Summary: Sometimes, you learn and do things in situations you wouldn't imagine. If only they didn't try so hard to ignore it that they seem like hormonal teenagers.
It was late in the bullpen, rounding midnight as two agents were finishing up reports for the recent case closed. In reality, Tim had finished ages ago, but he wasn't going to leave Ziva alone in the office. Always the gentleman, he'd found plenty of things to fiddle with around his desk, and files to reorganize on the computer. McGee found himself watching Ziva as she clicked away at the computer, her frustration with the technology evident in the furrowed brows. He smiled to himself, always the daydreamer, and always amazed Tony never stuck around. Tim was aware of Tony's affection toward Ziva, but he never stayed after hours long enough to see her unbridled emotions. It was a guilty pleasure Tim found, but he made sure to never take it to a stalker-ish direction. It was just nice to see a side of the assassin not many saw.
Ziva was behind on her report, having gotten caught up with a surprise call from Mossad agents, informing her that Eli was looking to speak to her. It had taken a good two hours of yelling to no avail before she spoke to him. In the end, the conversation had last little more than ten minutes. Eli David wished to know why his calls to his daughter never went through, and Ziva wished to know why the hell he cared.
If this was not enough to annoy her, now the computer was acting up. It was seemingly frozen on screen, not picking up any number of mouse clicks or keyboard taps. She growled, slamming the mouse back onto the desk, unaware of the flinch it brought to the face of the other agent in the room. She had known the entire time he'd been watching, but she wasn't sure as to why. Ziva knew she had an admiration for him, but it was more than what she felt toward Tony. She loved the SFA just had she had loved Ari and Tali, but it was something deeper toward the technology master of their team, yet she couldn't really approach him about those feelings. Ziva didn't want to be let down again, and who was do say McGee felt the same? Suddenly, the computer gave a loud beep, before showing nothing but a black screen. This brought the Mossad Officer's attention back to it, ticking her off just enough to send her over the ledge.
"I do not understand what it is doing!" Ziva was yelling, but it wasn't to anyone in particular, "I now see why Gibbs wishes to break his things rather than wait."
Tim nearly laughed at this, standing up from his desk to walk to hers, "Maybe I can help you with your computer trouble, Ziva?"
"If you wish McGee, I was done with my report. I was just trying to send off the email. Now the computer wishes to do nothing but try to make me miserable. I believe it is nearly winning."
Tim nodded before walking behind the desk, pulling the keyboard toward him. He recognized the issue right away, fixing it within five minutes, knowing the solution by heart. McGee saw the email was typed up already, realizing she was going to be leaving shortly after. He found himself slightly down at the thought, wondering why. Tim found himself mentally reciting 'Rule 12' but not so enthusiastically.
"There, should be all set. The email you typed is still there as well, so no need to go retyping everything."
Ziva gave him a small smile as she sent it, seemingly calmer than a few moments ago, "Thank you McGee, I was deeply considering throwing it off the roof."
He cringed at the thought of that, "Well I'm very glad you didn't, I'd rather not see the outcome."
Ziva paused, considering her options, before deciding to call him out. She wasn't trying to make him uncomfortable, not intentionally.
"Hey, McGee, why is it you're still here this late? I had thought you would have left hours ago."
Tim mind started reeling for a response at being called out, but before he could she spoke again. Ziva didn't want an excuse from him, so she quickly intervened before his genius mind could create something reasonable.
"Do not think I didn't notice, you have been fiddling with your desk drawer for over an hour. I also noticed you watching my struggle with the computer. So I ask again, why are you still here? Do not lie to me, I will know."
"Well," He drawled out, wondering if he should try to lie anyway, but quickly decided against it, "I was waiting for you, honestly. I know your car has been in the shop, so I was hoping I could be of assistance and offer a ride." It wasn't a lie, just an addition to what he had been doing. It seemed to Tim she hadn't noticed, and he quietly celebrated.
"That is very kind McGee, but I do not wish to be a bother. I know you have to get home to take care of Jethro."
