Series: - No Series - #1
Chapters: 001 Word Count: 995
Character(s): Jethro Gibbs, Ziva David
Category(ies): Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Summary: Gibbs knows the secret home remedy Ziva needs most. Gibbs/Ziva
Written for the In Sickness challenge on the NFA
Title: Home Remedies
Author: CJ aka WritinginCT
Categories: Comfort, Fluff, Romance
Disclaimer: I don’t own the recognizable characters I’m just inspired by them. Hopefully they’ve had fun playing in my sandbox.
Note: Written for the In Sickness challenge on the NFA
Summary: Gibbs knows the secret home remedy Ziva needs most.
Status: Complete 5/22/08 926 words
When Ziva heard the knock on her door she groaned, not inwardly, but out loud and loudly. She threw off the blankets and shuffled to the door. As she threw open the door she groused, “I do nad wand any more chicken soup, I do nad wand any more ginger ale, I do nad wand do wadch a mobie. I jusd wand my bed.”
It took her a moment in her groggy, congested state to realize it was Gibbs standing on the other side of her door, with a paper bag in one hand and a grin on his face.
The team went through this a couple of times a year with Ziva. Her body still not adapting to the miserable cold and often rainy damp weather of Washington. She made the most miserable patient when she had a cold. She hated the inactivity, she hated lying around, she hated feeling miserable, and most of all she hated how everyone tried to coddle her and give her advice.
She had almost had to pull her gun on Tony last night to evict him after he dropped by with movies that he insisted would make her feel better, four hours of “chick flicks” and running Tony commentary later she was ready to scream.
McGee had also dropped by earlier in the day, dropping off a laptop and spouting techno babble a mile a minute. Her normally agile brain was in a cough syrup and cold medicine induced haze and she actually fell asleep on the couch next to him as he prattled on and on. He finally realized after a while and after pulling the afghan up and over her, he quietly left, locking the door behind him.
Abby didn't visit, but instead sent a constant stream of emails and text messages, not realizing that the buzzing of her cell phone receiving those messages along with the computer beeping for every email were not conducive to resting.
Ducky had called only once, just to make sure her fever was down and that the cold medicine he recommended was working. Other than that he left her to get the rest he knew she needed to beat her cold.
Gibbs had been the one to tell her to go home in the first place when she showed up at the office looking a little like death warmed over. Well actually, he told her to go see Ducky and then go home. And she hadn't heard from him in the two days she had been home, until now.
Gibbs knew that by day two of her cold that she would cranky, she was always cranky when she had a cold, but generally by day two she was almost waspish. He also knew that she would have had it up to her eyeballs with the “sick” food that everyone tried to foist upon her, even though Tony made a point to go to the best Jewish deli in town for several quarts of therapeutic chicken soup. And he also knew something else, something the rest of them probably didn't realize. And that was that although she whined and complained about all their mothering (smothering?) that in fact she craved the human connection and the idea that people really cared about her.
“I brought dinner.” He offered with a grin.
“I'm really nod hungry, Gibbs.” she said, fearing more chicken soup.
She let him in, and he made his way into her kitchen, and started pulling containers out of the bag. Her eyes grew large at sight of what he brought from his favorite Chinese restaurant. Hot and spicy soup, General Tso's chicken, crunchy spring rolls, and even an order of steamed dumplings with a heavy garlic sauce for dipping. He grinned again and teased, “Figured you'd be sick of chicken soup, this should clear your sinuses.”
She laughed, actually laughed for the first time in days. With a tray of food piled high, they made themselves comfortable on the couch and ate as they watched an old black and white John Wayne movie. Whether it was the spicy food that she actually ate because it tasted like food (nothing in the past two days had tasted good), or the company, she wasn't sure, but she felt a little better after dinner.
He put the remnants away in the kitchen and pulled a bottle out of the pocket of his overcoat draped on a chair. He grabbed a glass and poured her a shot and handed it to her, “Drink this.”
She looked at the glass and asked, “Whad is id?”
“My grandmother's secret weapon against colds. It's blackberry brandy. She used to swear by it.”
Ziva looked at the glass and figured what the heck and belted it down.
Gibbs knew that the real secret behind the brandy was that it would make her sleepy so she could rest. And sure enough as they were watching another old movie he could see her eyes drooping and he finally pulled her in close and prudently snagged the afghan to make sure she was warm. In no time at all she was sleeping peacefully as she reclined against his chest, lulled to sleep by the gentle rhythm of his breathing, the brandy, and his hand gently stroking her back. And when he knew she was really asleep he smiled and lightly kissed the top of her head, knowing that out of all the home remedies for her cold, sometimes Ziva just needed someone to hold her as she slept.