just take the hand that's offered and hold it tight
this isn't everything you are
-snow patrol
…
He is silent for longer than Ziva has ever heard him be silent, and it makes her squirm uncomfortably.
When their flight is called, he stands quickly and heads toward the proper gate with her in his wake. She catches up as he's handing their boarding passes to the flight attendant. She's attractive, and Ziva is expecting some sort of flirtatious comment. It never comes.
With a sigh, she follows him. They take their sits in first class, something she was surprised NCIS had sprung for. She is pleased to find that the seats are spacious and the atmosphere inviting.
She is less pleased to find that the flight attendants serve drinks in first class.
"Scotch on the rocks," he orders when one approaches. He looks Ziva in the eye as if daring her to comment. She only raises an eyebrow and declines when she is offered a drink.
It comes quickly, before the flight has taken off. He orders another and again looks to Ziva.
"Are you going to drink the flight away?" she asks when the attendant has left.
"Planning on it," he answers, an edge to his voice.
She frowns but remains silent. The plane takes off, and when they are stably in the air the flight attendant brings his second drink. He downs it and looks to Ziva.
"This is not your fault," she says quietly.
"What's not my fault?" he counters stubbornly. He locates the flight attendant and orders a third drink. She gives him a hesitant look but fulfills his request. When she returns, Ziva snatches the drink from Tony's hand before he can get it to his lips. She waits for the challenge to come from him, but instead he simply looks at her.
"I should have listened to you," he mutters. "We both knew something was wrong and I refused to do anything about it."
She sets the glass down on her tray table. "You did not pull the trigger."
"I might as well have," he counters angrily. His eyes flash to the drink, then back to her face. "I fucked up and now Jenny's dead."
"And what do you think drinking will do?" she asks, the anger rising in her own voice. "You think you will forget?"
"I can try," he answers. Despite this, he still doesn't go for the drink.
She sighs. "It will not work, Tony, and you know it."
She knows he's given in when he turns away from her and sinks down in to his chair. "I am sorry, Ziva."
"For what?" she inquires.
He turns just his face toward her and grimaces. "For not listening to you, for not trusting your judgment. For everything."
"You do not need to apologize," she answers.
They are quiet for a long while. She watches him and he stares determinedly in another direction, avoiding her gaze. After a while she places his drink back on his tray table. He looks at it for a moment, swirling the liquids inside.
"It is my fault," he says.
Tentatively, she reaches out and places a hand on his knee. He looks up and meets her eyes.
"It is not your fault, and I will tell you over and over until you believe it," she says.
They watch each other for a while, both unmoving. Tony finally takes a sip of the drink in his hand. "I wish I could believe you."
She can't think of anything to say in response, so she moves her hand so that it's covering his and stares out the window when he tries to meet her eyes.
…
A/N: I watched Judgment Day recently and this wouldn't get out of my head.