Chapter 1

Gibbs stepped off the elevator and lingered back behind the desks of his workers, amused at the topic of conversation.

"Of course ‘Schindler's List' made you cry, Zee-vah, you're Jewish," Tony scoffed. "I want to know what movie actually surprised you by making you cry," he clarified. "Oh, oh, I know," he continued. "I wonder what movie would make Gibbs cry," he suggested.
"I doubt any movie would make him cry, Tony," McGee said. "I wouldn't even want to speculate."
"I bet he has a favorite that brings a tear to his eye; maybe a classic or an old war movie…" Tony continued, deep in thought.
Gibbs smirked and began moving toward DiNozzo to get his attention in the fondest, most direct way he knew when the next words spoken literally froze him in his tracks. His face went white and his breath completely left him. He turned his back to his team and leaned against the wall. Once he had recovered enough to catch his breath, he re-entered the elevator and went back downstairs.

"Earth to Ziva…?" Tony waved his hands to get her attention. "What on earth would make you think that?"
"Never mind," she answered softly. "Excuse me, I need to visit the ladies' room."

---

Ziva glanced at her reflection briefly before pulling her hair back with her hands and twisting it so it would remain behind her shoulders. She splashed cold water on her face, using the sensation to help clear her thoughts. She had seen Gibbs standing there, and had still made the decision to say what she did. As her desk had the unique advantage of facing the elevators, she had witnessed her boss's reaction and it had moved her. Ziva knew that she and Gibbs had bonded in the past over their mutual respect for one another. Family and loyalty meant a lot to both of them, and that's what made the situation with Ari so critical in her relationship with Gibbs. She had always felt she understood him better than others, but normally would have kept her mouth shut. What on earth had possessed her to mention that publicly? She dried her face, smoothed the wrinkles out of her blouse, took a deep breath and then exited the restroom.

---

"Ziva," Gibbs motioned toward the elevator later that day. "Coffee?"
His question was clearly not a request, but an order.
"Sure," she said, dreading the short walk.
"Ziva's in trou-ble" Tony whispered in a sing-song fashion as Ziva joined Gibbs in the elevator.
"Wonder what for?" McGee asked.
"Beats me," Tony said, practically rubbing his hands together in anticipation, craning his neck backward to watch her enter the elevator behind their boss. "She'll tell us later." As long as he wasn't the object of Gibbs' anger, things were all right with the world.

---

Shortly after the elevator began moving, Gibbs stopped it and turned his complete focus to his young Israeli charge.
"Was that in your report?" Gibbs asked gruffly, knowing she knew to what he was referring.
"What?" she asked, taken aback. "No, of course not. Something like that wouldn't have been in a report. Mossad is thorough, but that is a bit extreme, even for Mossad."
Gibbs' face relaxed a bit as he recognized her words as truth.
"So, where did that come from?" he asked.
"It made sense to me. The movie most likely to make you cry would be one that would remind you of Kelly. Thinking of children's movies released early enough to have been watched and rewatched in your home, it was not difficult to settle on ‘The Little Mermaid'. The heroine is a gorgeous redhead and the hero is a handsome man who sails on a boat, yes?" She paused a moment in her reasoning, reading his body language well enough to know he was no longer with her, but in the not so recent past. A trained interrogator, Ziva had great patience, and thus no trouble waiting quietly for her boss to return to the present.
"I suppose a great interrogator needs profiling skills," he said softly.
"Of course," Ziva said with an awkward smile. "I guess I really put my shoe in my mouth that time."
Gibbs smiled. "Your foot," he corrected. "And I doubt they would draw the same conclusions about that movie as you did." He reached over and restarted the elevator, as his hand connected with the back of her head. "Just don't let it happen again."
She laughed out loud and gave him her biggest smile.

Chapter 2

"We've got a situation down at Bethesda," Gibbs announced, gathering things from his desk. "Someone got past security and took out Hooks," he explained quickly. "Grab your gear," he barked. "McGee, call Ducky. DiNozzo, gas the truck. Ziva, you're with me." He stood and moved quickly toward the elevator. "Let's roll!"
"Boss, should I call Agent Fornell?" McGee asked before the elevator doors shut. Gibbs' hand flew out to catch the closing doors.
"I'll handle that, McGee!" he called out, and then allowed the doors to shut behind them.
"Gibbs, do you think it was Hamas?" Ziva asked, once they were alone in the moving elevator.
"I was hoping you would know that," he countered.
"I will see what I can find out," she promised him.
"You do that," he replied, stepping off the elevator and heading quickly toward the vehicle. Ziva rushed to keep up with his long stride, and slid into the passenger seat just in time to earn one of her boss's rare smiles of approval, as he screeched out of the parking lot and raced toward Bethesda Hospital.

