A/N: This follows straight on from the previous chapter.
Once again, thanks for your amazing reviews and for continuing to follow this story. And thanks to SnoopMaryMar.
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.
Part 4: The Engagement Party – part 2
After dessert, Abby found herself on the edge of a conversation between one of Jimmy's cousins and Breena's best friend. Their conversation about a music festival they'd all been to had somehow degenerated into a fevered discussion about bridesmaids dresses, and Abby was now desperately looking for an escape hatch. She found it when her eyes swept over to their table and saw Tony sitting by himself. Her friend didn't seem at all lonely; on the contrary, he looked content with a small, charmed smile on his face. He was currently gazing across the room at Ziva, and Abby wasn't sure that he was even aware that he was alone. Part of her wanted to leave him to his own devices, but a much, much bigger part of her decided that it was well past time that the two of them had a heart-to-heart.
She excused herself from the debate about satin and chiffon, and then headed Tony's way. He looked up when she got within ten feet, and she danced the rest of the way over, drawing a big smile out of him. She dropped herself into Ziva's chair and crossed her legs towards him.
"Did you know that Jimmy's family originally came across on the Mayflower?"
Tony pursed his lips. "I was not aware of that."
"And apparently his great grandfather was an aide for President Roosevelt."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "My uncle was the president of a Fortune 500 company until he had a total nervous breakdown."
Abby tried to think of a noteworthy relative in her family. "My cousin Eddie was a backup dancer in Madonna's Vogue video clip."
"Cool."
He was staring again, and Abby followed his gaze to where Ziva was talking with Ducky and an older woman in a sparkly gold jacket. She swung back to look at him and cocked her head to the side as she considered how to go about this.
"Anthony," she began.
He glanced at her with a smirk. "Abigail."
"I've been meaning to come and talk to you for a while."
"But you've been too intimidated by my good looks to approach me?"
Abby's eyes rolled over an affectionate smile. "Um, sure."
"You don't need to roll your eyes quite so hard at that," he suggested.
Abby gently poked his thigh. "We're tight, right?"
This time, he turned his head all the way to look at her. "You and me?" He reached along the back of her chair to tug the ends of her hair, and gave her a wink. "Thick as thieves, baby."
"Then I think it's time that you and I had the talk."
His lips quirked. "If this is about how birds don't actually have sex with bees, I worked that out at least 18 months ago."
Abby smiled, but leaned closer and poked her finger into his thigh. "Okay, I want to talk to Serious Tony for a while. Can you send him out for me?"
"Yeah, but he's only free for ten minutes."
"Ten minutes is all I need."
Tony feigned shock. "Abby!"
"Serious Tony, please," she begged, tugging the sleeve of his jacket.
Tony put down his drink and focused his attention on her. "Okay. What's up?"
She looked at him with fond frustration. "I'm getting sick of waiting for you and Ziva to just sort it out already." She wasn't exactly sure what his reaction would be to such a straightforward statement, but she certainly wasn't expecting the self-aware smile.
"You're getting sick of it?" he threw back.
"I'll admit that my level of frustration probably isn't as high as yours."
"I'd say definitely."
She tilted her head and eyed him, wondering if he was really going to be so honest about this with her. "So…you don't want to go into denial mode at all?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "Would you like me to?"
"No."
"Then, no." He glanced at Ziva, and then down at his hands as he took a deep breath. He didn't know why he suddenly had the urge to tell Abby about it. Maybe it was something as ridiculous as hoping that by saying it aloud, everything would turn out okay. Maybe he was just looking for some independent assurance. Or maybe he'd just had too much to drink and was in a confessional mood. "I don't know what it looks like from the outside. Maybe we're doing a much better job of keeping up appearances than I thought. But things are…moving. Generally in a forward direction," he said, gesturing with his hand.
Honestly, Abby was surprised. Not because it seemed as though they were both plainly acknowledging what was there, but because they were actively doing something about it. And talking to each other. Abby had sometimes doubted that Tony and Ziva would ever be able to do that.
"Wow. That's…great," she said, and then frowned as she tried to get her head around it. "Are you guys actually together?"
