Title: Four Misses and A Hit
Author: dizzy - in - the - izzy
Rating: Uhm... T just to be on the safe side heh.
Summary: Tim's supposed to be the writer, the one with all the words. So how come he keeps coming up short?
A/N: I seem to be a little bit deeper into this Tim/Ziva loving than I first said. I wrote this over the weekend, while I was dodging any thing that required physical work and battled a little stomach bug that decided I had to throw up. Bleh. But, I like this a lot, and it's long and lovely to me. It took me a while to fit together, but I don't care.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed and commented on my other Tim/Ziva fic. :)
Part I: "Friends."
Tim McGee pulled up to the Navy Yard, slowing down his speed to stop at the gate. Once through, he found his parking spot. He smiled when he realized he'd ended up parking right next to Ziva, and she wasn't yet out of her car. Her fingers were running through her hair, pulling it every which way. After watching a moment, he noticed that she was braiding it down her back, and he somewhat became entranced by her fingers movements. Shaking his head, he grabbed his pack and got out of the car. She looked up when his door shut, and smiled at him. She quickly ended her braid, wrapped a hair tie around the end, and exited the car. She bounded up next to him, her coat over her arm and a smile on her face.
"Good morning McGee," she said, pulling her pack onto her shoulder. He smiled back.
"Morning Ziva. Get up late?" he asked, motioning to her hair. She shook her head as they walked, reaching up to touch the braid.
"No, I was just tired of it being in my face," she answered as they made their way across the parking lot. He looked at her again, looking at the tightness of her braid. He'd seen his sister braid her hair before, mainly to sleep with.
"You're already annoyed with your hair this early?" he asked, and she nodded.
"Hair can annoy you at any time during the day," she stated, as though it was common knowledge. Tim ran a hand through his hair, the little that was there. He'd opted to keeping it short lately, but not extremely short. Ziva saw the action, and smirked.
"Does your hair bug you?" she said sarcastically, and he laughed. They entered the elevator, and he gave her a look.
"Yes, my hair bugs me all the time. I have to keep it out of my face, and it doesn't want to work with me," he said, and Ziva broke into laughter. Her face had the appearance of being basked in the sun, as happiness radiated through her skin. Tim smiled. A happy Ziva meant a happy everyone.
"I did not realize I was in the presence of a jokester," she said through her laughter. She gave him another smile, and then seemed to smile more to herself. As they exited the elevator, Tim felt a sense of pride. For the past week, he'd made it his mission to make Ziva laugh first thing in the morning. And so far, he'd succeeded. It didn't go unnoticed by Tony, who was looked as confused as ever as his partners walked in the bullpen. At first, Tony had tried to inquire about what was so funny. But it ended up becoming an inside joke, and only made Ziva laugh more.
"There's never a dull day with you, is there?" Tony said as he slipped from the bullpen, heading towards the bathroom. Ziva looked up, somewhat confused, before looking at Tim.
"Was he speaking to me?" she asked, and he nodded. She shrugged her shoulders, pulling a water bottle out of her bag. He was in the midst of checking his e-mails, something he'd been neglecting to do at home. He was reading one from a friend when he realized that Ziva was in front of his desk. He looked up, offering her a smile.
"Yes?" he asked, and she bent forward to rest her hands on his desk. He kept his eyes up, realizing he could look down her shirt at this angle.
"I was wondering," she shifted her weight, "what you are up too."
He frowned a bit, confused as to the subject of which she spoke. She read his confusion with ease, and continued.
"Not that I mind, but every morning you seem to go out of your way to joke and enjoy a laugh," he thought he gave no reaction but she was better than he was, "and I wanted to know what you are up too. You have Tony all in a flurry."
Tim thought for a moment.
"You mean a tizzy?"
"Does that mean he's all mixed up and confused?"
"Then yes, you mean tizzy," he said, and she made a mental note. It seemed to get her off course for a couple seconds, before she remembered her original purpose. She gave him a look, which he was able to read, and he simply smiled. She narrowed her eyes, he smiled a little bit wider, and she couldn't help it. She smiled as well.
