A/N: My profuse apologies dear readers! My muse inexplicably fled in the middle of this chapter and I was only just able to make it work today. But now it's up and I hope it is worth the wait. Just another snapshot from Tony and Ziva's two weeks as roommates. Thanks! :)
Saturday morning looked a little different when Tony and Ziva woke up. They lay in the bed facing each other, the only part of them touching was their hands. Tony had never let go of Ziva's hand while she showed him just a few of her scars, and after awhile, Ziva realized she didn't want him to.
Again it was Ziva who opened her eyes first, smiling at the man who lay across from her, his mouth slightly open as he slept. Reaching over, Ziva barely touched Tony's face, then carefully disentangled her hand from his and got up to see to her run. When she arrived back at the apartment forty-five minutes later, she was not surprised to find her roommate still asleep, now sprawled out and taking over the entire bed. She shook her head at him and went to have a shower.
Ziva took her time in the shower, enjoying the luxury of hot, clean water and scented soap. Rarely had she been allowed to bathe in Somalia, and then it had been dirty water they'd thrown on her after she'd been stripped with others looking on. Just another method of humiliation.
Watching the water swirl down the drain, Ziva imagined the invisible filth of Somalia, all the dark memories, going down with it and washing away. She smiled as she thought about the weekend stretching before them, wondering what she and Tony would do this time.
Stepping out of the steamy shower, Ziva wrapped a towel around herself before rubbing her hair down and taking a brush to it. She was amazed that she could get ready like this and still be at ease, even though Tony was only in the next room, with just a closed door between them. Usually he did not stay in the bedroom while she showered and dressed.
The thought of getting dressed stopped Ziva short. Standing there in a towel she suddenly realized she forgot to bring her clothes into the bathroom. She looked around aimlessly, but no clothing magically appeared. Biting her lip, Ziva walked slowly to the door, turned the knob silently, and peeked through the crack.
Tony lay face down on the bed now, still dead to the world, his back moving rhythmically up and down as he breathed. Considering her options, Ziva realized she had none. But if Tony were to wake up and see her in just this, she would feel naked, more vulnerable that she had last night showing him only a few of her scars. Many more were visible now.
Deciding she had to take a chance, Ziva dashed out quickly, grabbed the duffle bag that lay near her side of the bed, and hurried back into the bathroom and locked the door, trembling from the adrenaline. Then she laughed quietly at her needless fears and finished her morning routine.
NCIS
Tony had a hard time falling asleep late Friday night, or rather, very early Saturday morning. Those moments with Ziva when all their walls were down and none of their feelings were hidden, had been the most intimate experience he could ever remember. And for a guy who's past experience equated intimacy with physical stuff, that was saying a lot.
After he'd "kissed her scars better", so to speak, Ziva had looked at him as if she could see into his soul, before she laid down and fell asleep, exhausted from the emotion. Tony hadn't been able to move, looking at their hands still joined and the shirt sleeve she'd finally pulled down, wondering what the heck he was supposed to do next.
At last he'd joined her in laying down, but his eyes never left her face, finally peaceful as she slept, and he didn't know w hen he'd drifted off himself. Now he knew nothing but deep, dreamless sleep until he felt something fall on his head. Carelessly, he moved one hand to brush it away.
Ziva was feeling playful this morning, a quality she had been sure she would never know again. Tilting the cup slightly, she drizzled a thin stream of water onto Tony's hair, smirking when he tried to brush it away as one would a fly. When she came out of the bathroom ready to face the day and found him still asleep, Ziva decided it was high time he got up.
"To-nyyy," she said softly, drawing his name out, this moment reminiscent of their undercover assignment that seemed like a hundred years ago. He still wasn't awake so Ziva frowned and dripped more water, this time on his neck.
With a start, Tony's eyes snapped open. "Huh? What? Yeah Boss, I..." he squinted at her. "Ziva? What are you doing?"
She raised one eyebrow at him, assuming the answer was obvious. "Waking you up," Ziva said matter-of-factly.
Tony rubbed his neck and found it wet. Sniffing the liquid cautiously, he decided it was safe. Spying the glass in Ziva's hand, he glared. "Playing dirty?"
"This water is quite clean actually." Then she shrugged. "It is time to get up."
"I'm up," he groused, pulling himself into a sitting position and dangling his legs over the side of the bed. "Ohh," Tony groaned, "what time is it?"