Tony shook his head. "No. Sort of. Yes, in a way. But also no."
Abby stared at him for a moment, and then lifted her eyes to the ceiling for a clue as to what to say next. "Um, not sure I follow."
Tony shifted in his seat, turning more towards her, and leaned closer. "Well, we haven't flat out said we're doing this, but…I think we are. We had a weird conversation this week about love and marriage, and I think we kind of agreed that we wouldn't get married."
Abby's eyes widened with distress. "What?"
Tony shook his head reassuringly. "No, I mean we agreed things would work better if we were together in a more de facto way."
"Oh!" Abby caught on, before the subtext hit her. "So, wait. You guys agreed that you were committing to each other?"
Tony made a face. "Yeah, but no. We were actually talking about Palmer at the time. And then McGee. And Gibbs and Jenny. Come to think of it, we were talking about everyone but us." He shook his head. "That's not important. We were really talking about us."
They watched each other quietly, and when Tony slipped into a happy, indulgent smile, Abby returned it.
"Well I guess I'm not needed here, then," she said.
"How's that?"
Abby gestured at in the vague direction of where she'd been. "I was over there and saw you watching Ziva all puppy-eyed, so I came over to tell you to just go do it already. But you've already done it."
"Done what?"
Abby smiled, on the verge of mega excitement. "Professed your undying love."
His smile widened momentarily at her idealism before he shook his head. "We haven't done that."
The look of surprise that came over her face was almost cartoonish. "Why not? You love her, right?"
Tony sighed, and didn't directly answer her question. "Here's the thing, Abs," he said seriously. "Right now, it doesn't matter if I love her. She is not an American citizen. She is here on a temporary work visa. And if Uncle Sam decides that he wants her to hand back the keys and find someplace else to live, she's going to have to pack her weapons cache and go, regardless of any feelings I might have."
Abby shook her head firmly. "Tony, that's not going to happen."
"It might," he countered, and then rubbed his chin. "I don't know. I think we're just trying to keep some of those bigger barriers in place until there's some certainty in the future."
Abby slumped back in her chair. She'd never even considered that they'd been holding out all this time because of that. She'd thought it was because of Gibbs, or because they were both kind of adorably emotionally oblivious and scared. She'd never thought there were practicalities to it.
"So, what will you do if her citizenship is denied?" Abby asked gently.
Tony's eyes wandered over to his partner again, and his mouth lifted in a bittersweet smile. "I've got some back up plans. B, C, D; one of them is bound to work."
Abby bit her lip. "Who do we know at the INS?"
Tony shot her a secretive grin. "That'd be Plan C."
"If you need help," she began, and left the rest unsaid.
Tony nodded. "You and McGee are on my speed dial."
"What are you going to do about Gibbs?"
"For Plan C?"
"No, assuming Plan A comes together."
Rules schmules, he thought. "Why does it have to be about him?"
"I don't think it does," Abby said. "But he has these rules that you're a bit of a stickler for."
He looked at her pointedly. "And you're not?"
"Not that one," Abby argued. "I'm anti-that one."
"Me too. Ziva and I are making t-shirts. You want one?"
As Abby grinned, a question Tony had been meaning to ask her for a while popped into his head. He had mixed feelings about actually bringing it up, though. He knew she'd be nothing but honest with him—it was one of the reasons he loved her—but that was kind of why he'd avoided asking her for so long. He wasn't entirely sure that he wanted her honest opinion. He was definitely looking for assurance from her now, but something told him she wouldn't give it freely.
But maybe that was a good thing. He'd been living this relationship in his head for five years and really hadn't brought it up with anyone. Although Abby was prone to be excitable, he also knew she had it in her to be calm, rational and considered. That was exactly what he needed now, and he decided to take a chance.
"My turn to ask you something," he said, and then paused while he found his backbone. "What do you think of Ziva and me? You know, as a unit."
Abby held his gaze, weighing up how honest he really wanted her to be. He gave her a little nod, providing permission to put all her cards on the table, and she trusted he knew what he was getting into.
