Author's Note:Thank you all for a warm welcome into the fanfiction world. You guys really made a newbie happy with your reviews and words of encouragement. It is much appreciated.

What Are We Doing?

Chapter 2

Tony reached for his watch on his bedside table, a quarter to eight it read. He moved to stand in front of his full-length mirror and check out his reflection. He had put on a black, button-down shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. He was keen on keeping things simple as he had not given any indication that this was anything more than a friendly get-together.

He settled down on the couch in living room, switched on the television and browsed through the channels to give himself something to do and keep his mind occupied. He had no idea how the rest of the evening would go. The one thing he did know was that it just had to go well. The clock on the mantelpiece struck eight as he heard a knock.

"How typical?" thought Tony, turning off the TV and making his way towards the door. He reached for the handle, ready to ask her if being punctual to a fault that it was almost slightly creepy was a part of her Mossad training. Those words were lost somewhere between his mind and his lips as he opened the door to reveal Ziva.

She had worn a mustard yellow top, a colour that always looked good on her, which was sleeveless and showed off her tan. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail although her curls were intact. She had put on some light make up and the overall effect made her look positively radiant. And like he had done over tne past couple of months, he wanted to compliment her but this time, the words just refused to flow.

"Cat caught your tongue, Tony?" asked Ziva.

That snapped Tony out of it. "Ziva David, did you just get an idiom right?"

"I did?" exclaimed Ziva, sounding genuinely surprised. "Well, good for me, I guess," she remarked with a soft smile.

They stood like that for a while; eyes fixed on the other before Ziva raised her eyebrows and asked, "Are you going to invite me inside or..."

"Oh, ya, of course. Come on in, Ziva." He took her coat as she entered his apartment and placed it on the hanger by the door.

She took a few steps inside and stopped in her tracks. "Something smells good in here," she observed. She turned around with a start to face Tony who was right behind her. "Tony, did you cook?" she enquired of him, clearly surprised.

"Um, yeah. I didn't much fancy the alternative of having dinner outside, in a restaurant, probably filled with gooey-eyed romantics," he replied, not quite meeting her eyes. "Is that a problem?" he asked, looking up.

"No," she was quick to reply. "It is just that I did not expect you to. Not that I do not appreciate it," she added, smiling up at him which Tony was more than happy to return.

He moved to stand closer to her, pointed to the kitchen, bowed a little and asked, "Care to join me."

"I would love to," she replied.

A few minutes later, they both had a plate full of steaming pasta in their hands and were comfortably seated on the couch in the living room chatting away.

"Mmmm, this is so delicious!" praised Ziva, having taken her first bite.

"Thank you," came Tony's response, delighted to have someone lauding his culinary skills.

Ziva ran her hands appreciatively over the couch cushion and commented, "This really is a very comfortable couch."

"Try telling that to Shmeil. He was the one who had to spend the night on it when he stayed over. I'm sure that wasn't a picnic!" replied Tony, taking in a mouthful of the pasta. "How is he, by the way?"

"He is fine, Tony. He left for New York three days back. We stay in touch." She took a gulp of water and stared straight ahead. "He has been very supportive through everything that has happened; I owe him a lot."

She sighed heavily and went back to her food as Tony looked on. It was obvious how much pain the memory of her father's death still caused her. Seeing her like this bothered him, a lot. As much as he wanted to help ease her pain, he knew there really was nothing he could do. Her father was gone. Nothing, not even revenge against was going to change that. This knowledge didn't help, though. The frustration that comes with not being able to do something to set the situation straight was the worst.

She soon relaxed, however, as the memory of something seemed to amuse her. "You seem to have made quite an impression on him," she said, facing him. This perked Tony up as she went on, "He had so many nice things to say about you that I was starting to think that you had bribed him to do so," she stated, giving him a pointed look.

Tony put on a mock-scandalized expression and shouted, "This is an outrage! How dare you accuse me of something so..."

"Yeah, it cannot be so," Ziva cut him off from going into his dramatic-monologue mode. Tony pretended to cool down, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I mean, Shmeil is too honourable a man for you to pull off something along those lines," she added, with a cheeky grin at him and they shared a good laugh.

Once the laughter died down, Ziva continued, "Anyway, he asked me to thank you on his behalf for your hospitality."

Tony, busy finishing up the last of his pasta, shrugged and replied, "Least I could do."

Ziva gave him a strange look that Tony did not catch. When he looked back at her, she turned to place her empty plate on the table beside the couch and began to rummage through her bag.

Tony grabbed her plate off the table and dumped both together into the kitchen sink. He came back, took his seat and ask, "What were you looking for?"

"I have something to give you, Tony," she answered, shifting on the couch to face him. Her hands were behind her back; obviously hiding the said object from his view.

Tony sensed her nervous excitement and became quickly intrigued. He moved closer to her as he said, "You have my attention."

"I got this for you a while back. But I could not find the right time to give it to you given how, well, crazier than usual things have been lately," she explained, slowing bringing to view a small, rectangular box.

"You got me a new DVD? Sweet, that's very..." he voice dropped as he turned over the cover and noticed the bold letters written across it.

THE LITTLE PRINCE.

Tony stared at it wide eyes and mouth slightly open. Ziva was trying to read his expression and was not having much success as she continued, "I noticed that it was not a part of your huge collection. I thought it would be a nice addition given your history with the movie." She waited with bated breath; with every passing second this was starting to look more and more like a bad idea. "Tony?" she whispered finally, unable to take the pressing silence any longer.

He swallowed hard, moving his hand to place it over hers which was resting on her lap, he squeezed it. Ziva's eyes focussed on their hands, now intertwined, shock written on her face. When she realized that Tony was looking at her, she lifted her eyes to meet his. She was not prepared to see the intensity and sincerity she found in them. In a voice that was barely audible, he said, "Thank you so much, Ziva."

Ziva was momentarily too stunned to respond. Taking a moment to collect herself she replied, "You are always welcome, Tony."

Tony nodded at her a couple of times and regarded the DVD he still held in his hands. There was a slight frown on his face and he looked to be contemplating something.

"What are we doing?" He finally asked.

"I do not understand," came Ziva's confused reply.

"We are spending our Valentine's evening with each other and acting as if this is just another casual evening spent catching up when we both know that there is a lot more to it. We've spent the past year confiding in each other our deepest secrets, things that probably nobody else in the world know about us. We trust each other with our lives and have always had each other's backs. We've tried to be there for each other in our darkest hour and even when it wasn't always smooth sailing we've managed to move past it and find each other once again. We've risked our lives for each other and we both know that we'd gladly do it again if at all the situation warrants it. We know that we care for each other, more than we'd care to accept we do. We are more than partners. More than friends. Neither of us have been seeing anyone for over a year now. For anyone from outside, it only seems natural that we'd be a couple and yet we are not. So I pose the question to you once again, Ms. David," he finally turned his gaze upon her.

"What are we doing?"

Author's Note: It looks like this is going to go on for atleast another chapter. This took a long time for me to write (boy, who knew how demanding this can get) but I loved every minute of it. Does it get easier to get the words flowing once you've written a few? I really wanted to get this up before Hereafter aired. Hope you had a nice time reading this installment. I am still learning and I am still new to this, so it would be helpful if you could drop by the review section with your thoughts; whether you liked it or not.