Light sleeper

This is my first story..well at least the first I ever published. I would be grateful for any kind of review ..and yeah.. English is not my first language..just in case there are any funny sounding phrases or grammar mistakes or something like that in the story -please tell me ;-)

The light in the corridor of the apartment building was less than dim without the sun supporting it. Still he knew that even if it hadn't been two in the morning and even if the sun had shone through the window, he wouldn't have managed to unlock the door of his apartment more quickly. It had been months ago since he had felt as exhausted as he felt now.

Three months to be accurate. Only this time it was just his body that ached. Ached from the nights he had spent on the rattly bed in the shabby Mexican motel and the endless flight on the old cargo plane that had brought McGee and him back from Mexico, where they had been sent to batter a drug ring. At least his mind had stayed perfectly painless this time with no terrorists making his heart ache by breaking the woman he had always believed to be unbreakable. If he could choose, he'd always prefer the drug dealers-however if he really could choose he'd prefer pretty much everything.

When he finally managed to unlock his apartment door, he sighed in relief. He placed gun and badge in the first drawer of the commode in the hallway. Those however were the only things he managed to put, where they actually belonged. His shoes got simply shrugged off his feet and landed somewhere in a corner of the room. Taking off his coat, which simply followed the shoes, he wondered how warm his apartment was.

A week before Christmas the temperature outside had dropped to 14°F , which had given McGee and him quite a cold shock still his apartment was cozily warm. This could only mean that he had forgotten to turn off the heating-which he was quite sure he hadn't. Wondering whether his obviously mistaken memory was due to insanity or rather his getting older, he scuffled towards his bedroom.

The moment he half fell and half stepped over the stair that was the hallway's border to the living room, still wondering whether to choose age over insanity or the other way around, he heard a hushed noise. Although his instinct and reaction were worse than Gibbs' and far beyond reach of Ziva's and although he hadn't slept for 22 hours, his police training announced itself within seconds.

He carefully made his way to the sofa in the middle of his living room, where the noise had come from, wondering whether besides getting insane -or old, he still wasn't sure about that- he was now also getting paranoid. However as soon as he made out a gentle breath, he mentally cursed himself for not having taken the few seconds he would have lost if he had gotten hold of his gun. At least he could have made the effort to turn on the lights. But when he finally got sight of his sofa, he realized that he needed neither of it. Even with just the stars and the weak light of the streetlamp from under his window enlightening the room, he could see that he did not need to worry about his gun. The person lying curled up on his sofa, with her long dark hair like a curtain in front of her face was obviously peacefully asleep. Furthermore he was certain that she had not broken into his apartment to do him any harm- and he knew that not only from the fact that she would certainly not have fallen asleep if harming him had been her intention. And even if it had been his gun would have been rather useless, as it would not have increased his survival chances. At least he knew now that he was neither going insane nor senile since he had found the one who had decided that a little warmth wouldn't hurt. He didn't even bother to wonder about how she had managed to break into his apartment. It had been years ago that he had given up wondering about how she could effortlessly pass every door, no matter how carefully it had been locked. He doubted that he would ever get her drunk enough to make her tell him anyway.

Still as he was looking down at the sleeping figure in front of him, he couldn't help but wonder why on earth Ziva had been sleeping on his couch while he had been away. The fact that her coat was lying on the floor beside the couch obviously having fallen off it and the fact that the team had known that he and McGee would be coming back that night led him to the conclusion that she must have been waiting for him. This however only led to another why. But as he looked down at her looking perfectly relaxed and peaceful, he did not have the heart to wake her up and ask her why she had been waiting for him. It was not that she usually seemed particularly fraught or troubled-not the way you would expect from someone who had been held captive by terrorists for more than four months. Contrariwise she usually seemed perfectly sane and confident. Even her psychiatrist had been surprised. After the twelve sessions she had been ordered to attend he had found no reason to keep her any longer- which as far as Tony knew was more than surprising considering the huge trauma Ziva should be going through and also considering that the psychiatrist at NCIS was ,as Tony had himself experienced, a very good one. Still over the last couple of weeks it had occurred to Tony that Ziva was an even better secret agent than the NCIS shrink was a psychiatrist. Her trauma must be more painful and troubling than the doc had been able to discover.

Dealing with emotions had always been difficult for Ziva. From the bits of information about her past Tony had gotten out of her during the last couple of years he knew that she had been taught that emotions meant weakness -and weakness meant death. And although she had broken up with her father after Somalia- breaking up with what she had been taught by him was probably even more difficult. Being with the team had gotten her to open up a little more every now and then but she was still able to cover her emotions if she felt the need for it– and she did it well since she could even fool her psychiatrist. But she could not fool Tony. He knew that she had not gotten over Somalia knew whenever for just the shortest moment her panzer seemed to crack a little, whenever this slight flicker of panic reached her eye, whenever her eyes got glassy until she suddenly flinched as if she had been hit. Those moments where rare and often did not last longer than the blink of an eye and sometimes he wondered whether he was the only one, who noticed them.