"I love Ziva," she began. But instead of filling Tony with warm and fuzzies, the statement made him wince. Anything she had to say that began with a qualifier like that was not going to be completely complimentary.
"I know," he offered carefully.
Abby looked at the table as she tried to phrase her answer. "I love her like family, but there is a part of me that will always be wary of her because I think she is the only thing that could take you away from us."
As far as opening statements went, it was pretty heavy. He didn't say anything, but cocked his head to the side as he tried to understand what she was saying.
"I don't mean take you away as in kill you or whatever," she clarified. "I mean that I think you would go to the ends of the earth for her, no matter what the price. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and I get the whole bonds of partnership deal. But I guess I'm scared of what you would do for her." She tilted her head to the side and looked at him fondly. "I'm worried about the positions you would put yourself in for her, Tony. Because she's not an ordinary woman. And the things you might have to do for her aren't your typical give up your motorbike, move to another city things. With Ziva, we're talking…" She trailed off and her eyes widened as she considered the possibilities before she shook her head. "I don't even know what we're talking."
Honestly, Tony only had a slightly better idea than Abby. But he was prepared to accept the risk, no hesitation. And he was quick to defend her. "Would it make you feel better to know that she'd do crazy things for me too?"
"Not really," she admitted. "I love her. I just don't love her as much as I love you." She winced at her own words. "God, I'm going to hell for this."
But Tony understood better than she thought. "You still kind of think of her as an outsider."
Abby shook her head. "No, she's one of us. I love her like a sister. But it's just not the same as…"
"Kate."
"Yeah," she said softly. Ziva had never felt that way, Abby thought. There was just something different about their relationship.
"I don't think she's ever tried to take that place," Tony defended gently.
"No, I know," Abby said quickly, and tried to think of how to explain how she felt. "It's almost like since day one, she's been my brother's girlfriend, you know? She's always been yours, so it's been hard to think of her as something of mine. Does that make sense?"
Tony hadn't thought of it that way before. Okay, for a long time now he'd thought of her as his Ziva, his partner. But he hadn't known that everyone else thought of her like that too. Did McGee? Did Gibbs?
Did Ziva?
"Yeah," he answered Abby. "I guess."
Abby hugged his arm. "To be clear, and to say it one more time, I love her. And I love you like a litter of Labrador puppies, wrapped in sunshine and sprinkled with fairy dust." She paused while Tony laughed, and then favored him with a big smile. "And I love the guy you were before we met Ziva. I've loved you from…" She paused, and took stock. "I was going to say from the moment I met you, but that's not true at all. I thought you were an idiot when I met you."
Tony smirked. "Wow, you were really good at hiding that," he said sarcastically. If he recalled correctly, Abby had turned to Gibbs after meeting him to declare, No. We're not keeping him.
Abby continued as if he hadn't spoken. "But this guy you are now? He's, like, the best guy I know. And Ziva brought that out in you. I think you always wanted to be this guy but you didn't have a good enough reason to try to be him before. Ziva was a good enough reason."
She paused, giving Tony's head just enough time to stop spinning before launching in again.
"And I think you were the thing that gave Ziva a good enough reason to start thinking of herself as something other than a soldier and start treating her life as something other than a war." She gave him a proud smile. "You turned her into beautiful, free, human Ziva. You make each other better. So what do I think of you as a unit?" She nodded to herself, confirming her thoughts before she voiced them. "Kick ass."
For a few moments, Tony could only stare at her while he played her assessment over and over in his head. You make each other better. It was one of those rare moments when you realized that the romantic thoughts you had in your head for what you hoped would come true were shared by someone who didn't dream about them every day. For a moment, he felt light-headed, and wondered if he was actually awake. But then Abby gave his arm a gentle punch—bringing him back to earth—and he let himself believe that someone who wasn't Tony or Ziva thought that Tony and Ziva was a good idea. It was an independent assessment; perhaps he should get it in writing and keep it on file like a warranty card.
"Thank you," he finally said, truly meaning it.