"You are a good friend McGee," she said, and he felt a little bit of the feeling behind his smile fade. She bent forward and kissed his cheek (something he didn't expect and made the feeling behind the smile return just a little bit brighter) before she moved back over to her desk. He didn't have to return the sentiment, as she'd most likely read his face.
He just hoped she didn't read too far into it, as then he had a problem.
Whether his motives were purely platonic or something else (something he was still struggling with, as he'd always had a problem with relationships and attachment) were still up for debate, but for the time being, he'd keep in his mind how close he was (yet again) to asking. Though this time he'd had more gumption, and he could have slipped it in.
Ziva: one. Tim: zilch.
Whether she knew it or not, the game that had begun was going to be his. He'd get those words out. It would come to him, eventually.
Part II: Drinks.
Tim felt a hand go around his waist, and he was suddenly pulled through the bar. He'd been up at the counter, waiting for that bottle of water that not only he, but the rest of the team could benefit from, but now he was in the thick of the crowd. He didn't have to look down to know who'd grabbed him, as it was easy to figure out just by height and gender. It obviously wasn't Tony (who would most likely just grab Tim by the collar and pull him roughly) and it couldn't be Abby (who was as tall as he was, and would be talking animatedly into his ear). No, this wasn't either of them, and it wasn't Gibbs or Palmer. He smiled as she poked his middle, and kept herself close to his back.
"What do you think you are doing, going to get water at a bar?" she said into his ear over the noise, though she sounded like she was barely whispering. He focused on her voice, drowning everything else out.
"I told you, I'm cutting down on the alcohol," he said, feeling like he'd gone over this with everyone enough. It took more than exercise and some celery sticks to keep weight off. Alcohol was something else he'd given up.
"Come on Timmy," her inhibitions had obviously left her, "you need to have on beer. It's Friday! We have reasons to celebrate."
He couldn't help the smile that hit his face. There was something about her attitude at the moment that lightened him slightly. He knew part of it was the alcohol, but he knew a part of her was just that happy.
She put her other arm around to his front, and offered him her drink. He wasn't sure whether or not he should take the bottle, but when she shook it somewhat impatiently, he took it from her hand. She kept her arm around his body as she moved to his side, slipping under his arm. He let his arm lay on her shoulder, hooking it somewhat to keep her close. The people moving around the floor jostled them, but she stayed attached to his side.
"Come on, drink up," there was a glint in her eye he didn't miss, and he took a quick drink. It seemed to satisfy her, and she took the beer back from his hand with ease. She then pulled him the remainder of the way to their table, all the while keeping her arm around his waist.
It didn't take long for them all to enjoy their Friday evening, the bar and the music allowing them some laughter and attitude that usually never entered the office. Before too long, Abby was carefully helping Tony away from some college girls, and towards the door. She hadn't drank too much, not nearly as much as Tony.
"I'm going to take him home, and then go home myself," she said to the remainder of her team (which consisted of Tim, Ziva and Jimmy) as she made her way towards the door. They each wished her luck before looking at each other carefully. Palmer fidgeted, and Tim caught the movement.
"Need to get home to Breena, Jim?" he said, and Palmer looked almost relieved to have someone say it aloud. He quickly extricated himself from the table, wishing them a safe trip home. Tim looked at Ziva, who was still by his side. After her first (and only beer, which she shared with Tim) she had stuck there, and they'd enjoyed a quiet conversation all evening. Now, it seemed, was the point in which their conversation ended.
"We are having far too much fun to drive home," she said, a smirk on her face. He caught on to what she was saying quickly. He carefully got up from his chair, slipping his jacket over his shoulders before offering her his arm and heading towards the door. They'd left all of their things in the cars, which made walking all the easier. It wasn't too far to her apartment, which wasn't far from his.
"You sure had a fun time tonight," Tim said as they walked, already a block from the bar. She didn't move her head from his arm, both of her arms around his one.
"Friday night in a bar should be fun, yes? It's an American thing," she said, and he nodded slowly. She turned her head to look at him, and he smiled at her. She looked cozy on his shoulder, her face and hair stuck to his jacket. That was when he realized she'd left her jacket in her car, and her shirt wasn't going to keep her warm the whole walk home.
