I'm very tired right now, so if I don't make any sense, that's the reason.
This following piece of writing is random. I don't know where it came from, must've been a special delivery or something. Anyway, I don't really know what to do with it, the ending's pretty weird and sudden and I'll probably try to improve it tomorrow and your ideas are really very welcome :)
Also, I must confess that even though I'm 16, I have never been drunk* (16 is the legal Age for drinking alcohol in Austria) so technically I just made random stuff up.
- *even though people say I act like it every day :P
Uh, yeah, so...I don't own Tiva, I gues you all know how much that sucks.
Someone knocks at his door with perfect timing to interrupt the best scene of the movie he's watching. Surprisingly it doesn't bother him that much. He's seen the movie about thirty times already, anyway. With a sigh he puts the beer he's been nursing for the past one and a half hours away and gets up, annoyed when his back is stiff from sitting after merely one movie.
He unlocks his door and opens it halfway to see who wants to visit Casa DiNozzo at this time of the night.
To his surprise he finds a very flushed Ziva in a very short dress grinning up at him.
"Toneeee!" she calls out happily, throwing her arms up in a way so uncharacteristic for her that he just stares for a moment.
"Uh, hey, Zi," he finally chokes out. She takes a wobbly step forward and pushes past him into his apartment, throwing her purse in a corner and dropping down on his couch. He shuts his door and turns, raising an eyebrow. "Ziva David, are you drunk?"
"Abby an' I went out for drinks," she explains in a slurry voice. "And it was fun!" she adds before letting herself fall backwards into his sofa cushions with a fit of giggles. He chuckles. In all those years that they've been friends, he's never seen her this wasted. Of course her turning up at his doorstep in this state, leaving him to take care of her, is only fair, as it has happened a couple of times the other way around.
Suddenly she sits up again and looks around the room with a frown until her eyes find his mostly undisturbed beer bottle. She grabs it and takes a gulp, grimacing when she notices it's warm.
"D'you have anything stronger?" she asks with an almost angelic smile.
"I do," he tells her and smiles when she claps her hands, "but I won't give it to you."
Immediately her expression darkens. "Oh, I may be drunk," she says gravely, "but I can still kill you…y'know why?"
He decides to play along. Drunken Ziva is definitely fun to watch. "Why?"
"Because, Tonee, I am a Ninja!" She laughs, burying her face in a cushion.
"Of course you are, Zi," he says, approaching her, "Now let's get you out of these shoes. They look painful."
He kneels down next to the couch that is completely occupied by his partner and pulls off one of her high-heels. She moans softly when both her feet are freed of those death-traps they call shoes.
"Thanks," she whispers and turns from her belly on her back so she can look at him. They stare at each other for a moment until she moves to his end of the couch, motioning for him to come closer as well. He just gives her a skeptical look. "I need to tell you a secret," she says a bit too loudly for a whisper and slides closer still, almost falling off the couch. Luckily he catches her and sits her up again, taking a seat next to her, just to be sure.
"Well, what's the secret?" he asks lightly, already noticing her eyelids droop. It won't be long until she'll fall asleep. She giggles again in that uncharacteristic manner of hers and suddenly her lips are at his ear.
"I had a dream about you last night," she whispers and her breath tickles his ear.
"Tell me mo-"
"Shhh," she interrupts, putting a finger to his lips. "And I realized…that I am still not over you."
That gets his attention and his eyes widen. Of course Ziva doesn't mean that. She looks like she's drunk more than a sailor on shore leave.
Her finger moves from his lips to caress his cheek and before he can comprehend what's happening she pulls him into a kiss and although he knows it's wrong, he kisses her back. Because it's Ziva who's kissing him, it's Ziva who's running her hands all over his body and dammit it's Ziva who pulls him down on top of her.
He tastes the alcohol on her tongue and finally comes to his senses again, pulling back and getting up to put some distance between them. He's breathing hard as he re-buttons his shirt, avoiding to look at Ziva in her oh so short little piece of fabric that barely counts as dress, but turns to her when she's again laughing like…well, like a drunk person.
"You," she says, pointing an accusing finger, when the laughing fit is over, "Toney DiNozzo, are saying 'no' to sex?"
He chuckles once as he nods. "You would regret it in the morning, Zi."
She rolls her eyes. "Oh, how noble of you-" She's interrupted by a yawn and seems to lose focus for a short time, but when she looks at him again she smiles seductively. He curses inwardly at the effect one lingering look of her still has on him.
"C'mon, Tony. It is not that big of a deal. Just… sex. I am sure I would not mind tomorrow," she winks at him.
He squeezes his eyes shut for a second and holds his breath. She is making it really hard for him to stay the responsible friend he intended to be for tonight.
"Well, Ziva, maybe you wouldn't mind…but I probably would," he finally says, not daring to look at her. She doesn't say anything, so he continues.
"Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't want you, because I do. God, Ziva, I swear I do. And that's precisely why I can't just have sex with you. With you it couldn't possibly be 'just sex', there would always be feelings involved." He takes a deep breath. "And I am a bit afraid of how deep those feelings go. It's like they're deep-frozen most of the time, but sometimes they start warming up and it's like they've never been frozen at all."
He leans against a wall for support before his final confession.
" Ziva… I can't sleep with you, because I might be in love with you."
There is no answer and he thinks he might have shocked her into silence, wasted or not, but instead he hears soft snoring coming from his couch. He slumps down into a sitting position, back still against the wall and ignores the sharp pain shooting up his spine. He wonders at how his simple refusal of sex could lead to a full-blown confession of love to his partner and best friend and suddenly he's glad that she's fallen asleep during his little speech. Otherwise it might get more embarrassing in the morning than if they had actually slept together.
With a sigh he grabs a blanket from his bedroom and covers her with it before opening the window for a little fresh air. He watches her sleep for some time, a warm ball of affection forming in his stomach while a small part of him secretly hopes that she heard him.
She wants to open her eyes, which shouldn't be that much of an effort, but her whole body screams at her to just keep them closed and lay still. Her head feels like a bowling ball has been dropped on it and she has a hard time remembering what could have caused this. Thinking hurts.
In another weak attempt of moving she manages to lift her hand to her mouth, with the wonderful effect of now having it covered in saliva. She really hopes it is her own.
Very slowly her sense of hearing seems to start working again, because she suddenly cringes at the noise of someone vacuuming upstairs. Wait…upstairs? She lives in the top most apartment…there couldn't be anyone vacuuming the roof, right?
Of course this could mean that she isn't at home…this bed doesn't really feel like her own, does it? Now would be a great time to remember last night.
"Rise and shine," a familiar voice calls from somewhere near. She knows that voice…it has something to do with…home. But she isn't at home, she's sure of that.
"Where am I?" she asks and cringes at how hoarse her own voice is. She needs water.
"Washington, DC, capital of the United States of America," comes the answer.
"Very helpful, Tony," she says, suddenly realizing where she is, because she doesn't know anyone in the world who would give an answer like that without hesitation. It makes her suppress a smile.
"Hey, it did help you."
"True," she says before again trying to open her eyes. This time she's more or less successful, peeking through her lashes into her partner's semi-bright living room. Even the little amount of light feels like needles are being stuck through her eye-balls. And this damn vacuum cleaner is still running, too.
"Make it stoooop!" she whines, covering her head with a cushion to block out the noise.
She doesn't know how much time passes, but eventually the noise does stop. She sighs contently as blessed silence fills the room. Much to her annoyance she is pulled into a sitting position before she can relax completely again.
"You've slept enough. Time to get rid of your headache," Tony says, but something about his voice is different than usual. It holds something… affectionate. And for some reason it makes her feel like she's supposed to blush. She shrugs it off as a random side-effect of her hangover.
"What time is it?" She asks while opening her eyes for the third time, although it's the first time they actually open all the way. Tony sits next to her with a cup of coffee in his hands. She immediately tries to grab it, but his reflexes are for once better than hers and he catches her hand before it can reach the cup.
"Not just yet, Ninja," he says with a soft smile, "First you need to take your medicine."
He nods towards the coffee table and when she follows his gaze she finds a glass of water with some Aspirin next to it. Say what you want, Tony really is a great friend.
She waits for the powder to dissolve while she feels his eyes on her, when she looks at him the expression on his face is odd, to say the least. He looks like he desperately wants to ask something but is afraid of her reaction, "Is something wrong?"
"Do you remember anything from last night?"
She feels more than a bit embarrassed as she shakes her head. "No. Looks like Jack did a good job."
His eyes darken at this statement in a way that she recognizes as jealousy. She's seen him wear that look often enough, "Calm down, Tony. I meant Jack Daniels. It was a joke."
"Oh," he clears his throat and chuckles while looking away, "Good one."
"Why are you being weird?" she asks, narrowing her eyes.
He gets up and starts pacing.
"Why am I being weird? I'm not being weird. You're being weird for suggesting I'm being weird!" with that he storms out of the room, leaving her wondering what the hell happened last night.
He watches her gulp down her Aspirin when he re-enters the room. She's right. He is acting weird. Very much so. But he just envies her for not remembering any of the things they've done or said. It would make everything so easy. Now he has to watch her raise that glass of water to her lips - the very same lips he got to taste only hours before - and live with the bitter truth that she doesn't recall one thing about his whole confession.
He still tries to convince himself that he doesn't feel anything other than friendship when she kisses his cheek to thank him for taking care of her and promises to buy him lunch sometime soon.
When she walks out of his apartment, wearing her Mona Lisa smile he's already sure that a thin layer of ice is already building around his feelings for her again, but somehow it feels like the coldest period of his emotional Ice Age is over.
Now an important question for you: Should I leave it at this or do the clichè of a Happy End?
Just keep in mind that IF you want me to continue, it will take a lot of time for an update, because my priority right now is my other multi-chap fic.
Thanks for reading, as always. :)