"Honestly, I kind of already think of you guys as a unit," Abby went on. "I think the two of you do as well. So I don't really know if anything will change, you know? I mean, it will, because it'll all be out in the open. But you already know how to handle each other. You already know each other's best and worst. You know the raw nerves and how to cheer each other up. All that crap that you usually have to go through when you first meet someone and hook up? You guys did that years ago."
Tony could think of plenty of things he and Ziva had yet to go through, but couldn't bring himself to argue with Abby's optimism. "Sure."
Abby's smile gave way to a look tinged with sympathy, and Tony felt the weight of what was coming before she opened her mouth. "Does she know about Jill?"
Tony shook his head, and managed not to gasp at the sound of that name spoken aloud. He swallowed hard and tried not to indulge in the anxiety he suddenly felt tugging at his heart at that long-censored chapter of his life being brought up. "No. Not because I don't want to tell her. It just hasn't come up. It's not in my head most days, you know?"
"Yeah. That's good," she offered.
For a moment, Tony's mind wandered to sweet blue eyes and soft dark hair before he wrestled them back to the present. "What's the bet she says it explains everything?" He turned a smile on Abby, but Abby wasn't having any of it.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Act like you're damaged goods."
The hit landed too close to the bone, and Tony went on the defensive. "That's not what I'm doing."
"It totally is," Abby argued, but the blow was softened when she cast her eyes out over the crowd. "You told me you'd gotten past it, and I believed you."
"I have," he tried to assure her. "Really. You're aware of my reputation for using humor as a defense, right?"
"Special Agent DiNozzo does that," Abby pointed out. "But my friend Tony doesn't. Not about big ticket, life-altering stuff like this."
Tony took a deep breath and held back the joke on the tip of his tongue that would deflect this uncomfortable conversation elsewhere. "Okay. How do you think she's going to take it?"
The hint of a knowing smirk crossed Abby's face. "I think she might be tempted to do some spy work."
Tony understood her meaning, and openly winced. "No, I don't think she would," he countered, but only because he hoped to make himself believe it.
"I know I was," Abby muttered.
Tony smiled and looked down, overcome for a moment by a wave of affection for his protective friend. He slid his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head. "Yeah, I love you, too."
When he removed his arm, Abby hooked hers into it, and rested her head against the side of his shoulder. "I don't think it's going to change her opinion of you, if that's what you're worried about."
Tony shook his head as if waving the suggestion away, but said nothing. That was exactly what he was worried about. The Jill part of his life was over and he was done dealing with the fallout. But there was always going to be a piece of him that wouldn't heal. He just hoped Ziva wouldn't find the scar too ugly.
Abby poked his thigh. "Stop it," she admonished.
"I'm stopped." He was done with this. "You look great."
His lack of subtlety made Abby's eyes roll to the heavens, but she respected his need to take a breather from the conversation. "Thanks. I hate heels."
"You wear five-inch platforms every day," he pointed out.
"Yeah, but they don't have a heel, Tony," she explained. "Heels are unnatural."
"Pretty hot, though." He threw a look at the gold things on Ziva's feet that made her leg muscles do that thing he loved.
"Modern-day torture devices," she grumbled. "Pain for beauty's sake."
Tony didn't bother commenting on the reasoning behind her decision to adorn her body with tattoos. His thoughts had already returned to their previous conversation, and he found himself returning for more punishment.
"I don't suppose you want to tell Gibbs?"
"About my hatred of heels?" Abby deliberately misunderstood. "I don't think he'll find that news as interesting—"
"Is he going to stroke out, do you think?" he cut in. She was only filling time while she waited for him to ask, anyway.
Abby shook her head against him. "I think he's been expecting it for a little while. And he hasn't exactly sent you kids to opposite corners of the classroom."
Tony thought about his discussion with Ziva about the origins of the hated number 12. "We think the rule's more of a guideline."
Abby smiled, but didn't tease him about his unit-based language. "I've never paid much attention to it."
"You've also never dated co-workers."
"I dated McGee."
"Yeah, but you never worked side-by-side all day, every day." He paused. "You don't have co-workers. You have colleagues. Except the Chipper. He was a co-worker." He stopped and looked down at her with a frown. "And if you dated him, you should tell me now."
