Title: Not Gone
Author: Tearsofamiko
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I don't think that sexy DiNozzo or gorgeous Gibbs would submit well to being 'owned.' Yeah...I don't think that'd go over well at all...
Spoilers: Cloak
Summary: The feelings weren't gone after all.
A/N: Yeah, another tag to those now (in)famous closet and elevator scenes. ^^ Ah, but I needed some Tiva...BTW, the SecNav is one slimy SOB...grrrr....raise your hand if you agree. Yeah, I thought so.
She could hear her heart thundering in her ears in the sudden darkness, felt it pounding in her finger-tips. She was frozen for a moment, her breath rasping harshly as the adrenaline in the situation sped her body's functions. Furtively, she tried to watch the movements outside, tried to focus on their mission, but she was severely distracted.
"Stop breathing!" she hissed, and immediately the warm breaths against her ear ceased. She glanced at him, half-surprised at his immediate capitulation, but the shadows past the window drew her attention again.
As she watched the window, he shifted slightly, barely moved at all, but it was enough. Enough to completely break her focus, enough to completely capture her attention, enough to make her aware of exactly how close they were and how very appealing the warmth of his body was. She looked back at him, her eyes catching his in the muted glow from the hallway.
The air in their sanctuary thickened, time slowed to a trickle, and every nerve in her body fired to life. He was near enough for the warmth of his body to bleed into hers, washing through her in a sweet tidal wave that threatened to make her weak in the knees. She felt his slow, soft exhale wash across her face as he tried to breathe quietly and it carried a hint of him, a flavor she remembered – that she'd tried so hard to forget! – from their undercover stint as married assassins. As she felt his gaze caress her face, a sort of magnetism seemed to pull her forward, pulled her to him until they were almost touching, until her most secret desire was almost fulfilled.
It might've been, if McGee hadn't signaled in at that moment, breaking the spell. Feeling vague and ever so slightly off-kilter, she ran with him, navigating the corridors with semi-ease as they followed McGee's directions. The sudden alarm sent a new spike of adrenaline shooting through her. They ran faster now, simply trying to evade, but they didn't make it and she felt caged as the soldiers poured in behind them. The raised weapon and Gibbs' admonishment about real bullets triggered her training, threw her into motion as the fight erupted. She saw Tony go down and everything shorted out after that. She didn't remember the rest of the battle, but knew the exact moment darkness claimed her.
When he came to get her later, she was relieved beyond words, but the darkness she saw in his eyes was familiar and scary. She'd thought the pain of Jen and Jeanne's betrayal had dissipated, that time and space had weakened it. But it hadn't gone, was still here and stronger than ever. As they moved to follow Gibbs' commands and work on their case, she felt it grow, felt it change and morph, becoming full-blown anger needing a valve.
She didn't realize how bad it was until they were in the elevator.
As he spewed venom and abused the elevator buttons, she tried to disarm him, tried to diffuse the anger boiling so close to the surface. She tried, threw back at him as much stubbornness and ire as he threw at her, and the personal slam about her instinctive reaction during the war game wasn't entirely unexpected. It still hurt, though, mostly because she'd thought he was seriously injured, had been afraid for him –though she wouldn't admit it. She couldn't even explain it all to him, her voice catching in her throat as the image of his limp form sliding to the ground floated through her mind. She didn't realize until silence fell between them how close they'd moved.
As he stared at her, looked straight into her eyes and almost touched her soul, she saw something shift and felt the energy change in the room. His shuttered, shadowed green eyes lingered on her as he stood for a second, the air in the elevator growing heavier with the emotions they'd unleashed. She felt the same magnetic pull she had earlier, but the tension was different this time – darker, more lethal. She wondered what would be said next, knew it would carry some ethereal weight, might change what they had if the motives behind it were wrong.
"I'm tired of pretending," he said lowly, an exhausted sort of anger lacing his words.
"Me, too," she replied after a second, hoping he meant what she did, as her eyes dropped to his lips. She couldn't help herself, knew it was against all the rules – especially Gibbs' – but she wanted him, wanted to –
"It's dinner theatre for an audience of one," he ground out, the anger sparking in his eyes again as he turned away from her and left the elevator. "When's the curtain go down?"
She watched him go, her mind in an uproar. He was hurting, she knew, hating the lies and double-dealing they were being forced into. She understood that, knew why he felt the way he did. She had hoped, though...
It had been a year since his La Grenouille op went bust and Jeanne walked out of his life. She knew he'd invested so much – too much – into the games he was playing for Jenny, knew he'd been hurt by the ways the matter was dealt with. She knew he hadn't quite trusted Jenny after that, didn't trust Vance because of the power-play he'd made after Jen's funeral. She had hoped, though, that maybe the anger and bitterness, the guilt and sadness had dimmed over time.
This incident, though. . .
She guessed it was the proof she needed, the evidence that irrefutably said those feelings weren't gone. And she knew it was dangerous, that volatile cocktail of seething emotion; that was why she'd tried to move beyond the strange fascination she had with him, why she'd tried to make friends outside of NCIS during her time back in Israel.
It didn't work, though. Her feelings hadn't lessened at all, despite the time away and the friends she'd made. They hadn't lessened, had actually grown stronger.
And she was afraid that, maybe, they wouldn't go away.
'Cause even after all this time and all he'd done, despite all the baggage he still carried and the subtle differences recent events had made, they simply were not gone.
And she didn't think they ever would be.
