Never Be The Same Again, a ncis fanfic

A/N: A massive 'thank you' to Aly for beta-ing this on short notice.

For ME Wofford - a Tiva birthday present. I was supposed to write this for you last year...

Never Be The Same Again

Timothy McGee smiled around at his friends. After a long day at work, nothing beat relaxing in a bar watching a game – the Jacksonville Jaguars and the Tennessee Titans.

The game was good, the bar was packed, and Abby was insisting on buying the drinks with her recent tax refund. The Goth was busy keeping up a running commentary on the game while simultaneously worrying aloud about Gibbs, who had, unsurprisingly in McGee's opinion, decided to stay at home with his boat tonight. She was also, whenever she thought she could get away with it without being caught by Tony and Ziva, resting her hand on Tim's thigh. He'd had to move it several times when it had snuck higher.

Not that their two partners in crime would ever notice. DiNozzo and David were far too busy trying to hide their feelings for each other while oblivious to the others. Tony was over by the bar, flirting with any passing skirt, while Ziva sat with them in the corner of the room. The glare she was directing at her partner could have killed a lesser man.

McGee privately wondered if either would ever realize. Even Deep Six and its sequel hadn't succeeded in shaking them out of their stupor. He didn't know if it was Rule Twelve, an ability to see what was right in front of them, a fear of falling in love, or a combination of all three that were holding them back. He wasn't going to be the one to tell them that Abby had persuaded Gibbs to recant one of his precious Rules as long as the ex-marine could build a sniper's nest if they ever split up.

Gulping down his drink, he reached across and held Abby's hand. She smiled warmly at him, having finally paused her narration as the television switched to a commercial. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as Ziva continued to pay them absolutely no attention. Why was he worrying about his teammates when the women he loved was right next to him?

I call you up whenever things go wrong.
You're always there. You are my shoulder to cry on.
I can't believe it took me quite so long
To take the forbidden step.
Is this something that I might regret?

Ziva David glared at the back of her partner's head while he ogled a blonde at the bar, oblivious to the imminent threat to certain body parts he held dear.

What was he doing? This was supposed to be a team outing, and hence they should stick together. McGee was not running off with strange women; he was sitting with them and patiently listening to Abby. Why were the rules different for Tony?

She was well aware of her bias in this situation. Ducky had been right: she was like a woman with an errant lover. Except Tony was not her lover and did not love her. She could only watch from afar as he lived his life apart from her.

She was in love with him. Her. Ziva David. Ex-Mossad assassin. Probationary NCIS agent. Ice queen who dispatched her prey without batting an eyelid. Uncaring.

And yet she was in love.

With Anthony DiNozzo.

A man with the mind of a child. A man who fell in love with every woman he met and fell out of love three weeks later like clockwork. A man who had a movie quote for each and every occasion, and delighted in living up to the challenge. An immature frat boy who could not begin to fathom all the pain she had experienced in her life.

Despite the wisdom of pop songs, love was a complicated mess and she knew better than to give into it. She had seen it leave such devastation in its wake. She was not the type of person who got the chance to live happily ever after.

Then again, she was used to throwing herself into difficult situations and had a knack of surviving.

(Come on, come on)
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
(You are the one)
A lonely heart that can't be tamed.
(Come on, come on)
I'm hoping that you feel the same.
This is something that I can't forget.

Anthony DiNozzo suppressed a groan as he struck out yet again. What was wrong with him tonight? He was pretty sure the Probie hadn't put his photo on the Herpes Alert website again…

Truth be told, he knew exactly why he was having problems; he was too distracted. It was hard to flirt with beautiful women when there was one who outclassed them all sitting on the other side of the bar. It was hard to keep all his attention on them when he did not know whether she was chatting to a handsome stranger. It wasn't as though he could turn around to check either as she always knew when he was watching her. And he wanted to be able to walk out of the bar under his own steam.

He loved her, of this he was sure. His feelings for Jeanne had never held a candle to his feelings for Ziva. The whole experience had only opened his eyes to the fact that he was, surprisingly, capable of commitment. He only wished he could have learnt that lesson under better circumstances.

