Summary: Episode Tag to Shiva; After Ziva's departure for Israel, Tony assesses his feelings for her. When she comes back, he makes it his mission to let her know how he feels.
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Romance
Characters: Tony, Ziva
Notes/Disclaimer: Episode Tag: Shiva. LONG one shot, written for the "How Did That Happen?" Challenge.
The plane had taken off over an hour ago, but Tony found himself standing by the gate, staring at where it had been. He wished he could have gone with her. He didn't want her to go through that pain alone. She'd insisted she needed time alone, and he'd respected her wishes.
Taking one last look at the runway, Tony turned and made his way back to the car. Gibbs would be expecting him back at the Navy Yard. As he slid into the driver's seat, he picked up the scent of Ziva's perfume. It was a floral scent, one that he'd never suspect her of wearing. When he first met her six years ago, he'd never thought of her as the type of woman to wear perfume, let alone a floral one.
Tony's mind was hardly on the road as he left the airport and got back on the Beltway. Gibbs was expecting him back at the Yard. Ziva's perfume still assailed his senses. He decided he would enjoy this little piece of her as long as possible. He wasn't sure when his entire train of thought was centered on her.
Before he knew it, he was at his exit, and got off the Beltway, heading for the yard. He'd been so lost in thought that he'd almost forgotten he was driving. Shaking it off, he continued on toward the Yard, intent on pushing Ziva to the back of his mind, for the time being.
~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~
It was nearly midnight before he, McGee and Gibbs forced themselves to go home. The shooter was long gone. Even Gibbs had decided that finding the guy was a futile effort. Tony was shuffling through his desk, delaying his departure, when Tim stopped in front of his desk.
"You feel like getting a drink?"
Tony was startled by his friend's voice, but only just.
"Sure." He looked over at Gibbs. "Boss, drink?"
"You two go ahead. I'll be fine."
"Right."
They went to the Thirsty Turtle, a bar not far from the Yard. Tony ordered a double scotch, and Tim got himself a glass of red wine. They sat at a small table near the bar, and drank in silence. Tony's mind began to wander again… back to Ziva. They'd grown closer recently… he felt like he could tell her anything. When did that start? He thought to himself.
"Tony?" Tim was snapping his fingers in front of his friend's face. Tony came out of his trance. Tim was staring at him with a strange look on his face.
"What's the matter?" Tony asked, honestly perplexed.
"I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes."
"Really?"
"Yeah. You okay?"
"Define okay, Probie."
"Point taken." Tim set down his empty wine glass and got up. "Do you want to call it a night? You seem more distracted than usual."
"What? No, we can stay. I'm fine."
Tim sighed and sat back down.
"All right."
Tim watched his partner as he sipped his scotch. It wasn't just recent events that were clouding Tony's mind. He was thinking of something—or someone—else.
"You want to talk about what's bothering you?" Tim finally asked as he signaled for a waitress. He ordered two scotches, then turned back to his friend. "So?"
"I really don't want to talk about it," Tony said, downing the rest of the scotch in his glass.
"What happened was—"
"No reasoning you can come up with will make me feel better about what happened at that house, so just shut up."
Tim sat in silence until the drinks came. He slid one across the table to Tony.
"Thanks, Probie."
"You're welcome."
His mind wandered to Ziva again as he drank. They'd come here after work a few times, to talk over drinks. They'd shared so many conversations, he felt as if he'd known Ziva all of his life. He wasn't sure why he was so ready right that second to be with her. It was the worst possible time. He noticed Tim staring again.
"What are you staring at?" he asked abrasively.
"You're thinking about Ziva, aren't you?" he asked.
"Yeah…"
He couldn't say anything else. He wasn't sure what to say. He finished his drink with Tim in silence, and they went home.
~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~
Two Months Later…
The squad room was quiet, too quiet for Tony's liking. The MCRT hadn't had a case in the last couple of weeks. Ziva had been back for some time, but she'd been withdrawn and quiet as of late. It worried him. He missed the usual banter between him and his favorite assassin. At this moment, she was quietly typing up a report, seeming to ignore the world around her. He decided at that moment that his new mission was to make Ziva genuinely smile again.
