The plot of this story is stolen directly from Friends, season 8. As in, I watched this certain arc of Friends, then searched for stories that had this specific plot line, couldn't find any, so decided to write it myself. It takes place after season ten, once Tony, Ziva, and McGee are reinstated. Thanks muchly to Jae (jae-vous) for reading everything for me!
"And so, finally-"
"Finally," Tony repeats under his breath, low enough that only Ziva can hear. She tries to scowl at him but never quite manages it. Ducky's toast has grown a bit lengthy; her arm is beginning to grow sore from holding up her drink.
"-here's to teammates being reunited once more. Duty calls, my friends."
There is a pause as the words settle over the group, and then, predictably, Abby breaks the silence. "To Team Gibbs!"
Ducky and Jimmy chuckle; Tony and McGee rumble in agreement. Even Gibbs cracks a smile. Ziva finds herself filled with warmth from head to toe as she raises her glass to clink against the others'. Since being reinstated as an NCIS agent earlier this afternoon, she has barely been able to stop grinning. Her four months of unemployment are now a thing of the past. Everything is back to the way it is supposed to be: Gibbs' mission is over, Richard Parsons has cut a deal with Director Vance and taken his nosiness elsewhere, and she, along with Tony and McGee, will be reporting for work on Monday morning.
The past year has been hard on her- on all of them. But now, sitting in a restaurant with the eclectic group of people she considers family on a night that feels like a new beginning, Ziva feels more optimistic about the future than she has in a long, long time.
They drink to Team Gibbs. As glasses are plunked down and conversations resume, her partner lightly pokes her in the side. She turns toward him. "Hmm?"
"You wanna come over after this?"
His face is warm and inviting, his eyes hopeful. The two of them spent a lot of time alone together over the summer, since they were both out of work and McGee was busy writing his new novel. In fact, Ziva was at his apartment so often that she began buying him groceries, since he seemed completely opposed to the task and there was never anything for her to eat. She loves how close she and Tony have grown, and she would honestly love nothing more than to end this wonderful day in the company of her partner and best friend.
"Sure," she replies, lightly tapping her knee against his beneath the table. "It's a date."
Tony grins. She pretends that her heart doesn't skip a beat.
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Two hours later, she is sprawled across the couch with her feet in his lap, nursing a beer and listening to- but not really watching- Moulin Rouge. Mostly, her eyes stray toward Tony. He has seen this moviea thousand times before, as evidenced by his tendency to mouth lines and react to events that have not yet occurred. Even so, he clearly continues to be fascinated by it. And Ziva is fascinated by him.
She is startled when one of his large hands settles on her ankle. Feeling her jump, Tony looks over. "You okay?"
"Yes." She leans her head back against the armrest, and Tony returns his gaze to the television. His fingers tickle as they slide lightly over her skin. To smother her giggle (which is probably somewhat alcohol-induced in the first place), she raises her beer to her lips. The sensation is relaxing; if she didn't have a bit of a buzz going, it might have been enough to lure her to sleep. As it is, Tony succeeds only in keeping her wide awake and kindling within her a very foolish desire to lean up and pull him in close.
They have not actually spoken of it; they're not the sort of people who put things out in the open. Even so, their mutual attraction is not a secret. Ziva has been harboring feelings for him so long that she can't even remember when they started, and she sees the way he looks at her; she notes the tenderness with which he touches her on the hip or arm. Last spring, they had seemed to be on the cusp of something more. The memory of dancing with him in Berlin still makes her stomach flutter like a teenager's. Then they came home and everything got complicated again, and that was a time when she did put the ultimate problem out in the open: their friendship was the most important one in her life. She could not afford to jeopardize it.
That friendship turned out to be her greatest comfort over the course of an otherwise difficult summer, and she has been so thankful for it. She's tried not to ponder the possibility of repaving the same path that she and Tony were heading down in April. Now, in her slightly drunken state of mind, with her inhibitions lowered somewhat, she does allow her mind to venture there. Because how long will their friendship last if they are both constantly fighting the desire for more?
"Ziva."
For the second time in ten minutes, he jars her from her thoughts. She snaps her head up to look at him. "Hmm?"
"Are you okay? You had a weird look on your face."
"Oh." Curling into her side of the couch, Ziva tugs her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. "Yes, I'm fine. Just thinking."
Tony shifts to face her, the movie apparently forgotten. "What about?"
She shrugs. "Things. Work." A breath in. "You."
Damn it.
"What about me?" he asks. There is his hand again, reaching for hers. She allows only a brief moment of hesitation before turning her palm outward and meeting him halfway, their fingers immediately entwining. His grip is warm and strong. Would it be too much to ask for him to always hold onto her like this, to keep her feet firmly rooted to the ground?
"Tony," she breathes. The movie plays on in the background, but it is just static noise; she doesn't hear a word of it. "Tony, I…"
He waits. She trails off.
"You know," he says, a hint of amusement laced through his voice, "you never actually finish that sentence."
And she still doesn't, not now. Instead, she lunges forward and kisses him.
His mouth opens in surprise; she takes it, takes whatever she can get. Soon, she feels Tony's muscles relax, and he seizes her around the waist. She presses herself as close to him as possible. Reason be damned, judgment be damned, this feels good. It feels right. Ziva has not experienced this sweet sensation of his lips on hers in far too long, not since that undercover operation years and years ago.
That was fake.
This is very, scarily real.
Tony breaks away just long enough to draw in a quick breath, then bows his head and brings his lips back to hers. They exchange a series of short pecks, some lingering longer than others. At their next breather, he whispers, "What are we doing here, Ziva?"
His eyes are wide; he appears exhilarated and terrified at the same time. She is more the former than the latter. Stroking along the waistband of his jeans, she drops a kiss in the hollow of his throat. "Whatever you want," she murmurs.
"You know what I want." The words come out on a sigh. "You know."
"Yes, I do," she admits. Shifting so that she is completely in his lap, she winds her arms around his neck and presses her forehead against his. She brings one hand up to caress his cheek. "We should let it happen, Tony."
Tony holds her gaze for a long moment, and then he tugs her back toward him. They move slowly; it takes a while for things to escalate. But when they do, oh, they do. Right before they reach the point of no return, they pause to have a hurried discussion about protection. She's on the pill; he is reluctant to continue with no condom, but that would require a trip to the grocery store, and she doesn't think she can bear to stop. After establishing that they're both clean, he gives in.
And she is so glad for it. Because when he braces his elbows next to her head and pushes slowly into her, stars burst in front of Ziva's eyes. She releases a low, guttural moan when he begins to move. He seals his mouth over hers and receives her sounds of pleasure, and she thinks that she has never loved him more.
Except for a few minutes later, when the world has fallen apart for the both of them and they are tangled together in his bed, panting heavily. Then, she realizes how far gone she is. It occurs to her that having sex with Tony could turn out to be either the best decision of her life, or the worst- and she wonders what, exactly, she has just done.
