A/N: I just had to post this seperately. It's actually the second last chapter of another story of mine, 'The Dude in The Dumpster', but I just had to post it as a one-shot. I hope you like it, and for those waiting for an update for previously mentioned story; it's coming but I just need some time, I don't want to mess up the last chapter.

Disclaimer: I hate writing these things. It's like they just try to rub in (Like Ziva, I mess up idioms. Did I get that one right?) the fact that I don't own NCIS and there is not a great probability I ever will...

They were currently standing in the bathroom of the restaurant they were in. It kind of resembled them; it seemed like all of their important talks had been in restrooms, and he knew in advance, this was most definitely going to be important. He realised this was going to be the first time he had ever told a girl –even though she was so much more to him than just a girl- he loved her first. Never had he been the first one to say that, and as a matter of fact, he could only remember telling one other person -besides his mother- Jeanne. He remembered the way he had been head over heels in love with her, how he had wanted it to last, how he had wished it to be real. But, the dreaded day had come and she had found out the truth. He, however, hadn't. Not that day. The day he had found out how he really felt, the day he had realised the depth of love was the day Ziva left. Yes, he had been in love with Jeanne, he had loved her and still cared a great deal for her, but his feelings for Ziva were something different. He wasn't just in love with her, he loved her. Deeply, passionately and wholeheartedly. And he was going to tell her. The only reason he had been postponing it was simply the fact that he had been a coward. He had to get it out, and better to just get it over with right now.

Ziva was a little irritated. She had been having a good time drinking with Abby and just talking. It was one of the things she had missed so much when she was in Somalia; being able to laugh, to move freely, to just forget all the murder and pain and horrible but –at least for them- everyday sights for a moment. She had just ordered another drink when Tony had whisked her away, pulling her into the only unoccupied space in the entire establishment.

"Why are we in the bathroom, Tony?"

"Because I have to tell you something, Ziva." His tone matched the serious look on his face, and for a second Ziva worried there was something wrong, that he was going to tell her something bad had happened.

"I love you."

Oh God. Had he really just said that? No, he couldn't have. Wait, was she dreaming? She bit her lip, unconsciously trying to reassure herself she wasn't laying in her bed right now, ready to wake up when Tony would call her, telling her they had a case. Only when the rusty salt taste of blood reached her tongue she realised she had bit her lip so hard it was drawing blood, and Tony was looking at her expectantly.

"What… What are you talking about? I almost killed you." She said, remembering those weeks after Michael's death. Why would he love her if she had left him only so recently, if she had hurt him so badly? There was no reason for him to love her. She was just a soldier, caring only for her country, killing every enemy in sight with a smoking gun and a murdering stare. He, on the other hand, had come for her even when he thought she was dead, had been there for her even when she had pushed him away so violently. He was a better person, and deserved so much better.

"I love you, Ziva David." He said with honest eyes, and she had to admit she liked the way it sounded, the way the words were formed on his lips. "I love your beautiful hair. I love your smile, the way your eyes light up when you laugh. I love the way you walk, the way you mess up idioms and never use contractions. I love your personality, your stubbornness and the fact that you never give up." He paused, and something in his eyes just made her melt inside. "Don't give up on me, Ziva."

Ziva couldn't say anything. She just couldn't make her lips move, she couldn't make her tongue produce the words she was seeking for, the confirmation he needed so desperately. So instead, she just lunged herself forward, crashing his lips with hers. She desperately held on to him, determined never to let him go again. His hands were running up her body, one resting on her back and one tangling in her hair, reminiscing the softness of it, making sure never to forget the way it felt. Her tongue slid into his mouth, savouring the sweet taste of his lips on hers, his strong hands pressing her up against his body. Their tongues danced together, and suddenly he pressed her up a wall, never breaking the kiss. She grabbed his lapels, pulling him even closer and every fibre in her body wanting to touch him. She felt his increased heartbeat under his shirt as she lifted her hand to his chest, soothing and caressing his body. He nipped at her lip before pulling away the slightest bit, his breathing laboured from the long kiss, and his eyes filled with hope.

She answered the question that had been momentarily forgotten and all he could do is smile. "Never."

A/N: Liked it? Review please, they make my day.

Anne.