Because losing a job and losing income means things are going to start getting really expensive really fast. (I may have been there a handful of times.) Spoilers for "Damned if you Do," AU from there.
Roommates
It had been a week since they'd resigned, a week of unemployment before Ziva arrived at Tony's door. She hadn't called or texted first, in fact, it was the first he'd heard from her all day.
This wasn't customary for the two of them, to just arrive at the other's place, so when it happened, he knew there must be something wrong. Wordlessly, he stepped aside and let her in, and wordlessly, she stepped past him and sat on his sofa.
Well, okay, he thought as he closed the door behind her, securing the lock.
He went to the kitchen and grabbed two glasses of water, bringing them out to the living room. She accepted hers silently, taking a sip and placing it on a coaster on the nearby end table.
He thought maybe she would talk after she had a few minutes to get comfortable, but he could see that she wasn't going to be the first to speak, so he decided to try to coax her out of herself, carefully prodding until she shared what was bothering her.
"Worried about Gibbs?" he tried.
She took an inward breath, and he could see that she was thinking about what she should say before she spoke. "No."
"No?" he responded, surprised.
"Well, yes, sort of. But that is not the reason I am here."
He looked at her pointedly, as if to say, Care to elaborate then, sweetheart? She dropped her gaze first, then began to speak again.
"I am worried about no longer having a job."
"Oh." He paused, then an octave lower, "Ohhhh." She suspected he got it this time, but she continued to speak regardless.
"I just purchased a new car. And I have savings, but it is not going to last me forever. And I have never had to look for a job here, I just kind of stepped into this one. And I am not sure that... I am entirely... employable." Not a lot of jobs out there for ex-assassins, she didn't say, but didn't need to.
"You're worried about where you will go if you run out of money," he said softly, and she nodded. Of course he would get it, she realized. He always did.
"And you must also be worried as well, or at least concerned, yes?"
"Honestly, Ziva, I hadn't even had a chance to think about it before you got here, but now that you mention it…" he trailed off. She immediately looked guilty, but he continued before she could begin to apologize. "But it would have hit me soon enough anyway."
"We did not really think this through," she stated, and he was right, they had acted on impulse, and they'd even brought McGee down to the unemployment line, as well. Tony scooted closer to her on the sofa. At least McGee probably had a book to work on, no doubt some glorified fanfiction about their lives that would keep him from going into bankruptcy for a while, at least.
"Hey," Tony began, and Ziva turned to look at him, her eyes the only part of her reflecting that she was anything but fine. Worry and fear were reflected there, but few would have noticed; Ziva hid her emotions from the world. "We'll get through this. We will figure something out. I can help you find a job. And I will find something soon enough. It'll be all right."
"Will it? I pay attention to the news, Tony, there are not a lot of jobs right now," she said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Her lips were pursed tightly together, and Tony swore he could make out the fait glimmer of a tear, and his heart wrenched in its place. Ziva crying was still fairly unfamiliar to him – and probably to her, as well – but he recognized how seriously she was worrying about their current situation.
"It will have to be," he said with a shrug. What else could he say? There was nothing either of them could do but look for a job, same as anyone else who was currently out of work.
"Tony, I have done the math. I only have enough money to last until the end of summer. If I do not find a job before then, I will be..." she didn't finish her sentence. She couldn't.
"Come here," he replied, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her. "I will be here for you. I can help you. Whatever you need."
"Thank you." She paused. "But I do not want charity."
"Of course you don't," he said jokingly, and she twitched in his arms in what seemed to be a chuckle. He pulled back and looked at her, brushing the tear that had fallen away from her cheek as he did so. Truthfully, he didn't know what they could do, and he was just as worried as Ziva that jobs wouldn't be as forthcoming as they'd like them to be.
He knew if he got a job before Ziva, he'd try to help her out financially, until she found one of her own. He also knew that Ziva would never accept the handout. Still, he wanted to do something to ensure that they'd be okay, both of them.
It would be a lot easier if they didn't have so many bills. Of course, he thought to himself, and Ziva's eyes narrowed as she caught the proverbial lightbulb turning on in her partner's head.
"Why don't we become roommates?" he offered.
"Roommates," she repeated, her eyes widening.
"Yeah. Roommates. Instead of two rents, we'd have one. Instead of two electric bills, we'd have one. We can sell some of the furniture from both of our places – or we can store it, storage places aren't that expensive – and we can save our limited funds and get back on our feet."
"Then what happens if only one of us gets a job? They are the breadwinner?" She wasn't sure she liked the idea of being dependent on Tony if he became employed first. Ziva knew she had little to prove to Tony about her ability to care for herself, but her independent nature would be hard to break away from, especially after so many years of being tethered to the likes of Mossad.
"Sure," he said, shrugging. She was making this far too complicated. "And when we both get jobs again, we can both chip in, or one of us could move back out and get their own place again." If we want to, he added inwardly.
"Roommates," she repeated again. "You do realize that we each only have one bedroom in both of our apartments?"
