Disclaimer: I don't NCIS, if I did, I would most definitely have a role!
"I hate you Anthony DiNozzo! Every part of you!" Bang!
Ziva's door slammed right in his face. He chuckled slightly to himself. Every Friday night, he would go around there, with some movies and lots of chocolate, and they would sit there, and talk, and stare, and listen and just be there. In the moment. While it would last. And then, he would begin rambling, and she would be pissed, so very pissed, and kick him out, vowing that he will never step foot in her house again.
And then Monday would come round, and she would sit at her desk, waiting for the only man who ever truly had her heart to walk out of the elevator and make the day worth living.
"Zee-vah. And how are we today?" He would ask, the cocky expression plastered on his face. Some days she would just want to slap that arrogant smile right off his smug, annoying, irresistible face, but today, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him and never let go.
"Well, I was good, but then you decided to come to work." She quickly replied. He knew she was just kidding round. Everybody knew it. McGee, passing on every little bit of information on to Abby, then Abby telling Ducky, them both gossiping about the two lovers. Even Gibbs knew it, knew that since Ziva first walked into the squad room so many years before that she had successfully managed to capture Tony's heart. And she would always be Tony's Ziva. No matter what.
At the crime scene, they play around, mess about, laugh and absorb each other's company. The roll of film would rarely have photos of the crime scene if Tony and Ziva were in charge of the camera. Which they usually were. It would always have Ziva, smiling, laughing, frowning, yelling and loving the man behind the lense.
Whenever a man would check Ziva out, Tony's arm would somehow manage to find its way around her waist. And she never shrugged it off.
***
"Hey, Zi, watcha up to tonight? It's Tuesday, so there won't be any good movies on, did you wanna rent one with me? We haven't seen Rambo in a little while." Tony's green eyes stared at her from across the small gap that separated them. Of course, Ziva would agree, seeming reluctant, but she really wanted nothing more than to be with him.
He would drag her up to the roof top of his apartment, her favourite foods waiting for them, her favourite love song on a continuous loop. Crazier would go on and on and on. And then the heavens opened up, and, in the pouring rain, Tony kissed Ziva for what seemed an eternity, but it was also entirely too short. In that kiss, he promised that he loved her, cherished every moment with her, needed her. She promised that she was forever his, only his, till the day they died.
And so, come Wednesday, they would stroll into the squad room, hand in hand. Gibbs said nothing but sent an email round to everybody in the building, with one word. Hallelujah. And then they continued on their day, acting as if nothing were different.
Thursday came round, and Ziva awoke in Tony's room, and wandered into his kitchen in his OSU sweat shirt. He pulls her in close, whispering that the shirt looks good on her, but he would much rather see it on the floor. She chuckles seductively, letting him know that there is Thursday night to come round yet.
And Friday night, when he comes round to her apartment, she yells and kicks and screams words at him that should not be written down. And he yells back, and paces, and takes all the curses, waiting for the ever so familiar words to be uttered in a whisper that was full of love.
"I hate you Anthony DiNozzo. Every part of you."