This l'il baby was cooked up on a seven-hour car journey. Seriously.
So basically, I wanted to do another reflection-y fic, that looks at Tony and Ziva's relationship over the years, and I was in a nostalgic mood. So here we are. And yes, other things have happened past the last point I put here, but I didn't want to go over-the-top with it and drag it out.
Disclaimer: Would I really be writing this if I owned NCIS? No, I'd be having dinner with Michael Weatherly and making Cote de Pablo get Twitter. Boom.
He never cried. He would tear up occasionally, sob at a flick or two, weep with laughter. But none of that is what he considered to be Crying.
Then she sauntered past, and he was in a heap on the floor, wailing and screaming with tears rushing down his cheeks and a burning in his throat. All because of her.
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When Kate dies, he doesn't cry. At first.
He's emotional, but he forces himself to remain steely and cold-faced rather than face up to the reality. A coward's way out.
Then she turns up and shows him that the world really is still turning, and that Kate really isn't coming back.
The night after it's all settled, he cries properly for the first time. Because of her.
When Gibbs leaves, his eyes remain dry. At first.
The boss says his goodbyes, and he tries to stay calm as a badge is placed in his hand. His friend walks away, and he tries to breathe deeply as he sits down in a chair that isn't his, at a desk that doesn't belong to him.
He refuses to have drinks with his team- yes, it's his team now- and instead retreats to his apartment and nurses a bottle of whiskey whilst coming to terms with his situation.
Then she comes round and asks how he's holding up, and his voice cracks along with his composure. He holds her in his arms that night, as he cries.
When his undercover mission comes crashing down in the ugliest sense, the sobs stay inside. At first.
The Jeanne thing hurts him, more than he'd care to admit. And being trapped in a limo with almost a year's work riding on his actions, is a little scary. But that's not what breaks him in the end.
When he finally sees her after the entire ordeal is over, he realizes a shocking fact. The look on Jeanne's face doesn't tear him apart half as much as her's does.
So when he sits in his apartment, the tears run down his face. Not for the mess he's made, no- for his partner, and the complete mistake he's sewn together in that respect.
When Jenny dies, he doesn't weep. At first.
He blames himself the second it happens, and knows he'll spiral downward from the moment he touches the diamond glass in Autopsy. Still, as he numbs the pain both physically and mentally, he doesn't have the energy to cry.
Only as the toothpick announces his grand plan to ship them all away- ship being the operative word-, does he feel the lump rise in his throat, because she's leaving too, and going somewhere much more dangerous.
She comes to say goodbye as he's packing, and ends up staying the night. It's when he wakes up and realizes it's all going to go away, that he lets the tears flow. And her pulling herself closer only makes it worse.
When he gets back from that damned ship, and realizes she's met someone else, he doesn't cry. At first.
Her eyes are screaming at him but he just can't cope with the fact enough to drink it in. He swears it will all go back to how it used to be, despite knowing it won't. The alcohol barely leaves his bloodstream until she corners him and sees right through his façade, kissing him chastely as a form of punishment.
And then, when he goes home and tosses every bottle he has right into trash, cutting his hands whilst still tasting her lips on his, hot and angry droplets trail to floor in his induced rage.
When she stays in Israel, he keeps the sobs in. At first.
He knows what he did was right, but her clear anguish and vicious hatred towards him, instantly makes him regret doing anything at all. And of course he was jealous, he couldn't help it.
But when he gets no call and it all goes wrong, he has no problem letting it all come out. And he makes sure there's a bottle or two to keep the nightmares at bay.
When they get her back, he remains dry-eyed. At first.
It takes so many weeks to get back into their usual routine- properly, at least- that the disjointed nature of life overrules the impossible sense of what they've really done. And then, in Paris, when they are forced to stay together and made to have the other's back, it all slots neatly into place once more.
Holding her in his arms, like he's done before, brings so many memories crashing back, that joyful tears waterfall from his eyes before he can stop them.
When Gibbs gets captured in Mexico and it's all-too-similar to his situation four years ago, he holds it together. At first.
The pressure is suddenly back and settles itself on him with terrifying ease that he pretends to ignore.
But they get him back and vaguely safe, and he shares a blanket with her on the journey back, so he declares their mission successful. Only upon returning to his apartment to be sent away once more, missing her ceremony, does he decide it wasn't the best of solutions.
When he gets back and sees both he and Gibbs left her, he kicks himself and screams with angry tears welling.
And now, after so many more errors and problems and tears, he thinks he's run dry. And he's cried the most he's ever done in the years since meeting her, than he had in all his life before.
Even as he holds her in his arms regularly, her skin the only barrier between both of them, his eyes well up just a little.
Even as he kisses her often, their fingers intertwined, the situation still takes his breath away and the tears start to build.
Even as they lie together, legs tangled and air mingling, he'll want to let something out because it's so very incredible.
He doesn't like to think he's weak, or view himself as a wimp.
But God, she doesn't half make him cry.
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