"You left your jacket in your car," he said as they stopped at a crosswalk and waited their turn. "Aren't you going to be cold?"
She gave him a look, one of her hands squeezing his arm.
"I have you here, do I not?" she said, almost winking at him. He just shook his head, slipping his arm from her grasp to slip off his jacket. She looked like she was going to refuse it, but he could see the cold on her face and arms. He slipped it over her shoulders, zipping it up for her. She smiled at him a moment before putting her arms through the sleeves and wrapping her arms around his again. They continued on their walk, Tim ignoring the cold that nipped at his neck.
"How long have you been without alcohol?" she asked suddenly, her voice returning to something close to her work voice. She wasn't as jumping and joyful as she had been in the bar, and it seemed the cold had hit her hard.
"Well, a while now. Since I started eating healthier," he answered, relishing the warmth her body offered. He fought the urge to shiver in the cold night air, and she seemed to notice. In an act he didn't expect, she let go of his arm, placed it over her shoulders, and wrapped her arm around his waist again. He gripped her shoulders, keeping her right next to him. His body suddenly felt warmer.
"I am proud of you then, if it is something you willingly gave up," she said against his shirt, her breath fanning over the fabric and just barely touching his skin. His breath caught in his throat. They turned down a street, and he almost frowned as they came to her building. He didn't let go of her shoulders, deciding to walk her all the way to her door. If she was going to play, he was going to play.
"Do you want your jacket back, for the walk to your apartment?" she asked as they walked inside and towards the stairs. He kept his arm around her shoulder as they walked up the stairs, making the process slow going. He thought about saying no, but remembering the cold air nipping at his neck, he knew he had to say yes. They reached her floor before he could say yes, and she led him to her door.
"I think I do, actually," he said finally, and she smiled up at him. She untangled herself from him, reaching up to her neck to undo the zipper. Tim took a moment to actually look at her in his jacket, and he had an urge to lean forward and kiss her. He stayed where he was though, watching her hands unzip his jacket. It was then he realized she was taking longer than needed, and once again, she was onto him. He met her eyes, and he found they were playful and full of an emotion he didn't dare put a name too.
He smiled at her, his ears slightly burning. He wanted to make a witty comment, but it didn't come to mind. He was at her mercy for the time being, waiting for his jacket and her final word.
She ended it finally by unzipping it fully, and then sliding it off her shoulders. All of the warmth the jacket held from her body radiated towards him, and he fought the urge to shiver.
"Thank you, Tim, for the jacket and the walk. They were both lovely," she said as she handed him the jacket, which he slipped over his shoulders quickly. The cold was beginning to settle into his skin.
"You are welcome, Ziva," he said, and as a last minute thought, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Before she could respond, he was headed towards the stairs. When he took a quick glance backwards, he saw the smile that was on her face. But it still stood.
Ziva: two. Tim: nada.
If it took him all his willpower, he was going to even the score.
Part III: Chocolate.
They stood in the coffee shop, right next to each other in line. She was turned towards him, her jacket touching his arm as they stood waiting. They were quiet for the time being, their silence comfortable and almost welcome. Tony hadn't stopped talking since he'd walked in to work (late, albeit) and so they'd taken an opportunity and slipped out of the office to get coffee (which Tony forgot). They'd decided to walk (again, and despite the stifled laughter from Ziva) and now they stood, right next to each other in the bustling shop. There were people all around them, pushing and shoving as they grabbed coffee and pastries. Ziva was eyeing the rack of goodies, her mind off in space. Tim watched her face closely, bracing himself as someone pushed into him. It seemed to bring Ziva back to reality, because she brought her hand up to his chest as if to steady him. He smirked at her as he balanced himself. She simply narrowed her eyes back, before going back to looking at the treats. He moved towards her a tad, getting himself out of the way of a group of executives in suits.
They finally were able to move up to order, and he did all the talking. She was still looking off into the distance, and he followed her eyes before he finished the order.
