Title: Love's Wounds – Chapter 4
Genre: NCIS – Romance /Angst.
Pairing: Tony and Ziva.
Rating: M
Timeline: Season 10, cannon with embellishments.
Spoilers: This chapter starts where the season ended of – so any interpretation is game.
Summary: Tony has his world rattled.
Disclaimer: If they were mine the unspeakable would not have happened….
A/N: I did mention that this runs cannon… right?
Written: October - November 2013
Proofed: July 2014
Language: International English.
Word Count: 3,142
❤ *·.·´¯`·.·* *·.·´¯`·.· TIVA ·.·´¯`·.·* *·.·´¯`·.·* ❤
Tony sat on his couch watching one of his favourite movies on TV, although it had failed to draw him from his thoughts, as he had originally intended. The last two weeks had drug by: having consisted of either firing off application forms or going for interviews. Baltimore was out – he did not want to go back there; also because one moved forward not back. The FBI had shown some interest, but he was uncertain whether he wanted to work for the bureau.
He shifted and pulled his phone from his pocket, then looked at it in anticipation before loudly sighing. His shoulders drooped as he closed his eyes. He could not will the one he wanted to talk to to phone him. Which was another thing he had done too often lately… look at his phone, uncertain as to whom he really wanted to have call him.
He'd liked his job and regretted handing in his resignation, but a united team-front had seemed important at the time. But since then, during these all too frequent idle moments, the impulsiveness of their actions only served to frustrate him. He missed them, the team – her, and it was harder to keep tabs on them – her.
The overtime pay-outs had been welcome. McGee had used his to go to some gaming tournament he'd spoken about in the past, but never had the opportunity to go to. Tony had encouraged the probie – to, "go seek new adventures!" That, in all likelihood, was a quote from some movie he could not remember, and that fact alone was telling enough of how scrambled his thoughts had recently become.
He needed to get out more, as he had originally intended. While he'd blown the equivalent of his overtime pay on his on his new bedroom, it had still seen no action. And considering his mood, he wondered if that was likely to see any action. His home remained his haven, and he struggled with the thought of picking up just any girl and bringing her back there.
There had been no word of Gibbs and Ziva had been remarkably quiet – too quiet and for too long. He worried about her, although he knew he had no right. On several occasions he had fallen back on the habit of staring at her number, like he had that one particular summer and for some reason this one felt similar. They had had a fallout, well not to the extent of the last time she was in Israel, it just felt as if his heart had been trampled on, and with her absence the steading part of him felt missing – although it was debatable as to just exactly who stabilized whom in their partnership. He wondered if he should call her, possibly invite her out somewhere, but at the last moment decided against it. Because she could be busy with something, or someone, else.
Irritated, he turned off the movie. Nothing seemed to calm him anymore. He felt out of sorts, uncomfortable in his own skin and he did not like it. And that was a premonition enough that something was wrong, that something had happened, for it was definitely not any other reason. He got up and made for the bar, then stood looking at the bottles, contemplating the options but then turned from them, knowing they would alter what he was feeling. He played with the idea of going for a run, possibly go to the gym in the morning, it would more likely settle his agitation, and then he shook his head. It was not physically that he was fidgeting, and he knew it. He again pulled out his phone again went through the numbers and then hit dial. He took a deep breath waiting for her to pick up.
"Tony?" the familiar voice came over the line, if somewhat guarded.
"Hey Abbs, heard anything?"
"No, he's still off the grid." Her reply came, and he could hear the concern in her voice.
"Let me know."
"I will," she was quick to reply.
"You wanna come over for a movie tomorrow?"
"Can't, got plans."
"New man?" Tony teased, although his heart was not really into it. "The silver haired one is not going to be impressed."
"Bowling league" Abby deadpanned.
Tony wanted to kick himself, knowing that Abby was hardest hit by Gibbs's disappearance, and made a note to speak to Gibbs about it – if he returned. And that was another train of thought he was unwilling to follow, for he knew that it was only the belief that Gibbs would return that kept Abby going. "So Bert is still the lucky guy?" he jousted, not wanting her to ponder on things.
"Yes," she flatly replied.
"He'll be okay Abbs," Tony tried, but his own uncertainty gnawed at him, especially with the amount of time that had passed. The last time one of their team members went MIA he had to live through the darkest periods of his life, all because they had never thought about it.
"I don't know, Tony, "Abby's concerned voice came over the line.
"He's Gibbs," Tony was quick to reply, "Gibbs always comes back."
"Yeah," she replied, although he could hear the dejection in her voice, "Why don't you phone Ziva and see if she's willing to have a move night?"
Tony sighed a remorseful sigh before answering, "I don't know, Abbs."
"And that is why you will never know," Abby stated, adding, "Gotta go."
"Okay, talk later."