He didn't deserve her. She was too intelligent, too beautiful, too sneaky, too exotic to pay any attention to him. She could kill him with her little finger (or a paperclip or a credit card…) if she wanted to or if she was simply bored. And her eyes… her eyes showed all the pain and horror she'd experienced in her life while he had been enjoying himself. He didn't deserve her and they were too different.

Yet their partnership, their friendship, could survive these differences. It was what made the two of them into a powerful team, an unstoppable force. Could they survive a transition from friends to lovers?

He knew he didn't stand a chance. She was too far out of his league – the whole Rivkin debacle had proved that. She didn't love him, didn't care about him in that way.

But he still couldn't get her out of his heart.

I thought that we would just be friends.
Things will never be the same again.
It's just the beginning it's not the end.
Things will never be the same again.
It's not a secret anymore
Now we've opened up the door.
Starting tonight and from now on
We'll never, never be the same again.
Never be the same again.

Ziva David breathed in another deep lungful of cold air, feeling her head start to clear. She was not drunk, but she had definitely had a few too many. She could feel the alcohol coursing through her veins, slowing her reflexes.

The evening had been nice, despite Tony abandoning them. McGee had been thoughtful and caring, and they had ended up discussing the game in great detail. Abby had kept the drinks coming and always had something to say when the conversation had lagged. When they had left the bar, a little earlier than she would have liked, but they did have work the next day and Gibbs did not believe in slacking, the Goth had hugged her tightly and McGee had offered to drive her home.

So why had she accepted Tony's offer of a walk?

Admittedly, the bar was not far from her apartment, but she could look after herself and Tony would have to walk back to retrieve his car. Or perhaps not, considering he was too drunk to drive.

Her apartment building loomed up out of nowhere and she wondered whether Tony expected her to invite him in. They had not spoken since she had accepted his offer of an escort home; she was not confident she would not hurt him physically if they ended up talking about his behavior in the bar. For his part, Tony was sauntering along with his hands in his pockets, which was not an advisable method of protection. She was beginning to wish she had allowed McGee to drive her back.

He followed her into her apartment without saying a word; she wondered if he would crash on her couch. It made sense – she could drop him off to be reunited with his precious car in the morning. She began to locate the items necessary for a comfortable night on her couch.

"What are you doing?"

Ziva turned around at the sound of his voice. He sounded curious, as though he did not understand he was a guest.

"You cannot drive," she reminded him.

His eyes never left her face. She had never felt so scrutinized; it was as if he had never seen her before. His gaze was intense and she could not look away as he drew nearer. Their breath mingled for a few moments before he leant forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Now I know that we were close before.
I'm glad I realized I need you so much more.
And I don't care what everyone will say.
It's about you and me
And we'll never be the same again.

Light. Too much light. Tony DiNozzo groaned and covered his eyes with his left arm. Jeez. Where had all this light come from? His bedroom faced west and he was fairly sure he hadn't slept that long.

Memories of the previous night assaulted him. The bar. Ziva. Very slowly, he removed his arm from his head and opened his eyes.

This was most definitely not his bed. His partner was curled up beside him, one arm slung across his bare torso, as naked as the day she was born and fast asleep. At least she wasn't snoring or threatening him with various weapons. Yet.

His first coherent thought, after realizing she was not beyond causing serious harm to him, was that a repeat performance was in order. Last night had been damn good; Ziva hadn't lied about being a screamer. They had a lot of sexual tension to burn off and a couple of hours before Gibbs expected them in the Navy Yard. They could always stay in bed all day and ring in sick. The Boss would have to live without them if they both caught food poisoning from the bar.

He reached over and stroked his lover's back gently. Such soft skin for such a prickly person.

And then he realized staying in bed was not perhaps his best idea. Sure, he hadn't been drunk last night but he hadn't been sober either. He had no idea whether she would remember what had happened or if she would think he had taken advantage of her. Maybe lying in bed, waiting for an assassin to wake up, was a bad idea. He was rather fond of certain tender parts of his anatomy. They could always discuss this later, over lunch, with plenty of witnesses.

As much as it bothered him to leave her when she looked so defenseless, so young, so adorable, he slowly and carefully slipped out from under her. This was for the best. It wasn't as though they could take back what they'd done.

I thought that we would just be friends (oh yeah)
Things will never be the same again. (Never be the same again)
It's just the beginning it's not the end (We've only just begun)
Things will never be the same again.
It's not a secret anymore
Now we've opened up the door. (Opened up the door)
Starting tonight and from now on
We'll never, never be the same again.
Never be the same again.

