Summary: As a song plays on the radio, Tony teaches Ziva about what it really means to let loose.
Disclaimer: Um...yea...I don't own NCIS. :(
Spoilers: Reference to 6x10 "Road Kill".
Dedication: Katie, this is for you! You were the one who inspired this fic. :D
Okay, I don't really know when Ziva stopped dancing, but I took some liberties. :) Enjoy, and please review!
-Soph
Being a Little Crazy
As with every other time, the moment she sees the mischievous look come into his eyes she knows she's in for it. Once he sets his mind upon convincing her to do something he becomes relentless; he'll tease, cajole, and push her into doing whatever he wants her to. And while she usually enjoys fighting back tooth and nail, she really doesn't think she's up for whatever he's about to propose this time.
She almost yelps when he leaps off the couch to his feet and swiftly pulls her up with him with a strength that she hadn't known he possesses; she's right about one thing – she hadn't been expecting this. She looks up into his eyes, stunned, her pulse skyrocketing; does he not notice that she's pressed up against his chest right now and that he's got his arms around her?
He steps back so that there's space between them, but takes up her hands in his warm ones. "Dance with me," he says, grinning impishly and tilting his head at the cheerful song that's drifting out of the radio.
She takes a deep breath as her heartbeat attempts to return to normal. "No."
His face falls. "Please?"
"Tony, I do not dance," she replies, trying not to laugh at the comically hopeful expression his eyes hold.
He pauses, surprised. "You don't?"
"Well I do, but not like this."
"Not like what?"
"Like…this. This…dancing to the radio thing. Casual dancing."
He raises his eyebrows. "So you dance seriously?"
She makes a face at his tone. "I perform dance. Well, performed. On the stage. With lights and choreography and carefully selected music."
"That doesn't sound like much fun."
"You and I have very different ideas of fun, Tony."
He grins again and pulls her closer to him, though not quite as close as before. "Come onnn," he drawls. "You know you want to, Zee-vah."
"I do not," she says firmly, although resolution decreases as proximity increases. She has an inkling that if he is to pull her into his arms again, her opposition might give way altogether.
"You can't resist," he whispers before suddenly picking her up and spinning her around in a circle. She tries not to shriek. Really, what is up with him today? When he puts her back on her feet she is somehow in his arms, and she's not entirely sure why her heart is racing. His eyes twinkle in a way that makes her breath catch. "Now wasn't that fun?"
She swallows uneasily. "Not in the least."
"Hmph. That song is ending soon, and I'm going to get you to dance with me before it does."
"Why are you so determined to?" She can't help the laugh that bubbles out of her throat as he randomly decides to dip her.
"Cause I get to hear you laugh," he says as he pulls her back up.
"Tony, we are not even dancing to the music."
"But that's the fun part! It's all about expressing your feelings, Ziva, not the precise movements or the right music or that sorta stuff. It's about letting loose and being a little crazy."
"I do not find that we are being very crazy right now."
"Exactly. And that's why you gotta work with me here. I can't do this alone. Come onnn," he tells her again, this time with a hint of plea.
She rolls her eyes and quirks her hips to one side. "There."
He chuckles. "That's not dancing. This is." He has her pulled flush against him before she can react, and he steps around the room with her in his arms, almost swinging her through the air at times. He collapses tiredly onto the couch as the music ends, still hugging her to him.
Her joyful laughter fills the room. She gasps for air between giggles as she tries to get away from him, but he has his arms tightly around her and doesn't seem inclined to let go of her anytime soon. "Tony," she protests weakly.
"Promise you'll dance with me next time," he replies wickedly.
She nods, squeezing her eyes shut as she holds in the rest of her laughs.
He lets her go and settles her next to him on the couch, turning towards her and studying her like one would a piece of art. "Guess you like dancing after all."
"It was better than I expected," she admits as she calms down.
"See? Dancing's for everyone. There's no 'I do not dance', you just get up and do it. Have a good time."
"Like air guitar?"
"Like air guitar. Speaking of which, I still haven't seen your air guitar impression."
"Not going to happen."
"Hmm. One thing at a time." He gazes quietly at her. "Do you miss dancing onstage?"
"Not a lot. I do not remember much of it; the last time I danced onstage was when I was eight."
"How much of it do you remember?"
"I remember the moves. But I do not remember what it is like to carry them out in front of an audience."
"So why'd you stop?"
"Life. It catches up with you, and then you find yourself too busy to do the things you once enjoyed."
He doesn't reply, concentrating instead on the slow song that's now playing. "Come on." He stands up and gently draws her to her feet this time. "You promised you'll dance again with me, right?"
She nods hesitantly. He pulls her to him and wraps his arms around her waist, and she finds that her own hands move of their own accord to loop themselves around his neck. He rubs her back meditatively.
"I don't want you to forget what you enjoy," he continues. "I can't do all that plié stuff or whatever you did, but I do know how to move with the music. Do you think that will be enough for you?"
She smiles and rests her head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. Somehow, he always makes her feel the most content she's ever been. "Yes, Tony; of course that is enough."
"Good, then." His arms tighten possessively around her. "Dance with me, Ziva David?"
"Just this once?"
"No. Um…for…"
"Okay."
"Really?"
"Every time."