He ended the call and again turned his attention towards the bar, this time reaching for the bourdon, slashing some in the bottom of a glass, hoping that worked for his mentor would work for him. Picking up the glass he muttered, "You'd better make it back Jethro, wherever you are, or that girl is going to be shattered," and then gulped some of the contents.
Turning, he looked at his lounge. Intent aside, his habit of secluding himself in his apartment and not allowing anyone inside was hardest to break. It was one he was going to have to work on. He shifted his arm, contemplating his options, possibly even going out, but then shook his head. Even at the nicer bars he frequented, to pick up chicks, only the dregs would remain. And no matter how casual it was, he at least wanted someone he could look at afterwards, someone whose cheap perfume and multiple layer lacquered nails didn't shout trash.
He moved towards his bedroom and turned on the light. The huge four poster loomed large as life, the sheets shimmering in the light, a multitude of pillows scattered all over would give it the image of a seduction haven once the lights were turned down and there was a coulde of candles added to the mix.
However lit as it was it did little to draw him, it should have beckoned him, but, if anything, it made him uncomfortable. It was like a huge white elephant, having taken up residence in his bedroom and for a moment he even contemplated reassembling his twin bed… but halted that thought. Not after she had lain in it, not after his father… No. He had bought this one for a reason. He was going to move on. It was time.
Putting down the glass he turned to his closet and pulled out a pair of boxers and dropped them on the bed along with a t-shirt. He was determined to sleep in it tonight, come hell or high water, even if he tossed for the entire evening, he would move on.
He checked the doors, and turned out most of the lights, before showering, dressing and slipping between the slippery sheets, that seemed to caress his skin. Turning onto his side he tried to get comfortable, which was not difficult given the mattress moulded to his body, cushioning it in just the right places… but it was not that which caused him to turn onto the other side. The sheets caressed his skin. The soft silky texture was like hands caressing his long starved body. Although he knew it to be his imagination he could smell her. After so many years her scent had imprinted itself on his psyche.
He cursed himself the lack of foresight, he should have changed the sheets, but held out knowing that if he got out of the bed he would most likely end up on the couch, and he was going to beat this, even if it meant little sleep and a little help in the shower in the morning. The bed seemed too big, it had too much space, and it was only in the early hours of the morning that sleep claimed him.
The following morning followed the same pattern as most others, although even for the little sleep he had, he felt better than he usually did after a night on the couch. He looked at the bed, and after deciding to change the sheets went in search of the cotton ones he'd bought.
He quickly stripped the bed and tossed the silk sheets in the laundry, the amount of laundry was indicative enough that he needed to make a trip to the Laundromat. He remade the bed and actually sighed in relief when he looked at it, it seemed much more appealing. Turning from the room he went to get ready, closing his bedroom doors as he stepped out of it. He had to restack the fridge which necessitated a trip to the grocer, because even he could only last so long on pizza and takeout, and then it would be back to trolling the employment adds. He'd contemplated striking out on his own as a private eye, but knew he would miss probie and the team too much – because, in all honesty, he was unwilling to give up on them managing to pull things together again.
Returning from his trip with grocery bags in hand he ran into her, and firsthad to take a step back to assure himself that he was not imagining thing. She had not changed at all, where he felt as if he had aged several years.
"Tony?" Ziva greeted, her voice indicative of her surprise.
"Why the surprise, miss David, this is my building.," he was quick to throw back.
"You… you were not home," she said, looking at the bags in his arms, she lifted her hands to gestured towards them as she spoke. "But from the grocery bags it is easy to see where you were."
It was an old habit of hers he could easily identify, one she often resorted to when he caught her unawares, or when she tried to cover things up. "You were looking for me?" he was quick to ask.
"Abby said you were looking for company," she said in her usual matter of fact tone.
"She did?" he countered, while trying to think of some way to counter whatever rib she was going to throw at him.
Ziva nodded, before she spoke, "And I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Tony was knocked speechless by her words, the honesty in them. He knew that she cared, but caring was picking up the phone and making a call, concern was coming over to check up on someone.
"Wanna go?" He asked trying to indicate upstairs, which instead looked like a shuffling of bags.
"Let me help," Ziva said stepping forward and taking the one from him. "You expecting guests?" she hesitantly asked glancing into the bag.
"No, stocking the fridge. Job hunting tends to need sustenance." He said leading the way back up to his apartment. "So have you found anything?" He casually asked, although hhis heart was thudding in his chest, wanting to know the answer but at the same time also fearing it. He knew that technically she did not need to work anymore, but the image of Ziva lounging around all day did not quite fit the person he knew.
"The N.S.A has offered me a position," she replied as they stepped into the elevator, the act itself nostalgic, he could not remember how many times they had stepped into an elevator together, having possibly shared every emotion in such a small confined space.