McGee smiled at her, "You're not being a bother, I'm offering. As for Jethro, my neighbor feeds him on weekdays in case I work overtime. I take him out with me for my run in the mornings so he should be alright."
"You go for a run every morning?" Ziva raised an eyebrow, before suddenly realizing how that sounded, "Wait no, I am sorry that is not what I mean. I was just...surprised? Men I know usually go to the gym, not that there is anything wrong with running."
Tim laughed at her uncharacteristic concern for her wording, "Ziva, it's alright. But yes, I go on daily runs to the park and back with Jethro. The only exceptions are if I worked way late the night before, or if it's snowing."
She nodded as he left to boot down the stuff at his station, concerning herself again with his offer for a ride, "McGee, I still stick to my decision that I do not wish to be a bother. I do appreciate the offer though." Ziva then busied herself with booting down her station, but still noticed the look McGee had of that similar to a kicked puppy. She had an odd feeling in her chest at the sight, spitting out the first thing to her mind.
"Although, McGee, I personally go for night runs if you care to join me?"
Ziva didn't miss the sudden change in demeanor, his face lighting up at the prospect, "Really? I'd love to, unless you're just doing it to amuse me for rejecting my ride."
"No McGee, I would enjoy the company. It is a beautiful night out, and you waited all this time for me, I would indeed feel bad to leave you alone after that. Do not get me wrong though, it is not out of pity. If you wish to deny you are more than welcome."
Tim shook his head, grabbing his bag from beside his chair and flicking the lamp off, "You know Ziva, you do still have to take my offer of a ride now right? If I take the bus or walk with you I'll have to come back for it anyway, and I'm not driving off without you."
The Israeli gave him a look, before sighing reluctantly, but not voicing her opinion. Instead, she silently followed him out to the parking lot. She slid into the passenger's seat, giving McGee a soft smile as he round the car to get to the driver's side.
Tim started up the engine, neither of them speaking until he decided to break the ice, "There is no way you didn't realize your prospect would end in this car ride Ziva."
She eyed him out of the corner of her eye, "I do not know what you mean McGee, and I would do no such thing."
"Ziva, I believe that as much as I believe Tony could get his head out of his ass."
"McGee!" She chided him, but Ziva couldn't help but laugh at the same time.
"What? It's true." Tim defended himself, mock disbelief written across his face.
He paused, making a left hand turn, and Ziva looked out the window stunned for a moment. When had he began driving? She was unsure, and was also unaware of how he knew exactly where she resided. The Mossad officer knew where each of her coworkers lived-she had studied their files-but when had they learned hers? Sensing this, Tim smiled.
"It's safer if someone knows where you are, if something were to happen it could be life or death scenario."
She snickered as they arrived at the complex, "You do not cease to amaze me McGee, nor confuse. Please, come inside while I go change, I can only stand nice shirts for so long."
"Ziva, you mind if I use your bathroom to change?" McGee reached into the backseat, where he had put his pack, "I keep a change of clothes on me, in case things get dirty on a case."
She nodded, before leading him inside and up to her floor. Ziva's apartment was of decent size, nothing over the top or fancy, but certainly not falling apart. She pointed Tim toward the bathroom, walking into the bedroom and locking the door behind her. Ziva slipped on her black sweats along with a blue running jacket. It was one her father had bought her, and while she didn't like blue much it was pretty comfortable. She then grabbed her running shoes before heading back to the living room.
Ziva wasn't sure she had ever seen McGee in a t-shirt, but she was suddenly glad she was now. Most people hadn't ever pictured Tim to be very muscular, and while he wasn't a professional lifted, he certainly was well built for the job. She nearly face-palmed herself, McGee is a full-time field agent of course he is! Nonetheless, she found herself staring and had to shake her mind from it before he caught her.
Tim was admiring the framed photos on a small bookcase in the corner, putting on his running clothes taking no time at all. He didn't notice the presence behind him until she gave a small cough; McGee spun around startled and embarrassed. His face lit up a bright red, having the same reaction Ziva had when seeing her attire.
"Are you ready to go McGee? I do have to warn you, I am a pretty fast jogger."
