A/N: Before you all flame me, I am trying new things. New pairings! *SQUEE* I am a new!McGee/Ziva fan. STILL a major Tiva fan, but new!McGee/Ziva is cute. Only new!McGee though. Still McAbby though. But this is dedicated to dizzy – in - the – izzy who is awesome! And is helping me with a new multi-chapter idea. Thanks so my amazing beta, tromana.
This is post-Power Down and I got this idea in choir this morning… So here it is!
"It's been three hours already," McGee complained, staring at his watch.
"I know, McGee," Ziva answered, sounding tired and annoyed.
She had not wanted to spend her night in an elevator. At least, of course, it was McGee and not DiNozzo, although McGee was amazingly impatient and she was beginning to find him slightly irritating.
"I want to get home," McGee whined.
Ziva rolled her eyes and leaned her head against the cold elevator wall.
"Me too," she sighed.
It was eleven o'clock and she hadn't eaten since lunchtime: she was starving.
"I'm hungry," Ziva groaned and put her hand over his mouth.
"I know, McGee. I am as well," she agreed.
Suddenly, she flashed back to when she was in Somalia. She hadn't been given food for over a week at the worst times. It took her by surprise when she felt McGee's hand close over hers. He made a muffled sound that she supposed was a signal asking her to please remove her hand from his mouth. She did so, and leaned her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. When he had grasped her hand, he had felt how cold her fingers were: the heating was out and her coat wasn't very thick. He heard her yawn and he stroked her hair gently.
Her voice was small, tentative. McGee was surprised; Abby was the only colleague of his who called him by his first name, except occasionally for Ducky. Ziva had never called him Tim in the four years they had worked together.
"Yeah?" he asked, wondering what she wanted to say.
"I…" she trailed off and he heard her sigh quietly. "Never mind."
McGee guessed it was something she wasn't quite ready to say to his face, but he didn't mind.
He could wait.
Soon enough, her breathing evened out and became deeper as she fell asleep, with her head resting on his shoulder. He blinked a few times and yawned, but he couldn't get to sleep. He closed his eyes and Ziva's calm and peaceful breathing began to lull him.
McGee opened his eyes and glances at his watch.
Six hours had passed.
It was two in the morning. And he was stuck in an elevator.
Two in the morning. And he was with Ziva.
He knew which sentence he preferred.
He looked down at her sleeping form. During his time asleep, she had rearranged herself and her head now rested on his legs, her hair fanning out over his trousers.
She looked so calm. So innocent. So vulnerable. So… un-Ziva-ish.
Her voice was heavy with sleep, and it was obvious she wasn't quite awake.
"Yes, Ziva?" he replied.
"I love you."
The words were slurred into each other and she soon fell silent again. McGee's forehead creased in slight confusion. Was she joking about? But he realized that she was asleep again, and she had probably been mostly asleep when she had spoken.
He realized that's what she had been going to say earlier, when she had left her sentence hanging in the air.
She wouldn't remember what she had said when she woke up.
Eventually, she would tell him again.
He could wait.
A/N: So what did you think? Feedback would be much appreciated!