Okay, so I watched 7.02 and I have to say, I'm kind of relieved. The playfulness from season 3 with the heavy flirty tension?! Great stuff. And you just gotta love McGee, cutest guy ever. And so, I feel good about writing again. Kind of, 'cause I'm having a hard time here. I was so impressed that so many people have favoured this story! Thank you for your silent support.
Ziva awoke the instant Tony's keys hit the shelf next to the door. Her eyes made out the brightly glowing numbers of the alarm clock, telling her that it was 3:14. She heard his steps pause for a moment and knew he must be checking in on Ben, before he slowly pushed the ajar bedroom door further open. After his detour to the bathroom, she finally felt the bed dip under his weight and the covers being pulled in his direction.
"Stop hogging the covers, Ziva."
She turned to face him and released some of the fabric from beneath her arm. "I'm not hogging the covers." She could instantly smell the alcohol on him, albeit faint, as well as faded cigarette smoke. And something sweet. Was that… popcorn?
"What did you see?"
Tony chuckled lightly. Trust her to magically know where he had been half the night. Still lying on his back, he turned his face towards her, noticing the dark circles under her eyes in the dim light streaming in from the hallway. "All night Tarantino special. Just got there to catch the grindhouse feature. 'Well Pam, which way you going, left or right?'" He deepened his voice and looked at Ziva expectantly. She did him the favour.
"Right."
"'Well that's too bad.'"
Ziva actually had to hid a smile at this. He really was good. "Why?"
"'Because it was a fifty fifty shot on whether you'd be going left or right. You see we're both going left. You could have just as easily been going left, too. And if that was the case... It would have been a while before you started getting scared. But since you're going the other way, I'm afraid you're gonna have to start getting scared... immediately!'" Tony's hand had wandered to Ziva's face and he was caressing her cheek, before tugging her hair behind her ear. He knew he was walking on thin ice here, playing for time like this.
"I hate that movie." She said softly.
Tony shook his head. "'I don't know what futuristic utopia you live in, but the world I live in, a bitch need a gun.' You don't. You love this movie, sweetcheeks."
"True." Ziva admitted, before she suddenly sighed and propped her head up on her elbow, looking at Tony intently. "Are you just going to ignore that we're fighting? Where the hell do you think you've been?"
"I…" Tony could have smacked himself on the back of the head. Time's up. "I don't want to fight with you anymore. Watching movies clears my head-"
"Oh I can clear your head right now, Tony. But trust me, it will not be a pleasant experience." Ziva sat up. "While you have been off sulking, I had to handle your grumpy son, who refused to go to bed before his sorry excuse for a father came home!"
Tony sat up as well, reaching for Ziva but she got up from the bed and walked over to the drawer. "So suddenly he's my son."
Ziva spun around furiously, halting her movements for the moment. "Yes he is."
"What the hell are you doing?" Tony asked confusedly, when Ziva suddenly pulled her, no, actually his shirt over her head and changed into something else.
"I am going for a run." Tony rubbed his hands over his tired eyes, while Ziva sat down on the bed to tie her running shoes.
"It's barely 4 o'clock, Ziva."
"I know. But running clears my head. So it's either running, or shooting something."
Tony groaned in frustration. "Sure, keep running, it's what you're best at." He got up from the bed and started pacing the room, all the while Ziva was tying up her hair. "Isn't that what you came here for? 'Cause you were running from your problems with your father?"
"Tony", Ziva's voice was low and threatening, but Tony didn't let her interrupt him.
"That's why you don't want to get married, right? 'Cause not being bound to me makes running away so much easier. L.A., Mossad, that are all your back up plans, just in case. You know what, I'm sick of you always holding a back door open, ready to leave any minute. I'm done talking you into this relationship, feeling like you're just waiting for something better to come your way-" *smack*
Tony felt where her hand had just slapped him. Tears were brimming in Ziva's eyes.
"Face it, Ziva." Tony's voice had calmed down from the rage he'd talked himself into. "You trust me with your life and the life of our son. But you never trusted me with your heart. I know your life was not perfect. Hell, who's life is? But I believe that under the right incentive people can change. I changed. I grew up. Maybe it's time for you to do the same."
Tony sighed and fell down onto the bed as he heard the front door being shut forcefully. Fuck. Then, just as he wanted to roll over and at least try to sleep, he heard the tapping of little feet.
"Daddy?" Fuck. Tony turned to face the door and his omni-present smile was back in place.
"Hey champion. What are you doing out of bed?" He sat up and gestured for Ben to come closer.
"Where's Mummy?" Ben asked, as he crawled onto the bed and into his father's lap.
"Mummy's gone for a run. She'll be back in a bit." Tony stood up with Ben in his arms and made his way over to the door. "Come on, we have to get to you back to bed."
Ben snuggled into his father and laid his head under Tony's chin. "Don't want bed, want ice-cream." Tony chuckled. Ziva's kid after all.
"No can do. It's not even breakfast time, Ben. We're going back to bed." Tony lightly kicked the door to his son's room open, his eyes widening at it's state of chaos. "And tomorrow, we're going to clean your room. What do you say to that?"
"Hm…" Ben's answer was rather non-descript, but Tony attributed that to his already half-asleep state when he lowered him to his bed and arranged the covers around him.
"Daddy?" Okay, so maybe it had been the typical David-avoidance tactic. "Were you fighting b'cause o' me?"
Tony lowered himself to his son's level and stroked over his head. "No Ben. Never. You are the cherry on top of the sundae of awesomeness that is our life."
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When her tears as well as her rage had subsided and Ziva managed the door to the apartment, she found Tony in the living room, waiting for her.
"Ziva-" but she held up her hand as she stood in the doorway, eyeing him sitting on the very edge of the couch ready to jump up any moment.
"I'm tired of fighting with you, Tony. And I hate that it always ends with me at gunpoint, marry you or break your heart." Tony got up at her words, cautiously taking a few steps towards her when he noticed she wouldn't use one of her many concealed weapons right away. When they stood face to face he even dared to touch her, cup her face with both of his hands.
"Ziva, what I said-"
"Is what you wanted to tell me for a long time, no?"
Tony shook his head. "No. I was just angry at everybody, at the world. And I'm sorry I took that out on you."
She had known that. Or rather suspected it, after her tears had subsided some. Needing the partner to vent was nothing new for them after all. Just that their coping method had changed. From physical contact, the best example being three years old now, to verbal sparring. The scars less visible but yet somehow harder to heal and conceal.
He had been right, Ziva concluded. Tony really had grown. Her hands caressed his on her neck. "What were you angry about?"
He sighed. "Gibbs, for assigning me a Probie. McGee for throwing yet another fight. Abby for not being here. Myself, mostly."
Ziva leaned forward and softly brushed her lips against his. "I would not have taken the job in L.A."
"I-"
"And never", Ziva said vehemently, "chose Johnny Walker over me. I'm the jealous type."
Tony smiled ruefully, before capturing her lips again, more forcefully, his hands gliding down her body. "Why is it", asked Ziva when she pulled back, "that we solve every conflict we have with sex?"
"Oh come on, Zee" Tony moaned from where his mouth was busy kissing her neck, "don't tell me you don't like it."
Ziva laughed, before giving him a final kiss and disentangling herself. "You are right. I like it. Just as much as I like a hot shower after taking a run." She left Tony standing in the open living room and made her way into the hallway, over to the bathroom. "You coming?"