Still as she was now lying there in front of him, her soft breath slow and even, her whole body totally relaxed, nothing reminded of those painful moments. Looking down at her made his heart swell in his chest, swell with relief that she was alive, swell with happiness that she was back with the team, back with him, and yes also swell with love. It had been long ago that he had given up trying to fall out of love with her and he had finally decided that there was nothing wrong with loving her-as long as he was the only one to know about it.

When he thought that his heart must be about to burst, he shivered slightly blaming it on the daze he had gotten himself into. Then he realized that this was not-or at least not the only-reason. When he had stepped into his apartment he had sensed it as cozily warm. Now he realized that compared to the temperature outside it was indeed warm, but still not warm enough. However before heading to his bedroom to satisfy both his need for warmth and his need for sleep, he grabbed a blanket which was lying over his armchair and covered Ziva with it.

Although he had put much effort into not waking her up, her instincts shot her awake the second the blanket touched her skin. She sat up straight immediately, violently throwing the blanket away, her eyes frightened and confused.

"Hey it's alright, it's just me…" he said softly, not daring to touch her as his body was already aching. She looked at him, her eyes still wide with shock, but at least she did not try to kill him. He slowly reached out to turn on the only rarely used reading lamp beside the sofa, glad that Ziva still made no attempt to attack him. The sudden flash of light blinded them both for a couple of seconds. Gaining back her sight and finally recognizing whom she was facing Ziva started looking around. He left her a few moments to recover from the shock, before he asked her the question he had wanted to ask since he had discovered her lying on his sofa.

"You know I see my couch is quite comfortable, but…"

"I'm sorry" she interrupted him immediately, her voice surprisingly firm and steady considering her furious wakeup. "I just wanted to wait here for you to see whether you were alright and… ". Obviously realizing how that must have sounded she hastily added "well anyway ... you seem ok so I really should go now…"

Avoiding his gaze she fumbled with her coat but seemed not able to make it obey her. Tony however would not let her get away with her last words that easily.

He grinned: "You wanted to check on me?"

She shot him a glare. Attack was the best defense. "No" she said simply but he could see the slight hint of a blush on her cheeks.

His grin widened: "Well I mean there is nothing wrong with checking on your partner but… "

"I did NOT check on you!" she snapped, emphasizing the not. Her stubborn coat had finally given up on his struggle and now she only had to convince it's knobs to fit into their buttonholes.

She was angry at herself, he could sense that, angry for coming to his place, but somehow he felt that there was more behind it, a reason why she had wanted to check on him-although she was trying so hard to deny that she had done so. And he knew from her already angry condition, that his best chances of getting to know her motives would be teasing her, hoping that this would make her loose her temper so that ,in a fit of fury, she would shout at him what he wanted to know. It wouldn't be the first time that his resisting annoyance would get him some information out of her. Not the great secrets of Ziva's mind or memory of course, as for them, she usually provided a wall of protection that seemed far too thick and too solid to ever negotiate it. But this time Tony felt that no matter how thick the wall might be, behind which she had just shoved what she was hiding from him, he had to break through it.

" Well since you consider me childish I guess you were more than right to check on me as children usually need someone to check on them…"

She glared at him. "Tony, don't!"

She knew exactly that she had to stop him from teasing her.

"I'll go now." she said turning towards the door.

"I guess Michael never minded when you checked on him."

This was foul play and he knew it, but it was his last chance if he wanted to get her to tell him why she had been waiting for him. As she turned around he did not really expect a friendly smile however the fury written on her face made him stumble backwards. She said something in Hebrew he of course did not understand, but which sounded pretty much like she had just thrown every single cuss word at him, that her mother tongue gave away.

"Guess I earned that one" he finally dared to say.

She looked at him without a word. He could see that she was biting her lower lip to stop it from trembling. A few moments they just stood there facing each other.

"You have no idea!" she finally whispered the bitterness of her tone cutting into his heart, making him regret he had said anything. She hastily grabbed her scarf from the floor turning towards the door.

"Ziva" he began, but she interrupted him furiously.

"I dreamt he killed you. He put that knife on your throat and this time he cut and I had to watch you die right in front of me and I knew that it was my fault and.." her voice trailed off.

For just one short moment longer she held his gaze, before she looked down to the ground, but it was long enough for Tony to see, that her expression was full of pain and sorrow. He could have gibbs-slapped himself. He had known it all along. The hidden feelings. The pain. And yet he had-without thinking about it for another second- pushed her, urging her into the memories she must have been trying so hard to forget. The memories of what had been a summer of regret and grief for him, and a summer of torture and pain for her.

"Ziva, look at me please!" he finally managed to say, the effort of giving his voice the power to comfort her making it sound strange, even in his own ears.

