So I needed a break from my other story and this is just something my brain threw at me :)
I wrote this one while listening to Always Midnight by Pat Monahan so if you want to get in the mood... haha
Well anyways I should stop talking and get back to my homework (who knew Australian literature could be so boring?)
enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I dont own NCIS, or Tony, or Ziva, or the squadroom, or the elevator... you get the idea :)

An eerie silence fell over the place as the elevator dinged once more, signalling the departure of the only other person left in the building. The soundless calm disturbed only by his slow breaths and the even beating of his heart, now audible over the quiet of the NCIS squadroom.

His duties done for the night, Tony slung his bag across his shoulder and made towards the elevator, switching off the lamp on his desk as he did. He made it only a few paces before he stopped in front of a desk that wasn't his own.
Wonderful, he thought to himself sarcastically. As if she didn't have enough of a pull on him already, now she had him caught without even being there.

Sighing out loud he rounded the front of the desk and sat gently in her seat. Not quite sure what he was doing he took a deep breath in, even the air smelt of Ziva. There was no escaping her. Closing his eyes and leaning back in the chair he revelled in the feeling of her, if he concentrated he could almost hear her. You do realise your desk is the next one across right Tony?

He smiled at the thought of the suspicion in her eyes as she said it and the way he would grin in response and answer her with a teasing comment. The way he always did.

Somehow though, whether it was the silence making him a little sentimental or whether he was just feeling honest, tonight he found himself wishing it was more. Wishing there was more to it than just their banter and light teasing. He found himself hoping that one day he could be honest with someone other than just himself, that one day maybe he could be honest with her.

Right now with only the silence for company, light from the moon shining in the windows, he could almost believe that she would want to hear it. That she would smile and lean in to kiss him gently before saying the words he had longed to hear from her mouth for so long.

A small creak from her chair broke him out of his reverie and he sat up so that his elbows now leaned on her desk and his chin rested on his palms. Looking across at his own desk he couldn't help but wonder what she saw when she looked across that space. Did she really only see a colleague? Did she look at him the same way she did McGee? He wasn't sure he would ever know but he hoped that after 5 years the bond they had was stronger than that. Maybe she would never understand the way he felt about her but he hoped she knew that they had never just been colleagues. They never would be.

They were partners.

Maybe it was fate that they'd ended up in this position, maybe it was just damn good luck, but whatever the reason he was thankful.

Standing now he slid his bag back up his arm and, for the second time that night, headed towards the elevator. As the doors closed behind him he wondered for a second what she was thinking. What he didn't know was that, at that point in time, Ziva David was curled up in her bed, gun under the pillow and knife on the nightstand, wondering if she could ever be honest with her partner.

So? what do you think? you know I love your opinions. Even the bad ones, they make me better :)