Timothy McGee was not having the best of days. The woman he loved was snowed under with DNA samples, and had warned him not to come anywhere near her lab unless he brought a Caf-Pow! and was prepared to assist. His boss was in a foul mood for no apparent reason and dealing with him was akin to walking across a minefield. They had no case to deal with, only mountains of paperwork.

And Tony and Ziva were acting oddly.

They had been fine when he had last seen them. Outside the bar, he had been surprised when Tony had offered to walk his partner home and astonished by Ziva's answer. They must have had more to drink than he'd thought. But neither of them seemed hungover now.

Ziva had arrived at her desk first, violently tossing her rucksack onto the floor and glaring at Tony's desk. She had visibly forced herself to calm down when Tim had asked if she was okay. Despite her fierce glare when Tony had eventually arrived, the pair were still on speaking terms.

Barely.

Their usual banter was non-existent. They only communicated when absolutely necessary and then only with the utmost professionalism. It was as though they had never been friends or partners for the last five years.

Something had happened. Something had most definitely happened. He couldn't ask them, even if Gibbs magically had a sudden personality transplant and decided to encourage personal conversations during work hours, as he knew they would deny the problem. And he couldn't theorize and conspire with Abby as the forensic scientist was too busy. Unless…

"Erm, boss? Abby says she needs an assistant for the day."

Night and day.
Black beach sand to red clay.
The US to UK, NYC to LA.
From sidewalks to highways.
See it'll never be the same again.
What I'm sayin
My mind frame never changed til you came rearranged.

Most of the time, Ziva David enjoyed being in the squad room. Bustling, noisy, familiar – it reminded her of Mossad. Of Israel, her homeland, a life she had left behind.

She loved America more. It had welcomed her with open arms, given her a chance to start afresh. She had made friends instead of contacts, discovered hidden depths to herself that she had not known to exist, and could sleep at night without wondering about whatever dangerous and possibly suicidal mission her father was planning on assigning her to next.

Whenever Gibbs was in a bad mood, the squad room became an unbearable environment. With no one prepared to risk his wrath, the noise level dropped drastically. People called with information or emailed it to avoid a short trip into his line of fire. Even the team did not know how to deal with him and thus tried to keep out of the way.

Today, she would have welcomed the usual chaos. It would have distracted her from the man sitting opposite, the man who had slept with her last night and disappeared at dawn.

She had not expected him to stay; they both wanted different things – he wanted sex, she wanted love. But she had still been disappointed when he had left without a word. Now she understood the reason for Rule Twelve. She could not exactly work well with Tony when she wanted to rip him limb from limb. Instead, she was ignoring her partner, well aware that Gibbs would start asking questions if she got blood on the carpet. Perhaps it was due to his anger against the world, but he had yet to notice the fractures in his team.

This could not go on for much longer. Something was going to have to break.

But sometimes it seems completely forbidden
To discover those feelings that we kept so well hidden.
Where there's no competition
And you render my condition,
Though improbable, it's not impossible
For a love that could be unstoppable.

The knock on her door later that evening was not unexpected. Ziva knew they had to deal with this situation before Gibbs figured it out and exploded, or Abby put two and two together and screamed the place down, thus alerting Gibbs who would explode.

Nevertheless, she had hoped for a few more hours to herself before having to deal with Tony. The day had been stressful; they had not been able to resume their banter, their playfulness, and whenever he had answered the phone and started to smile, it had taken all her self-restraint to stop herself from strangling him with the cord.

Sleeping with Tony had to have been the worst mistake she had ever made. And that was saying something coming from her.

Her plan for the evening had been simple. A glass of wine, a long bath to unwind, possibly a quick trip to the firing range to channel her frustration and anger into something more productive. But Tony was continuing to mess her around. He must have driven straight to her apartment from the Navy Yard.

The knock came again and she wondered if she could just ignore him. He was not stupid enough to pick the lock when he knew she was armed and waiting on the other side. All he was going to do was tell her that he had made a massive mistake and break her heart. Did she really need to hear him say the words?

The knock was more insistent this time. Sighing, she stood up and walked to the door. A lifetime of paranoia made her check the peephole before opening it and glaring at her visitor.