"Did you want something else?" he asked, and she snapped to look up at him. She nodded, pointing over to the goodies.
"Yes, actually, I'd like one of those," she said, pointing to what looked like brownies. Tim swallowed carefully, and the cashier went over to grab one. After he paid and they had walked over to wait, Tim watched with careful breath as Ziva pulled the fudgy brownie apart. She didn't look up at him as she maneuvered the shops bag around the treat.
It took a moment for him to realize he was starring, and he looked away. She noticed out of the corner of her eye, and she moved closer to him as the shop became even more crowded. He started to curse Tony in his mind. If only he'd gotten the coffee…
Ziva's breath fanned out across his skin, and Tim looked down. She was looking up at him, offering him a piece of the brownie. He was going to take it in his own hand, but then an idea struck him. He opened his mouth, sticking out his tongue for a moment. She looked odd at first, and then she just smiled. She reached up and put the piece of brownie in his mouth, and he shut his mouth on her fingers. She nearly jumped at his action, and he smiled as he pulled his head back away from her fingers. He noticed the way she was looking down at her brownie, and he almost blurted it out. But then he remembered that his mouth was full of fudgy chocolate. Someone tried to scoot behind them, and he wrapped his arm around her to pull her forward. She willingly went with him, allowing his arm to guide her. Her eyes were roaming the shop, almost impatiently. She looked down at the brownie one last time, before shoving the rest of it in her mouth. He laughed shortly, and she smiled up at him. He could see the chocolate through her white teeth, and he smiled back at her.
He looked up towards the baristas. They were hurrying, calling out names like lightening. As he unfocused on the counter, his eyes came to meet with an older women in front of him. She was smiling at him, or rather him and Ziva, and he could read what she was thinking just by the look on her face. "You two look very happy together." Tim smiled at her, before looking back down at Ziva. She'd poked him softly, and she was holding her phone to her ear. She mouthed "Gibbs" and "hurry up" to him before shutting the phone, and he nodded.
She was about to settle herself back against him when their order was called and Tim swallowed the knot in his throat.
Ziva: three. Tim: zip. Old lady: one.
As Tim held the coffee's in their tray, and Ziva drank her tea that he'd order to perfection, he decided that lady owed him.
Part IV: Park.
Ziva sat on the bench, her eyes following the kids playing in the park. She was waiting for Tim to arrive, though she hadn't been waiting long. She had come a little early, because it was her favorite park. The grass was green and kids were always running around. Usually, one or two dogs came over and greeted her. She smiled at a jogger that passed by, and relaxed into the wood. She loved this park. It was her favorite place to go on a sunny day, as it was today. And she was glad that Tim could meet up with her. She'd been in her apartment, not enjoying herself, when the idea struck her to call someone, anyone, to go to the park. She had a basket with some food in it, and she'd told Tim what to bring. She hadn't enjoyed picnic in a long time, and today was the perfect day for one.
She jumped as two hands went over her eyes, and she instantly reached up to pull them off. She almost freaked out when the person who was covering her eyes spoke.
"Hey, it's alright," Tim said as he let go of her head, leaning over her shoulder to smile at her. She could see the worry in his eyes, and she smiled back to show that she was okay. He walked around the bench, sitting down next to her. She could still see the worry, lingering in his jaw line, so she moved the topic onto something other than her.
"Did you bring the blanket?" she asked, and his eyes lit up. He pulled the blanket up out of his bag, and she offered him a warm smile.
They moved off the bench and over towards the grass, where a couple families were enjoying picnics. Tim watched Ziva carefully as they walked, still slightly worried about her. He thought she'd react well to him covering her eyes, but he didn't know she'd become… well, scared. She turned to look at him, and he snapped out of his thoughts to listen to her.
"Here?" she said, and he shrugged.
"Wherever you want to set it up, Ziva, is fine by me."
She almost beamed at him, or that may have been the sun. Either way, she laid the blanket out on the ground and they were soon sitting on it. She pulled out containers holding fruit, some vegetables, and brownies. He laughed as she handed him the brownies, a smirk on her face. He pulled out the drinks (a couple waters and some lemonade) and she gladly poured herself some. Tim took the vegetables from her, and they sat back on the blanket and started to eat. Finally, Ziva spoke up.
