Irrelevant, a ncis fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS

A/N: I realise that not everyone likes TIVA. I'm hot and cold on it personally. But this is a Christmas present for Tiva4evaxxx, who obviously is into TIVA. So if you don't like it, don't read it.

A/N2: Warning – this is very, very, very, very cheesy. I mean, my own writing is making me cringe. I expect to be teased for this piece – I'm teasing myself! So with the safety warning out the way, on with the story . . .

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ziva felt herself tense as she remembered again. Seeing him kiss someone else . . . it had distracted her. Ridiculous, really. She had no claim to Tony. But nevertheless it had distracted her. And that was why McGee was hurt. She was meant to have his back, meant to look out for him. Instead she had been watching Tony. Tony with her. Ziva didn't even know her name. It didn't matter anymore though. She was going back to Mossad. Her mistake had only happened because she had forgotten her Mossad training. Feelings are irrelevant. Never get distracted. She would re-learn. And she would never let her feelings cause a problem again. No-one would ever get hurt because she wasn't thinking straight.

"No, Ziva."

She was broken out of her reverie. Gibbs held her badge back out to her.

"You think you can bail on me now. With McGee in hospital! Yes Ziva, you made a mistake. Get used to it. Live with it. But for the love of God don't think for a second you can run away from it!"

She was shocked. She wasn't running away, she was just trying to protect them. As though he knew what she was thinking, he said,

"Don't kid yourself Ziva. It's the coward's way out. Just make sure it doesn't happen again. If it does you can forget quitting – I will send your ass back to Israel before you can so much as drop your badge on my desk."

"Understood, Gibbs."

She took her badge. This didn't change any of her previous resolutions; it just made them more complicated. She would get over Tony. He would never be a distraction again. She wouldn't get jealous when she saw him with another girl. She wouldn't worry about him when she was supposed to be worrying about something else. He would become her work partner and only her work partner. No more messing around. No more 'education in American culture' (movie nights). No more watching him when she was meant to be working. No more getting lost in him. Back to basics. Feelings are irrelevant.

She dropped by a florist and picked up some flowers for McGee. On the card she scrawled – 'I am sorry.' When she went up to his room he was asleep. She was glad, because she didn't think she could face him right now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She woke early, at three, and went for a longer run than usual, preparing. She took a cold shower, dressed semi-formally, and headed to work early too. She completed her paperwork and immediately began to look at cold cases. Completely professional. Not that she'd been tested yet. It was easy to be professional when Tony wasn't around. Talk of the . . . demon? No, devil, she thought as the man himself emerged from the elevator, whistling.

"So, Zee-vah, will I see you tonight for pizza and American culture?"

"I'm busy."

"Okay," he replied, unfazed. "Tomorrow night then?"

She took a deep breath and steeled herself. This was the hard part. Cruel to be kind. Hurting him to protect him.

"No Tony, I don't think so."

As he suddenly caught her meaning Ziva saw surprise and hurt cross his features. It took all her will power to stay strong. Feelings are irrelevant. You do what you have to.

"Oh, I see. Okay," he said, sounding dazed. "I, I have to go. . . go see Abby. Um, I'll see you later."

She waited till he had left the bullpen to let her head drop to her desk. How could she let herself become so emotional, so attached, so . . . in love. She had known, but refused to believe that she was in love with Tony. But it was irrelevant. Feelings are irrelevant. Forget about him.

It was half an hour before he returned. Luckily, Gibbs had been arguing with the director the entire time. When he did come back, he just sat at his desk, absentmindedly staring at paperwork. Obviously, half an hour was long enough for him to pretend to forget how firm she had forced herself to sound. He began to scrunch paper into a ball. Ziva sighed inwardly. Test number two. She remembered all the harmless paper missiles she had good naturedly (for the most part) allowed to hit her. She reached out to grab the small object flying through the air and dropped it in her bin. She didn't even look at him.

Tony couldn't understand why she had suddenly become so cold. Even in the beginning, Ziva was never this . . . unfeeling. She sat across from him and worked. Just worked. Didn't tease him, didn't even look at him. He loved her, and just when he had began to think that one day she might love him too . . . she had pulled away. Officer Ziva David, he thought bitterly. Heartless, cold, assassin. Not worth it, he told himself. Not worth breaking your heart every single day over. But he didn't believe it for a second. She was worth it to him. Unable to take it anymore, he stood.

"Ziva, we need to talk."

"No Tony, we don't."

"Yes we do. Conference room. NOW."

She had forgotten how Gibbs-like he could be. She rolled her eyes as she followed him to the elevator. But she didn't look at him, she couldn't. The elevator jolted to a halt. Now more than ever, she needed to be strong. Feelings are irrelevant. She brought her eyes up to meet his.

"What is it, Tony?" she asked, allowing ice to fill her voice.

He was staggered by her cruelty, but pushed onwards.

"Ziva, what is going on with you? You're cold, you're distant, you can barely bring yourself to look at me . . . what have I done?"

It was only natural for Tony to think it was his fault. The hard thing was to let him keep thinking that.

"I just can't handle you right now Tony! I can't handle you being rude and obnoxious –"

Ziva David still had all her training. But she was no longer a hardened Mossad officer. More difficult to take than any form of torture, it was the hurt in his eyes, yet still mixed with kindness and concern for her, even after what she was doing. It was his goodness that broke her.

"I can't handle the thought that next time it might be you."

"Next time – Ziva what are you talking about?"

"McGee is in hospital because I did not have his back, Tony. And I did not have his back because I was concentrating on you and the bimbo you were leading out of the bar. Don't you think it's hard enough that McGee was hurt because of me? What if it were you Tony? What if it were you who got in trouble just because I was distracted?"

And she collapsed into his arms. Stunned, Tony just held her as she sobbed into his shirt.

Ziva cursed herself, pushing herself away from Tony.

"Tony, I'm so sorry. I thought I could do this, I can do this. I'll force Gibbs to accept my resignation, I'll take it straight to the director –"

He kissed her, pushing her against the elevator wall, pouring months, years of frustration into it. And she felt herself melt into him, run her fingers through his hair, pull him closer despite her shame. She was no longer in control of her own body and she gave up, surrendering to him, to herself, doing what she had once teased him about and letting loose, doing what came naturally to her. Feelings are irrelevant. Yeah, right.

Please review. Even if just to tell me you hated it.