Chapter 4 – The Way Forward

"Tony, lean to the left! Hurry!" Ziva angled her body towards him, her arms hugging the raft's plump sidewall. He draped his shirtless body over the other side of the raft and groaned as it thrust into the air. For a moment, the raft pitched precariously to one side as a wall of water swelled underneath it, then suddenly the wave was past and the raft slammed down with a loud splash. Tony rolled onto his back, grimaced painfully, then clutched at his side.

Keeping a wary eye on the surrounding waves, Ziva leaned down and ran her fingers along his ribs. His skin was hot to the touch, the effect of hours of unabated sunlight.

"Are you OK?" she asked, fully aware of the concern in her voice. He gave her a weak grin, then pushed her hand away. "Just some soreness, Zee-vah. If you want to touch me that bad, just ask."

Ziva snatched her arm away and glared. "That is not a request you will get from me." She turned away and slumped over the side of the raft. Tony sat up and reached for her.

"C'mon Ziva, it's just a stupid joke." He put his hand on her arm, but she whipped around and shook him off with a harrumph. She pointed to another approaching wave.

Tony swallowed his anger and braced himself for impact. The wave rose steadily higher, and Tony could feel his stomach sinking as the sun suddenly disappeared behind a towering, frothy wall of crystal blue water. He dove towards Ziva and shouted: "WE HAVE TO BAIL! NOW!"

The raft started to list heavily to one side, and with a deep breath Ziva plunged headfirst into the water, with Tony following close behind. Tony could hear the roar of the wave crashing overhead, then felt a surge pull him rapidly down towards the dark ocean depths. He struggled against the current, pushing himself as hard as he could towards the surface. Ziva swept past him, a look of pure terror in her eyes. His lungs afire, relief flooded Tony when he felt the current changing course and pulling them upwards. With a final kick he broke free from the undertow and shot to the surface. He spluttered and coughed, then let out a sigh when he saw Ziva's head pop up beside him. She pulled her hair from her eyes and started to tread water, a difficult task in the rough sea.

"We're going to die out here." Tony winced at the sense of finality in her voice. He looked around desperately for any sign of the raft. It was nowhere to be seen. He swam to her side and stared into her eyes. She stared back, perplexed.

"I know why you were angry," Tony said with a smirk. She narrowed her eyes. "You're mad because it took me so long, and because we had to nearly die for it to happen."

"What are you talking about, Tony?"

"I'm talking about the fact that I didn't kiss you until we were seconds away from death."

Ziva shook her head and gave him a glimmer of a smile. "We've kissed before, my little hairy butt."

Tony cringed involuntarily at the mention of her old pet name for him when they pretended to be married on an undercover op.

"No, Ziva. I mean a real kiss. One that meant something."

Her smile was replaced by an inexpressive stare. She spoke softly.

"Maybe they did mean something." She started swimming away from him.

"Wait, where are you going?" He followed after her.

She pointed into the distance, and he caught sight of a cluster of seagulls whirling around a calmer patch of ocean. Intrigued, he allowed her to lead the way in silence. As they came closer to the flock of birds, Tony suddenly stumbled forward. His feet had found something solid. After a few more feet, Ziva was trudging through water only up to her thigh. Soon, they were both stepping in only a few inches of water, their feet sinking with soft, sucking splooshes into the mud. The seagulls cawed angrily at their intrusion, but readily gave them ground. Ziva turned to Tony and smiled.

"It's a sand club!" she said happily. He groaned. "Bar, Ziva. Sand bar."

They followed the thin line of sand for a mile, the sand sometimes breaking above the water's surface for a few feet, other times dropping several feet under. Tony noticed with some excitement that it seemed to be leading to an outcrop of rocks, which seemed to stretch into the horizon and terminate on the outskirts of distant island. They worked carefully around their jagged edges, alternating between exhausting swims around crashing waves and tiring climbs over their craggy surfaces. By the time they reached the island's beach, the sun had dipped below the horizon and stars were twinkling high overhead. Tony tried to ignore the rumbling of his stomach as he looked around what might well be home for the rest of his life. As he studied the mass of trees that overlooked the beach, he suddenly wished he had learned a bit more botany in college. One of these trees had to be edible, right?

Ziva nudged him gently. "Come, Tony. We need to start a fire before you freeze to death."

In mild shock, he stammered: "What makes you say that?"

She grinned, then reached out and pinched his left nipple, stiff as a stick.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I had a hospital visit this weekend and then came down with a bad cold.

Will post again very soon, and will begin to delve in the underlying mystery of our story. Cheers!