Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I won the show or anything affiliated with it. If I did, we would not have been dancing around the Tiva thing nearly as long as we have!
Ziva and Tony are left to run the scene after the death of Director Shepard. What happens when Ziva's tough-girl front breaks down? Rated M for upcoming chapters. Reviews welcome, this is my first fanfic, so I'd like to know how I did.
Chapter One
She was dead. Jenny was dead. Jenny was dead. . The thought ran like a mantra through Ziva's brain. Jenny was dead, Gibbs was understandably furious, and now they had to go about their work like it was just another day.
Gibbs had instructed Ziva and Tony to handle the murder scene. Ducky and Palmer had collected the bodies, but the aftermath remained. Ziva could not tear her eyes away from the area where Jenny had fallen. An area that was still stained with Jenny's blood.
"C'mon, Z, putting it off won't make it any better. Let's get to work."
The lack of Tony's usual sarcasm/banter was yet another indication of just exactly how much things had fallen apart today. Ziva raised her eyes to look at Tony, and immediately wished she hadn't. Gone was the ever-present mischievous gleam in his eyes, there was no trace of the grin he usually wore, especially when he had the opportunity to tease her. Instead, Tony's normally youthful face looked haggard, worn, and Ziva was inwardly relieved to see that his eyes and nose were slightly red. He'd never admit to weakness, to crying over the loss of anyone, he never had even with Jeanne, but the evidence made him seem all the more human.
Ziva collected her kit and began work. Tony began his processing at the other side of the room. McGee was supposed to be en route, Gibbs had said they'd need the extra help. Half a dozen murders wasn't exactly an easy day's work under the best of circumstances.
As she began the task at hand, Ziva struggled to keep her composure. Her eyes burned, her face felt like it was on fire, and she was shaking so hard, it took her three tries before she was able to grab an evidence envelope from her case. She had to get hold of herself. She was fairly certain that, what was it Tony called her, a ninja did not cry. She knew for a fact that Mossad did not cry. Right now, though, she didn't really feel like either.
Across the room, Tony was dealing with his own demons. He desperately wanted to just lay one the floor and kick and scream and swear at the injustice and unfairness of it all, but that wouldn't bring Jenny back.
"If we had just followed her…." Tony grumbled under his breath.
"What did you say, Tony?" Damn. Ziva must've heard him.
"Nothing, Z. You OK?"
"I am fine, Tony" Ziva's voice sounded choked.
Risking her seeing his own grief, Tony glanced over in Ziva's direction. What he saw stunned him. Ziva, the hard-ass, ex-Mossad assassin, kill-you-with-a-paperclip ninja was sobbing. Her head was bowed, her dark hair falling over her face, masking her from view, but Tony could see her shoulders shaking. She had given up all pretense of work and sat with her hands at her sides, not even bothering to wipe the tears, the picture of abject misery.
With not thought to protocol, Tony strode across the space to Ziva's side. Kneeling beside her, he hesitantly touched her shoulder.
"Z?"
At the touch of Tony's hand on her shoulder, Ziva started. Hurriedly, she brushed the cuffs of her jacket over her face before looking up at him.
"This never happened, Tony. You didn't see this"
"Ziva, it's all right. You loved Jenny just like the rest of us. It's only normal…" Tony was cut off by Ziva's sudden outburst.
"NO! Tony, this NEVER happened. You DID NOT see this. Do you understand? DO YOU?"
At that, whatever shred of self-control Ziva had been clinging to vanished. She broke completely, falling back to her knees from where she had shot up when Tony touched her. To Tony's dismay, instead of resuming the quiet sobbing that had brought him to her, Ziva began to rock back and forth, a high keening emitting from her throat.
"Aw, Z, don't, please don't. C'mon, Ziva, please?" Tony once again dared to touch her, knowing full well that it might be his final act. On a good day, Ziva was prickly about close proximity. This was definitely not a good day. After lightly placing a hand on her shoulder, and not being met with bodily harm, Tony dared to slip his arm around Ziva's back. She stiffened, but didn't pull away. Tony gently pulled Ziva closer and breathed a sigh of relief when she seemed to relax against him. The keening had stopped, replaced now by a trembling that Tony wasn't sure he liked any better.
"Why, Tony?" Ziva's soft question came from nowhere. "Why Jenny? Why?"
"I don't know, Ziva. It's just one of those things…."
"NO!" She was on her feet again. "No! We should have been here! We could have stopped them! We should have…." Ziva broke off.
Tony, unthinking, reached for Ziva again, having risen after her leap from where they had been sitting. Ziva responded with a right hook that he barely managed to dodge.
"Hey! Stop it, Ziva!" Tony once again reached for her, mindless of the danger such an action carried. Ziva was past the point of caring, however, and Tony managed to get hold of her arms and stop any further damage. Ziva struggled, too caught up in her own mind to think clearly.
"Ziva! Ziva, stop! Ziva, LOOK at me!" Tony backed Ziva up until she was against one of the tables lining the walls.
Ziva faintly heard Tony's voice through the haze of red before her and the roaring in her ears. She ceased the assault on Tony and felt him relax his grip on her arms. Ziva opened her eyes, surprised to see a look of relief on Tony's face.
"I am sorry, Tony. I do not know what happened. I would never…" Ziva's apology was silenced by Tony's kiss.
Framing Ziva's face with his hands, Tony slanted his mouth over hers, fully aware that he might pull away no longer in possession of his lower lip. He was surprised ( and relieved) to feel Ziva's hands knotting in his hair, instead of wrapped around his neck. Ziva's lips parted, allowing Tony to slip his tongue inside her mouth. The kiss went on for what felt like an eternity until the reverie was broken by the sound of gravel crunching under tires outside. McGee had arrived.
Tony and Ziva hurriedly resumed their processing of the crime scene, carefully avoiding looking in each other's direction. They could hear McGee slamming doors and the lid of the trunk as he gathered his gear outside.
"Tony?" Ziva's voice pierced the awkward silence.
"Mmm?"
"That never happened, either"
As the creak of the door heralded McGee's arrival, Ziva barely heard Tony's reply.
"Oh, yes it did, Zee-vah."
TBC, if reviews say I'm anywhere near where I should be. Thanks for reading!