Hey guys, just needed a little break from my main story, so I decided to do a little oneshot here. Mostly because I was watching the football game and thought, "Yeah, I could do something with this." Then...I did something with it. So, here it is.
I don't own it. Wanna see my student loans that prove it?
Tony ran his hands through his short hair and smiled as he stared at the massive screen on the wall at sports bar. He felt his compatriots grabbing his shoulders and shaking him, bumping one another, clanking their beer bottles together. Honestly, he had not been able to hear anything since they dumped the Gatorade on Urban Meyer's back.
He turned to thump one of his buddies on the back and said, well, his mouth formed the words, "And the kid's only a sophomore," but he could not be sure if any sound came out.
Another celebratory group from across the bar shouted out, "O-H!" To which Tony's group responded, "I-O!"
One of the guys called for another round and how could Tony refuse? The Buckeyes had just won the national championship. That round led to another, which led to another, which led to tequila shots, which led to Tony calling a cab and being surprised that he remembered his own address.
He stumbled up to his apartment and, after three attempts, finally found the hole with his key. His eyes were closed and he hung up his coat, going about his business on rote memory. It suddenly occurred to him that there was more light than there should be.
"Did I leave a light on?" he mumbled, fumbling for a switch.
"No, that would be my doing," came a voice from the other side of his eyelids. He recognized that voice, but it was not supposed to be here. It had been more than a year since he last heard it and it was on the other side of the world. What was it doing here? How did it get here?
"How did you get in here?" he asked, genuinely concerned for his safety. What if he had been hit over the head by an intruder and was only imagining her voice?
She laughed, "I picked the lock, obviously. It was quite simple."
He slowly opened her eyes and saw the woman standing before him, "How drunk am I?"
The woman wrinkled her nose in disgust, "Judging from the way you smell, very."
"I must be," he said, "Because you can't be here."
"Why can't I?" she asked, taking a step toward him.
He was frozen, mesmerized. "Because I thought you were never coming back."
"Well," she spoke softly, "here I am."
Tony reached out to put a hand on her hip, pulling her closer to him, "I see that. But why? And how long?"
"I have been here for several hours. I assumed you would be coming back here after work, so I let myself in to wait on you. Then, when you did not show up, I helped myself to the best movie collection in the city," she said, motioning toward the television.
"Yeah, I was at the bar. Ohio State was in the National Championship for football," he motioned to the scarlet t-shirt he was wearing, branded with a large, block letter 'O'. "We won, so...we may have celebrated...just a little," he said, holding his hand up with his thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart.
"That explains the smell," she teased.
"I got tequila spilled on my jeans," he said, trying to explain away some of the strong odor, "but I also drank some, so…"
She smiled at him and without any warning, threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly. He wrapped his around her petite frame and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent that was so uniquely Ziva.
"I miss you," she whispered, "that is why I am back."
If possible, he held her even tighter, "I've missed you, too."
They pulled apart, but only just so.
After a moment of basking in one another's presence, he asked, "How long are you staying?"
She shook her head, "I'm not sure."
"Forever?" he suggested.
She chuckled, "We shall see."
His face lit up with a smile, "Where are you staying?"
"I had hoped to, perhaps, stay on your couch," she said, shrugging.
Tony shook his head, "No."
"No?" she said, looking completely crestfallen.
"No," he said again, "If you stay here, you're staying where you belong."
Ziva raised her eyebrows, "And where is that?"
He gave her a look that was somewhere between smoldering and terrified, "In my bed...with me."
She smiled and leaned forward against his chest, "Only because you asked so nicely."
Tony laughed.
He was silent for a moment before grabbing her shoulders and holding her in front of him. "This is real, right? You're really here? This isn't some…coma vision or fever dream or drunken delusion, right? You, Ziva David, are here in my apartment right now?"
She smiled wistfully, knowing that his doubts were no one's fault, but her own. Ziva placed a hand on his chest and assured him, "Tony, I am one-hundred percent real. I am really here. And tonight you and I shall sleep together in your tiny bed."
He smirked, "I don't know that I like the emphasis you put on the word 'sleep'."
Ziva gave him a look, "You are too drunk to do anything else tonight."
"Tonight," he said, looking her in the eyes, his sparkling with drunkenness and mischief, "What's tonight when we have our whole lives ahead of us?"
She rolled her eyes and said, "That proves it. You are far too drunk to do anything. Maybe you should just go sit down and see if you can manage to take off your smelly clothes and g-"
He placed a hand on the side of her face, cupping her jaw, and she froze in the middle of a word. "Am I too drunk to do this?" he asked, leaning in to touch his lips to hers in a kiss far more chaste than she ever imagined he could be with a woman.
It was as though a spark of static electricity buzzed between the pair as their lips parted.
"No," she said, barely more than a whisper.
He smirked, obviously pleased that he could silence her with such a simple kiss.
She took advantage of his arrogance and, standing on her tiptoes, delivered a kiss much more passionate than the first. He was obviously taken aback and, in his drunken state, nearly fell backwards.
When they finally broke apart, she was the one wearing a smirk. "Go to bed, Tony," she said, shaking her head.
"Not without you, Sweetcheeks," Tony teased, pulling her behind him.
As he lay in bed, still not entirely sober, Tony sighed contentedly. This day started like any other Monday; nothing too exciting. And now? His Buckeyes were the National Champions and he had the love of his life wrapped up in his arms.
Before falling into a deep and peaceful slumber, Tony remembered having one final thought: Today was a good day.