. Abby turned away from him and looked back to her computer. She looked down at the keyboard.

"Ziva didn't go to interview a suspect yesterday did she? She went to go see McGee."

"I mean, you've driven with her Abs, you can't really pinpoint where she's going to end up. Sometimes its on the road, sometimes its in the hedges," Tony tried, hoping humor would help.

"That whole thing about his doctor not allowing visitors…that was all a lie, wasn't it?" she asked quietly. When he didn't reply she raised her voice. "Wasn't it??!"

Tony swallowed hard and he knew he owed his friend the truth, even though he knew it would hurt her.

"Yes."

Abby walk back into her office and closed the sliding glass doors behind her. She quickly flicked the lock and turned up her music. She only willed God to not let him see her cry. But she was on the breaking point of tears. Because for the first time in her life, Abigail Scuito felt stupid.

"Ziva, for the last time, I'm fine," McGee argued. She had been doting on him for almost an hour and it was giving him the creeps. Ziva was not the "doting" type. Yet, she'd forced him into bed, fluffed his pillows, made him a sandwich and forced him to eat it. She'd gotten him juice and refilled his glass twice, insisting that he needed more fluids.

"I am just making sure, McGee. It is better to safe than sorry," she replied and he stared at her.

"What, did I get that one wrong?" she asked, when she noticed his quizzical look.

"No, it's just that…you're being very…" he paused, trying to find a way to end that sentence that would not end with him being shot again.

"Overbearing?" she offered. "Controlling?" she asked, fluffing his pillows yet again.

"Motherly," he answered and was surprised to see her eyes soften. If he had to stand a guess, he would assume that his admission had pleased her, but he knew she wouldn't admit it out loud.

"This surprises you, McGee?" she asked, as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Well you don't exactly strike me as the motherly type, Ziva," he answered smiling and soon regretted his words when he saw her eyes drop to her hands. She recovered quickly, as she was trained to do, and soon added a plastered smile to her façade. It didn't work with him though. After three years, he knew Ziva well enough to know when she was refusing to allow herself to show any sort of pain, physical or emotional.

"Ziva, that's not what I meant," he began, attempting to apologize, but she shushed him.

"It is fine, McGee," she said, giving just a hint of a smile. When his demeanor didn't change and the worry didn't leave his eyes, she persisted. "Trust me, you did not hurt my feelings."

He sighed. He knew she was lying to him, but he knew she'd never admit it. She'd sooner put another bullet in him. He'd only meant it in the sense that he could never see Ziva driving a Ford Windstar with a soccer ball magnet on the back. He couldn't envision her handing out juice boxes and being the "mommy" that a child would run to after a bad dream. He was so used to seeing her as the hard ass Mossad officer who'd been trained to take lives. He couldn't imagine her nurturing one.

"Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you?" she asked.

She knew. He wasn't surprised at that. She probably didn't even have to ask since she and Tony had both witnessed his outburst at Abby. It wasn't like him to snap at anyone, especially Abby. His demeanor had been different, harder since he'd come to the conclusion that she didn't feel the same way about him that he felt about her. He'd been distant when he was in the hospital and morose when he was alone. He'd snapped at Tony when he pulled that u-turn in the car, and he certainly had shown his new true colors to everyone when he hissed at Abby. It didn't take a genius to see that something had drastically changed with Timothy McGee, so he wasn't surprised that Ziva had caught on.

The brash side of him wanted to tell her to shut up, but the side that was more afraid of her told him to tread lightly. He knew she could kill him eighteen different ways with a paper clip. And while he couldn't think of a paper clip that was readily available in his apartment, his service revolver was quite close and he knew what she could do with a gun.

But as he looked at her, and he saw a slight twinge of sadness still in her eyes, he knew that she would never hurt him, even if she threatened him. Above all else, she was his friend. She had brought him his car, and while Tony and Gibbs had probably arranged the whole thing as some sort of payback for upsetting Abby, he knew that Ziva had done it because she knew how much he loved his car. She knew he felt better knowing that it was parked where it was supposed to be parked.

"Ziva, I'm sorry," he said.

"McGee, I already told you," she began, fully ready to threaten him if he did not stop apologizing. But he cut her off before she could.

"Not for that. I'm sorry for being a jerk. I've managed to make an art of that," he answered sadly.

"I feel that it is not me you want to apologize to for being a jerk," she replied. She was happy that he was about to open up. Hopefully, Tony was having the same sort of luck with Abby.

