Tony watched as Gibbs shuffled a few papers, stowed them away, and shut off the light as his desk. He got up, grabbing his coat and bag, and overlooking the desk one last time to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He walked past the two remaining agents in the squad room, giving them each a nod and a muttered wish for a good night, before heading to the elevator. McGee had left nearly an hour prior, as soon as the clock had hit five, apparently in need of making it to some appointment or another. Tony had assumed it was code for "Got another date with my hot blonde gammer." He had expected Ziva to head out shortly after, but she'd stayed still, diligently working on paperwork that had backed up for both of them given an unusual case load this last week.

Tony rarely stayed later than Gibbs. He certainly didn't want to be doing his work and would have rather shoved it off onto McGee's shoulders the next morning with a whine and particularly hard to resist pair of puppy eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to leave his partner here alone. He watched her quietly, rolling the end of his pen against his lip as he did so. She'd been distant, cut off from most of the people around her for the last few days. He couldn't lie and say he didn't know why; no one could. Ziva's break up with Ray had been a rather messy and public affair. All he'd wanted to do since then was talk her into going for drinks, make her smile, and get her mind off the bastard for a little while. Every time he tried, she always turned him down, and he was forced to walk to his car, alone and defeated, and wishing there was something more he could do.

Tonight was going to be differently, however. He refused to just walk away in defeat and instead found himself continuing to sit in his own chair, doing his paperwork, and waiting for her to be the one to gather her things and leave. He glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting, and wondered whether or not she was ever going to make that choice. He tried not to think about it and instead focused on simply staying with her, giving her quiet company, and waiting for her to notice it.

It took nearly an hour before she spoke, not even bothering to look up from her papers. "Why are you still here, Tony?"

"Why are you?" He put his pen down, looking at her again, brows raised in curiosity. She'd been dodging questions that required more than monosyllabic answers for days now and he was hoping this would be a rare time when he'd backed her into a corner and she would need to actually use her words.

Instead he got a shrug and she quietly went back to scribbling.

Oh yes. She was very crafty.

"I'm staying here as long as you do, Ziva," he said finally, going back to look at his work. "I'm tired of you spending all your grief alone."

She said nothing, though the writing had stopped. He could practically hear her thinking, the tension between them loud and ominous. He expected to get told he was waisting his time, that he should get his things and go. Or maybe she'd go back to ignoring him, continue with her work, and just quietly accept his presence without really acknowledging it. It would mean they'd probably be here all night, one trying to stubbornly out last the other, but...

Before he could finish his thought, there was the soft click of her light being shut off, the sound of her drawers opening and closing, and the creak as she got up out of the chair, grabbing her bag and throwing it over her own shoulder. He didn't glance up from his papers, wondering if she was simply going to leave, or if she was trying to trick him into thinking she had so she could be left alone. He wouldn't have expected any less from her, really. She never liked to be forced into company.

What he hadn't thought would happen was to have her shadow suddenly hanging over him. Tony wrinkled his forehead, looking up to her from his chair, and trying to figure out what exactly she was waiting for. She said nothing and he finally was the one to break the silence.

"Yes?"

"... Drive me home." The words were said quietly and once out between them, she turned to head for the elevator. Tony sat there in some sort of temporary shock, trying to get the words to register properly, until he heard the ding and the familiar woosh of air as the doors parter. He quickly shoved away his papers, shut off the light, grabbed his bag, and ran for the doors himself. He made it just in time to slide into the elevator next to her, leaning against the wall and staring at the now glowing button for the garage.

"Does this mean I win?"

She gave a small 'hmph' and left no other confirmation or retaliation for his question. A smile tugged at Tony's lips. He'd take that as a yes.

The silence hung between them through the short ride to the garage. It stayed there even as the doors opened and he gave a motion that clearly said, Ladies first. Even as they passed by her car, Tony raising a finger in question, Ziva gave him a look that silenced the words before they could even get out. She didn't seem to care what people would think when they saw her car was still here or figure out how she would get around for the rest of the long weekend that was ahead of them without one. If she didn't want to worry about it, Tony wasn't going to worry about it either.