"I am glad you were not doing anything today. I did not want to sit all alone in my apartment, melting into my couch," she said as she took off her jacket, revealing a green summer top. It hung off her shoulders, and rested right upon her hips. Tim looked back up at her face, seeing that she was busy braiding her hair behind her head again. He smiled. Her hair always looked beautiful in a braid at the back of her head.
"Ahh, well I was just going to spend the day being lazy and possibly clean, but you know. The sunshine and promise of a picnic sounded better," he said, though he was lying through his teeth. He'd planned on cleaning his room, changing the sheets, doing loads and loads of his laundry, and then possibly catching up on his favorite television shows. But, when Ziva had called, somewhat hesitantly and sounding like she expected him to say no, he'd dropped the basket of clothes to find some clean clothes that he'd left in his closet. He had even dug out a short sleeve shirt, just for the occasion.
"That sounds like what my day was destined to be," she said with a laugh, grabbing a carrot from the container he held. She moved over closer to him so her knee was touching his. They sat criss cross, the containers open in front of them.
"I'm just waiting for Gibbs to call with something we have to do," Ziva reached over and pushed his shoulder, holding her finger up to her lips. They both laughed, and Ziva shook her head.
"Do not even speak of it. He will hear you, or something, and suddenly he will have the urge to call," she said between laughs, and they both allowed themselves to laugh a little longer.
"I don't think he can hear us here in the park," Tim said, and she just shook her head. She wasn't going to take any chances. She was going to have her picnic with Tim, whether Gibbs liked it or not.
"Speaking of being in a park, I brought a Frisbee to play with. I am not the best, but I have played a little with some of the kids here," she said, holding up the round disc. Tim smiled, more at the second part of what she said than the first.
"You've played with some of the kids here?" he asked, taking the Frisbee from her. She paused.
"I come here a lot. It is my favorite park, and some of the kids started saying hi to me whenever I am here. I was sitting on a bench and the Frisbee almost hit me, so they invited me into the game," she tried to make it sound nonchalant, but Tim could see she'd enjoyed it. He dropped the disc into her lap, and she smiled at him. He could see the happiness in her face, the relaxed feeling that had fallen over her since they'd sat down.
"Well, do you want to play?" he asked, and she looked at the food. They quickly put the lids on the containers before Ziva nearly dragged Tim to his feet. She was already smiling as she distanced herself from him, standing about twenty-five yards from him. She held the Frisbee in her hand, and he wiggled his torso. She floated the disc over to him, and he caught it with a laugh.
"You didn't tell me you were the expert at this," he said loudly, and she smirked at him. She put her hands on her hips, as if waiting for him to prove he knew how to throw the Frisbee, and he grimaced. He was horrible at Frisbee. Nonetheless, he threw the disc to her, and she had to jump to catch it. She floated it again, and it landed in his outstretched hands. He frowned, and she was suddenly in front of him.
"You do not know how to throw a Frisbee, huh?" she said, and he smiled sheepishly as he nodded. She smiled confidently at him before placing the disc in his hand and putting her hand over his.
"It is in the wrist, it does not matter how hard you throw it. All you really need to do is flick your wrist and it should float over to me," she explained, and he flicked his wrist. The disc didn't go straight, but it did float through the air and landed flat on the ground. He turned to smile at Ziva, and she smiled back. She looked about as proud as he did, and the urge again hit him. But she moved away before he could say anything. He watched her jog over to the Frisbee, and he swallowed.
Ziva: four. Tim: nil. And by the time they got done playing, Frisbee: one million.
It was really going to kill him.
Part V: Sundaes.
The sun was beginning to set as Ziva and Tim made their way down the street, walking towards their homes. On a last minute deal, Tim had called Ziva and asked if she wanted to catch a quick dinner. They'd decided to grab some fish and chips at a nearby joint, and they'd spent the majority of the meal talking, squeezed into a corner booth. Now, they walked along the sidewalk, their arms linked. They were so close to holding hands that Tim thought about slipping his fingers through hers and seeing if it stuck, but he stayed where they were.
