FIRST STORY IN A WHILE GUYS, PLEASE DON'T THROW 'EM TOES. I HAVE NO RIGHTS.
- .5baked -
Ziva stared at her reflection critically. Her usually untamable dark hair hung in long curls down her bare back; she'd allowed her nails to grow out and had even polished them a dark burgundy red, her eye lids shimmered lightly with a smoky brown lacquer, and her lips shone with the touch of a nude colored gloss. Yes it was a far cry from her normal self but she wasn't yet sure if it was a bad one. There was a soft knock on the door and after securing the towel wrapped around her petite frame she tugged the door open coming face to face with her partner Anthony DiNozzo. "You almost ready?" he asked as he subtly took in her change of appearance, stepping into the hotel room and closing the door. She nodded slowly and then turned away from him pretending to search around in her duffel bag for a moment while trying to rein in a sudden surge of emotion. She hadn't truly expected a reaction from him but as always it hadn't stopped her from hoping. She sighed heavily as she rubbed one hand across her eyes; she had not had enough sleep for this.
The red lingerie from her bag was her own touch, something she had bought on a whim after questioning the hotel's boutique cashier. After slyly pulling it from her bag she turned to Tony and motioned for him to turn around before she dropped the towel around her ankles and slowly slid the silk up her body. Her right hand snaked around her back and she straightened as she pulled the zipper as far as she could, pulling the silk snug against her skin. "You can turn around now," she murmured after brushing her hair back and smoothing the material out. Walking towards the full length mirror, Ziva found herself searching not for her reflection this time but for his eyes. She smiled into the mirror, watching them roam her transformed body. The form fitting lingerie was no doubt a shock after seeing her in cargo pants and loose t-shirts day in and day out. "You like it then, yes?" she asked, turning to face him. He smirked but didn't make any attempt to reply. Taking a step towards the huge mahogany bed Tony leaned against the post and motioned for her to come closer. Perplexed she followed, intending to move next to him but when she got close he abruptly pulled her to his front. His hand was on her hip, rubbing his thumb over the thin silk covering her back. "You have goose bumps" he said casually, letting a finger trail up her arm, and then sweeping her hair out of the way so it rested over her shoulder. "I… What are goose mumps?" she whispered, trying to wrap her mind around the intensity of the moment. "Never mind," he said, moving both hands to her bare shoulders, his voice back to his usual sarcastic tone, "now let me fix this zipper". She was sure he heard her sigh.
***
The dress was beautiful and Ziva wasn't sure why that surprised her. He did after all have good, if expensive, taste. He had given her a choice of color, and she had said she didn't care. It was an assignment; the dress did not matter much. But the golden-champagne colored dress she pulled from the box was perfect, exquisite down to every detail; it was so unlike anything she would ever pick out to wear, yet as she stepped into it she knew he had picked it out specifically for her. He knew her too well. He left the room after handing her the box with the dress. He hadn't said anything, not a word. Though that last look had made her chest hurt in a way she wasn't sure she wanted to understand. Shoving her NCIS identification into a small chocolate-colored clutch and securing her gun at her thigh Ziva reprimanded herself sternly; this was a mission and her silly emotions were not going to compromise it.
***
McGee offered her his hand and she took it, sliding across the leather seats and gracefully exiting the white monstrosity Gibbs had called a limo. Letting McGee slip his arm around her waist, she peered around at the gathered crowd of photographers and television news personnel as she and her 'date', the famous author version, strode across the red carpet; nothing suspicious so far. "What if he didn't follow her here," McGee whispered as they walked down the staircase into the dim room lit only by the soft glow of candles, faerie lights, and one large chandelier. It was at that moment she caught her first glimpse of Tony in the corner, talking to a beautifully dressed, busty blonde. Ziva sighed, "Men are predictable McGee, he's sure to be here somewhere".
Tim excused himself not long after to go talk to someone he had spotted across the room and left Ziva to sit at the table and observe. Pulling her fake crystal rimmed eye glasses from her clutch Ziva pretended to take a closer look at the dinner menu while she surreptitiously inspected the room, letting the camera take in all the faces. It was then that she felt his gaze on her, though she didn't let on. In the back of her mind she knew it was only physical. She had changed the way she looked and now he noticed her, how typical. But her heart would not let her listen to her head and putting down the menu she turned to find him, surprised to see him standing right behind her. "That dress looks beautiful on you," he said after taking a seat next to her and handing her a glass of champagne. "Thanks," she replied, pushing the warm feeling in her belly away. "You clean up well yourself". He laughed at her movie reference and she smiled. Why did she have to love his laugh so much? After the song playing ended he asked her to dance, and as she twirled around the ballroom in his arms it came to her how right it felt being there with him. Laying her head across his chest, his one hand placed lightly on her back the other wrapped in her hair gripping her neck to him, she made a resolution with herself that after tonight she had to move on.
…Here in your arms where the world is impossibly still,
with a million dreams to fulfill,
and a matter of moments until the dancing ends.
Here in your arms when everything seems to be clear,
not a solitary thing would I fear,
except when this moment comes near the dancing's end…
***
At the end of the night, when the bad guy was behind bars and everyone else had gone home to soft pillows and pajamas, Ziva sat down in front of the large window in the bull pen and stared at the fine white specks that danced in the sky. Pressing her forehead against the cool glass she closed her eyes and fought the encroaching memories. It had been two years ago, almost to the night, that Tony had graced her front steps with a box of movies in one hand and cold beer in the other informing her rudely that she needed to be cultured. Ziva realized now that she had become accustomed to those nights, an easy routine they picked up that stayed just between them. Their movie nights ended abruptly when that woman had entered the picture though. She had not watched a movie since their last nearly a year and a half ago, Kate and Leopold she thought it was called. At the time she had considered it a child's movie, a pointless romantic fantasy. Now though, as she sat with the beautiful golden dress tucked back in its box on his desk she let the sound of the song that had been playing as they danced fill her ears. What irony.
…Here in your arms where the world is impossibly still,
with a million dreams to fulfill,
and a matter of moments until the dancing ends.
Here in your arms when everything seems to be clear,
not a solitary thing would I fear,
except when this moment comes near the dancing's end
Oh, if I caught the world in an hourglass,
saddled up the moon and we would ride,
until the stars grew dim.
Until the time that time stands still. Until...
P.S. IF IT ISN'T CLEAR IN THE STORY, THE SONG AT THE END THAT ZIVA IS REMEMBERING... IT'S FROM KATE AND LEOPOLD THE LAST MOVIE SHE WATCHED WITH TONY.
THANKS FOR READING!
- .5baked -