---

The look Gibbs gave her was all Ziva needed to know the conversation she was about to overhear was off the record.
"It's me," Gibbs said into the phone, not bothering to reduce his speed. "They got Hooks," he paused. Ziva was unable to hear Fornell's response, but could hear enough to interpret his tone. He was not a happy camper. "We'll check it out… see you there," he said as he disconnected the phone. "Darn it," he said under his breath. He jerked the steering wheel causing the car to veer sharply to the right, tires squealing.
"Are we detouring?" Ziva asked in confusion.
"Fornell got a tip from an undisclosed source regarding Hooks about the same time we got the call. Intel suggests Fahd al-Fulani is orchestrating something; now we know what," he said shortly.
"His plane leaves at 1325 hours," Ziva stated, seeing the problem. Due to some chatter picked up by Homeland Security, all agencies had been closely tracking al-Fulani's movements over the past two weeks. Lance Corporal Hooks was being held in protective custody during an FBI investigation of a deep sleeper cell about which he was able to give damning information. Security had already been breached once, which was the reason for hospital confinement.
"Tony; Gibbs," Gibbs identified himself when Tony answered the phone. "We're trying to head off al-Fulani. Sacks will be meeting you at the scene. You're in charge," he said, disconnecting the line.
"Ziva, get in touch with your contacts now," he ordered, increasing his speed even more in an attempt to get to the airport in time. "Then call McGee and have him get the evidence to Abby ASAP. We need to wrap this up before they make us release al-Fulani."
"On it," Ziva said, immediately beginning to make calls.
"Thanks," he said, sparing her a grateful glance, before turning back to concentrate on the road.

---

Gibbs and Ziva exited the car in record time, and drew their badges to identify themselves as agents in order to bypass airport security. Gibbs informed the security staff of the number of Fahd al-Fulani's flight, and asked them to stall takeoff without tipping off the passengers to the potential problem. When they entered the gate area, the staff had already begun loading the plane. Fornell rounded the corner and spotted them, acknowledging their presence with the nod of his head. Gibbs motioned for Fornell to monitor the gate area in case al-Fulani was able to elude them, and then he and Ziva boarded the plane to apprehend the suspect. Weapon drawn, Gibbs made his way into first class while Ziva walked toward the back of the plane. Reaching the tail without spotting him, she turned and made her way to first class to assist her boss with the arrest. She pulled back the curtain to find Gibbs lying on the floor of the plane, unconscious, in a pool of his own blood. With a jolt, the plane began moving. Ziva rushed to the cockpit doors and began pounding on them. Realizing she couldn't access them, she ran to the door of the plane, but was unable to do anything to stop the plane from taxiing even faster down the tarmac. She said a quick prayer in thanks that several passengers had not yet boarded before their unexpected take-off, and for the safety of her boss. She rushed to his side and attended to his wound.