Ziva's eyes flitted to the clock. "1030."
His eyebrows jumped up. "Whoa. How late did you sleep?"
She looked sheepish. "09."
"Sleeping in Ziva?" Tony asked with a wicked grin.
"Not as much as you," she returned promptly, then started to pull the covers back up on the bed.
Tony shook his head. "Don't worry about it Zi, today is laundry day."
She eyed the overflowing clothes hamper beside his dresser. "I think it is past laundry day Tony."
"Haha, yeah," he laughed. "Well, last weekend we were busy doing other stuff. I usually try to do laundry on Saturday or Sunday each week."
Ziva grinned at him. "I did not know you were domesticated."
"Hey, I can cook, can't I?" Tony protested.
"If it involves pasta or take out, yes," she teased.
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Watch it lady, or I won't make you something special for breakfast."
Ziva appeared to be thinking seriously about that. "How special?" she asked.
Tony crossed his arms and smiled. "Waffles with whipped cream, syrup, and strawberry or blueberry sauce."
Her eyes lit up. "I will be nice."
He chuckled. "That's what I thought. Come on."
One arched eyebrow asked a clear question before she voiced it. "Are you not going to get dressed Tony?"
He shrugged. "After. If I make a mess at least these pyjamas already need to be washed."
Conceding to his logic, Ziva followed Tony out to the kitchen.
NCIS
After breakfast, and Ziva had to admit that Tony's waffles were definitely worth being nice for, she and Tony headed back to the bedroom to collect everything that needed to be washed. Tony was half in and half out of his laundry hamper, trying to get the socks on the bottom, when he threw an idea out to her.
"Hey Ziva," he called, "do you want to throw your things in with mine, or would your rather do a separate load?" It seemed like a simple question to him. But when she didn't answer, Tony stood up to find her standing in the doorway, arms full of bath towels, looking very uncertain. "Did you hear me Zi?"
"I heard," she said slowly, then sighed. "I know it is extra, but I would prefer to do my clothes alone." Having Tony see and even touch her bras and underwear would be too much too soon. She was embarrassed enough just thinking about it.
"No trouble," Tony assured her, seeing something in her expression he didn't understand. Apparently it was a big deal after all.
They stripped the bed together - mattress cover, sheets, blanket, and pillowcases - then dumped all the dirty laundry in the center of the bed and sorted it into piles. Light, dark, and coloured. Tony set aside the things that needed to be dry cleaned and then he and Ziva each took an armload of the dark clothes down the hall to put in the washer.
With laundry started, Tony looked pleadingly at the TV and Ziva gave in a with a roll of her eyes. "Fine Tony. What do you want to watch?"
He grinned. "Today being a Saturday, I think some Mysterious Ways is in order."
Ziva's brow wrinkled. "What is 'Mysterious Ways'?"
"It's this great TV show from the early 2000s. This professor, his braniac best friend, and their psychiatrist pal work together to investigate 'miraculous phenomenon'." She was about the ask another question when Tony shook his head. "I can't explain it any more Ziva, you're just going to have to watch it for yourself and see."
Plopping down on the couch, Ziva crossed her arms and stretched her legs out to rest on the coffee table. "I am ready."
"Awesome." He plucked a DVD off the shelf and put it in the player, joining Ziva on the couch and sitting just a fraction closer than he had been last night.
NCIS
A couple hours later Tony's laundry was done, with only minor interruptions to their TV watching. Ziva had her second load in the washer, the first in the dryer. A clothes basket sat on the couch between them and neat piles of laundry were collecting on the end tables, floor, and coffee table.
Ziva stuck to folding safe things like t-shirts, socks, and undershirts, leaving any personal clothing to Tony and pretending like she didn't see them at all. On the other side of the couch, Tony was trying to keep a silly grin off his face as he watched Ziva's fingers nimbly match and roll all his socks, and carefully fold each t-shirt into a neat square. He was sure he'd feel the heat from her fingers still on his clothes every time he got dressed from now on.
Finally all that was left was the towels and bedding. It took the two of them only a few minutes to fold everything neatly and then Tony carried everything down the hall to put in his linen closet, pulling out a fresh sheet set and blanket while he was there. Ziva carefully transferred each pile of clothes into the basket and propped it on her hip as she walked back to the bedroom.
Once there, she left the basket by Tony's dresser and joined him at the bed. