The thunder crashed hard against the windowpanes. The apartment was dark, save for one flickering candle and an almost out of battery power flashlight. Sitting nearby were a man and a woman, under a king size bed quilt. An unfinished dinner was on the coffee table in front of them, long cold.
The woman shook, held tightly by the man, who was, to say the least, amused.
"C'mon Ziva, you can't be scared of a little thunder."
"Little? Tony, in case you haven't noticed, that thunder knocked out the power to your apartment. I can barely see my hand in front of my face."
Tony whispered in her ear, "Ziva, your hands are both holding mine under the blanket, they're nowhere near your face."
She shot him a look. "I get an American Idiom correct, and you laugh at me like a jackal?"
"Hyena, Ziva. And yes. It's funny, you got to admit. Big, bad, Israeli Mossad Assassin Officer David, afraid of thunder." Tony chuckled again then screamed in pain as Ziva executed what was known in Mossad as a "Thumb Tap." He glared down at her, "Zi, that hurts like hell. What did you do that for?"
"For laughing at me! And I am not scared!" Ziva let out a little squeal, scrunched down, and crawled even deeper into Tony's embrace as another rumble of thunder rattled the apartment.
"Sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood, Ziva. Why are you so afraid of thunder anyway," Tony asked, hoping this line of questioning would get her mind off her fear. Not that Ziva would admit to the fear, of course.
"I said I am not afraid." She fell into silence, looking down, and Tony wondered if he would have to make another joke to get her to look into his eyes again. She softly began, "I used to love storms. Israel doesn't get many of them, but the ones we do get are usually big. I would sit in my room in Tel Aviv, stare out the window, and just watch the lightening and listen to the thunder. It relaxed me and would lull me to sleep." Ziva again tried to crawl through Tony as another blast of thunder rolled over them. "When I was first shot, I realized that I did not like the sound anymore. The night I was shot, it was in a warehouse, and the sound echoed all around the room. It sounded exactly like thunder."
"Okay, I get that part of it. But, Ziva, if you get any closer, you'll be behind me," Tony said, thankful that the last few blasts of thunder hadn't made her as scared as the ones before. Of course, they were a little far off.
"Tony, are you armed right now?"
"No."
"Am I armed?"
"Always."
"With a pistol, Tony," Ziva almost screamed.
"I don't think so, I didn't frisk you when you came in the door," Tony leered down at the Israeli.
Ziva just rolled her eyes. "I am not. I am not armed, and the person I trust most is not armed, and I am seeing flashes of light and hearing what my mind tells me is gunshots. You see why I am scared, yes," Ziva asked, looking into his eyes.
"When you put it that way, yes, I can see why," Tony said solemnly as his mind raced. She trusts me the most. Not Jenny, not McGee, not even Gibbs. ME! He had always suspected it, but never had it spelled out. In his mind, he did a happy dance.
Outwardly, he was stone sober. "Zi, you know I would never let anything happen to you, right?"
"I do, Tony. That is why I have not begun to stab your coffee table with my knife. You being close is keeping me calmer than anything else has so far in my life." She looked into his eyes. "Thank you for being…you," she finished with a smile up at him, which quickly turned into a frown when another roll of thunder penetrated the apartment.
He waited until it passed. "You're welcome, Ziva. And, your secret is safe with me," Tony intoned to her.
"I know, and I thank you for that, too." Another rumble rolled over the apartment and Ziva almost screamed and dug her nails into Tony's hands. Only her will and Tony's embrace stilled her that much.
"How long is this storm supposed to last," she asked.
"Most of the night. Can I leave you alone enough to go to the bathroom real quick," he asked.
Ziva looked scared. "I think so," she started, then buried her head in his chest when another rumble sounded.
Tony grunted as he sat up straighter. "Okay. Hold on." Tony threw off the quilt and gathered Ziva in his arms, grabbing the failing flashlight.
"Tony, what are you doing," she looked at him in shock.
"Well, I can't leave you here, I like my coffee table too much. Therefore, there's only one thing to do," he smirked at her as he stood.
"Tony, I will be fine. You do not have to do this." Her protests went ignored as Tony stepped around the couch and headed for the bathroom door. The flashlights fading beam played around the walls as he walked. "Tony, I do not think that we are this close as partners to do this."
Tony carefully maneuvered her around the door jamb and moved to the toilet. "Okay, I need you to hold on to my neck tightly, I have to unbuckle my jeans. Ow, Ziva, not that tight," he complained as she slowly released her death grip on his neck.