Chapter 3

"Ma'am!" Ziva shouted to a flight attendant who was cowering in the corner of first class. "Come here and help me, please," she insisted.
The pretty blonde didn't look a day over twenty-two, and had an innocence about her that Ziva hadn't seen in a long time. She approached Ziva hesitantly, unsure of what was required.
"Grab that blanket!" Ziva ordered. "This is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs," Ziva said by way of introduction, hoping it would set the girl at ease to know the identity of the man she was assisting. Ziva took the blanket and used the cloth to wipe the blood away from his head wound. She wrapped his head tightly in the blanket, and then shifted his body so that his head was lying in the young girl's lap. "Apply pressure here," Ziva explained. "Thank you," Ziva said, as she rose. "You are saving his life."
Ziva struggled to keep her thoughts off of Gibbs and on to how to stop the crazy terrorist who had hijacked the plane. She looked around the plane, trying to think of a way to stop it. He hadn't closed the door, so the cabin wasn't properly pressurized. If he succeeded in taking off, everyone in the plane would die from lack of oxygen. She knew they had to keep this plane on the ground. "Where's avionics?" Ziva asked the flight attendant.
"Umm… it's down below in the tail of the plane," the girl replied shakily.
When Ziva began to move quickly in that direction, the girl cried out, "You'll never access it! They've added a reinforced door for security," she explained.
"Crap!" Ziva said in frustration. The plane was gaining speed and making its last turn toward the runway. Time was running out, and Ziva needed to think of something quickly.
Ziva heard the engines throttle up a bit through the open door, and decided to attempt to close it before the air speed increased and it became impossible to do so. She held tightly to the handle on the inside of the plane in an attempt to keep her balance, as she reached for the door. With a quick glance to the left, she realized she could see the air intakes for the engines on that side of the plane. "Of course!" she whispered, drawing and aiming her Sig Sauer. Even though the titanium and aircraft aluminum of the engine ordinarily would not sustain much more than a scratch from a 9mm round, with the turbines spinning at tens of thousands of revolutions per minute Ziva knew that the tiny piece of lead would cause one or more of the blades on the turbine to shatter, throwing the engine out of balance and causing it to shake itself apart. Ziva fired two rounds into the first engine. She was rewarded with a plume of thick, black smoke exiting the rear of the engine, followed by a violent shudder, the sound of thrashed metal and a booming sound that shook the plane.
"Director Shepard's is going to love this," Ziva mumbled under her breath, imagining her response to the amount of money this was going to cost. She shrugged her shoulders, and then turned her attention to the other engine.
The passengers who had already boarded the plane had gathered in the part of the plane furthest from the door. Unsure how to deal with them, Ziva gave them a reassuring smile, and then rushed back into first class. She knew Al-Fulani would soon be leaving the cockpit, now that the plane was no longer air-worthy.
Ziva ejected the now-empty magazine from her weapon, and inserted her spare. She stopped to check on Gibbs, never taking her attention completely off the cockpit doors.
"How is he?" Ziva asked the flight attendant.
"He's still breathing," the girl said, still unsure of what to do.
Ziva leaned down over her boss and began running her hands across his body. The flight attendant gave her a weird look. Ziva met her gaze with a smile, and then looked at her nametag. "Sarah," she said to the girl. "Thank you for your help. You are doing fine." Finally finding her boss's extra clip, Ziva removed it from his person and placed it in her pocket. "Thanks for the back-up, Boss," she said into his ear, and then gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Stay with us," she begged him, as she rose to stand next to the cockpit doors.

---

The scene inside the airport was nearly as harried as the one in the plane. Fornell had taken over, and had begun shouting orders to the security staff as if they were his own people. Medical personnel were on-hand, and he was more than ready to take the terrorist into custody. Airport security had cracked down and the tension was thick, as no planes would be taking off or landing until the situation was resolved and the villain apprehended. Fornell grabbed his phone to contact Sacks.
"It's me," he said, and then listened for the younger agent to update him on the situation at Bethesda Hospital. He smirked in amusement at the young man's annoyance at having to take orders from one NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. "Keep me informed," he said, snapping his phone shut.
Fornell made his way back outside the gate area, where several agents were gathered watching the action unfold. It appeared the engines on one side of the plane had been destroyed, and the plane began turning in a large counter-clockwise circle in the middle of the tarmac. The plane was slowing, and Fornell suspected Al-Fulani would soon attempt to make a break for it. He coordinated his agents, as well as those from airport security, into every possible position. "Bring it on," he said under his breath. He had wanted to stop this man for some time now, and would finally get his chance.

Chapter 4

"Infidels," Al-Fulani muttered under his breath when he caught sight of the agents on the ground preparing to apprehend him. His hand gently fingered the weapon in his hand as he turned it to the side, assessing the weight. He had entered the plane unarmed, as he would never have made it through security otherwise. After boarding the plane, he noticed there were very few passengers following, although the gate area had been crowded. Suspicious by nature and always at the ready, he made his way to the restroom at the front of the plane, between the first class and coach areas. He eased into first class ahead of the male agent, and as the silver-haired man pushed through the curtain into the front section of the plane, he hit him soundly in the head with a fire extinguisher that he had grabbed from the wall outside the restroom. He grabbed the man's weapon, and then slid into the cockpit as a young flight attendant exited, securing the door behind him.

Al-Fulani stepped away from the controls, allowing the plane to slow. He peered through the peephole on the cockpit door, and could see the male agent lying in the floor, the oblivious blonde flight attendant tending to his wounds. He did not spot the female agent that had entered the plane with the silver-haired man. The young Israeli agent was standing, waiting patiently for him to exit the cabin. Her back was pressed against the wall, and her breathing making no sound. He planned his next moves out in his head: he would take the flight attendant hostage, kill the agent, find his partner and neutralize her as well, and then use the hostage to secure his release. He said a quick praise to Allah and placed an L-pill between his teeth in case things did not go according to plan. He would not be taken alive.

