Completely insufferable
Author's Note: I got sucked in to NCIS somewhere around the Christmas marathons, and while I've seen all of the seasons now, I never got a chance to write about the earlier seasons. So to celebrate summer vacation, I got season 4 on DVD. This piece will be a series of episode tags and missing scenes that I come up with as I work my way through it, focusing on Tony and Ziva, though not necessarily romantically. Slightly AU. Disclaimer hereby declaimed.
The first chapter takes places post-Hiatus 2 and pre-Shalom, inspired by one of Ziva's lines in Shalom.
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They are watching a documentary about bears, Ziva alternately mocking it and gasping incredulously, Tony responding by defending the film and teasing her, the way they do. This has become something of a routine for them, and for all the flirting that goes on, they are comfortable. They know where the line is. But then she is leaning up, into his space, a little closer than usual, a little more seriously.
"Ziva, we probably shouldn't," Tony says, but his eyes spend a long moment on her lips.
"Probably not," she agrees as his eyes meet hers again, and then she kisses him. Her mouth is soft and warm and when, after a few seconds, he begins to kiss her back, Ziva swings a leg across Tony's lap and straddles him. He groans into her mouth and pulls back. His eyes warn her that he has not yet committed to this, that he still thinks it's a bad idea. She kisses him harder, deeper, and feels him react; his hands are groping now, one slipping up the back of her shirt, the other on her ass pulling her against him.
A few minutes pass before they breathe, but suddenly Ziva finds Tony's hands on her upper arms, holding her a few inches further from him than she'd like right now.
"What, Tony?"
"We can't, Ziva."
"Sure we can." She rolls her hips against him, staring into his eyes, and watches him grit his teeth against the gasp that her body elicits. She leans forward to press her lips into the crook of his neck, but Tony holds her firmly upright.
She pulls back. "You're serious?" She's suddenly embarrassed, his rejection like ice water flowing over her. She cannot remember the last time she's failed at a seduction. Worse, she can—a married Hassidic man.
One of Tony's hands catches her chin as she shifts away from him. "Ziva. I want you right now, I know you know that." She's not looking away and his hand falls from her chin to her hip. He's right. They way their bodies are pressed there's no way she can interpret this as lack of desire. "I have to lead the team and the way you and I work, we couldn't be there, like that, and here like this. I know you see that."
He's right, she does, but at this moment she couldn't care less. It's been nearly a year since she's felt the weight of him sinking her into a bed, and his hand on her hip is reminding her how much they still have to explore. He takes his hand away when he realizes he's distracting her, and she meets his eyes again.
"Ziva, I can't." Both of his hands are off of her now. It's sweet in a way, she thinks. He's trusting her not to touch him, not to push him now that he's said no. She could; it's still an option. If she kissed him now, she's pretty sure Tony couldn't summon up the willpower to push her away again. Instead of fantasizing, she looks into his face. His eyes are pleading. He needs her to make this decision for herself, but he also needs her to choose what he needs her to. For all that he's exerting control, he is weak here, has felt weak since Gibbs abandoned them. She can't take his power away.
Instead, she swings herself back off his lap, next to him on the couch now, with her legs drawn up and her arms hugging them close. Tony's hands grip his kneecaps. Self-control can be exhausting.
"Should I leave?" she asks softly.
"Yes." It's a slap in the face even though she anticipated it. "But not—just for tonight."
"So you can jerk off in the shower?" Her tone is back to its normal sass even though the image that springs to mind is more than a little alluring to her right now.
"Now where exactly did you learn that little bit of American slang?" He's teasing; they are back in safe territory again. They are people they know again. Tony's hands are still clenched on his knees.
Ziva stands, looks down at him. Other nights she has kissed his cheek good-bye. She almost leans to do it now, to restore the normalcy or perhaps to push its boundaries further. Instead she touches his cheek with an open hand.
"Goodnight, Tony." She is still embarrassed at some level, but she keeps her face open to him, lets him read into her unabashed affection what he will.
He nods, swallowing hard. Her fingers are grazed by his stubble as she pulls away and this is it, the moment when the tension is unbearable and it's up to her to walk away. So she does.
A week later, she tells Gibbs Tony has been completely insufferable since he left, glaring at Tony all the while. Under the glare is an undercurrent of relief. The way Tony can't stop staring at her, safe and alive even if wanted for espionage, tells her she hasn't imagined anything; someday, somehow, they will make sense of this thing between them.