"Jeez, Zee-vah," he drawled, drawing her name out in the way she disliked and clearly trying to ease the tension with a little humor. "You're acting like I killed your puppy last night."

"I do not have a puppy," she answered, confused. "But if you are threatening any future puppy of mine –"

He rolled his eyes and pushed past her into her apartment. She gave up, having concluded they were getting nowhere with this particular conversation. Shutting the door behind her, she watched him pace back and forth in front of her couch. When he abruptly stopped still, she almost reached for her gun.

"I don't think last night was a mistake," he told her.

But wait.
A fine line's between fate and destiny.
Do you believe in the things that were just meant to be?
When you tell me the stories of your quest for me,
Picturesque is the picture you paint effortlessly.

On the drive over, Tony DiNozzo had tried as hard as he could to summon the courage to tell Ziva the truth. The problem was that he couldn't lose sight of the whole ex-Mossad, sneaky ninja assassin chick thing.

If he told Ziva he loved her, she was either going to laugh in his face or kill him painfully. He wasn't sure which he'd prefer. But he wasn't sure whether he could lie and tell her it was all a mistake either. His only real mistake had been leaving her that morning.

Could they ever make a relationship work? He doubted it; they were both too screwed up. He couldn't commit; she would kill him if he messed up in any way. They both hid behind a layer of masks, too afraid to show their true selves. He acted the clown; she was cold and aloof. Could they trust each other enough to open up?

When he had reached her door, he had made his mind up to lie. It would be easier for them both. Yet when she had opened the door, despite her glare, he had wanted nothing more than to kiss her again. She was so beautiful, so perfect, that he had fallen in love with her all over again, if such a thing were possible.

After his announcement, she had looked at him as though he had grown another head. He decided to plough on with his explanation before his nerve defeated him.

"I know we weren't sober, but we knew what we were doing and we wouldn't have done anything if we both hadn't wanted to. You would have chopped me into little pieces if I'd gone an inch further than you wanted. It wasn't a mistake. I've wanted you since the moment you walked into my life and I've loved you since we were trapped in that metal box together. Maybe I would have said something a lot sooner if we hadn't got caught up in the Frog disaster and if you hadn't been all over Rivkin, but we're here now and we can make it work."

And as our energies mix and begin to multiply,
Everyday situations, they start to simplify.
So things will never be the same between you and I.
We intertwined our life forces and now we're unified.

Ziva David was surprised at the tear she could feel falling down her face. She was amazed she had not run out the door at Tony's somewhat rambling but heartfelt declaration of love. And she was incredulous that he felt the same way.

How had she missed this? She was supposed to be an investigator. Okay, sometimes she struggled with her interviews – she couldn't help it if she wanted to hurt the people she was interrogating – but this had more to do with observation and she was a good observer.

How could anything ever be the same again? In the movies, the sun would be shining, birds would sing and small woodland creatures would dance. While she wanted to dance herself, she was still in her apartment, at night, listening to the cars driving past and the hum of the AC. She was not watching any more Disney movies, that was for sure.

"Say something," Tony mumbled. It took her a moment to realize he was interpreting her silence the wrong way. "Damn, I made you cry."

"I am not crying," she denied even as she wiped the tear away.

Tony was most definitely nervous. "I'm going to leave before you kill me," he decided, stepping past her to reach the door again.

She caught his arm. "I do not want to kill you," she informed him. "I… I love you too." It felt strange to say the words, and even stranger when it felt like a weight being lifted off her chest.

He turned to look at her again, the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

"So, what do we do now?" she asked.

He smirked as he kissed her.

Tony DiNozzo woke slowly, not feeling any sense of urgency. A warm arm was draped across him and a slither of light from the rising sun made it into the bedroom. He couldn't think of anywhere better to be.

Ziva was curled up to him in much the same way she had been the previous morning. Except this morning they were both on the same wavelength. He had high hopes for a repeat performance of last night.

His lover stirred next to him, stretching like a cat before opening her eyes slowly. He made a mental note not to tell her how cute she was for a few more weeks. She might have forgiven him for announcing his love to her like a lovesick teenager, but she had a reputation to uphold.

Their eyes met and they began to grin simultaneously. Maybe they would call in sick today after all.