note: Hey guys. So, it's the premiere tomorrow and I'm petrified, but last night I watched Safe Harbor (I'm leading a Diane Neal appreciation life right now) and this tag just would not go away. It's a little rough but things are happening tomorrow so I didn't want it to sit forever. It does actually hint at little bits that are currently issues within the show, or shall be, but it's not too long and not too deep. Just... stuff. Since it's not exactly fluff. Also the wine thing is just me I like it okay
sidenote; happy 10 years NCIS! Who knows where you'll go now but you've been okay up until recently.
disclaimer: Petrified.
listening to: Rainy Zurich, by The Fray.
She walks out into the parking lot to find Tony standing by her car, bag slung over his shoulder and a small smile on his lips. He looks a little tense, but she thinks nothing of it.
"Can I help you?" she teases with a smirk when she reaches him.
He doesn't do anything, though, merely shrugs with an almost sad expression on his face.
"Tony, what's wrong?"
He runs a hand through his hair, tiredly. "Sometimes I hate this job, y'know."
At her frown, he shakes his head. "You almost died today, you know that? We almost died. Think about it. You got trapped, on a boat, that was seconds away from going up in flames and we were almost too late. We didn't see it coming."
He's clearly unnerved, and a little distressed, and his worried tone of voice is enough to make Ziva reach out in mid-air and grab his flailing wrist momentarily, if only to distract him.
"We were okay, Tony. And I... I got out."
"You could've died. Both of us, we could die every single day and I knew that already but for some reason now, it's freaking me out. Even this last case, one case, it was insane! But it was so simple. And to deal with that every day? Ziva, I... I can't, and I couldn't..."
His hand raises and for a long moment Ziva's sure he's going to touch her cheek, but it falls, hitting his thigh ungracefully.
He looks defeated, and that scares her to death.
"Hey," she murmurs, reaching out to touch his arm in the rare comfort she knows how to give. Her hand moves up and down, gently smoothing over the crinkled creases of his jacket, right in the crook of his elbow. "Come over. I have a bottle of Merlot I want to finish. I'll even cook, if you want."
He hesitates a moment, but rests his hand atop hers briefly; there's gratitude in his eyes. He nods, and grins slightly before walking to his car and saying he'll meet her there. She gets it; sometimes, just being is enough.
"I spoke to Gibbs tonight, before he left. I asked him if he was lonely."
Tony takes a sip from his freshly-filled glass.
"Yeah? What'd he say?"
She grins, and sends him a look. "He said he is not; that he has his… kids."
He eyes her, then realization dawns.
"What, us? Huh. Well I guess we are a little like a messed-up kinda family."
She raises an eyebrow.
"Only a little? You are very much a child at times."
"I don't know what you mean," he sniffs. "But if you want me to get all sappy on you, David, then I'm gonna need another bottle of wine."
She throws a half-hearted punch his way, and though he yelps, she's distracted all of a sudden. Her hand lands on his knee, thumb running over it every now and then.
"Will it always be like this, do you think? Will we always be this little group, and only that? Nobody else? And, with the job as it is, and, well, like you said… we could die every day."
He sets his wine down, then tangles his fingers with hers to peel them from his sleeve.
"I think, no matter what happens, and... where we end up, we'll still be Gibbs' kids. We could be scattered all the way across the world, but we'd still be family, at heart anyway. Well, that's what I hope. I don't really wanna lose any of you guys."
Her eyes narrow in thought as his bore into them, and not for the first time she's aware of just how easy it is to get lost in his gaze. Her eyes flit to his lips almost out of reflex, but before she can lean in, he pulls away. Her heart is racing, and his eyes are wide, glistening back at her.
He clears his throat.
"Now, do you have more of this Merlot stuff? It's pretty good."
She grins, and flicks his ear as she stands. He squeals as she wanders past into the kitchen, then yells something about her being unfair when she only laughs.
Yeah, he really is a child sometimes. But that's just how she likes him.
Et voila. I don't know when I'll post something again, these things come and go in waves. Anyway, thanks for reading!
-Kiera.