"So we can share. It wouldn't be the first time," he said, shrugging again. So he hadn't exactly thought about that part, but they were grown people. Surely they could share a bed. And if they couldn't, they could take turns sleeping on the couch, or consider transferring to a two-bedroom apartment.
"It would also be ... risky," she responded, unsure if he would know what she meant. They were already so close, how would they live together and share a bed together and not be together? What if… Ziva shook her head, banishing the thought before it had a chance to form.
"Ziva, you're my best friend, I'm sure it'll be fine," he responded, and her head snapped up to meet his gaze. Best friend? "We know everything about each other already. We've traveled together. We spent several hours trapped in an elevator without killing each other. I think we can be roommates. It's not like we have to live together forever, right?"
Ziva still met his gaze as she saw the unsaid message: Not that that would be a bad thing. But he left it unsaid because he was sure that neither of them was ready for this. He'd carefully kept to using the word "roommate" and not the relationship phrase "moving in together." Because that was one step that would be too scary, for both of them. She was grateful for that, the way he was conscious of moving too quickly and making sure she felt as though she had a way out. "Temporarily, of course. Until we are both financially stable."
"Okay," she said with a slight smile, as though it was just that simple. And perhaps it had been.
"So now the big question is: 'Your place or mine?' I gotta be honest, Ziva, I sort of expected that I'd be asking that question under much different circumstances." She punched him in the shoulder just enough to cause him to stumble backward and he yelped, instantly rubbing the spot, and Ziva smirked at him.
"Don't press your luck," she warned, a smile spreading on her face at the way he grinned despite the "pain" she'd just inflicted on him, knowing that had she wanted to hurt him, she could have done a lot worse.
In the interest of not picking up another rent payment, they'd made the move as quickly as possible, settling on Ziva's larger apartment, which also happened to be less expensive as it was in a different part of town. Ziva also owned a much larger bed, she'd pointed out, and despite the fact that they could have simply moved her bed to his apartment, he hadn't wanted to argue the point. Ziva's place would be fine.
Their first day of their roommate-hood, as Tony had called it, was a little awkward but the awkwardness gave way to just comfortably being around each other. They argued lightheartedly over what to eat – and soon settled on preparing their own meals – and engaged in a tense staring contest over who would have first dibs on the shower. They gave each other the silent treatment after that, until finally, Ziva emerged from the kitchen with two bowls of ice cream with hot fudge on top, handing Tony a bowl and sitting beside him. It was very obviously a peace offering, one Tony took eagerly, yammering on about the ice cream headache he got almost immediately. Ziva was amused as she ate her own ice cream more slowly to avoid the same fate.
The true test as to whether this new arrangement would work was when it came time to sleep. It wasn't anything they hadn't done before, but suddenly the permanence of the situation and the fact that they weren't thousands of miles away in a hotel room made it suddenly much more of a big deal.
The next morning, Ziva woke to find Tony in her bed, still asleep next to her, and she smiled, knowing that this man had been her rock through everything. She put her arm around him and nuzzled her face into his neck, falling asleep contentedly once again. We do not have anywhere to be, she told herself.
When Tony woke up an hour later and found Ziva snuggled up next to him, and he realized that it wouldn't be so bad sharing a bed with this woman. Or a lifetime, he thought to himself. He turned his head slightly and kissed her forehead, pushing some of her hair off of her face as he did so. She stirred, and without thought, she tilted her head up just enough that the next kiss he placed was on her lips. She smiled, eyes still closed, and snuggled closer to him, content to stay where she was.
She didn't need to see the smile on Tony's face as he settled himself against her. She knew it was there.
They'd quickly gotten used to waking up next to each other, and the small kisses they shared soon became slow, lingering kisses that left them both breathless. It had become so normal so quickly that they hadn't even had a chance to define what was happening between them.
"What are we?" Ziva asked, breaking their tradition of only talking about whatever show they were watching during their regular TV time. They'd become hooked on reality competitions, and they enjoyed poking fun at the drama that unfolded week after week, despite knowing that it was not even close to reality.
Tony turned his head toward her, tilting his head to the side slightly, as if to ask what she meant.
She continued. "Us. This… arrangement. We were roommates but…"
Ziva didn't finish her sentence, but Tony didn't need her to. He was happy with the way things were unfolding, but it wasn't like this had been the plan when they'd decided to move in together. They'd both been spending time job hunting, but they'd often come home and act more like a couple than former coworkers who were supposed to keep things professional between them.
"I think this," he paused waving his hand slightly, "between us was going to happen whether or not we lived together, Ziva. Don't overthink it." He shrugged, then added, "Unless you're not okay with it?"
"Oh," she shook her head. "I'm definitely okay with it. I just didn't…" she trailed off again. "So are we a couple now? Or are we just people who kiss sometimes? Or…" Her eyes found his, searching, needing… validation? Affirmation?
Tony let out a quick breath, running his hand through his hair. Were they ready to have this conversation? "We can be," he said simply, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "If you want."