---

As soon as the door began to open, Ziva pointed her Sig into the crack and began to fire. Al-Fulani retreated into the cockpit, but had not expected the agent to block the door from securing. Ziva began to push her way in behind him.
"Federal Agent!" she identified herself.
"Allah Achbar!" he shouted in response, firing his weapon and grazing her shoulder.
Ziva rolled her eyes and winced, but refused to give up ground.
"Hazir," she muttered as she raised her weapon to fire. Her eye was caught by a slow movement from the corner of the cockpit, and her shot missed the terrorist by inches. Capitalizing on the advantage, Al-Fulani brought his weapon down with both hands, knocking the agent's gun from her grasp. She responded more quickly than he imagined a woman could, with a swift kick to the hand holding his gun. While dead-on in accuracy, her blow had not been enough to force the man to drop his weapon. Ziva shifted quickly to the left just as he fired, barely avoiding the bullet. She swiftly landed an elbow to Al-Fulani's temple and a simultaneous knee to the groin. He moaned, bending at the waist. Ziva laughed as she wrested the gun from his hand. She met his gaze, and with a knowing look shoved the heel of her hand into his jaw, forcing him to break the seal on the L-pill.

---

Ziva slumped against the door of the cockpit as Al-Fulani convulsed his last breath. She then gathered her energy and made her way to the floor where her boss still lay, his head still resting in the lap of the young flight attendant.
"Crazy ninja skills," she heard him mutter. She smiled as she looked into his eyes.
"All in a day's job," she replied.
"Work," he corrected her with a smirk. "All in a day's work."
"Whatever. He's dead, yes?" she asked.
"Definitely," Gibbs responded, his blue eyes became more alert with each passing moment. Her eyes reflected her concern. "I'm glad you are okay."
"Me too," he quipped. She chuckled.

Their conversation halted as FBI Special Agent Tobias Fornell entered the room.
"If you two are through lying down on the job, we have a suspect to interrogate," he said, his eyes showing relief at seeing both NCIS agents faring well.
"I'm afraid he's already answering to his maker," Gibbs answered with a chuckle.
"Then let's get you two some medical attention…" Fornell began.
"I'm fine," both Gibbs and Ziva answered simultaneously. Fornell smiled.
"What you are is stubborn," he replied. "Don't make me call the Director," he smirked.
"Oh, geez," Gibbs complained. "Can't I just have aspirin and a shot of bourbon?"
"Gibbs, you have lost a lot of blood and undoubtedly have a concussion," Ziva reasoned with her boss. "You should definitely go to the hospital."
"Only if you will," he said, inclining his head toward her bleeding shoulder.
"Deal," she said with a smile.

Ziva smoothed her hair back away from her face, pasted on a smile for the world to see, and then exited the hospital emergency cubicle. She was worried about Gibbs, but didn't want the rest of the team to glimpse the depth of her concern. Not that any of them would come even close to recognizing the reason for it, even if they were to witness said emotion. Her phony smile transformed into a sincere one when she saw Tony, Tim and Abby in the waiting room.

"…getting accustomed to the sludge they call coffee," Ziva heard Tony finish his sentence, as she walked up behind the group.

"Ziva!" Abby exclaimed, rushing to give her a huge hug. Ziva smiled. Abby was nothing if not consistent; and in this case, happy to see her. "How's Gibbs?" Abby continued. "They haven't let us in to see him yet. All we know is that he was injured, and…" Abby's voice broke in genuine concern for her boss.

"He will be fine, Abby," Ziva assured her. She turned her attention to the two men beside her who were uncharacteristically silent. "Have you even gotten to leave the hospital?" she asked curiously.

"No such luck," Tony answered. "We sent the rest of the evidence back with Ducky and Jimmy." He gave Abby a long look. "Abby SHOULD be working on…"

"Don't start with me, Tony!" Abby interrupted him, her nerves on edge. "You know I won't be able to work until I know he is okay. And Director Shepard gave me express permission."

"That isn't going to keep the FBI from getting a head-start on the investigation," Tony pointed out.

"Leave her alone," McGee interrupted. "You would do the same thing in her shoes. And it's not like Al-Fulani is going anywhere."

Ziva watched as her three coworkers bickered. She knew this was one of the ways they were coping with the situation at hand, but she couldn't bring herself to join. She made her way to the side of the group, sat in silence and waited for permission to see Gibbs.

