Disclaimer: i do not own NCIS or its characters... sadly.
hey guys, my first story :) -Characters are based on Tony and Ziva but remain nameless, so let your imaginations take you where they may ;)
Enjoy..
It was there for less than a second.
Nobody saw it. Except him.
That quick hint of emotion that flashed behind her eyes disappeared as quickly as it came. Once again hidden beneath the cool, calm expression.
No signs that it had even been there.
Except that he saw it. And in that brief second, he had seen the pain, the hurt, and the loss.
It worried him. It wasn't like her, she didn't slip up. She didn't show pain.
But something had changed. Ever since her return, something was different…
The spark was gone…
Seeping,
Spreading,
Staining.
She watched, mesmerised, as the dark pool stretched out over the cold floor.
Couldn't take her eyes away.
It slinked around the cold, lifeless fingers and soaked into the grey material of his shirt
Something had happened while she was gone.
That much, he was sure of.
Something that had affected her so deeply that the pain of it had, for a moment, broken through that hard exterior she carried around her.
His eyes slid to her once again as she tapped away methodically at the keyboard, watched as she tried to pretend that those feelings hadn't happened. It was what she did. She didn't show emotion. Couldn't. To her, it was a sign of weakness. Proof that she couldn't handle her life, her past. So all those feelings; the sadness, the anger, the worry, they all stayed locked up tight inside her mind and only very rarely, in moments like he had just witnessed, was there any evidence that those feelings even existed.
Recently, those moments seemed to happen more and more regularly.
A line of the dark liquid trailed from between his now blue lips.
Her eyes followed its path as it ran down his cheek and dripped into the puddle, now threatening to reach her where she sat, staring at what lay in front of her.
Death.
He couldn't do it anymore, couldn't watch her suffer in silence.
He stood up from his own desk, and walked across to where she sat at hers.
She looked up at him and he watched her hurriedly blink the moisture out of her eyes. She was too slow though, he had seen it. She could deny it as much as she wanted but those were tears, and they scared him.
She flinched away from the gentle hand he put on her shoulder. Unwilling, as always, to let anyone comfort her. Or even to admit she needed comforting.
"Come on," he said softly, "it's time to go home."
After a moment's hesitation, she picked up her bag and allowed him to lead her to the elevator.
She wanted to scream, she couldn't find the voice.
She wanted to cry, she couldn't find the tears.
What she really wanted, was to kill.
Opinions would be loveely, tips and ideas would be great. Remember im new to this so be nice ;)