What was he doing here? Why was he doing this? Why was she pushing this?
Those were the thoughts that kept running through Tim's mind as he sat beside Ziva on the piano seat. She was to his left, her fingers expertly placed on the keys. When she pressed down, the instrument emitted a beautiful sound. Her fingers adeptly moved from key to key as she played the chords, never hitting a wrong key.
"That," she said after she had finished, "was a 1-4-1 cadence chord. Now you try."
After a deep breath, Tim too placed his fingers atop the keys, trying to emulate her. When he pressed down, though, the sound they heard was far from beautiful. Moving to the next chord only made it worse.
"I told you, music's just not my thing," Tim groaned.
"McGee! I never knew you to have such a defeatist attitude!" she chided, giving him a playful slap on his shoulder. "This may come as a shock to you, but most people who try to play piano are not perfect the first time. It takes practice and patience."
"Like being an assassin, I assume?" he asked jokingly. "I don't have the patience you have, Ziva. I like just getting it right away."
"I am guessing that in high school you were that annoying student who always learned the material quickly, making everyone else look bad?" His sheepish expression told her that she was correct. "Well, then this will be a good experience for you. "
"Why do I need to learn to play piano anyway? I'm perfectly happy with both of my jobs and have no aspirations to play Carnegie Hall."
"Nor do I," she retorted. "That does not mean I cannot enjoy a hobby."
"I can't imagine myself enjoying this," he muttered as he continued to try striking the keys just as she had. "My fingers are already starting to cramp up. As if my time spent on my computer and typewriter didn't hurt them enough."
"You can be such a baby at times."
After two or three more failed attempts, Tim slapped his fingers down on the keys in frustration. "It's not working," he bemoaned, punctuating every word with a slapping of the keys. "I told you, I'm not musically inclined. I have no rhythm. When I was in third grade I tried to play recorder and everyone made fun of me. Music just isn't my thing."
Ziva leveled him with a withering look. "Timothy McGee! Day in and day out I am forced to use a computer in my job and computers are most certainly 'not my thing.' But still, I do it. Yes, I may slap it now and then and shout obscenities, but I keep at it and learn little by little. Now, if I can do that, you can do this."
"But this isn't necessary to my job! Why bother?"
She sighed. As much as she loved him, Tim could be whiny at times, petulant, some might say. He didn't like to open himself up to new things, even if there was a chance he might enjoy it. And even if he didn't, what had been lost? At the end of the day, they'd spent time together, so what did it matter how they spent that time? "Can't I just say it would make me happy to teach you piano and leave it at that?"
His bottom lip jutted out. He was caught. Either he suck it up and keep trying until carpal tunnel set in, or he walked away, thus disappointing Ziva. While the former didn't sound pleasant, the latter sounded downright horrible. He didn't like disappointing anyone, let alone her.
Once again, he placed his fingers on the keys, checking that they were just as hers were. Then, he pressed down…and it sounded like crap.
"I'm not Beethoven."
"And you think I am?" She stood from her seat and took a new place behind him. "Of course, I can hold my own when it comes to the piano, but I have no intention of entering any competitions in the future." Leaning over, she placed her own hands atop his, resting her chin on his shoulder so that they were cheek to cheek. Her hands were so smooth and Tim could feel her warm breath on his skin.
He could get used to this kind of piano lesson.
"The problem is that you are rushing it. You do not need to play the chords so quickly. Begin slowly and then, once you have gotten into the rhythm of it, pick up the pace."
"You make it sound like it's sex or something."
"Perhaps that is your dirty little mind at work." She made sure her mouth was directly beside his ear when she said it, enjoying as he squirmed beneath her. "Now, let's try this again, only slowly."
Together, they pushed down on the keys, hitting the first chord, then the second one, and then back to the first one. It didn't sound exactly like it had when she had done it, but it sounded much better than when Tim had done it before. Of course, he conceded, that was mostly Ziva's doing. Still, he couldn't help but have a certain sense of pride that he had just played piano.
Ziva was clearly impressed. "Not bad, McGee. Not great, but certainly not bad. Would you try it on your own now?"
He gave her a "do I have to?" look, and she reciprocated with a "yes, you do have to" look, forcing him to heave a heavy sigh and once again place his fingers atop the piano keys, this time without the safe covering of Ziva's. He hit the first chord well, hit the second one less well (his pinky landed on the A flat when it should have been on the A), and returned to the first chord just fine. He let the keys up, a bit shocked that it had sounded as good as it had (save for the second chord screw up).
"See," Ziva said with a satisfied smile, "you do have it in you."
"I appreciate your support and all, but all I've done so far is play a chord."
She retook her seat beside him, turning her legs in toward him. "Yes, but that is more than you could do when we began. You did not expect to play an entire sonata your first time, did you?"
He shrugged. "No, I guess not." He was proud of himself for finally getting that chord—well, almost getting it, at least. "This piano thing is kind of cool."
"Didn't I tell you that? And to think you doubted me."
"I know, I know," he said, "I shouldn't have doubted you. So what can I do to make that up to you?"
After a few seconds of considering the question, Ziva puckered her lips and tapped them with her finger. Not needing to be told twice, Tim leaned in and pressed his lips against hers while his hand snaked around her head, cradling it in his grasp. His fingers were tangled in her hair and he deepened their kiss. Soon, his other arm was wrapped around her, supporting her torso as he leaned her back. Her hands, in the meantime, had gently taken a hold of his face, one situated on each side, cupping his baby-faced cheeks. Her index finger traced along the outline of his ear, ending at the lobe, which she gave a gentle squeeze.
"Wow," Tim softly muttered after they'd pulled apart. His eyes were still closed, his face still resting in Ziva's hands. Now he'd moved his hands from her hair and back to her shoulders which he massaged lovingly. "Was that a punishment or a reward?"
"Perhaps a little of both," Ziva told him with a knowing smile. Slowly—and reluctantly—she removed her hands from his cheeks and disentangled herself from his grasp.
Tim pouted. "That's it? You're just going to leave me hanging like this?"
"If I am sufficiently attractive to you, you should not be 'hanging' at all," she said with a smirk. Tim's face grew red and he looked down.
Ziva turned the page of her piano book and pointed to another cadence chord set. "If you are a good student and learn this, I will give you another reward," she promised, giving him a soft pat on his head.
"Are you bribing me to learn to play piano?"
"That depends: is it working?"
Tim shook his head in amusement as he tried to figure out this new chord. "Yes, Ziva…yes, it is."
AN: Just a fluffy little one-shot that wouldn't leave me alone. Thanks for reading!