Engaged Pt 1.
Watching her throw things into her duffle bag makes the restless feeling in his stomach that started at NCIS return full force.
When Gibbs announced that Ziva was going with him, Tim had stared at her. He hadn't been too worried, until it became apparent that Ziva was actually accepting and would be going to Afghanistan with their boss. Then the fear had set in, and the bargaining. He had caught Gibbs on his way out of NCIS, when Ziva had already left to pack, and tried to talk the man into changing his mind, only to get a "you'll get it, some day" and a pat on the shoulder before the older man left him standing in the bullpen.
"Are you even listening to me?" Ziva's voice cuts through his thoughts and he shakes his head to clear it.
"Sorry. You were saying?"
His partner frowns lightly and shakes her head, turning to her dresser again and going through drawers.
"I was asking if you have seen my blue sweater. The one with the small pocket sewn on the arm." she repeats, making him frown.
"What do you need a sweater for, you're going to Afghanistan." Tim mutters and Ziva turns around at the sound of his voice.
"Nights are cold in the desert." she reminds him and sighs, throwing her duffle bag from the bed and starting to fold the remaining clothes on the bed to put them back into her dresser. Tim slowly walks over to her and picks up a khaki shirt. He holds it up and suddenly remembers that he had bought it for her. Or rather, he had lend her the money for it when she first came back to NCIS and couldn't access her accounts because she had been declared dead in Israel and her accounts were frozen.
"Mind if I take this?" he asks her, holding it up. Ziva furrows her brows.
"I know I like to sleep in your shirts when I miss you, but I doubt you'll fit into this." she teases. "I'm rather fond of it, so-" she trails of when he averts his eyes, tracing the yellow letters on it. "Tim?" Ziva breathes, but he doesn't look up. He hears her walk around and then she's suddenly next to him, gently taking the shirt from his hands.
"I wasn't going to wear it, I just-" he starts but she cuts him off with her finger on his lips. When she removes it, she holds up a navy blue scarf, this time a real present. He gave her that one for Thanksgiving last year. Before he can take it, Ziva turns and sprays some perfume on the cloth, shaking it out before handing it to him.
"There." she merely says. "Should be easier to wrap around a pillow."
Tim blinks at her, tears welling up in his eyes and before he knows it, he has her in a bone crushing hug.
"I'm gonna miss you." he breathes into her hair and feels her hold on him tighten.
"Me, too." she mutters, rubbing her nose on his neck.
"Promise me you'll be careful. Please, Ziva, I don't care about statistics, just, tell me you'll look out for yourself."
"Hey, look at me." she demands, letting go of him and leaning back. She takes his face into her hands, holding him in place so she can look deeply into his eyes. "I love you, Tim. And if you think for one second that I will ever endanger what we have by biting the dust, then you are not half as intelligent as I thought you were."
Despite himself, he can't help but give a weak smile at her attempt at humor. Her eyes are sparkling with amusement before she sobers significantly. "I am serious. I will watch out. I have been a soldier, I know what I am doing." she assures him, drawing him down to kiss him. Tim gives a soft sniffle before hugging her close again, letting go of the scarf in favor of being able to slips his hands under her shirt and run them over the skin of her back.
"Are you done packing?" he mutters against her lips and feels her nod.
"Mostly, yeah." Ziva murmurs, starting to unbutton his shirt and run her hands over his newly exposed skin.
"You can take that with you, if you want." he offers her, knowing she'd never ask for an item of his clothing to take with her.
"Already stole your MIT shirt." she admits before brushing his shirt off his shoulders, her hands going for the buckle of his belt next. "Now shut up."
That's an order he'll gladly obey.