Tim nodded, not trusting his vocal chords in that moment. The run was a relaxing for the two of them, more than once racing each other to a certain point. Ziva was surprised at his ability to keep up with her, more so when he ended up ahead of her. Tim laughed as he took a detour into the park field, Ziva chasing with mock anger.
With one last ditch effort she sprinted forward and tackled the man, knocking them both to the ground. Luckily the grass broke their fall, McGee ending up with no more than what may be a bruised arm, and an undignified grunt. He'd ended up on his back, staring up at a deviously grinning Ziva.
"You did not say there were any rules against tackling." She was still grinning, albeit a slight pant, as they had been running for quite a while.
McGee shifted, managing to sit up on his elbows as the Israeli wouldn't move, "Yeah well I didn't think you would tackle me to win, cheater."
She laughed at the offended look he had on his face, but anyone could have seen the small smile hid behind it. Before Ziva could think it through, she leaned forward and gave him a ghost of a kiss, stuttering either one's thought processes to a stop. Suddenly as if burnt by fire, she pulled away and sat up, but was still sitting on him.
McGee didn't say anything or even dare to move, he just stared at her. His heart was racing and he was sure his face was a tomato. Ziva was staring at him just the same, but he couldn't make the coherent thought that she was waiting, waiting for him to do anything.
Finally Ziva got what she thought was the message, mumbling an apology before going to get up. She was muttering to herself in Hebrew, wondering what in Allah's name had possessed her to do that. Just as she was standing she was suddenly pulled back down, before Ziva was suddenly aware of a hand pulling the front of her jacket forward.
Tim wasn't sure why he was doing this, or what exactly this was. Maybe they were both just lonely people, neither with a significant other, and this is just another office fling to make its rounds of a scuttlebutt. Either way, Tim didn't care, couldn't care about the scuttlebutt or that this was something Tony does.
He'd grabbed her hips and pulled her back down, not giving her a chance to protest. Then he'd grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling her down both gently and quickly, and meeting her lips with his. It was the most cliché thing he'd ever done, but he could tell Ziva didn't care. She'd relaxed, laying on top of him, with her fingers lacing through his hair. It was pure bliss and for a while, there wasn't a care in the world.
Tim thread his own fingers through the hair on the back of her head, deepening the kiss, but not so aggressively. He'd always shook his head at the statements people say, the things about sparks and other odd metaphors. Yet in this moment he swore they could electrocute anyone who came across their path. Thankfully it was late enough no one else was outside to spoil the fun.
They finally ended their bruising kiss for air, both flushed and breathless. McGee slowly checked his watch, seeing it was about 3:00 am. He certainly wasn't tired by now, but lost his breathe again was Ziva laid her head down, buried in his chest.
"Your cologne smells very good, I quite enjoy it Timothy." Her voice was muffled by the fabric, but he couldn't help but chuckle. McGee could almost hear the gears in her head turning, and decided to put her out of her misery.
"You never call me anything besides McGee, Ziva. It's...strangely endearing to hear my first name from you."
She hummed, content in her own little world. Ziva was briefly unaware they were still in the grass before Tim was slowly sitting up.
"Ziva, I think we should be getting back to your place, it's late."
It was comfortable silence, but both souls were happy. Eventually, maybe it would go somewhere, but in the moment both were content to know feelings were reciprocated. To McGee, it was like some cheesy romance novel, the kind you shake your head at but smile nonetheless. To Ziva, she was unsure having never had too many people to really open up to, but she could describe it as a feeling of comfort that she could trust with her darkest secrets.
Not that she would ever do that, but at least she felt as though she could.
In the night, rule 12 was utterly and completely broken, discarded with complete abandon. Of course, the agents knew rule 18 would trump all, and that made everything that happened alright. If only they'd known Gibbs was expecting it eventually much to Tony's dismay.
Never doubt the Marine's advice, even if he had a bad track record. He simply lost his soul mate all too soon to reasons undeserved.
"Boss! You cannot expect the Probie and the crazy Assassin to actually work. Can you? Personally I think Ziva would make use of that paper clip befo-"
*SMACK*
"Shutting up Boss."