"Its stupid, y'know? I mean, I was just doing my job. If it had been anyone else that I had pushed out of the way, I wouldn't be obsessing about this. I don't know why this is so different," he explained.

"Because you care about her, McGee. And she cares about you," Ziva said, attempting resolve the situation. She wasn't familiar with "fixing" relationships, especially ones as complicated as McGee and Abby's.

Tim scoffed at her assessment. Clearly, she wasn't as wise as she seemed. "Abby doesn't care, Ziva. She didn't even care enough to come to the hospital."

"You would not let her!" Ziva exclaimed. "You made up that silly rule about your doctor not allowing visitors. Even if she had tried to come the nurses wouldn't let her in to see you! You avoided her phone calls, she couldn't even get in touch with you,"

"I know, alright?! But that doesn't make up for…forget it," McGee said dejectedly. There was no use explaining. He'd been a jerk and he knew it, and so did everyone else. There was no point in explaining his reasoning behind it.

"Make up for what McGee?" Ziva asked.

He threw his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes. He hadn't told anyone about the dream that had thrown this whole convoluted mess into motion. It was the dream that had started everything and he'd woken up from it and realized that he was in love with her. And after that, everything had just slowly spiraled out of control until his relationship with the woman he loved had become completely unrecognizable.

He felt Ziva's hand cover his own and he opened his eyes to look at her. He saw in hers something that he couldn't put his finger on. Maybe it was understanding, maybe even the love of a friend, but whatever it was, it made him open up. He let his eyes drop to their joined fingers and he finally spoke.

"The last thing I remember," he began, nervous and unsure of himself. "Was her face. I remember having this feeling in my chest…not the pain, but this other feeling…like urgency. I remember being desperate to see her, to know she was ok. I even wanted to give her a hug," he gave a slight laugh. Ziva smiled, but did not say anything.

"And that's the last thing I remember. Before she was there."

"Before who was there McGee?" Ziva asked.

"Abby. I woke up…and she was there. And she told me she was ok. But it wasn't real. I woke up and Sarah was there with Tony, but not her. It was just a dream," he said.

Ziva wasn't sure she'd ever seen him show such raw emotion. She was surprised, honestly, that he wasn't crying. The sheer heartbreak that she'd heard in his voice alone had spoken volumes about the way he felt about Abby. She almost wanted to cry for him, but instead she remained quiet and simply squeezed his hand, imploring him to go on with his story.

"She didn't come to see me at all. And I…I waited. All day, I waited for her and she never showed. Shows how much she cares. Or doesn't care." He muttered, now angry as he remembered her absence at his bedside. He pursed his lips and let the anger show in his eyes, although his voice didn't change at all. "So that's why I did it. I told the nurses that I didn't want her bothering me. That way, if she felt obligated, she had an out. She wouldn't have to deal with it,"

It was only then as he explained himself that he realized if that had really been what Abby wanted, he was still only giving her what she wished for.

"McGee," Ziva began, not knowing where to start. Abby had been terrified to see him, but could she betray her friend's trust and tell him, the man who loved her that? And did Abby love him? Ziva knew she cared, but she couldn't tell if it was as deeply as McGee felt about her. She'd always assumed that he would do anything for her, and even as he'd taken a bullet to prove it, she still wasn't sure where Abby stood on the whole situation. Her thoughts were racing a mile a minute as she tried to figure out exactly what to say, when McGee interrupted the sentence she was still desperately trying to phrase.

"I know what you're going to say. We still have to work together, I know." He suddenly felt, as he looked at her, that he had said too much. Above all else, she was his friend and he always believed he could confide in her, but he had come dangerously close to admitting that he loved Abby. So he struggled to cover his tracks.

"This thing…this is nothing Ziva, really. Come on, you know Abby" he said, trying to give a slight laugh and not make it sound as forced as it actually was. "She'll overdose on caffeine or Sister Rosita will bowl a perfect game and she'll forget all about this,"

Ziva was floored. He wanted Abby to forget about this? To forget that he had risked his own life to save hers? To forget that he'd willingly put his own life on the line to make sure she was safe? And what of his own feelings? What would he do with those? Simply lock them away and ignore them as he went on with his life, always feeling that emptiness? She wanted to smack him across the face, hard, just as she had slapped Abby, but she knew she couldn't. McGee was different.