Slowly she raised her head and it made him flinch to see her on the edge of breaking into tears. In the four years he had known her, he had not once seen her cry and he had doubted he ever would.

"Hey" he said softly, placing his hand on her arm. " It's all over now"

When she did not react, he tried another strategy. "You did not really think a plan of Superspecial Agent Anthony DiNozzo could ever go wrong, did you?"

The slightest hint of a smile crossed her face, but he'd have given everything even for just that.

They stayed just facing each other for a moment, until she finally asked: "Why?"

He had unsuccessfully searched for an answer to that question since he had watched her exhausted sleep on the plane back from hell. He tried to come up with the right thing to say, although he knew pretty well, that there wasn't one.

"I don't know, why this happened to you, Ziva, I.."

"No ..." she interrupted him "Why did you go to take revenge when you believed I was dead, why did you save me, after everything I did, everything I said to you? You nearly died because of me."

Because I love you he thought but said "I already told you that I could not live without you. When I was told that you had died… I only wanted the one dead who had done this to you…or at least die trying."

She was biting her lip again. "Why?"

"Because I care for you. You are my partner and my friend… and because I knew that I was responsible for your death."

She slightly shook her head then whispered softly: "You are not the one to blame, Tony."

"But I am!" he burst out, his sudden anger causing her to flinch "I am to blame. I killed Rivkin. You stayed in Israel because of that, because you were angry at me and because you couldn't trust me anymore and you had all rights to do so. And then you were sent on a mission and the only thing I got to know was that your ship had sunken and that there were no survivors and I knew that if you had not left because of me you would have still been alive. And then when he pulled that hood off your head I should have been glad that you were alive but everything I could feel was pain because you were in pain and it was my fault. If you hadn't left because of me this wouldn't have happened to you, and you tell me that I am not to blame?"

She looked him straight in the eye then said: "You were right about Michael. He played me I was just too blind to see that or maybe I just didn't want to see it. He was part of my past, part of my home country and I had missed that… probably I just wanted a part of it back… "

It surprised him that she had admitted this.

" But my home is here and now I see that. And you have only known this all along. You knew that Michael was not the kind of guy I believed him to be. He is to blame, he and Eli and … Salim."

He noticed both that her father had come down to being called by his first name and the force it took her to get Salim's name out of her mouth.

"And most of all I am to blame, because I did not see right through them. Neither Michael nor Eli ever really cared for me, but you do. You risked your life for me and you saved mine. I don't blame you for anything and I really can't believe I ever did. I'm deeply sorry for ever mistrusting you. "

He made effort to say something but she interrupted him, clearly showing how well she could read his mind: "And do not tell me that this is a sign of weakness, because it really isn't when you tell it to someone you care about."

He smiled but then said seriously: "I'd never think of you as a weak person."

They shared a genuine smile that expressed better than words ever could how glad they were that they had finally had this conversation. They let a few moments go by until Ziva eventually yawned.

"Guess I have checked on you long enough" she said now wearing his mischievous grin herself. "Gibbs is expecting us tomorrow and .. well I will see you then .."

She donated him a smile that melted his heart away and then turned towards the door. She had left him what felt like million times before, when Vance had split up the team and sent them thousands of miles apart, when she had stayed in Israel after he had killed Rivkin, when he had thought he had lost her forever after the sinking of the Damocles and now she was leaving him again. And suddenly he realized that this time he just couldn't let her go. And so he grabbed her arm: "Wait".

She turned to face him again, looking surprised. He had wanted to add the words "Please don't go!" but when her eyes had met his he had suddenly forgotten how you said them. So instead he did something else to deter her from leaving-he pulled her into a hug.

When he had suddenly pulled his arms around her she had stiffened but had relaxed immediately after she had convinced her instincts that a hug from Tony was something absolutely not life-threatening. Neither of them knew how long they had been standing there, with their arms around each other, Ziva resting her head on his chest and Tony softly pressing his lips against her hair.

Eventually Ziva raised her head to look him in the eye. "You know, I actually never said thank you for saving me" she said smiling "Thank you".

As he looked down at her looking up at him with a bright smile on her face, feeling her warm body all over his, he just couldn't help it. He couldn't help but doubt that there was something wrong with her knowing that he loved her, because he had lost her too many times before and every new case they were working on carried the risk that he would lose her forever and he knew that he would not be able to forgive himself if he missed to ever show how much he loved her.

He had to do it and he had to do it now, because he had missed out so many chances and he nearly wouldn't have gotten this one. He knew he was risking to get hurt like he had been before and he knew that this would mean risking to hurt her as well, but he had been hurt by a woman and he had been hurt by thinking he had lost Ziva forever and the pain Jeanne had caused him had been nothing compared to what losing Ziva had felt like. And so he pulled her even closer to his body and as soon as his lips touched hers, as soon as he felt her kissing him back with the greatest passion and love he had ever be kissed with, he knew that risking would be more than worth it.