Disclaimer: I mean no profits with this story. The show and its characters belong to their owners.
Everything
By ShippyAngel
"Find me here, and speak to me
I want to feel you, I need to hear you
You are the light that's leading me to the place
Where I find peace again…
You are the strength that keeps me walking
You are the hope that keeps me trusting
You are the life to my soul
You are my purpose – you're everything."
(Lifehouse – Everything)
"Penny for your thoughts?", he teased in a hoarse voice, trading the warmth from the inside of the squad room for the cold of the night in its terrace. He was leaning casually against the wall, as though he'd been standing there for hours just watching her. It was amazing, really, how he could easily disguise his anxiety and concern with humor and flirtiness.
She didn't look back, but a shiver ran down her spine; she instantly replied "It will take you more than a penny, Dinozzo", making no effort to pretend that she hadn't recognized the idiom he's used. If it had been an ordinary day, she probably would – just for the sake of making him whine. But then again, if it had been just an ordinary day, she'd felt his presence way before his voice made itself known.
Tony stepped close to Ziva, not enough to touch her, but enough to let her know he was there.
Within reach.
Alive.
Real.
Their relationship was so comfortable by then, but they have always communicated better with glances and subtle touches, than with words. Tony was unsure of what to do, because something was definitely wrong with his partner. It wasn't like her to be so unfocused during a case or snapping aggressively for no reason (at anyone other than him, at least).
He reached for her, letting his coat settle on her shoulders, warming her up. He half-expected her to tease his chivalry with a smirk –that was what she would normally do–, but he knew she wasn't in that kind of mood that night. He let his fingers linger on her covered arms more than necessary, caressing her. He was treading a thin line and he was aware of that, but he simply had to. He couldn't help himself. He got tired of that little game they had been playing for years. He grew tired of holding himself back constantly. He didn't want to let go of her… Not then, not ever. And she had been so distant the whole day, almost as when she first came to NCIS.
Her lips curled up slightly, but she didn't drop her serious expression. She kept staring at the horizon, preventing what seemed to be tears from falling, and he felt weak in the knees. His heart started beating faster, because it looked like there was hope – for her to finally let him in completely, even though that was not the most suitable place for that.
Hell, he didn't care.
She was lost in her thoughts and he was evidently trying to be there for her. Sometimes, they would trade places; sometimes she would be the one to make him come out of his shell. And maybe there was hope for him, for her, for them to finally be together. Tony felt as though all risk was worth it.
But his mind kept telling him that she would never open up, especially not while in the Navy Yard. Either way, she had just left the office out of blue, as if she was about to throw up on her desk. That was equally uncommon. So if they were fighting the odds, he might as well gambler higher.
She finally locked eyes with him and he questioned 'Are you okay?' with a mere nod of his head. No words were needed. No words were ever needed for them to read each other. She rolled her eyes in response, as if saying 'You never change, yes?', referring to his unconditional hero-complex. Forgetting her own demons for a couple of seconds, Ziva wished she could just tell him that was the reason why she fell in love with him in the first place.
But her demons were fighting harder that night, and so she let that thought drop.
Tony leaned close to Ziva's ear, his voice filled with concern, as their proximity allowed him to see a stain on her cheek, left by the tear she must have shed seconds before. "You're crying", he said, more than asked.
"Nah," she waved her hand in the air, dismissing him. And she sniffled, "It's just... you know?"
He nodded, not knowing what to say. She put her tough façade back on, because she was certain he didn't know; he couldn't possibly know… Nobody knew. But much like so many other things about her, intimate things, maybe he could. They didn't talk about it as often as they should – her past, her family, Israel –, but Tony had caught some of the pieces in the rare times she mentioned it, pulling the puzzle together. He treasured her histories, held dearly against his chest all the glimpses from her private world, whenever she opened up to him. If she only knew…
Tony reached out to put a strand of Ziva's hair behind her ear, barely touching her at all. He wanted to face her fully; he wanted her to catch his most honest look, when he said "I actually do, Ziva."
To clear any confusion, he sufficed "How old would she be today?", and so she turned to him completely, with her lips slightly parted in surprise. He was glad and partially proud to get her undivided attention, instead of sharing it with the sky turning from orange to pitch black.
Ziva had a frown on her forehead, at first. How could he possibly know, if she never mentioned it? Maybe she had taken his investigation abilities for granted. Or maybe he just had a gut feeling, a good guess and decided to go for it. She must have been bitchy that day, she presumed. Either way, Gibbs had taught him well – Tony was not a probie, or a frat boy anymore. Her expression turned into acceptance, maybe a little bit of fear from being seen and… something else he couldn't understand.
He actually didn't have the time to understand, because Ziva wore that unreadable expression that made him question himself if they were ever truly familiar to each other. Her mind kept replaying 'How old would she be today, how old would she be today…' and having Tony to watch her go through that was too much for her.
The next thing he knew, she was getting rid of his jacket and crashing it against his arms with full force. Her right shoulder touched his left one, as she turned to get back inside. Tony tried to make Ziva look at him, but he failed to succeed. She was trying to hide; she was escaping through his fingers, again. He couldn't possibly expect it to be easy… But, just for once, he wanted it not to be so hard.
He tried to reach for her hand but, as his digits touched hers, she made a quicker getaway. He hated it but he had to accept her need for space. And then she whispered, with a constricted throaty voice "I cannot do this", she sniffled, "I am sorry".
"Ziva," he tried again, "Don't do this."
"Do what, Tony?", she asked, with her back to him.
He tried to reach for her, but she kept on walking without looking back. "Walk away?", she whispered, holding the door open. He couldn't see her face, but she sounded so hurt. He could tell that she was fighting hard to keep her tears from falling and her anger at bay. "That's everything I know."
And so he understood.
And with that, she was gone.
She was gone and he could only tell that the whole scene hadn't been just a fidget of his imagination because her scent lingered in the air, fulfilling the space she had left behind. He inhaled deep as he closed his eyes and asked himself if he was doing the right thing; if they were truly ready for all of that.
He wanted to go after her; but, despite his plans of changing things between them, he had already taken the first step – now she had to make up her mind. He couldn't force her, no matter how much scared he was; scared of losing everything they had built, scared of a possibly bad timing that would ruin everything.
They could be friends that shared movie nights every week. They could be partners who understood each other without words in the field. They had endless inside jokes. They had an amazing chemistry and a strong sexual tension that would never dissipate. But they remained treading the waters, just getting a taste of how things could be; they never dig too deep… and Tony was finally ready to admit that he wanted deeper and deeper and deeper with that Israeli woman who had changed his life for good.
The wind was cold and Tony felt as though Ziva's pain was his own. He ruffled his hair and remained with his eyes closed to try to make a better sense out of things.
But she was gone.
And being gone was like second nature to her…
That was everything she knew.
To be continued