Abby was over emotional, while McGee was analytical. His need to fully understand things and process them to all the way down to their very core was what made him great at his job, but Ziva knew that it was also what had led to this situation. He'd over analyzed her absence at the hospital. He'd probably compared it to all the other times one of the team had been hurt. He'd known how devastated she was when Gibbs had been injured, and how she'd rushed to his side. Ziva could tell that that was exactly what he had wanted, he'd even admitted it when he told her about his dream. She remembered her words to Abby that day in the lab. "He needs you." She hadn't realized just how much he did need her. If she had, she would have knocked Abby out and dragged her to Bethesda herself.

As she attempted to formulate any words that could console him, her cell phone rang. She held up her index finger to McGee, signaling that she would only need one minute as she fished the device out of her coat pocket. In her mind, she muttered a curse as she saw the caller ID: DiNozzo.

"Hello, Tony." She answered.

"I'm downstairs," was his only reply. Though he had only spoken two words, she knew that his mood was unpleasant.

"I will be right down," she replied and abruptly hung up. "Tony is downstairs," she explained.

"I was wondering how you were going to get back to headquarters," McGee said, smiling. Ziva gave a slight squeeze of his hand, which she was still holding and smiled back at him. She found herself lost for words though. She honestly had no idea what to say to him and the only things coming to mind were stereotypical phrases that one would use in a situation similar to theirs. So instead, she remained quiet with a small sad smile playing on her lips. Her eyes conveyed the emotions that she wished she could express verbally, but there was only one that she really wished he'd read: understanding.

"You should go," he said. "Besides, I'm sure Tony's mad at the fact that you got to drive my car and he didn't."

Ziva smiled again. Typical McGee. All emotions aside, back to business. She stood and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. She pulled the blanket up around him, tucking him in gently.

"Get some rest, McGee," she said. And though it was an order, which he knew to obey, it certainly didn't sound like the usual way she commanded. Her voice was soft, yet serious. It was…motherly. She began to take her leave, and he settled deeper into the warm cocoon that had been made for him, when she turned back to him suddenly.

"I almost forgot," she half exclaimed as she removed the empty glass from the small bookcase beside his bed. She returned to the room only moments later with a full glass of apple juice. "You need more fluids, McGee. Drink up and I will come see you tomorrow."

Of any visitor that he could have gotten that day, he had been thankful that it had been Ziva.

"Ziva," he called out to her just as she reached the threshold of his bedroom doorway.

She turned and looked to the man who was snuggled beneath his bed sheets, her face plastered with a look of willingness to help him as much as she could. But to her surprise, he did not need any assistance. He just needed to tell her something.

"You're gonna make a great mom someday."

Five minutes later, Ziva opened the door to the car and got in. She'd barely closed it, when Tony took off full speed down the street.

"In a hurry, Tony?" she asked, as she reached for her seatbelt.

"Gibbs wants us to check out Roberts' apartment," he replied, not taking his eyes off the road. One of the lesser suspects in the case they were currently working, Roberts was still being considered a "person of interest" in the disappearance of a female petty officer.

"How did things go with Abby?" Ziva asked, ignoring the subject of the case at hand.

Abby. The look on her face as she sat silently at her desk while her music blasted was something he'd been trying to get out of his mind for the past hour. She'd been ready to cry, but Tony knew that she wasn't going to let the tears fall while he was present. So he'd just walked away, leaving her to deal with her emotions and leaving himself to deal with the guilt that he felt for saying the wrong thing.

"Not good," he'd replied sternly. He wasn't going to get into it, although he knew Ziva like the back of his hand. She would push him. And she did.

"What do you mean 'not good'? What did you do?" she questioned.

"Doesn't matter. Gibbs said to leave it alone," he replied.

Ziva was curious as to how Gibbs had become involved in this, although she wasn't surprised. He knew more than most about anything and everything, especially the things that people wanted to keep hidden from him.

"How does Gibbs know what is going on?" she asked.

"Because he's Gibbs. And he saw Abby crying," Tony answered.

"Crying? Tony, what did you do?" she prodded.

"I didn't do anything except talk to her. Gibbs went down to see her afterwards, and then came back up, pulled me in his 'conference room' and told me to un-involve myself and to pass the message along to my partner. That'd be you, by the way. So as per the boss's direct orders, its McGee's problem."

Ziva had no problem following orders. In fact, she was highly adept at doing so, more so than the other members of her team due to her strict military training. But she also knew that some orders were worth disobeying. She said nothing to Tony about it, she instead switched the topic of discussion back to the case at hand. But in the back of her mind, she knew she was not about to give up on this. This was not over.