A headslap brought him out of his musings. Gibbs was glaring at him.
Where does he come from? Tony thought as he turned his attention to the open report on his computer. His new mission would have to wait until later.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Gibbs let them go early that evening. Tony approached Ziva as she gathered her things.
"Would you like to have dinner?"
"No thank you, Tony. I am not hungry."
"You haven't eaten all day."
He smirked internally when she didn't offer a reply. He had her.
"All right, we can go to dinner," she said, pulling on her coat. "Do you have any place in mind?"
"Not particularly."
"In that case, are you opposed to having takeout? I do not feel much like sitting in a restaurant."
"Sure. Let's go." He walked with her to the elevator. As the doors slid closed, he caught an approving glance from Gibbs.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tony brought Chinese food to Ziva's apartment, at her request. She brought plates in from the kitchen, and they divvied up the food. There was an awkward silence as they ate. Tony was the one to finally break it.
"How was your trip to Israel?" he asked.
"As it would be expected."
"You're been quiet lately," he said, putting himself out on the proverbial limb. "It's concerning."
Ziva got up and started to clean up the mess of food cartons.
"Thank you for your concern, but I am fine, really."
"You're worse at lying than McGee," Tony commented, following her into the kitchen with the empty plates. She snatched them and practically threw them into the sink. Tony backed up a few steps, in case the next object she decided to throw was at his head.
"I appreciate your—"
"If you say that you appreciate my concern one more time, I swear—"
He was cut off by Ziva's hand connecting with his cheek. He staggered backward at the contact. He stood there in shock for a few moments.
"Ziva… I…" he was cut off by another unexpected gesture… but it wasn't a slap. Ziva closed the space between them and connected her lips with his in a passionate kiss. Tony was taken off guard. He let it happen for a moment, and pushed her back as he came to his senses.
"Ziva, what are you doing?" he asked, perplexed.
"Do you not want this?" she asked, draping her arms over his shoulders. He did not remove them.
"Not like this. You're vulnerable right now. You just lost your father. Doing anything now wouldn't be right."
"I assure you, I want to do this for the right reasons. I wouldn't have kissed you otherwise."
"You're absolutely sure?" he asked, a small smile forming.
Ziva put her hand on the back of his neck, and pulled him in for another kiss, this one filled with more passion than the first. Tony let his hands roam her back. They parted briefly, and Tony looked into her eyes.
She's definitely sure.
He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony let his eyes flutter open as the sun peeked through the blinds. Ziva was asleep next to him, her arm draped across his chest. He could feel her breath on his neck as she slept. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been with a woman, and stayed the entire night. This time, he felt as if this is where he was supposed to be, and he liked it.
He felt Ziva shift in his arms, and she turned over, looking at him with big brown eyes.
"Good Morning," she said, stealing a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, taking in the feeling of her bare skin, and pulled her into a more passionate kiss. They didn't get much farther than that, as Tony's phone started to vibrate on the night stand. She rolled over, annoyed, and he reached for it.
"DiNozzo."
"You're late."
Tony looked at the digital clock by the bed. It was after nine in the morning.
"I forgot to set the alarm—"
"I don't want to hear your excuses. Just get your asses here."
Tony froze for a moment. Should he have been shocked that Gibbs knew?
"Boss?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.
"I'm not an idiot, DiNozzo. Just get a move on."
"Leaving now, Boss." Tony hung up and threw the covers off him. Ziva looked at him inquisitively. "We're late," he said simply.
"Yes, and?"
"And, we should probably go to work, before Gibbs comes looking for us."
"That is true. How did he know?"
"I think he's known for a while."
"At least we don't have to sneak around," she said. She pulled him in for another kiss. He gave in and wrapped his arms around her.
Gibbs is going to kill us anyway, he thought. Might as well make it worth it.
Having Ziva in his arms was definitely worth it.
END