---

They rose as a single unit when the doctor emerged from the area into which Gibbs had been taken. His eyes met theirs, and he gave them an encouraging smile.

"How is he?" Abby asked, her voice shaking a little.

"He's fine," the doctor said. "He lost a lot of blood and has a concussion. He's considerably weak, but alert. We're going to keep him overnight for observation."

The group gave a collective sigh of relief at the news. McGee immediately grabbed his phone to report back to Ducky and Director Shepard. Abby grabbed Tony and pulled him into a crushing hug.

"Can we see him?" Ziva asked. The doctor smiled in return.

"He's already asking for you," he responded with another winning smile. "He is currently being moved to a private room for the night. I'll have someone notify you when he is settled."

"Thank you," they answered, again in unison. The doctor walked away with a grin on his face.

---

"You riding with us, Zee-vah?" Tony asked, as the team began to make their exit. Now that they had been able to visit with the bossman, they had been given direct orders to get back to work and wrap up the case.

"I am going to stay here," Ziva announced, much to the surprise of the others. Seeing their shocked expressions, she continued. "We started this together, and we are going to finish it together. I will leave when Gibbs does." The expression on her face left no room for argument. "You can survive without me, yes?" she asked Tony with a smirk.

"I think we can manage," McGee answered with an understanding smile, physically steering Abby out of the room.

"Why should Ziva get to stay?" Abby asked, in a near pout.

"We have work to do Abs," Tony reminded her.

"But…" she continued to argue with them as they led her from the building. Ziva could hear Tony's insistent tones, and smiled. She had grown to love NCIS, her team and her friends. And she certainly understood Abby's position; she knew she wouldn't like it if she were the once being forced to work while Abby stayed with Gibbs.

---

"I thought I sent you back to work," Gibbs said in mock-complaint when Ziva reentered the hospital room.

"Making sure you do not cut the heads off the nurses IS work," she joked.

"I think you mean ‘bite' their heads off, and I'm not that bad," he countered. She gave him a skeptical look.

"Shall I take a survey?" she offered. He chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so bad if they had real coffee around here," he added.

"That seems to be the consensus. Tony was just complaining about the same thing," she said, settling into the chair next to his bed. "Besides, are you allowed to have coffee?" she questioned.

"What they don't know won't hurt them," Gibbs explained in his most conspiratorial tone. She laughed.

"I'll see what I can do," she answered, and began to rise from the chair. His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Wait," he said. "Don't go."

"Okay," Ziva agreed with a smile, and sat back down. She noticed he had not yet released her hand, and the subsequent sensation she was feeling as a direct result of the gesture was causing her no small amount of discomfort mixed with excitement.

"Thank you," he said simply.

At Ziva's confused look, he continued. "For saving me."

"For saving you back," she corrected. "I have never had the opportunity to repay you for your help last year. When you had retired," her voice broke remembering the situation she was in and how he came back for her. "Besides, I was doing my job."

"I will always come back for you, Ziva," Gibbs said sincerely. "No matter where I am; no matter what you need," he promised. Tears were now slowly streaming down Ziva's face as she met Gibbs' gaze.

"Thank you, Jethro," she said softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her free hand. She smiled at him. He smiled in return.

"Why do you never call me that?" he asked. "You did once," he corrected himself, "but not since."

"You are my boss. It isn't respectful. When I called you that before, you were no longer my boss," she explained.

"But you could call me that when we aren't working," he suggested.

"It would still not be appropriate," she hedged.

"Is Director Shepard your boss?" Gibbs asked her with a smirk.

"Yes," Ziva answered with a smile, already seeing the point he was about to make.

"And what do you call her after hours?" he asked.

"Jenny," she admitted.

"So, there we have it," he stated. "You aren't comfortable enough with me to call me by my first name."

She blushed. "I'd like to change that," she said in a near-whisper. Ziva held her breath as she awaited his response.

"Me too," Gibbs said quietly, as he began to gently trace random shaped on the palm of her hand with his thumb. Ziva closed her eyes and tried to focus on keeping her mind in the conversation, but the feelings his innocent caresses were causing her kept rendering her incapable of rational thought. When she opened her eyes, his were staring back; his pupils were dilated and the blue of his eyes had darkened with intensity. Her body reacted in response to his interest, and she sighed in frustration.

"What about rule number twelve?" she asked.

"We'll figure something out," he answered with a smirk.

THE END