Third attempt at an NCIS oneshot.

This will make the most sense if you have seen the season 8 finale. If not, there aren't major spoilers… this is just a potential season 9 scene, based off of something involving Ray towards the end of the episode… but I won't say what, in case you haven't seen it yet.

Enjoy!

The moisture in the air was thick enough to slice with a knife. It hung over the sandy beach and out over the ocean, and it seeped into Ziva's skin and hung heavily in her heart.

She crossed her arms over her stomach and stared at the horizon, nearly choking on the tears she was fighting to keep inside. Of course, there was nobody to blame but herself; she shouldn't have allowed anyone to get close enough to make her so vulnerable. Had she not learned her lesson with Michael?

Ray was using her the entire time. Their relationship had been an undercover assignment from Kort; everything she believed about what they felt for each other was a lie. Because he had lied.

When they- her team and his- had ended up in Israel because of a possible threat from Mossad to American national security, Ziva had realized how much Ray appeared to know about her childhood even though she almost never talked about it. And from there, she figured the rest out.

They were all back in D.C. before she would speak to him. And when she did, he apologized over and over again, saying that he felt bad about the whole situation because she was "a sweet girl".

A sweet girl. Those three words had ended their conversation, because upon hearing them, Ziva had simply turned on her heel and walked off. There was no reason to talk to him; he obviously knew nothing about her.

"What're you doing, Zee-vah? It's going to rain, you know."

Ziva barely suppressed a smile as she turned toward the familiar voice. Tony was there, in his usual work suit, although she noticed that he was not wearing his jacket or tie, and his shirttail was hanging out.

"I am a trained assassin, Tony. I believe I can handle a little rain."

"Yeah, but why are you going out of your way to stand where you're gonna get the wettest?"

She looked away and back to the water, watching it ripple in anticipation of the incoming storm. "I feel like I am already drenched."

Obviously, it was meant as a metaphor, and a cheesy one at that, but in some strange way, it was true. Tony, as always, understood completely, and he peered at her intently as he said, "Forget him, Ziva. He's an ass."

"Well, yes," she said, hugging herself tightly, "but I cannot simply decide to stop… to stop…"

"Being hurt."

Ziva glanced up at him sharply after he voiced the words she was afraid to say. She inhaled deeply, felt the saltwater sting her sinuses, before replying, "I suppose."

"You know, it is normal for a human such as yourself to have emotions," Tony said. "It's okay to admit that CI-Ray wasn't the Prince Charming you thought he was."

She glared now, her eyes narrowing into slits. "I did not think of him as a prince," she hissed. And she didn't. It was just that Ray really had seemed like he loved her, and although she had never expected perfection from him, she had thought he was for real.

Tony stood with his hands in his pockets, his head tilted slightly as he looked at her. Under that gaze, she felt obliged to elaborate. "All of my relationships have been ruined by Mossad, and I really thought Ray and I would be safe from them." Ziva's shoulders slumped and she sighed deeply. "Things are not meant to work out for me."

"Of course they are," he said, quickly enough to make her raise an eyebrow at him.

"What makes you say that?"

For a moment, he just looked at her, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Then he seemed to come to a decision, and he shrugged and said, almost nonchalantly, "You got me, don'tcha?"

Her jaw dropped a little on its own. Their eyes met, and she went back, back to Somalia, to watching Tony shrug and smile and say, "Couldn't live without ya, I guess." This man had quite literally gone to the ends of the earth for her, and now they were back here, together. Alive.

It was nothing short of miraculous.

Ziva stood on her toes and put her hand on Tony's cheek and pressed her lips to his. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her flush against him, her feet dangling six inches off the ground. They stayed glued together for several moments, not deepening the kiss, just enjoying the fact that they had finally gathered the courage to cross this line.

They separated, and he put her back on the ground. Her hands slipped from his shoulders, and she ran her fingers lightly over his neck before dropping them to her sides. Tony leaned forward, seemingly going in for another kiss, but Ziva put her hand up.

"I am not ready," she said, but she was smiling. "However, I will be soon."

He nodded, understanding her as always, but there was a slightly desperate look in his eyes when he asked, "How soon?"

"Very."

Ziva stepped closer to Tony and hooked her pinky finger around his. She started across the beach, and he followed without missing a step. They walked together, secure in the promise that whatever they had was beyond the reach of Mossad, beyond the reach of her father. What became of their relationship remained to be seen, but they did know that it was incapable of being destroyed; that much, they had already proven.

They stepped from the beach and onto a D.C. street. As their feet hit the concrete sidewalk, the storm clouds parted, and rays of sunlight cut through the air.

I put enough time and effort into this that I am going to post it, even though I don't especially like how it turned out. I would love to hear what you thought… review?