Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.

A/N: What a season finale, huh?

The lights flicker and the elevator gives a sudden jerk. Instinctively you reach out your hands for hers and grip them tightly.

Then suddenly you are falling down, down, down. Glass shatters and she falls on top of you, your hands still clenched in a horrible parody of the wedding dance that you never got to share today.

All you have time to do is think we really should have known better than to take the elevator during a bomb threat and this could be it along with a but I never finished my bucket list before you black out.

-–- -–- -–- -–- -–-

When you wake up, she is still on top of you, a deadweight shielding your body.

"Ziva?"

She doesn't respond.

"Ziva?"

With shaking hands, you shift her and check her wrist for a pulse. It's still there, thank God.

It's pitch-dark in the elevator. You fumble around in your pockets for a light – any light – and eventually find your glow-in-the-dark keychain. You raise it to get a closer look at the woman next to you.

She's bleeding, but not too badly. It appears she was just knocked out by the fall, like you were. She might have fractured something… it's too early to tell. Still, she doesn't appear to be in a critical state.

Now aware that she is going to be OK, you begin to pay attention to your surroundings. You can't hear anything outside the elevator – and how much time has passed, anyway? – and naturally your phone broke when you fell on it, which rules that form of communication out.

(Did everyone make it out of the building safely? No, you can't afford to think about that right now. At least Ducky and Jimmy are safe in Florida… that's something.)

Hoping against hope, you press the emergency button. As you had expected, nothing happens. Yelling and pounding on the elevator door yields no results either.

OK, what to do when you're stuck in an elevator. You're sure you've read this somewhere.

That's right, you looked it up after watching Dick Maas' De Lift. Good movie, good movie.

Huh.

As you strain your brain trying to remember what the article had said, the thought pops into your head that Ziva probably knows how to get out of here.

Just your luck that she's still out cold.

Glancing at her, your mind flashes briefly back to the conversation that you had…was it earlier today? It feels almost like a lifetime ago right now.

You'd been grousing about weddings to cover how much you'd wanted to attend Jimmy's, and then the conversation had shifted.

The vows. The ring. The kiss. The ketubah.

The look in her eyes.

Against your will, you'd started picturing the whole thing.

And her suggestion ("Elope?") had caused something deep inside of you to shift.

Really? A woman (like her (she)) would be willing to sacrifice her dream wedding to elope with a guy (like (you))?

Huh.

Suddenly, randomly, it hits you that it was around this time last year that the two of you were in this very elevator, and Ziva was close to giving up. ("There is always another monster. I mean… we keep pursing them, but we keep making targets of ourselves.") And then just a couple of months ago, also in this elevator, Burris had reminded you to "Cherish each other… every day." Those words ring a bell in your head.

As though from several lifetimes ago, you remember the words that you'd once been prepared to say to Wendy ("I take thee… to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part…") and you return to that conversation you'd had with Ziva earlier today. You can't help but wonder…

A small moan comes from Ziva's direction, and you're jerked out of your thoughts.

Ziva.

You'll think more about it later. Right now, the two of you have work to do.