"We didn't date," Abby said, and then waited a beat. "It was straight sex. Nothing kinky."
Tony could laugh only because he knew it was ridiculous. "Yeah? What you ended up doing to him looked pretty kinky."
Abby recalled the sight of her would-be killer and the kid who'd tried to frame Tony for murder squirming on the lab floor, bound, gagged and covered in Caf-Pow. Generally, Abby was a pacifist. But she didn't feel a smidgen of guilt over what she'd done to him.
"That was for both of us."
"Right on," Tony said, and held his palm out. Abby slapped it with hers.
"So you really don't think McGee is my co-worker?" she asked.
"There's a measure of distance there that makes the rule-slash-guideline less of an issue." He expected a quick reply, but when none was forthcoming, he decided to tease her to see if Ziva's theory was right. "Why? You still thinking about taking a bite of Probie Pie?"
"No," Abby said firmly. "That's over. Well over. I love him, but that dog won't hunt."
Tony nodded, and then gently reversed their patient/therapist roles. "I'm not sure he's clear on that, Abs."
She sighed so heavily that she should have passed out. "I know." She tensed. "Did he say something to you?"
"No. He said something to Ziva but I don't know what, exactly."
Abby sat up straight to look him in the eye, and he empathized with the expression of confusion on her face. "Why are McGee and Ziva talking about McGee and me?"
"I have no idea," Tony said, letting his tone express his own surprise.
"Since when are they BFFs?"
"I don't know. Ziva said she thinks he talks to her because he can't talk to the rest of us."
"Well, that's ridicu—" she started with outrage before slumping again. "Oh, yeah, she might have a point there. I mean, he'd love to talk to you, but he probably can't find the line between big brother and senior field agent."
Tony was about to get on his 'preparing probie for the future' high horse, but thought of a better argument. "I think he doesn't want to talk to me about you because he knows I'll break his arms if he screws up."
Abby considered that. "Probably."
He eyed her before gently asking, "Have you thought about how to make it clear?"
She gave him a look laced with guilt. "I don't know how to do it without breaking his little Timmy heart."
"You can't just be straight with him?"
Abby skewered him with a scowl. "Because you know all about being straight with people about your feelings."
He honestly couldn't argue with that. "Okay. Good point, well made."
"I don't know why I have to suddenly address it," Abby told him, obviously trying to convince herself of it. "I know he still carries a torch, but the flame hasn't gotten any bigger. It's just been...glowing embers with the occasional flare up."
Tony's eyebrow rose at her metaphor, but he tried to keep it going. "Well, all it takes is a breath of wind to...feed the fire of desire." It was a lame attempt, so he gave up. "Can we stop talking in flame metaphor? I've had too much to drink for that."
"Sure. Maybe I should introduce him to someone," she suggested. "Or you. You could introduce him to someone."
"I don't really have girls as friends," he pointed out. "I have you and I have Ziva, and you're both excluded from the process by default."
"What about Celeste?" she asked, referring to one of his oldest friends from college.
"She's married to my buddy Josh," he reminded her.
Abby deflated. "Oh. Right."
"Maybe you could introduce yourself to someone."
"Hmm. Who do you know?"
"For you?" He shook his head firmly. "No one. I wouldn't let any of my friends within a hundred yards of you. Not even to pump your gas."
"Ooh," she cooed, turning his innocent statement into a double entendre.
Tony closed his eyes and tiredly shook his head. "That wasn't a euphemism. Although I also wouldn't want them to pump your gas." He frowned. "I'm not sure that even makes sense."
"What about that guy over there in the blue pinstripe?" Abby suggested, gesturing with her chin.
Tony grimaced. "I am not discussing guys with you, Abs," he told her, before glancing at the guy in question. "But I don't think he's your type."
Abby shrugged, already over it. "It might be bad form to hit on him right in McGee's face, too."
"Yeah, I'd advise against it."