"You said to hold on tight. I wish I did not have to." Secretly, she was in awe of his strength. He was holding her up with one arm while she did little more than balance herself in his arms. She heard him unzip his pants and felt the jostle as he dropped his pants and underwear at the same time.
He sat on the toilet and grinned at her, quickly turning it into a frown. "What is wrong, Tony. Not used to having an ambulance," she smirked.
"Audience, Zi. And no, I'm not. Not to worry." He closed his eyes and raised his head as he thought of anything other than Ziva in his arms as he sat there with his pants around his ankles.
Baseball…No, no bat and ball sports. His face screwed up. Abraham Lincoln. Medusa. The guy in HR with limp sweaty hands. Once he had his mind cleared, he concentrated on the business at hand.
Then he began to softly chant, "Waterfalls. Running faucet. Rain." Hard…Pounding…Rain…He was snapped from his reverie by a yell and his eyes shot open, staring into Ziva's.
"Tony! Do not urinate," Ziva looked at him pleadingly.
"Ziva, I really gotta go," he said as he closed his eyes again.
"Tony, if you pee on me, I will invent new ways to kill you with a paperclip" she growled at him. Tony's eyes shot open again. Ziva looked in his eyes, full of laughter. "You are no longer pointed at the bowl."
Tony's mind wondered, How would she know…unless…Tony flexed his stomach muscles and knew immediately what the problem was when he came into contact with her butt.
He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Zi. Guess holding a beautiful woman in my arms isn't the most constructive thing I could do right now."
"Should I get up then," she asked.
He quickly shook his head. "No, please don't. I wouldn't want to give you the Full Monty, Ziva. I might ruin you for any other man."
Ziva scoffed and, before Tony could stop her, she stood up. Her eyes bulged and her mouth gaped as she stared at him. He was so in shock that he just sat there for a few seconds, before he realized what he was doing, or rather, not doing. He quickly covered himself which broke the spell that Ziva seemed to be under. They were both red and flushed. The temperature in the small bathroom seemed to have jumped ten degrees in just seconds.
"I will just wait outside the door, yes," she quietly said. Before he could stop her, she had moved out and closed the door. As the door closed, a roll of thunder hit the apartment and Tony heard her fists smash into the wall.
Realizing that his drywall was in danger, he quickly finished and stood. After pulling up his pants and fastening them, he washed his hands, grabbed the flashlight, now barely putting out any light, and hurried out the door. He saw Ziva standing with her head against the wall, her hands over her ears, and her eyes tightly shut.
He cautiously touched her back. "Zi, its okay. We can go back to the couch now."
She nodded and moved against him. He wrapped her in his arms and walked them back to the couch. They sat back down and Tony pulled the quilt over them.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, separated only by Ziva squeezing him into a death hug whenever thunder rumbled. Ziva finally broke it. "Good thing that you have not ruined me for all men, Tony."
He could hear the smile in her voice and decided to play along. If it helped her get over her fear, he would do it. Only a small part of that was preservation of his ribs, so he told himself. "Oh, why is that, Zi?"
She looked into his eyes, a playful grin on her face. "There are times when I wish for a small man. I believe the line is 'it is not the size of the wave, but the motion of the ocean', yes?"
Tony grinned. "That's the expression. There's a second, little known part of it, however." At Ziva's questioning look he continued with a bigger grin. "It goes, 'but it takes a hell of a long time to get to England in a rowboat.'"
She guffawed and dropped her head onto his chest. She did not even notice the next roll of thunder, as her laugh was louder than it.
When she quieted down to soft chuckles and finished wiping the tears from her eyes she looked up at him. Their faces were inches apart, and her chuckles stopped immediately. Both their faces got very serious as they moved closer to each other. Another rumble went by without either one noticing.
"Ziva," Tony started.
"Yes," Ziva looked into his eyes, a downcast expression growing on her face. It was matched by Tony's.
They held, less than an inch apart. When Tony breathed out, Ziva breathed in. When Ziva breathed out, Tony breathed in.
Tony blinked quickly and said, "We have to. Count of three?"
Ziva wet her lips. "One," Ziva started.
Tony wet his lips. "Two," Tony continued.
As they both said, "Three," both brought their hands up, head slapping the other, crashing their foreheads connecting and bouncing off each other. Their faces apart now, their breathing was getting heavier. A roll of thunder crashed and the sound of a large tree branch falling made their eyes break contact and look toward the window over the kitchen sink.
"That one was close," Tony said.
"Yes," Ziva answered. "Both of them were."
Tony wondered which was worse. The sadness he felt inside of him, or the sadness he heard in her voice.