This is my first foray into the NCIS fandom. This story in particular is due to the prompting and pushing of my friend, E. I hope it's enjoyable.
"Ziva, wait!" Tony called out. He followed her to the elevator and snaked his hand in between the doors before they closed. "Thanks," he said, unable to keep the sarcastic edge from his voice.
"Tony," she said tiredly, "what do you want?"
He did not answer right away, very aware that he needed to word his sentence just right or he risked her shutting down, and after how far they had come, he did not want to risk that. With practiced ease common between Gibbs and his team members, Tony flipped the emergency switch on the elevator. "I want to know you're alright," he said finally. His eyes searched hers questioningly before glancing at her bruised face.
"I am fine, you can see that, no? Now please, Tony, turn the elevator back on."
"No," he refused adamantly. Ziva's eyes snapped up to meet Tony's, and he caught sight of the fire he knew was at her center.
"It was not a question," she said dangerously, taking a step closer to him and breaching his personal space. "I would like to get some rest before I have to deal with the fall-in."
"Fallout," he corrected. "Before we have to deal with the fallout."
His plural pronoun does not escape her notice. "It is my mess, Tony, and I do not expect you or anyone else to clean it up." Though she appreciated the gesture she knew he was trying to make, the fallout of Bodnar's might take them all down if she let it. And she would not, not after they helped her track him.
"Don't you understand?" Tony asked her, stepping closer so the already diminutive space between them became smaller. "We are a team. We have your six." He took a deep breath before he continued, knowing his next words would completely obliterate the line they had so carefully marked in previous years. "I have your six."
Her head snapped up, and her gasp was audible. She knew, looking into his eyes, that the ball was in her court. "I did not want any of you to get involved," she said, choosing her words carefully. "If you, any of you," she corrected swiftly, "were injured, or worse, because of my actions..." Ziva trailed off, letting the silence speak for her. He should have known where she was coming from; she did not want to lose the life she had built for herself.
Tony took a deep breath, calming himself. Sure, he knew where she was coming from, but that did not mean he had to like it. "It's a little late for that, Sweetcheeks," he said, unable to keep just hint of bitterness out of his voice.
Ziva's head jerked up, a fire he had not seen since her father died in her eyes. "I did not ask you to involve yourself, Tony!" Her voice reverberated around the elevator, and she consciously lowered her voice. "It was my mess to clean," she reiterated.
Tony shook his head "It's not your mess, Zi," he said empathetically. He placed his hand carefully on her shoulder. "Your dad left you with his mess, and you think it is your job to clean up after him," he articulated. Tony wanted to cringe at his own words, but he stood his ground because he knew it needed to be said.
"He was my family," she said hesitantly, her voice think with held back emotion. Her tears threatened to break the dam she had so carefully constructed, and so she moved her head so Tony could not see her eyes shimmer.
"Hey, I get that, okay? I really do," he said softly. He took a step closer, and she did not pull away, but personal space had never played a major role in their unconventional partnership. Cautiously, so as not to cause self-harm, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer.
She grimaced, his movements jolting her injured shoulder, but otherwise remained unchanged with her head faced away from him. "They are probably wondering why I have not come down, yet," Ziva said, trying to find an opening to get away from Tony. She understood he was trying to help, but she had long ago reached her emotional capacity. And there were still things that he did not know. She hesitated before adding, "And you do not know everything that has happened."
Caught off guard by her last statement, his eyes grew wide. What more could there be to such a brutal story? "Ziva, it doesn't matter, not now."
She started to pull away from him, with her hands pressed against his chest, but he tightened his grip on her body. "Please, Tony," she asked, turning to face him once again. He saw the tears gleaming in her eyes, the ones she refused to let fall.
"It's okay if-if you want to cry," he said hurriedly, trying to force the words out before he could change his mind, "I won't tell anyone." His voice was sweet and tender, only trying to be helpful.
Ziva slowly started to shake her head, but much to her utter dismay, she felt a tear travel down her cheek. Slowly, she met his eyes and tried to show him what she could not put into words. Her tears continued to fall slowly, but with each passing second, Tony could feel the walls growing thicker around Ziva and her heart And her tears slowly dried.
"You have put up with too many of my tears these past months. I think" - here she finally managed to stop crying - "I can handle it on my own." She smiled a watery smile of her gratitude because her words were true. He had stepped up and been her knight in shining armor - even with all of the movie quotes and incessant babbling.
"Never too much with you, Zi," he said quitely. One of his hands left her shoulder and gently pressed against her cheek. She tried to once again hide from his gaze - even if they were confined to as small a space as the elevator - but he moved his other hand under her chin.
In turn, Ziva placed one of her hands on his that was resting on her cheek, the other still resting on his chest. She smiled delicately in response to his sentiment, only slightly incredulous at the stark turn in events. "Why?" she asked, desperately trying not to fall apart.
He smiled crookedly before answering simply. "We're partners."