"Do you want?" Ziva spoke softly, almost tentatively, as though she was almost afraid to voice the question. She was looking at him intently, her eyes searching, hoping. There was no mistaking the longing in her voice, and Tony shivered at the realization.
"I want," he responded earnestly.
She had only enough time to gasp out, "Me too," and his lips were on hers, his hands tangled in her hair as he pulled her closer to him. They'd kissed before, but not like this, not with this kind of intensity, as though the moment itself would overwhelm and eventually consume them. Tony threaded his fingers through her hair, caressing her mouth with his, and Ziva moaned in response, leaning closer to him and pressing him backwards on the sofa.
His hands made their way up to the back of her neck, where they became tangled in her hair as they were wont to do, and she felt him pulling her closer, anchoring her head to his with the movement of his jaw, and she shuddered as he kissed her more thoroughly, exploring her mouth with his tongue and practically swallowing her whole. A warmth began to spread through her at the way he'd awakened something primal in her, and she pressed against him, returning his kiss with equal fervor and grinding her hips against him.
"Take me to our room, Tony," she gasped, backing away from him slowly and taking his hand to help him up off the sofa. Ziva's pronoun choice wasn't lost on either of them, and Tony met her gaze, seeing that her eyes were intense, daring him to act. He pulled her toward him, kissing her roughly and pulling her into him, leading her down the hall toward their bedroom.
Tangled sheets covered tangled limbs as Ziva sighed contentedly against Tony's shoulder, giving him a quick kiss there before lifting her head to speak. "I have a confession to make," she breathed, her heartbeat quickening not at the feel of his arm tightening around her, but the sudden surge of bravery she felt in the wake of impending feelings and truthfulness.
"Oh?" His head cocked to the side, a slight grin spreading as he looked at her, the spaces where their skin met sending a rush of warmth through him. Finally.
Bashfulness suddenly washed over her, and she buried her head into his shoulder as she murmured, "Yes," but didn't elaborate on her apparent sudden need for confession. It was almost like the time she'd come over a few months ago, worried about what she'd do if she ran out of money, but lighter somehow.
Furrowing his brow slightly, Tony reached for her chin and lifted it slightly, encouraging her to look at him. When she did, he looked at her soothingly, stroking her cheek gently to reassure her that whatever it was, he wouldn't run away.
She took a breath. "I didn't need to become your roommate. I… have an inheritance from my father. Several million dollars, in fact." She spoke as though she were telling him that there was coffee in the cupboard, like several million dollars was no big deal, like she told him as much nearly every day.
The realization hit Tony. She hadn't needed him to move in. It was she who'd come over to his apartment, worried about their impending finances. He had been the one to suggest that they live together, but she'd planted the seeds, coming to him upset and practically crying on his shoulder. She'd… "So then why did you…" He trailed off, not knowing how to ask the question. Why had she come to him that night?
"Because, well, things with us were not moving forward and I…"
"You…?" He prompted her to continue, his eyebrows raised.
"I just wanted to move things along." Ziva shrugged nonchalantly before resting her head against his chest again, letting out a soft breath of air and hoping he wouldn't be upset. Again, Tony marveled at the way she could say things that were entirely unnatural and act as though they were completely normal.
"I'd say you were successful," came the chuckled response, and she smirked, choking down the urge to burst out laughing.
"You are not upset?"
He shook his head, leaning down to kiss the top of hers before speaking. "It was pretty devious of you, but honestly, I can't possibly complain about this." He glanced down at their bodies, pressed together in the aftermath of their lovemaking, and Ziva smiled, tucking her head into the crook of his neck, giving him a sideways kiss as she did so.
"Good, because I…" She lifted her head again, propping herself up on her elbow to gaze into his eyes, her smile fading as she looked at him earnestly, opening up and taking that leap of faith. "I want you to stay here, for good."
"Are you asking me to move in with you?" The joke achieved its intended response as she let out an amused snort. "Because you know, I kind of already live here, so…" He trailed off, watching with amusement as she smacked him lightly on the chest, recognizing his response to her suggestion in his lighthearted answer. He'd stay. She almost couldn't contain her excitement, that sudden rush of euphoria just thinking about this new turn in their relationship. Relationship.
Ziva scooted up so her mouth was even with his, leaning down and kissing him, gently at first, before easing into a slow kiss filled with promise and longing. Tony reached his free hand up to tangle into her hair, entwining his fingers in the wild strands and groaning slightly into her mouth as he felt a warmth in him building, a sort of warmth that only she could provide. She lifted her head to pull away, searching his eyes for just a moment, seeing only desire and truth there, before leaning back to kiss him once more, gently, softly, before settling back against him, whispering, "Good," against his skin.
"Good," he agreed, tightening his arm around her and holding his roommate – girlfriend, he corrected – close.
I hope you enjoyed this! I had wanted to finish this yesterday but I just... didn't. As always, longer stories are in the works but I like to keep publishing pretty regularly. Please be kind and drop me a line letting me know what you think! Reviews, even on my older stuff, are always appreciated and loved.
