This story is dedicated to all the Cote/Ziva/Tiva fans, especially the lovely people on tumblr. Happy Valentine's Day!
Disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS. OBVIOUSLY.
Tony DiNozzo is running late. He promised his wife a night out, their first since their daughter was born four months prior. Their reservation was for 7:30, but the clock on his dash read a mocking 9:18. To make matters worse, the gas gage was nearing empty and he would have to make a pit spot delaying him even further. He had made the obligatory call to her when it had become apparent that he would not be leaving the office on time. His tone was sincere and apologetic, but she assured him that she understood. "But it's Valentine's Day," he had practically whined into the receiver. He knew she was rolling her eyes. She was the only person whose body language he could read over the phone.
In truth, he knew she was indifferent to the holiday, although he thought she might have been genuinely disappointed in not having at least one night to themselves. But if that were the case, she hadn't let on. Ziva had been consistently loving and supportive, more kind and understanding than he would have been capable of had their roles been reversed. She spent her days at home now, devoting her time and energy to motherhood. He had accepted the team leader position following Gibbs' retirement almost three years earlier. There were nights when he returned home exhausted from the job and not able to give either of his girls the attention they deserved. He admired her strength, knowing full well the days spent with their daughter could be taxing without any grown-up contact.
He was thinking of how much he could have used the night alone with his wife as he pulled into the gas station. He couldn't remember the last time they'd had a conversation that didn't involve his team, the contents of their daughter's diapers, or laments over their shared exhaustion. "Yeah, a night out would have been nice," he said to no one, shaking his head as he turned the car off and made his way inside the convenience store.
Striding through the door up to the cashier's booth, he walked past stands that undoubtedly held single-wrapped roses and were now depleted of their contents. He took in the consumer carnage likely created by many other husbands remembering this day of love at the last minute and hoping to spare their partners' heartache with a gas station flower and box of chocolates. "At least I remembered the card this morning," he said with a resigned sigh as he handed over his debit card to the cashier. He glanced down to the counter and a display of small boxes – conversation hearts. Chalky, sickly sweet confections traditional to all Valentine's Day celebrations. A memory edged out from his extensive catalog of moments with Ziva to the forefront of his mind and he couldn't help but smile.
The bullpen was quiet save for the clicking of keys and the low hum of electronics. Stepping off the elevator, he broke in to a grin as he called out to his team members and effectively broke their concentration.
"McCupid, catch!" Tony called as he rounded Ziva's desk and tossed a small box at McGee's head. Unfortunately, the junior agent's reflexes were not as quick as his typing fingers and the flying object made direct contact with his forehead.
"What the hell, DiNozzo!" McGee shouted as he rubbed his forehead. Tony grimaced and made a hissing sound through his teeth before turning to Ziva.
"Valentine's Day, McCan'tCatch. The day of love, romance, hearts a twitter!" He leaned forward over Ziva's desk, holding another small box of conversation hearts in front of her. He gave her his best DiNozzo-seduction smile as he playfully purred, "and one for you, Officer David."
Ziva pulled her eyes away from her computer screen slowly, a playful smirk curling to the side of lips. "And what is this?" She took the box from Tony, turning it over in her hand as her brows came together and her smirk turned into a quizzical frown.
"Office David!" Tony exclaimed with mock horror, clutching his hand to his chest, ever the clown. "Are you telling me you've never received a box of this chalky, sickly sweet confection? Conversation hearts are a part of the quintessential American Valentine's Day celebration! Beloved by second graders nationwide!"
"I have not," she replied with a questioning glare, looking him up and down as she waited for the punch line of his joke.
"Well, now you have." An easy smile lit up his face as he turned and walked to his desk, setting down his bag before taking his seat. She was surprised at his sincerity, and narrowed her eyes as she watched him turn on his computer and fiddle about his desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught McGee watching their interaction, still rubbing his forehead. Deciding to accept his gift, she pried open the box and shook several of the candies out into her hand. She held one up between her fingers, eyeing it with apprehension.
"U R CUTE" she read aloud, enunciating as she tried to make sense of the sentiment.
"Why thank you Ziva. You aren't bad either." Her eyes snapped up to Tony, who was grinning like a madman from his seat across the bullpen. She scowled at him, as she popped the candy in her mouth.
Remembering the little hum she gave as she sucked on the tiny candy, he turned to the cashier and handed over the box. "This too, thanks."
When Ziva had received his call earlier in the evening, she had just finished fastening her earrings. She was standing in front of their bathroom mirror when she glanced down to her phone that was balancing perilously on the rim of the sink. Her called ID was a photo of her partner taken on his birthday the year before. A half-drunk Tony complete with lopsided party hat smiled at her from the phone's face and usually brought a smile to her own. But a call from her husband twenty minutes before he was due home meant only one thing. She sighed as she reached for the phone, sliding her finger across ACCEPT. He was overly apologetic as he confessed to her his usual sin. She shook her head lightly, but her voice controlled her disappointment.
It was not that she cared about the intrinsically capitalist holiday, but a night out with her husband had sounded like a little bit of heaven. She loved motherhood, but as a partner and wife she had been feeling a bit neglected. She and Tony had jumped into their life together after she had returned. He had been promoted to team leader, less than a year later they married, and five months after found out she was pregnant. Life had moved swiftly and sometimes she found herself standing in their living room, holding their daughter, and trying to ground herself in the moment.
In those moments of reflection when she was completely honest with herself, there was still a pull on her heart for the time they spent apart. She had lived a lifetime in those two years, healing old wounds through travel and service. When they were finally reunited, spending two weeks holed up in an old farmhouse in northern France, she had been granted his forgiveness before she had asked. Their moving forward was hinged on Tony's forgiveness, Ziva leaving behind her guilt, and the mutual acceptance of their past transgressions. A hard won battle where both arose victorious. Their partnership stronger than before. The future no longer distant, with the sweet promise of love, family, and finally something permanent.
