Regret
A between-the-scenes story for Agent Afloat. Gibbs wonders why Ziva was so eager to be in on the call to Tony.
Disclaimer: You know I didn't make them up!
Ziva watches out the window as they fly over the ocean. The color of the water is comforting here; light, almost teal, unlike the darker waters she sees regularly near DC. This is more like home. As she studies the rippling of waves, she hears someone settle into the seat beside her.
"So, did something happen with you and Tony?"
She turns to gape at Gibbs. "What?"
"Not that I want to know, but if I'm bringing him back with us, I think I should."
"Why would you even ask—" she gasps.
Gibbs looks at her critically. "You were awfully eager to talk to him earlier. And you didn't used to be."
She looks down, sheepish. But not to the left.
"You weren't partners anymore," he offers, though he isn't sure when it happened.
"No. We weren't." She meets his eyes hesitantly. It's been years since defying her father's will has made her feel this gut-wrenchingly insecure.
Gibbs nods once, neither reprobation nor approbation in his face. "Well, for the moment, he's still not. But don't let it interfere with your work when we get there." He rises and moves up toward the front of the cabin.
Ziva stares out the window again, heart racing. Instead of the water below, all she can see is Tony.
She'd been packing her apartment that night, the night after Vance's announcement to the team. It was raining outside, bleak to match her mood. And then Tony showed up at her door with most of a six pack and his clothes damper than could be explained by a quick walk from his car.
"Did you shower in your clothes?" she'd greeted him at the door.
"I wasn't sure if I should come up. Drank the first two of these while I made up my mind."
She smiled and opened the door wider she he could enter.
"I am glad you came up."
"Yeah?" He set the remaining beers on the coffee table and turned back to her. "Good, then."
She stepped close to him, leaning into his space to reach around and grab the long neck of one of the bottles. As she pulled it back toward her, they were suddenly intimately close. Ziva's eyes flickered to Tony's lips. He noticed, a smirk ghosting over his lips as she met his eyes again. But instead of her usual reaction, a teasing or defiant remark, she flushed, and Tony's blood pounded as he realized he was still staring into her eyes. Without another thought, he closed the final distance between them and they kissed.
After a moment she pulled back, dropped her eyes to his chest.
"Ziva?"
She gazed at the button of his shirt a moment.
"Are you thinking we shouldn't?"
She looked back up at him. "Kiss me." She leaned up.
This time Tony retreated. "You didn't answer me."
"I would really rather feel than think right now." She tried again.
"Ziva." He had his hands on her upper arms, keeping his distance. "Do you think this is a bad idea?"
Ziva tried to step away from him, but Tony's hand caught on her shoulder, stopping her. "You're even going to spar with me over this?" she snapped.
Tony's hand moved to her cheek. "I've never had a problem with questionably appropriate sex, Zi, you know that." His face was caught between a grin and a grimace. "But I—I don't want to be something you regret later."
She nodded, eyes closed. As his fingers loosened on her arm, she whispered, "Of course, you can regret inaction just as much as action." She hazarded a peek up at him and he was staring at her, unreadable. Ziva tried one last time. "Kiss me?"
He had. And had barely stopped to breathe until his plane left the next day. Back in Israel, there were moments went she woke aching for him when Ziva wondered about a lot of her choices over the years, but until Gibbs' question she never considered regretting it. The possibility that she and Tony might have prevented the reunion of the team seemed real enough for a moment that she wanted to undo the whole night, but now that the moment has passed her pulse is slowing and regret is the last thing on her mind. In just a few hours, she'll see him again.