Fourteen words.
That was all it took for him to ruin his marriage. Granted his marriage was a sham, but that just showed the true depths of his talent.
Undercover mission? Botched by his playboy heart. Protection detail? Botched by his vapid personality. Or his Magnum obsession. That one was a toss-up. Fake marriage to prevent his best friend from being deported because he'd botched the protection detail? Botched by his big, fat trap.
"Because they would have shipped your ass back to Israel by now, wouldn't they?"
This time she didn't have to tell him that he'd crossed the line. He knew. Her eyes had shifted, and her face had taken on the look she got just after people accused her of not having feelings. It would start to crumple, like she wanted to cry, for less than half a second, before becoming like steel. And then she had turned around and walked out the door.
That had been last night at 9:30. At midnight, Abby had called to say that Ziva was staying the night at hers.
The worry over where she is has gone, but he still stays awake for hours. He has an ache in his chest that he thinks might have something to do with his heart.
She was a needler.
Aside from having breasts and liking shoes, it was her most female quality.
Usually the fact that she needled didn't bother her. Except that when she needled, she tended to get hurt. She pushed too hard. She pushed until the subject of her inquiry snapped. Effective interrogation technique, not so good for her personal relationships.
They bickered all the time. They'd bickered as partners over who got to drive, who would handle interviews, and who took which reports. As a married couple, they bickered over taking out the garbage, the location of items in the dishwasher, and leaving towels on the floor.
She couldn't even remember how it started. Very often she couldn't remember how their fights started. Given her Mossad training, she found this disconcerting.
She remembered pushing him; trying to get past that wall he always put up whenever she got too close. And then she'd said it.
"I do not know why I put up with you. Why did I think it was a good idea to marry you?"
His face did that thing where it looks like he might just tell you everything, before it hardens and turns mean. He'd followed that look with a nasty comment about shipping her back to Israel. It was cruel, and it made her feel like an object.
So she'd turned on her heel and left. She'd ended up at Abby's.
She couldn't tell if she'd left because he'd hurt her or because she'd hurt him. She's awake half the night. She has an ache in her chest that she thinks might have something to do with her heart.
The irrational, insane part of him wants to call in sick to work, and then go to Abby's and make her come home. The rational, sane part of him knows that he should leave her alone. She'll come home on her own.
He reluctantly goes to work, but spends the entire day worried that she'll go to the house while he's at work. The ache in his chest continues.
The irrational, insane part of her thought that maybe he would try to make her come home. The rational, sane part of her knows that she should just go home and face him like a grown-up.
She goes home, but spends the entire day worried that he won't come home. The ache in her chest continues.
When he arrives home, he's relieved to see her car parked in its usual place in the garage.
As she pulls dinner out of the oven she hears his car pull into the garage, and she's filled with a huge sense of relief.
"I'm sorry. I was a jerk." He tells her seriously as he enters the kitchen.
"Yes, you were." She agrees. She's facing the stove, so he can't see her face as she continues. "But I deserved it. I was being a bitch." She turns to face him. "You have done this incredible thing for me, and I threw it back in your face. I am so sorry."
"And I know how you feel about it. I hate that I hurt you when that's the last thing I want to do." He steps towards her and catches her off guard as he pulls her into a hug.
They've never hugged before. They have been physically close, and they have comforted each other, but never in this way. Ziva resists for a moment, before allowing the warmth of his body to pull her in.
As she relaxes into the hug, she can feel Tony, solid and strong around her. She feels safe and protected, a feeling she has never wanted or needed from a man. From Tony, it is a welcome feeling.
"I will forgive you, if you will forgive me." She tells him.
"Forgiven and forgotten." He tells her.
He can feel Ziva, small and soft in his arms. He's reluctant to let her go. When he does release her slightly, she looks up at him with her big, brown eyes and another impulse seizes him.
Lips meet and hands roam, and before either Tony or Ziva can form a coherent thought, they've made their way upstairs.
She had imagined sex with Tony. Not a lot, but it had been impossible not to after their undercover mission. She had imagined it would be quick and passionate.
He had imagined sex with Ziva. A lot. It was impossible not to when he was…well, him and when she looked like…well, her. He had imagined it a million different ways.
Neither of them had imagined what it was. Long and slow, full of need and want, it could only be considered making love, even if neither of them would admit it.
Ziva woke slowly, a feeling of contentment filling her entire being. She registered the feeling of Tony's chest pressed against her back, their tangled legs, and the feeling of his fingers threaded with hers.
He'd been waiting for her to wake up. When he felt her stir beside him, he tightened his hold on her hand and pulled her closer to him. He softly kissed his way across her shoulder and up her neck before whispering in her ear, "Good morning, Beautiful."
Ziva let go of his hand to roll over to face him. Tony's lips continued their journey on her other shoulder.
"Last night was…" he whispered before kissing her lips.
"Amazing." She finished.
"Fantastic." He continued.
"I was hoping for a repeat," she told him, sliding her hand across his chest.
"That can be arranged," he told her as he pulled the comforter over their heads.
They fought. They made up. It was their way. But they'd never forget their first big fight.
A/N: This chapter is the work of my entire chaotic summer. I apologize for the delay, but I moved over the summer and life has been crazy. Please review!