Unlocking the car, they both opened their doors simultaneously. They stayed in unison as they sat in their seats, closed the doors, and put on their seat belts. Tony played some with the rearview mirror as Ziva used the one on the passengers side to fix her hair. He put in the keys, turned on the engine, and they both let out a long sigh as he reversed and headed out of NCIS headquarters.

Being partners for so long had certainly made them learn how to work in sync.

The silence still lingered as they drove off down the road. Tony tapped the steering wheel some as he kept his eyes on the little traffic around them. Ziva leaned her head gently against the window, watching the lights roll by, clearly deep in some thought Tony only wished he could hear. He had been about to reach for the radio just to give some background noise when she finally opened her mouth and spoke.

"Do you ever wish you could just... drive? Leave everything behind?" She let her head come off the window, looking over to Tony, and biting at her lip. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, clearly trying to figure out whether or not she was serious. "I know we do not often have the luxury as Gibbs needs us on call so often, but... It would be nice. I think I only feel at peace these days when I am driving." She turned her head back to the window, watching the lines of the road this time instead.

Tony didn't reply. He chewed at his lip, rolling her words around in his head. He had wanted to help her relax, to keep her calm and happy, even when she seemed to think no happiness existed in the world any longer. Here, she was giving him a key, a small glimmer at what helped her to feel so much better about herself. Tony let the words sink in, and with a quick check to see if there were any cars behind him, steered across the lanes and into the ramp onto I-95.

Ziva tensed, startled by the change in direction. "What are you doing?"

"Driving," he said simply, leaning back to get into a more comfortable position once he was able to merge into traffic. "Just like you wanted." For someone who usually fills the silence with so much talking, Tony decided it was best to keep his words short and to the point this time. Ziva stared at him for a moment and Tony wondered if he had made the wrong decision.

"Where are we going?" she said finally, relaxing, and looking to the side to take in the highway around them.

"Haven't figured that out yet." He could hear her chuckle dryly and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her shake her head and bring her hand up to rub her brow. It seemed to be more an expression of disbelief than irritation, but he didn't have much time to take it in as his eyes flickered back to the road.

"This is crazy, Tony," she said finally. "Turn back around, we should stay in D.C." Her voice seemed to have more defeat in it than actual desire to return and because of it, Tony did nothing of the sort, bypassing yet another exit on the highway as he drove on a road leading, as far as he was concerned, absolutely no where.

"North or West?" he said finally, smiling to himself and not bothering to acknowledge her comment in the slightest. "I'm not turning the car around to head South and, well, East seems a little bit on the wet side. Never did manage to get the Bond car that can drive under the ocean." He purposefully laced his voice with disappointment at such a ridiculous fact.

Ziva was quiet for a moment, staring at him, silently taking everything into consideration. He could feel her thinking, practically, and wished she'd pick something to say. Finally she pointed ahead of them. "North works fine, I suppose. Just do not take me to Vermont." The state was said with more bitterness than he imagined she had towards almost any landmass (short of possibly Somalia). He had a feeling Florida was on the same black list at the moment. He nodded at her request, stepping a bit more firmly on the gas pedal and allowing them to accelerate forward.

They went back to the silence, though this one was far more comfortable than the last. It was late - almost midnight, even - and neither knew how long the drive would really go for. Ziva leaned forward to turn Tony's iPod onto shuffle, chuckling when the soft sound of classic jazz filled the car. She was beginning to wonder if he listened to anything else. Leaning back in her seat, she stretched her legs out in front of her and got comfortable.

"You should let me drive," she muttered as Tony yawned loudly. They'd were well passed New York City, it was nearing five in the morning, and Tony couldn't help but give her a side look before letting his eyes drift back to the road in front of them. "You can sleep in the back and I will keep going."

"You're not driving my car," he grumbled, glancing at the exits on the highway. "I value this automobile far too much to see it wrapped around a pole." He cleared his throat, rolling down the window to get the cold breeze on his face in order to jolt himself awake. "Besides, like I could ever sleep while you drive."

