A/N: Tags to Obsession (7.21), Jet Lag (7.13), Truth or Consequences (7.01), and Dead Man Walking (4.16). It's inspired by the song "White Blank Page" by Mumford and Sons, and the lyrics at the beginning and end are from the song. I whipped this up rather quickly and I find it rather difficult to get into Ziva's head sometimes, so let me know what you think.
P.S. Some fabulous readers have caught a few mistakes that actually make the story much more laughable than I intended... so those should be fixed now - oops!
Oh tell me now where was my fault
In loving you with my whole heart
"Why don't you just call me Laura?"
She had hoped that a stupid movie reference would help break him out of his trance – or at least make him smile. It didn't. He had barely even looked at her. So she began to speak about how life was not a movie and how Dana was not just going to walk into his life. There was so much she wanted to ask him.
Somalia. Paris. She wanted to ask him where the man was that couldn't live without her, she wanted to ask him why, she wanted to be back in the men's room kissing his cheek and confessing her sins, she wanted to be back to the place where they were so fixated on each other that even their staring had made McGee uncomfortable, she wanted to under the lights of the Eiffel tower, or at the table of the café.
That had all been short lived.
She thought back to what now seemed an eternity ago when Tim had filled her in about Tony's new online relationship status – she had thought it was funny that this young girl was so attached to him, but would never really know him. Sure, the girl was pretty and young but she was a girl – and Ziva had told him long ago that the man he was becoming needed a woman.
Couldn't live without you, I guess. Maybe the truth serum wasn't as truthful as Saleem had thought.
Her mind went back to the moments of when they were laying next to each other in Paris, bodies given to each other if only for one night. She hadn't meant to, she had never meant to, but she had given him her heart long ago. She thought that maybe she had his as well, but he seemed to struggle with that. As they had lain in bed, he had teased and joked with her, all in a low voice that had made her smile before hitting his cheek or pulling at his chest hair.
This case had taken her to the brink. It was bad enough that it had been a headache to solve, but with Tony's behavior…
She had thought that they had a white blank page to begin again on, especially after they had cleared the air. She thought that the attention he always sought from her meant something, but he denied her closeness throughout the case.
He had called her David, like she was someone he barely knew, as if that past five years had not meant a thing.
She felt anger and rage boiling up in her, and took in long breaths to calm herself down. Now was not the time to be angry with Tony. For whatever reason, he had fallen for this woman. It was not very different than her… experience with Roy, the "dead man walking" as Tony had referred to him.
She wondered where she and Tony had gone so wrong. It was inevitable, although she had once told him that nothing was inevitable, that she had somehow begun to love him with her whole heart. But tonight was not about that, either.
So she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, knocked on his door, and waited. She cursed under her breath when she realized that she had not thought to look to see if his car was anywhere near the building. She knocked again, this time louder, and considered picking the lock.
"Not home," a low voice said from down the hall. She turned to see familiar green eyes cast down at the ground, his tie loosened, and the first few buttons of his shirt undone.
"Hello Tony," she said evenly.
"Wanna come in?" He asked quietly, walking toward her, but never really looking at her. He smelled like bourbon and wood shavings – he had been with Gibbs.
"Only if you would not mind the company."
He shrugged his shoulder, pushed the door open, and let her enter first. She flicked the light switch as he closed the door behind them.
"How are you doing?" She asked, wringing her hands together.
Something like a low grunt rose from his throat as he disappeared to his bedroom, discarding his suit jacket.
"Tony," she ventured, following him into his room. He stood at his dresser, the suit jacket discarded on the bed. His eye finally met hers. "I am sorry, for your loss."
"She went peacefully." The words sounded more like a mantra that he had been repeating to himself over and over again.
"There was nothing anyone could do; it was too late… much like it was too late for Roy."
Tony's eyes widened briefly in surprise and Ziva pursed her lips together, the name of the man escaping them for the first time in years.
"I forgot," he said quietly, rubbing his hands over his face. She wondered what exactly he had forgotten – that Ziva knew how he felt, or that she cared enough to try. "I got too involved."
"It… happens, to the best agents. Even Gibbs."
"Even Gibbs," Tony agreed quietly.
"I should have been more tactful," Ziva decided, sitting on his bed. "I do not know what to say now, but I can be here for you as a friend."
"A friend," he repeated.
"I once considered you to be my best friend, Tony."
"Paris," he let the word escape his mouth and Ziva shook her head, standing up once again.
"I cannot be just another one night stand, Tony. I am… not some girl you met at the coffee shop, and I am not some girl that thinks you walk on water. I am the woman you rescued from the desert, I am the person you once talked to, I am the one you spent the most time with after Gibbs left. I cannot play the game of tug-of-war any longer. I am your partner, I am your friend. And if you were to decide that I am anything more than that… give me a call and we will talk. Until then, I am your friend."
"Do you want to watch a movie?"
Lead me to the truth and I
Will follow you with my whole life