Swallowing at the lump that seemed determined to form in his throat he asked, "You want to work for national security… no, wait, would they even let you?" Once the words were out he regretted them. They had often ribbed each other in the past. It was almost expected of him to reply in such a manner, however this time it did not feel right.
"It appears that my years in the field as a Mossad operative and my years with NCIS has caught their eye," she deadpanned, confirmation enough that he that overstepped thus he let the slip the latter.
"And you're considering it?" he asked as the doors again opened on his floor.
"It is not like I can sit around doing nothing, I need to do something," She said as they stepped from the elevator.
Tony just nodded, adding, "I know the feeling," as they walked down the passage.
"You?" She asked.
Although he knew he should be honest and tell her that he was not really considering any of the offers he'd been made, he instead fiddled with his keys looking for the right one, the bag of groceries making it difficult but he managed, mumbling, "F.B.I." as he pushed the key in the slot, turning it.
"Fornell put in a good word?" She teased as she followed him inside.
"Must have," he nonchalantly replied, pulling the key from the lock before closing the door, "…but I'm still looking around."
"You are hoping that Gibbs will come back to sort out the mess."
Tony looked at her for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, "Aren't we all?"
Ziva looked past him towards the closed doors of his bedroom but followed him when he made for the kitchen and asked, "So how have you been?"
"I'm good," he said, placing the groceries on the counter. He looked her over. It was disconcerting having her there, on one side it was comforting comfortable, but on theother side he just could not let it go. The last time she had been there he had really thought they had gotten closer, that she actually allowed him in. But instead… he blocked the thought and started unpacking the grocery bag.
She had picked up on his shift, she'd known him for too long not to, however remained silent as she handed the groceries from the bag she had carried, not commenting on anything he had bought, another indication that things were not quite back to what they used to be.
Once done, he turned to her, "You wanna stay, you know, watch a movie?"
He saw her hesitate, and held his breath, wanting her to stay but not wanting to force it on her.
She finally nodded her head, "I may as well."
"What you want to watch?" He asked turning towards the cupboard, opening it and reaching for a packet of popcorn, butter or salted?"
"Salted," she replied. "What do you have?"
He stopped mid action, turned and looked at her for a moment, confused, then gestured to his lounge, "Go have a look."
He watched as she walked from the room for a moment unable to form a thought before snapping out of it. He turned back to the cupboard and pulled a packet of popcorn from the shelf stripping off the cover before popping it into the microwave.
He listened for her movements but as usual they were still, she was still and if it wasn't for her scent lingering in the air he would have thought himself alone.
The popcorn started popping and he reached for the bowl waiting for it to finish. The familiarity of the movements somehow eased his nerves, although he was still trying to figure out why he was nervous, they'd shared popcorn over movies before… it was not that strange… but then again they had always done that as partners. Whereas at that moment he had no idea as to what they really were.
He pulled the bag of popped corn from the microwave opened it and upended it in the bowl and only on looking around did he realize he had not asked her if she would like something to drink. Although considering the time of day, offering her a drink would be out of place,
"Coffee or tea?" he finally called after her, but almost did not expect an answer from her,
"Neither." her reply came. He breathed a sigh of relief as he picked up the bowl and made for the lounge. She was still perusing his collection when he stepped into the lounge, and he placed the bowl on the ottoman before reaching for the remotes, turning on both the TV and the DVD player/ she pulled a box from his collection and turned to hand it to him, he took it and read the cover for a moment trying to make sense as to why she would pick something like that but shrugged his shoulders as he opened the box and turned to the machine.
"You do not agree with my choice?" she asked.
"No, It's not that," he said slipping the disk into the tray.
"What is it then?" she demanded
"It's just not something I would have thought you'd pick."
"What did you thing I would pick?"
"I don't know something with guns or action, or Johnny Depp."
"Just because I like him in Pirates of the Caribbean does not mean that I like all of his movies."
"So it is just Captain Black that you like?"
"He makes me laugh." She replied an she moved to sit down, reaching forward to take the popcorn.
"Right Two Weeks Notice it is." He said moving to sit beside her placing the popcorn between them. "Although I really prefer the movies where Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves star together. She's way to good looking for Hugh."
"I am not in the mood to watch Speed." Ziva flatly replied.
"Given your choice River House would have been appropriate."
"That is the one where they send messages through the mailbox."
"So you've seen it?" he asked.
"Yes, it came out not long before Jenny recruited me."
Tony remained silent at that, focusing his attention to the remotes to set the movie going. So much had happened since she had joined the team, and it was difficult to imagine times back then, it had been so different, she had been so wild.
The movie started and they finally settled to watching periodically reaching into the bowl, the familiarity and solidarity of it comforting.
❤ *·.·´¯`·.·* *·.·´¯`·.· TIVA ·.·´¯`·.·* *·.·´¯`·.·* ❤