She rolled her eyes, not bothering to argue further, and folded her arms over her chest as she looked out the window. "Then we should find a hotel. You can not continue driving like this."

He cleared his throat, digging into his pocket to pull out his smart phone. Handing it over to her, he didn't take his eyes of the road as he spoke. "I've got an app that'll search for lodging in the area. There should be some with AAA discounts on there. See if you can find one within the next couple of exits?" She reached out to take the phone from him, her hand sliding carefully away from his, almost lingering while pulling away at the same time. It reminded him a particular plane ride. He shook his head a little to push the thought from his mind, putting both hands back on the wheel again and sitting a little straighter.

"There is a bed and breakfast off the road of the next exit. If you do not mind that it does not have your battery discount, we could stop there." She paused, wrinkling her forehead in confusion. "Why do they give you a discount for using those tiny batteries anyway?"

"... Because some people are just nice like that," he said in a deadpan, not even bothering to explain, and simply rolling his eyes gently. He wasn't sure how she had transferred her license and held it for so long without finding out what AAA was, but he couldn't really hold anything passed her. "Plug the address into the bitch in a box -"

"The what?"

He sighed, pointing to the GPS unit on the windshield. "That thing! Punch it in so we don't get lost." Ziva gave him an irritated look for having gotten so snappy, but did as she was told without complaint. She copied the address as carefully as she could and hit the little green go button before placing it back into its holder.

It didn't take long to find it once they'd gotten off the highway. The town was small and there wasn't even a McDonald's or Starbucks to be found in it. The house was an old colonial, painted in bright, pastel colors that made it look like it should be made of gingerbread and being eaten by two little gluttonous children. Tony gazed at it from behind the wheel, scrunching his mouth. "I'll go check us in. You wait here in case there's no vacancy." He slipped out of his seat before she could object, closing the door behind him.

The inside of the house was no less kitschy; the walls were covered in what looked like old Victorian photos, but were likely the kind you got at fairs with your friends dressed up in old clothing to make it look like you had ancestors leave you photographs from forever ago. That or he'd bet his badge that they were purchased at antique stores and garage sales for fifty cents. The walls were painted pinks and whites and made it feel like a cupcake factory had exploded inside it. He scrunched his mouth, went over to the counter and quickly tapped the bell to try and get some service. An old man came around the corner a few moments later, smiling broadly.

"How can I help you, sir?"

Tony pointed towards the staircase with his thumb. "You gotta room?"

The man nodded, going to look at the key rack behind him. "Looks like I got... one with two twins or a king. What'll it be?" He turned back to face Tony, that same broad grin on his face as he waited for an answer. Tony tapped his fingers lightly on the counter, debating. He glanced back over his shoulder at the door, knowing Ziva was sitting and waiting in the car behind it. His mouth scrunched in thought. He always did enjoy sleeping next to her, even if he knew it wasn't the most appropriate thing. A blatant breaking of rule number twelve.

He'd done worse with EJ, hadn't he?

"The king'll be good. Too tall for a twin anyway." He held out his hand for the key.

"Do you ever think about Paris?" Ziva said as Tony closed the door to the room behind them. It made him pause, his hand hovering on the handle. He shrugged as he let it go, going to look around the room as though it held pieces of art that were absolutely fascinating and not just more of the same, cheap, antique store photographs as the downstairs lobby.

"Sometimes," he muttered as he looked at the all too famous painting of dogs playing poker with far too much interest. "It was a hell of a city."

"We never really talked about it," she said casually, going to smooth out the already far too flat sheets on the bed. "At least not outside how beautiful the city was."

"Not much to talk about, is there?" He brushed some dust off the frame, before turning around to look at her, hands shoved in his pockets. "Just another mission."

She looked him over thoughtfully before giving a dissatisfied, "Hn," and going to check out the bathroom. Tony let his head fall back, silently wondering why this conversation of all things had had to come up. He was in no way sure how to talk about the emotional connection they'd shared in Paris. About the fact that he had watched her sleeping so peacefully curled up beside him, tucking the hair carefully behind her ear, and hoping she didn't wake up. It could lead to further discussions about feelings and rules and other things he'd really rather just avoid talking about all together.

