This is my first NCIS fic but I'm a long time reader. I watched in my film class today Casablanca for the first time since Jetlag and I couldn't help but notice the similarities between Tony/Ziva and Rick/Ilsa. So after tonight's episode, this just kind of flowed out. This isn't meant to be a multi-chapter fic, just a monologue that is mostly thoughts not spoken word.

Sometimes I feel like Rick at the end of Casablanca.

Torn between jealously stealing away the woman I love, or letting her be happy with another man.

And like Rick, I will love her by letting her go.

So when she says that she has forgiven him and he has proposed to her, I am genuinely happy for her.

Or at least I tell myself that.

But she is happy, and she deserves to be happy so I tell myself that I too am happy.

I offer her advice and support pretending that I don't mind that the love of my life is going to marry another man.

A man who just happens to work for my favorite alphabet agency; the ever lovely CIA.

But unlike Rick, I am able to be there when that other man breaks her heart for the last time.

So when that homicide detective says to cherish each other in the elevator, I do just that.

I cherish her.

As we walk out to the parking lot to our respective vehicles she vulnerably looks up at me and admits that she rather not be alone tonight.

I direct her to my car and tell her we'll get hers in the morning.

I ask her what she wants for dinner and she whispers that Chinese is fine.

She stares absently out the window and I swear I can hear turbines going on overdrive in her brain.

We make it to my apartment and eat our dinner in silence.

Afterward she again looks at me vulnerably and asks if she can take a shower.

While she's in the shower I lay out an old Ohio State t-shirt that has since shrunk a bit after years of washing (I will never admit it is just too small for me now) and a pair of old basketball shorts.

When she exits the shower, dwarfed by my clothes, her eyes are rimmed in red and tears are rolling down her cheeks.

I quickly stand up from my place on my couch and engulf her in a hug.

"Why am I never allowed to be happy?"

She whispers this in my chest.

I want to kiss her right there and tell her that I can be the one to make her happy.

But that's not what she needs so I just hug her back.

I move her to the couch and pop in Casablanca.

It just seems fitting.

She leans her head on my shoulder and I take the blanket beside me and wrap it around the two of us.

Barely half way through the movie I start to hear soft snores coming from beside me.

The movie finishes and I am left with her sleeping soundly in the crook of my arm.

I pick her up bridal style and carry her to my room.

She barely stirs just briefly whispering my name which makes a cold chill run down my spine.

I lay her in my bed contemplating whether to snuggle in with her or not.

I pull my comforter over her making my decision.

Unlike Paris, I will willingly take the couch.

Again like Rick and Ilsa, we'll always have Paris.

I smile for a moment.

Maybe I won't wind up with her.

Maybe I will.

But for right now, she needs something solid, something permanent.

She needs something like our friendship.

So I will remain her rock.

Hoping, wishing, that I don't become Rick.

A bitter sentimentalist who sacrifices his own wants and desires for those he loves.

I bend down and kiss her forehead.

I whisper into the silent room,

"Here's looking at you, kid."

A/N: So that's it. And yes, I purposely didn't use any names but the characters in Casablanca. Thanks for reading!