They stopped at the intersection, waiting for the light to change. Ziva let her head fall onto Tim's shoulder, her eyes shutting in relaxation. He smiled down at her, glad she was in a good mood. He'd called her as he drove home, worried. She'd gone home early, saying she didn't feel good. When he parked at her building and got out to meet her, she'd confided that she just really needed to get out and had sent her report to Gibbs via e-mail. With a smile, she'd hugged him and then they'd embarked. Now, she was calm and relaxed against him.
"Do you want to have some ice cream at my apartment?" she said from her spot on his arm, following him as they moved across the street. He looked down at her, finding her face turned up towards him. She had a lazy smile on her face, and he had a good feeling about tonight.
"Sure," he said and she smiled a whole lot wider.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, enjoying the company of each other. Her head stayed on his shoulder, and he bit his bottom lip. Carefully, he slipped his hand down her arm and onto her hand. He could have been imaging things, but upon looking down, he saw that the squeezing wasn't just on his part. She'd curled her fingers around his as well, and he smiled wide.
They walked easily into Ziva's building, making their way up to her apartment. She dug her key out of her pocket, bringing her head off his shoulder to push the door open. She didn't let go of his hand, though, as they walked into her home. He hadn't been in her house in a while, and smiled as he looked around. There were a couple small messes, but it was fairly clean. She took his coat from him, and then pushed him towards the kitchen. He smiled back at her as she hung up their coats before joining him.
"Do you just keep a stock of ice cream for this occasion?" he asked as she opened her freezer. He smirked at the disarray of boxes that sat there. When he counted, he found that there were five different flavors.
"I like ice cream," she said, and he laughed loudly. She grabbed some of the boxes, placed them in his arms, and then opened the fridge. He placed the boxes down on the counter and watched as she pulled out chocolate sauce, caramel, and whip cream. She then found bowls and some spoons, and offered him a smile.
"So, what is your flavor?"
He didn't know how to respond. His voice was caught in his throat. To stall, he looked at the flavors in front of him. Vanilla, chocolate, mint chip, strawberry, and what looked like pistachio, but he could have been wrong. He looked back at her, and she was still waiting. Her smile beamed at him, and her braid caught his attention. She must have known. Smiling at her, he made up his mind.
With some courage he dug up from the bottom of his stomach, he leaned forward and placed his mouth over hers. His hand came up shortly after, cupping her face. It didn't take more than a couple of seconds for her to respond to him, moving her hands up his chest and to his face. When he pulled back, there was something smug about her face. He felt he had the same look on his face as well.
"Chocolate then," she said, extricating herself from his arms to scoop some ice cream. He moved to stand behind her, his hands laying flat on her hips. He wasn't sure, so he decided to ask. Leaning down, he placed his lips above her ear.
"So, just to clarify, I won right?" he said, and she scoffed.
"I think I'm up, four to one Tim," she said, and he just shook his head. He wrapped his arms fully around her, a smile blooming on his face as she settled against his chest. He didn't let her move from the ice cream, holding her still so he could whisper in her ear again.
"And, again just for clarification-"
"Yes, this is what you think it is: the best sundae in the world."
He laughed quietly at her interruption, and held her still a moment more.
"I want this, Ziva," he whispered, and she placed the ice cream down. She placed her hands on his arms, and turned her head towards his. His nose touched her forehead, and he could feel her smile.
"I want you, Tim."
There was a pause in their breathing, and it dawned on him. As he turned her around and pressed his lips to hers, he realized that he had the upper hand all along. She hadn't really been playing, but rather waiting. It should have been obvious, but he'd been so caught up in his stumbling that it looked as if she was messing with him. She'd known all along.
So, as he looked at her face (which bore the remnants of two months of waiting and happiness) he smiled.
Ziva: four. Tim: one.
And one was enough for him.
A/N: Reviews are always appreciated, as always and forever. I happen to like this a lot, and spent a good deal of time making sure I got as many errors as possible.
Thanks for reading, don't be shy to take the time to click the little review button.
-Izzy