A/N: Okay guys! While I was on my semi-Hiatus last week, I had this idea. I didn't have a computer to type it up on so here you go! Just a different idea I had. I really hope that you guys like it! Also, I will be updating my other two stories very soon! I promise but I just had to get this one off my chest. I have a somewhat idea of how this is going to play out but it's not set in stone. If you would like to submit your ideas, if you have any, you may. So, and please let's get to like 10 reviews or so before I update again! They make my day. Everyone who reviews will get a cookie! Or a slice of pie! Whichever you prefer, it is virtual and all! Enough rambling for now! On to my new masterpiece!
DISCLAIMER:NCIS IS NOT MINE! OH HOW I WISH IT WAS THOUGH! AND I THINK YOU ALL KNOW WHICH EPISODE THIS CAME FROM!
THE FIRST REVIEW I GET WITH THE RIGHT ANSWER WILL BE HONORED NEXT CHAPTER!
" . . . after I go get a Nutter Butter." I rolled my eyes. Man, they are so naïve! He loves her and she loves him, so why don't they just admit it? We all know the answer to that; well actually, there are a lot of ways to answer that question:
1)Stupid Rule #12
2)They would get too caught up and it would interfere with their jobs
3)Gibbs and Vance would have their heads
4)Even if they could convince Gibbs and Vance, Eli would have Tony drawn and quartered and Ziva locked away in a tower somewhere so she would have no contact with anyone.
Every day, I come into work, usually after Ziva. She will be typing away at her keyboard or something, just waiting until Gibbs gets there to tell them if they have a case or not. Her eyes glance up at the clock every five minutes. She is wondering why Tony is late. Her head soon fills with all of these horrible scenarios and I can see that her mind is racing. She will look up at the elevator every time it dings. She will stare at his desk, just wishing that he was there to meet her gaze. She is so desperate to know where he is and that he is okay. If he was not okay, I believe that she would explode. Just my theory.
Stupid cop. There was no partner. HE killed the three guys in the hotel room. And he thought that we couldn't . . . figure . . . that . . . out. Tim's thoughts slowed as he approached the men's room. Voices. Why does everyone use places that are not a conference room for their conference room when there is a conference room upstairs? Wait, is that Ziva? I leaned my ear closer to the door at an attempt to here the conversation inside.
Tony felt a pair of dark brown eyes burning into the back of his head. "How long have you been standing there?" Ziva walked over to the counter. "Long enough to see that you are well hydrated after your time in the desert." Tony turned the faucet off and began to dry his hands. "And sneaking behind and surprising me?" Ziva sighed. "I was not sure what to say." Tony mutters, "But you were sure that it had to be said in the men's room." He tossed the paper towel into the trash can. He faced the mirror once again, straightening his tie. "I'm sure it had to be said." Tony didn't respond. "When you shot Michael, I almost killed you where you stood." "I wasn't standing," he corrected. Ziva nodded in acknowledgement,"No, you weren't. You were on the ground…without adequate backup…completely violating protocol," "And double-parked." "Yes, I noticed." Tony continued to stare into his own reflection, avoiding Ziva's gaze. "But that doesn't matter. Just like, it doesn't matter how it worked out…for Michael." Tony leaned his hands on the counter and spat out, "So, what does?" Ziva moved closer to him, placing a hand between his on the counter. "That you had my back. That you have always had my back." Ziva blinked repeatedly, batting away tears that now clouded her vision. Tony, you idiot, you can't top that now. Just tell her now, or she may never know. I blew it with Abby because I didn't tell her how I felt. I just couldn't find the nerves. You, well just do it Tony. McGee thought, cheering Tony on from the other side of the door.
Back inside the men's room, Tony turned to face Ziva. "And that I was wrong to question your motives." He still refused to meet her gaze. "So, why did you?" "I trusted my brother Ari. I trusted Michael. I could not afford to trust you." Ziva looked at Tony's face, searching for any sign of expression. "I thought you didn't know what to say?" His green eyes finally look into her chocolate brown ones. "I had a lot of time to think about . . . things." She looks down at the floor then back at Tony. "I'm sorry, Ziva." She shakes her head. "No. It is I who am sorry." At that, Ziva reached one hand up to Tony's face, cupping one cheek, and lightly kissed him on the other. Tony stood there in awe. He kept his straight face and didn't even breathe. She let go and looked at him for what seemed like forever. All she wanted was to tell him how she really felt. But she knew that she couldn't. She knew, no matter how hard she wished, they would never be; they could never be. Silence. Tony is probably just staring into her eyes and deciding whether to tell her or not. The voice in Timothy's head had butted in. Okay Tim, don't take this into your own hands. It's none of your business. And, sure enough, McGee butted back. Damn right it's my business. They are my closest friends. They deserve to be together; to be happy. After that wonderful subconscious argument, Tim pulled his iPhone from his jacket pocket.