A/N: Hey! I hope everyone had a Happy Holiday and good New Year! I know that the last chapter was VERY poorly written and EXCEPTIONALLY short. Hopefully, this will make up for it. Sorry about any mistakes. I don't have a Beta. Please R&R! :D
Disclaimer: I did not get NCIS for Christmas. :(
"Tony?"
He could tell by her voice that she was confused. Not that he blamed her. After all, they had seen each other ten minutes ago.
"Yeah, It's me," he answered unnecessarily.
"Are you in trouble?"
"Kind of."
"Where are you? Are you hurt? What the heck happened? Should I call Gibbs?" Her tone told him that she was worried and his immediate answer to each question was fundamental.
"Not that kind of trouble," he stated softly.
"Oh."
After that they just listened to each other breathe. Mice could not have been more silent. It seemed to be a neither awkward nor comfortable silence. How long they remained this way: Neither knew for hey had long ago lost track of time. They simply remained, unable to speak or hang-up, unable to do anything.
"Tony," Ziva said unsure of what to really say because she could not see him, nor did she know what happened, "do you need something?"
"Could you come over?" He asked quietly; the embarrassment evident in his voice.
On the other end Ziva smiled softly. Tony almost expected her to make some sly comment about Tony DiNozzo, the player, being uncomfortable when talking to a woman, but the remark never came.
Instead he received: "Sure, I'll be right there."
Knowing that "be right there" for Ziva was pretty literal, he abandoned all pretences of changing, and forced himself to be satisfied with the simple removal of his jacked and shoes. Sure enough, right as he was hanging up his suit jacket, he heard someone picking the lock. Expecting her to just come right on in, he didn't bother getting the door. She never entered. The door was unlocked, but she was not entering his abode. Confused, he walked up to the door and looked through the peephole. Well, it was definitely her, but she wasn't acting like her. Ziva's hand clutched the door knob, and she was chewing on her bottom lip, contemplating something. Her expression changed as she changed her mind. For a split second, Tony thought that she was going to leave, but to his surprise, she knocked instead. He opened the door without delay. Ziva sighed in an annoyed manner when she noticed that he was looking at her like she was crazy.
"Why did you not just open the door?"
"Why didn't you just come in?" He questioned in the same manner of which she has used when regarding him.
"I did not know if Jeanne was here," stated Ziva as her eyes darted around the room in search of Tony's French-American girlfriend.
"Why would I matter if Jeanne was here?" He asked suddenly vexed with the fact that his relationship with one person had such a large affect on his other relationships.
"Well, she didn't seem too pleased at dinner, and I figured that it would only upset her more if I simply tangoed in."
"Waltzed, Ziva, it's 'Waltzed in', and you're welcome here anytime that you feel like. Especially, if I asked you to come in the first place. Forget about what Jeanne thinks," he spat out bitterly.
Rolling her eyes at his correction of her English, yet still committing the correct word to her memory, Ziva drew her eyebrows together as she asked, "Tony, what happened?"
"Ugh," he groaned as he walked inside followed closely by Ziva, "We got into a fight."
He plopped down onto the couch, and Ziva sat millimeters away from him with her now shoeless feet underneath her legs. She placed a gentle hand on his arm, silently willing him to continue.
"She said that she needs time, and I guess she is jealous of or relationship, or something. She doesn't seem to understand that I can still be friends with you and date her at the same time," he retold he story; he aggravation was ostensible in his voice.
"And I miss Kate," he confided in her, his voice barely above a whisper.
His last statement made her tense. They never talked about Kate. Ever. That subject was WAY off limits in their relationship. Ziva was always afraid about what would happen to them if he found out about Ari.
He must have noticed her discomfort for he was quick to assure her: "Not that I don't love you, Ziva, but Kate was like my sister. I just really miss her."
Ziva understood the feeling. After all, she had been disorientated all week because of the loss of her brother. It made it all so much worse knowing that she was the one to put a bullet through his head. It was still hard so hard comprehend how her once sweet, caring, talented, amazing brother caused so many people – good people, whom she had come to love, nonetheless – so much pain.
Tony looked like he was going to cry. Ziva hated seeing him like this. The ex-assassin began to feel disgusted with herself. Her brother had turned into a terrible person, but was she not worse? She had not flinched at killing her own blood – her family. Did hat not make her just as bad? And now she was lying to her new "family". In a way she caused them almost as much pain as Ari. Now, she felt like crying because seeing Tony look so broken and in so much pain scared her, and she missed her brother regardless of his awful deeds.
"I am so sorry, Tony." Her voice cracked as she said this causing Tony to look up at her with concerned eyes.
"He was not always bad. There – There was a time when he never would have done something like that. I should have seen it com – coming though. Perhaps, if I had noticed it, and talked to him sooner –" Her breathing was raspy and uneven as she tried to force the words out of her mouth.
Ziva had always seemed so solid. She was a rock; nothing could penetrate her. But now that rock was cracking and crumbling. Her walls had been eroded away.
"Zi," he uttered gently.
He attempted to embrace her, but she jerked away from him whilst shaking her head fiercely. The agent's face showed his hurt; however, his primal instinct to protect the small Israeli was so strong that he tried again, even though he knew that it would be extremely easy for her to cause him bodily harm. He succeeded. Pulling the deploring woman onto his lap, so that she was straddling it, he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. The once-upon-a-time playboy smoothed out the liaison's wild hair hat was now toppling down her back.
She wailed into his shirt. What mascara she was wearing now stained the front of the overly expensive white shirt. He could feel the tears seeping through his currently soaking shirt and onto his skin. Each tear, each cry of pain and grief, felt like a thousand knives ripping his heart apart.
"I – am – a – monster," she cried between gasps.
"You are not a monster, Ziva. Don't ever think that."
"I killed him!"
Her sobs worsened with each passing second.
"My – My brother!"
Tony had never known that she had a brother. Her little sister, Tali – Yes. A brother – No.
"It's okay. It's all going to be all right," he promised.
"Ari! Ari!" she bawled.
Tony tensed against her at the thought of the man who had taken Kate's life. His sudden coldness only caused her to cry harder.
Forcing his muscles to relax, he asked, "I thought – I thought Gibbs killed him?"
He could feel her head her head shake against him as she pressed it into his chest ever so much harder as though being closer to him would take away all the pain of her loss. Tony sat there, mouth agape at this revelation. Ziva had killed Ari. All of those times when they shut her out, when Abby made snide, cruel remarks about or to her and Tony never stopped her from saying them even though Ziva was his partner, or when they talked about how much they all hated Ari, she could have rebutted every single one, yet she never did. He felt a self-loathing take over.
"Why?" he found himself asking even though he held no right o know.
"He –he was – going to – kill Gibbs."
The sentence was broken and choppy due to her sharp intakes of breath, but it still hit Tony like a ton of bricks. Ziva had killed her brother, someone whom she had known her whole life; someone she loved, for Gibbs, whom she wasn't even on a first name basis with at the time.
"Oh God, Ziva."
He wrapped his arms tightly around her fit body. He hated himself. It was official, he absolutely despised himself. He felt sick: Literally and physically sick when he realized, he had protected her from outsiders, but never from the insiders. He had allowed Abby to hate her, looked the other way when Abby had accused Ziva of not caring about Gibbs when he had gotten injured, had let her sit behind a wall when she first came, so that they could not see her until they were ready to accept that Kate was gone, and never once had it ever crossed their – his – mind to ask her how she was feeling about losing her colleague . . . even worse, her brother, too. Yes, he truly hated himself.
Her sobs had quieted significantly, so the two investigators just sat there. Periodically, Tony would feel a few more tears soak through his shirt. Sometimes, he would feel her shake or hear her gasp. Occasionally, the three would merge together, but it never got any worse than that. You could have heard a pin drop, yet it was a comfortable silence.
Tony continued to stoke her hair or rub her back. Her breathing deepened, and eventually her rather loud snores filled the room. Tony smiled at her "drunken sailor" snores, and continued on to press a light kiss on the top of her head. He permitted his eyes to close, resting his chin on her head.
He was half asleep when the door opened. He was about to stand up, but Ziva let out a subconscious whimper as her fists tightened around his shirt.
"Don't worry, Ziva, I'm just going to see who's at the here," he informed her.
However, before he even attempted to get up his questioned was answered:
"Tony, I think I might have jumped the gun. Maybe w – WHAT THE HECK?" She screeched at the sight of the jean and t-shirt clad 'ninja' and Tony.
Ziva awoke at her outburst. Her reflexes kicked in, and she endeavored to leap to her feet, but Tony's strong arms had unknowingly wound their way securely back around her at the first sign of a "threat". Acting as bounds, they inhibited her from doing so causing her to crash half on top of him and half on the floor instead of gracefully landing on her feet. As he released/helped her up, Jeanne continued to glare at them. She opened her mouth to say something when the fiasco was finished, but Tony raised a hand to stop her.
Placing his mouth by Ziva's ear, he whispered, "Hey, you need sleep, so while I sort out his whole mess I want to you to go into my room and sleep. There are sweats and basketball shorts in the second draw on the left, and some old shirts or sweatshirts in the one above it if you want to change."
"Tony, I should probably just leave," she responded back jus as quietly.
"Ziva, I am serious. You really need to sleep. You wouldn't have fallen asleep two seconds ago if you didn't. Knowing you, you probably wouldn't have even old me that if it weren't such an off week and you weren't so tired. So just go ahead and sleep in my room. Besides, I don't want you driving home until I am completely sure that you are all right."
The look on his face told her not to argue anymore. Nodding obediently, she made her way to the proper door. She paused for a final moment to throw one last look over her shoulder before disappearing from sight.