Across the room, Ziva's eyes drifted from the people she was talking to over to their table. She'd felt Tony's eyes on her for a while, and it was no surprise to find him looking at her now. He gave her a soft smile that make her belly tingle and her skin prickle, and Ziva glanced at Abby to see how closely they were being watched. Abby was staring at her with a knowing expression that made Ziva wonder what the hell they'd been talking about. She excused herself from the conversation and then headed over to join them.
She dropped into the seat on the other side of Tony. "My feet hurt," she told them.
Abby's expression was all sympathy. "I know."
"But you look great," Tony pointed out.
Ziva tried to wriggle her toes inside her shoes, and winced at the intense burning she felt. "I am never wearing these shoes again."
"Ziva, don't make sweeping comments like that," Tony lectured, like a disappointed parent.
Ziva raised her eyes from her throbbing feet to fix him with a steady look. "Tony, you need to drop this strange interest you have in my shoes."
Abby chuckled as Tony recalled their conversation from just a few days ago in the Navy Yard garden about her stilettos. He nodded quickly. "Yes, I agree."
"What are you two deep in discussion about?" she asked.
"Just profiling the happy couple," Tony lied easily. "I'm not sure yet, but I think Breena might be a sociopath."
"What?" Ziva and Abby yelped.
"She's so happy!" Tony argued, as if it all made perfect sense. "And smiley and…bouncy. There's something going on there, I'm telling you." He wagged a wise finger. "I'm very good at profiling—" He cut himself off when Ziva grabbed his finger in her fist and gave him a warning look.
"Don't you dare say that to Jimmy. Not even in jest."
Tony shook his head, promising he wouldn't, as Abby jumped in with her two cents.
"I think she's sweet. Not really my kind of person, but sweet."
Ziva let go of Tony's finger and replied to Abby. "I cannot imagine myself having an easy conversation with her about anything—ever—but I do not think she is anyone to worry about."
Tony rolled his eyes dramatically. "Fine. But when she hacks him apart and tosses his pink bits into the garbage disposal, I'm going to say I told you so."
Ziva's eyes turned sympathetic as she recalled a case from months ago in which that exact scene had played out. "That case still bothers you, yes?"
He cut a look to her. "It haunts my nightmares," he told her seriously.
Ziva rubbed his thigh supportively.
"Be that as it may," Abby said, "and I don't blame you for being squeamish, it's not appropriate engagement party discussion."
Ziva supposed she was right. She looked over to where Jimmy stood by Breena's side and beamed down at her as she charmed his grandmother. "He looks happy."
"Yeah," Tony softly agreed.
She turned back to Tony with a vaguely guilty expression. "We should stop being so cynical."
"I know," he said, and then added, "I give it a year."
Ziva sighed at his predictability as Abby gave him a shot in the arm.
Tony chuckled. "I meant a year until they have gorgeous babies."
He hadn't meant anything of the sort and his friends knew it. But now Abby's head was full of soft pink skin and the smell of talcum powder.
"Oh my God! Do you think they will?" she asked with wide eyes. "That would be so cool! Our first baby!"
Tony and Ziva gave her twin looks that read Calm down, freak!
"You know they probably won't ask you to have the baby, right?" Tony checked, as Ziva leant across him to grab her drink that had been sitting in front of Abby. He rested his hand momentarily in the centre of her back, and it took him until she had straightened again and was sipping her drink to realize that her back under that slinky satin dress had been completely smooth.
"Yeah, but it'll be a Team Gibbs baby, right?" Abby was saying. She looked over to Jimmy and smiled on a sigh. "Little Jimmy Palmer. Our first wedding, our first baby."
While Abby talked family values, Tony was trying to surreptitiously look into Ziva's dress to confirm his suspicions that she wasn't wearing a bra. How had he missed that? They'd been here for four freaking hours and his eyes had made dozens of sweeps of her body. How had he missed the hotness?
"I wonder why Ducky never married," he heard Ziva say, but Tony had essentially tagged out of the conversation. He was focused on coming up with a ruse to get her into a halfway secluded spot so he could run his hands all over that silk and find out if he was right.