He went to place the emergency overnight bag that he kept in the backseat of his car by the side of the bed, glancing over his shoulder at the cracked-open bathroom door. "I've got a t-shirt in my bag if you want to borrow it for the night. I don't think your work clothes make comfortable pajamas." He pulled the Star Wars t-shirt from the bag, tossing it onto her side of the bed without waiting for an answer. She came out of the bathroom a moment later, going to pick it up and giving him a small smile of thanks. Turning back around, she went into the bathroom again to change.

He hadn't meant to spy. Well, maybe a small part of him had when he noted her could see a slim portion of her profile when she hadn't closed the door all the way. He let his eyes linger as she pulled off her blouse and work pants. His breath caught in his throat as she went to unhook her bra. It was then that he tore his gaze away, going to look out the window instead. Tony would be the first to admit he loved to look at women, but he felt like watching Ziva undress when she had no idea he was able to see her felt... wrong. It wouldn't have felt wrong when they'd first met six years ago, but his opinion on women and sex had changed drastically since then. He couldn't bring himself to disrespect her in such a way.

He was perfectly happy to take in the sight of her walking out of the bathroom in his shirt, however. The hem came down to only barely cover her, at least three-quarters of her thigh still very much in view. He watched as the hem rose another inch as she stretched before crawling under the covers. Swallowing, he went to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Once in his boxers, he went to crawl into bed next to her, trying to keep some space between them. After reaching over to turn off the light, he rested his head on his arm, trying to get comfortable on an unfamiliar mattress. They were quiet for a while, both staring at the darkened ceiling. It was Ziva who spoke first, breaking the silence with a softly muttered, "Thank you, Tony."

He rolled over onto his side, supporting his head with his hand and staring over at her. "For what?"

"This." She waved her hand to the room around them, shifting her head so she could look him in the eyes. "Being... a good man." She looked back up at the ceiling. "After everything that has happened, I needed a reminder that not all of the people I love are going to betray me."

The word "love" rung loud and crisp in his ears. He tried to remind himself she meant a general love, a platonic feeling that likely meant nothing he really wanted it to mean. Tony smiled softly, going to place a hand on hers and giving it a small squeeze. "What are friends for, right?" He let his hand slip away from hers as he went to lay on his back again, once more staring up at the ceiling. The silence willed itself between them again. Tony listened quietly to the sound of Ziva's breathing, chewing at his lip as he tried to think of what to say. Should he have pushed about the word love? Should he have asked her to talk more about Ray? To open up for once about what had happened to her in a situation? Or maybe he could have said something more important. Something with more meaning attached.

"I think about Paris," he said finally, not looking at her. "I think about it all the time. I have that picture of you framed at home. I keep it on the bookshelf with other team photos, you know. So I can look at it whenever I want to. It reminds me..." He trailed off, not sure if he wanted to continue, but clearing his throat some, he pressed onward. "It reminds me of how I - we - felt that night. It was a good night. A really good night. Very... Roman Holiday, only without a pier party and no jumping into the water." He paused, rubbing his neck lightly, trying to decide if her silence was an encouragement or a sign for him to stop talking. She'd said she wanted to talk about it, hadn't she? "And I think... about how nice it was. To sleep next to you. I hadn't really slept next to anyone in a long time and you felt so right curled up next to me, you know? You fit perfectly, really. Maybe it was the city that made me feel that way. I mean, it's the city of love, right? Or is it just the city of lights? Either way - Gibbs would back me up. That place is dangerous for partners. Though I don't know if it would've mattered what city we were in. It was just... easier. To not think about rules. When we're away from D.C." He rolled onto his side so he could face her again. "You gonna say anything?"

More silence.

He felt a nervous knot in his stomach, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She gave a soft snort, rolling onto her side and placing a hand on his chest. She was out cold.

Tony sighed, going to lay back into the pillows again. "This is like a beginning to a bad Woody Allen film," he grumbled to himself, before closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep himself.