It was that slight tug of remorse that kept her disappointment in check. The last thing she wanted for this evening was for Tony to find her sulking on the couch, all dressed up with nowhere to go like a vapid damsel from one of his black and white classics. She gave herself a once over in the mirror, then proceeded to unfasten her earrings and drop them into the dish above sink. She returned to their bedroom where she slipped off her dress and returned it to the hanger. Covering it once again with a garment bag, she pushed it to the back of the closet, saving the slinky black number for their next evening out together. She headed back into the bathroom to wash off her perfectly-applied-20-minutes-leaning-over-the-sink-make-up, and fixed her hair up into a casual knot. She pulled back on her yoga pants and one of Tony's old t-shirts, but decided to leave the matching black lace bra and panties. "At least some part of tonight should be a surprise," she grumbled quietly as she made her way into the kitchen to start dinner.
Ziva lids the pot when she hears his keys in the door and walks toward the hall. He's toed off his shoes and is locking his gun and badge in the safe near the door when she comes to stand before him. He greets her with a sheepish, apologetic smile and she shakes her head lightly in response, arms coming to wrap around his neck. She presses her body against his and leans in to cover his mouth with hers. He recovers from the momentary shock of her welcome and wraps his arms around her tightly, pulling her even closer, rocking her back slightly as his lips respond in kind. The kiss is heated and needy. She can feel the warmth spread through to her toes. Tony's hands start to wander from her back, one moving down to grab her indecently and the other upward, massaging her shoulder blades before finding a home cradling her neck. Ziva's hands find his face, cupping his cheeks as she holds him close. She whimpers slightly into his mouth and Tony groans in agreement. Several long seconds pass before she braces her hands on his shoulders as they pull apart, his moving back around her waist. She rests her forehead against his, both panting for air, matching satisfied grins.
"Hello," she breathes against his lips, rubbing her nose against his lightly.
"Hello to you, too" he chuckles, clearing his throat as he regains his composure.
She pulls away a few inches to look him over, arms wrapping once again around the back of his neck. She can see the exhaustion written in the lines of his face, but his eyes are bright and his smile adoring. She presses her mouth to his again quickly, licking her bottom lip with a flick of her tongue as she pulls away. She's eyeing him coyly when he perks his head up, like a dog listening for the sound of a passing car.
"The house is quiet," he says with surprise. "Nugget down for the count?"
"I decided not to cancel the sitter."
"You mean Gibbs?" he settles her more closely against his hips.
"Well, yes," she tilts her head in reply. "He did give up his Mexican paradise for us after all. It seems only fair that he spends as much time with her as possible." Tony nods slowly, once again silently thanking the curmudgeon for his drop-everything-response to Ziva's request that he return stateside once their daughter was born. "And, even though we are not going out, I still wanted some time alone with my Valentine." She leans into him again, her lips soft against his. He takes his time with this kiss, trying to convey his love and appreciation for her without words. She pulls away after a few moments, only to stretch on her toes and wrap him in a tight hug. He sighs into her as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. The fresh smell on her skin of soap mixed with lavender has his muscles relaxing with each inhalation. His lips brush against her neck and she laughs lightly against him.
A loud groan echoes through the hall causing Ziva to burst into a fit of laughter. She pulls back from him quickly and he diverts his eyes down toward his stomach. His mouth contorts as he shrugs his shoulders. Ziva kisses the tip of his nose as she chuckles out, "I take it you are hungry, yes?"
He nods with a laugh, "yeah, pretty sure all I've eaten today was coffee."
"So unlike you," she chides, patting his cheek as she steps out of his embrace. "Good thing your loving wife prepared dinner."
"Have I told you, lately, that I love you…" he croons while following her into the kitchen.
He pulls off his jacket and lays it over the back of the chair. Reaching into the pocket, he pulls out the small box of candy, concealing it in his palm as he walks around the counter to stand behind Ziva. He wraps his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. She leans into him and he is immediately grateful for her overtly affectionate mood. The day had worn on him, this whole week really, and there is nothing he wants more than to touch and love on his wife.
He holds up his hand in front of her and she pulls sideways to look him in the eye. He shrugs his shoulders slightly, but she just smiles.
"You probably don't remember," he says in an uncharacteristically shy voice, "the first time I gave you a box of these."
"You are still cute," she says with a slight wiggle of her hips. He chuckles loudly and places a wet kiss to her cheek.
"You made the meal, I brought dessert." He shakes the box lightly.
With a suggestive raise of her eyebrows, she replies, "funny, I thought I was dessert."
Several hours later, his arm is dead weight across her stomach and she's listening to his quiet snores with a satisfied appreciation. She turns her head toward the door, trying to decide if she should venture to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Lying on the bed within an arm's reach is a tiny pink candy heart. She laughs to herself, wondering how long she'll be finding the errant candies around their bedroom, considering this evening's activities. She removes her hand from Tony's arm and reaches for the candy, popping it into her mouth quickly, giving a small hum of approval.
He stirs next to her and she turns her head back toward him. In this dim light, the circles under his eyes are more pronounced. She runs a finger along his brow bone, caressing his face lightly. His arm gives a tug to her waist, and he pulls her into him. She turns her body so her back is pressed into his chest. His arm tightens at her waist, as his other wraps around her chest, hand coming up to cradle at her shoulder. She is surrounded by him. With a heavy sigh he whispers her name into her hair, and she snuggles down into his embrace.
Placing a kiss onto his bicep she whispers, "Happy Valentine's Day, Tony."
Author's Note: I played around a bit with tense, hope it wasn't too confusing. Thank you for reading!