Tony and Jeanne waited for the click of the door, which would signal that it was officially closed, prior to begging their battle against each other.
"DID YOU LIE TO ME?"
"No," Tony replied in a calmer, yet just as forceful tone, "I didn't lie to you. You are the only person I am dating, but you are not the only person I care about."
The venom in his voice as he annunciated the last words was thunder striking.
"Tell me what she means to you," she demanded.
The lack of reply only made her more enraged.
"TELL ME!"
"I DON'T KNOW ALL RIGHT! I DON'T FREAKIN' KNOW! IS THAT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?" Tony fumed.
"Then give me your best guess," she commanded coldly.
"She's just . . . Ziva."
"WELL, WHAT IN GOD'S NAME DOES THAT MEAN?"
"How do you expect me to describe my relationship with Ziva to you if I don't even understand it?"
"How can you not know what someone means to you?"
"Whatever it is that Ziva and I have it," Tony paused, choosing his next words carefully, before continuing, "Well, it doesn't fit a strict definition. She's my best friend. I love her and I hate her. We annoy each other to death, but I don't think I could live without her. Okay, so I do most of the annoying part. Ziva only gets under my skin when she does something stupid or refuses to let me in, but that's just her nature," he admitted.
I would never trade her for anything. I don't know what I would do without her."
At least he is being honest, Jeanne thought before asking, "So, where does this leave us?"
"I really like you; I may even love you, but if what you want for this relationship means that I have to change my relationship, whatever that may be, with Ziva, then it would be best if you just left right now."
Jeanne shifted uneasily from foot to foot as she reflected on the situation.
"Before I say anything, I need you to tell me the absolute truth about what you meant when you said that you loved her."
"I can't. It's undeniable that I love her. It's impossible not to; however, I haven't figured out what type of love I mean when I say 'I love her'."
In the back of his mind he thought that he might have a good idea after the daydream he had earlier about his future, but he told himself that it was just because she was there with him at the time. This time, though, he found it harder to accept what he was telling himself. Much harder.
"Ok . . . That's a lot of I-don't-knows."
"It comes with the territory."
"I think I might have overreacted. Maybe we should try this again. After all, if she was that upset about something then it's possible that you really were just concerned about her," she decided with gesture of her hand to the rivers of mascara and tears on his shirt.
"We're good then?"
"We are fine," she responded before breaking out into a smile.
Tony was surprised to discover that he was less enthused – disappointed even – then he thought he would be. He was only glad that his mission wasn't ruined.
"Perhaps we, Ziva and I, that is, shout try to get to know each other again," she suggested.
Tony inwardly groaned knowing that it would only lead to more complications.
"That would be great," he forced out sounding only semi-thrilled.
"Why did you say it like that?"
"Well, I just don't think that tonight is the best night," he covered, "It might be better some other night."
Like never, he added in his head.
"Well, don't be an idiot! Of course, I didn't mean tonight! It's late, I think all of us are exhausted, and after whatever went down tonight, it's obvious that this is not the right time."
"Right, what was I thinking?" He joked stiffly.
"Perfect! I have tomorrow off, and it's Saturday, so you should too. We'll do it then!"
"Tomorrow? Are you serious?" Tony questioned in disbelief.
"Why not tomorrow? It could be weeks before we get another chance where all of us have off. Besides, I want to get the whole mess that was tonight behind us as soon as possible," she added with a shrug of her shoulders.
Tony compelled a smile to appear on his face. Her face brightened as a result. Tony waited for the young doctor to say something. She remained silent. He started to look around as if something to say would appear out of thin air.
"So . . ."
"So, are we going to sleep?" The doctor inquired as she motioned to the room in which Ziva slept peacefully. (Luckily, the firmly shut door blocked out most of her snoring.)
"Ziva's in there," Tony answered her question as thought the notion of letting Ziva sleep as long as she wanted whether he was tired or not was the palpable answer.
"It's our room."
"Your point?"
"I, kind of, feel like sleeping in my own bed."
"We have a couch . . . Ziva needs the bed."
"Doesn't she have her own bed?"
"But she needs sleep more than we do, and I don't want to wake her."
"Ok. Only one of us can fit on the couch."
"Valid point. I'll take the floor," the Italian-American Investigator resolved.
Jeanne gave an indignant huff before accepting what was happening and grabbing blankets and pillows from the closet in the hall.
They set up their sleeping areas prior to lying down. Tony, despite the discomfort he felt, was asleep within mere seconds. The slightly insulted woman followed suit shortly after.
A/N: Ok. Chapter 9! Sorry, it took a while. Just got back. I hope that you like this chapter, and the next will hopefully be up soon. BTW, in the next chapter there will be a visit from one of Tony's old friends. Hopefully, the prospect of that will keep you reading even if I am a very inconstant updater. Oh, well, I hope you liked it. Please review.
