Hey everybody! Here comes another OneShot. It takes place after Broken Arrow (8x7). I hope you like it. Thanks to my beta dedic8ted who corrected it. Please make a review! See you!
Now she sat there waiting. She was not sure if she had done the right thing, but she shifted this idea off. It was not easy, that she knew. The day was almost over, and she thought again about the last two days. She tried to justify her actions, even though she had no reason to do so. It was not that she had done anything wrong or illegal. She had only done her job. And she had succeeded—they finally had the killer. But then she thought again about how she had hurt him—she could see it. In the beginning it was just fun. [It made her really fun, even once to make fun of him. But somehow the fun stopped after a while, and she noticed it was hurting him. She did not want to; it was not her intention—but she had. Sighing, she pulled her legs to her body, laid her head on her knees, and closed her eyes.
Tony had just come back from the airport. He parked his car and sat there for a moment. Briefly he thought about the last two days. There were both positives and negatives—that he had to admit. He had spoken with his father, which mattered to him very much. On the other hand, he couldn't cope with what his father had done. And he couldn't cope with what Ziva had done. The more he thought about it, the worse it became: how she had looked at his father, frank and cordial. She never looked at him like that, and she meant so much to him. Of course, he didn't admit this to his father—but he probably should have, even if it came with consequences. Slowly he opened his door and got out of the car. He climbed the stairs and fumbled with his keys. He had arrived on the floor of his apartment and just as he walked around the corner, he saw someone huddled over, sitting on the floor. Taking a closer look, he recognized the person.
"Ziva? What are you doing here?" he asked, looking at her in surprise.
Her head snapped up, and she got to her feet. "I wanted to see you. And you were not here, so I've been waiting for you."
Tony opened the door and stepped aside to let her in. Ziva smiled slightly, walking past him into his apartment. Tony took her into his living room, and Ziva took a seat on the sofa. Tony disappeared briefly into the kitchen to get something to drink; he steadied himself against the kitchen counter, wondering what to do. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Maybe he should just tell her that she had hurt him. It would probably be the easiest option…but also the hardest. Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed two glasses and a bottle of water, then went back into the living room where Ziva was sitting patiently on the sofa. She looked at him and smiled slightly. Tony put everything down on the table and sat down on the armchair opposite her. He did not quite know how to begin.
"What brings you here, Ziva?" he asked, trying to sound relaxed. Ziva bit her lip, also looking for the right words.
"I do not know. I did not want to spend the evening alone," she said, and she wondered why she was lying.
Somehow her sentence made him angry. It just burst out of him: "What are you thinking? You just come here and act as if nothing's happened. It's not that easy, Ziva! Do you know how I feel? Like a stupid space filler. Now that he's gone, you come back to me. Of course, what else should I expect ..."
He had talked himself into rage and he really didn't want to say these things to her, and yet he had. He looked at her in silence, almost regretting to have done so.
Ziva did not know what to say. She was totally horrified by how Tony thought of her. It took her a moment to catch up and then she said quietly, "Tony ..."
She looked at him, slightly shocked and a little hurt. She knelt before him and carefully she placed a hand on his knee.
"How could you think such a thing? You're not a space filler. That you must believe, okay?" she asked him softly and he nodded slightly. She got up and sat on the armchair. Very slowly, her hand moved to his cheek until finally they touched. Stroking his cheek, Ziva looked gently into his eyes.
"I would rather have been with you. I would have also preferred to go with you to this party, but it was not possible. The best thing for me to do was to get along with your father. I thought that was perhaps not a bad idea."
Tony looked into her eyes and saw that she meant what she said. Relieved, he exhaled and said quietly, "I'm sorry, Zi ..." But Ziva cut him off.
"No, Tony. I'm sorry. You've done nothing wrong. We got along well. I mean, we really got along well. I'm sorry, Tony!" She leaned down to him, a little insecure. Very tenderly and carefully she brushed her lips over his. Tony just kept quiet and closed his eyes. As Ziva broke away from him, he looked into her brown eyes and a small smile crept onto his face. Ziva returned it and let him pull her on his lap. She rested her head gently in the crook of his neck and Tony put a protective arm around her.
"For me you could never be only a space filler. You're much more, Tony. Much more!"