For the next few minutes, Tony conjured up memories of the texture of her skin on her belly, her thighs, the back of her neck. He thought of the taste of her lips, and her welcome weight on top of him. He replayed the sound of her moans when he kissed her, and how quickly her skin heated under his hands.
He swallowed hard with a dry mouth, and fought the urge to just lean over and start kissing her neck. He'd have to wait until they were home before he could start indulging in his desires, presuming she was interested in that tonight. If she wasn't, who knew how long he'd have to wait for an opportunity to pull her close and slide his hands under her clothes?
The thoughts suddenly fell out of his head when Abby smacked the table and pushed her chair back, making Tony jump.
"Oh my God! Is Ducky about to play that piano?"
They looked through the crowd of people to the Baby Grand that the elderly M.E. was sitting in front of while flexing his fingers.
"Looks like it," Ziva said. "I did not know that Ducky played the piano."
"I've got to see this," Abby said excitably, and then stood up and rushed away.
Tony watched her go with the frown of someone who was always wondering what went on inside her head. He turned to bring it up with Ziva, but the question died on his lips at the sultry look she was giving him.
Tony swallowed. "What?"
"You have gone awfully quiet," she said.
Tony tried to keep a straight face that would hide his internal musings about the soft skin of her stomach, but his guilty grin broke through. "I'm just thinking," he said casually. "You know, deep thoughts."
Ziva eyed him, clearly not buying it. "About what?"
"Global warming," Tony replied. "The melting polar ice caps. All those poor little polar bears that are running out of places to live and fish to eat. Stuff like that."
Ziva stared back at him with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. The examination made him smile as much as he squirmed.
"Then why are you blushing?" she asked.
Tony casually reached for his water glass. "Global warming," he said again, not managing to keep a straight face but continuing the lie anyway. "It's getting really hot in here. I'm flushing, not blushing."
She looked like she was about to laugh, but then pulled her gaze from him and looked across the room as Ducky began to play. Abby was sitting beside him on the stool and there was a small crowd around him, watching the show.
"I never gave you those piano lessons," she said thoughtfully.
He didn't respond. He just watched her profile with heavy eyes until she turned back to meet his gaze. Instead of smiling away discomfort at being caught staring, he kept watching her. Ziva's eyes fell to his mouth for just a moment before she leaned closer to him.
"You have gone quiet again," she said softly.
His eyes slowly fell to wander over her mouth and neck, and then down to her dress and thighs. "You look beautiful," he told her, his tone matching hers.
The corner of her mouth turned up. "Thank you. I like your suit."
He barely smirked. "I know. I look pretty good in it."
Her smile grew before she quickly reined it in. She reached out to slide the collar of his shirt back under his jacket, letting her knuckles brush his jaw, and aimed a wanting gaze at the hollow of his throat.
Tony watched her wet her pink lips, and swore the temperature in the room went up ten degrees. Her hand ran down the front of his jacket, and she briefly tugged on the hem before pulling her hand back to her own lap.
"Were you planning on hanging around much longer?" she asked.
Tony looked around the room. It seemed that maybe a quarter of the guests had already left, so they could probably get away with going whenever they wanted and not seem rude. It would be embarrassing to leave before Ducky, though.
"Soon."
Ziva nodded slowly. "Share a cab?"
The subtle smirk on her lips told him she was just trying to keep up appearances. He didn't doubt that he'd be walking through her door tonight.
"Of course," he said. "I wouldn't want you to get a cab on your own at this time of night. Who knows what might happen to you."
Ziva nodded along. "Exactly. I might be arrested for beating up a cab driver."
He smiled. "Ten minutes?" he suggested.
Ziva nodded, and then threw back the rest of her drink. "Let's say goodnight to the happy couple."
They got up from the table, and when Ziva stooped to pick up her handbag from under the table, the sleeve of her dress slid off her right shoulder. Beautiful golden skin, unadorned by lace, elastic or satin, was exposed to Tony's hungry gaze, and he felt a quickening of his heartbeat and a tightening of his pants.
The minx was going commando after all.
Jill? Who's Jill? And why hasn't Tony told Ziva about her? Stick with me. It will all be explained. I'm just throwing in some layers…
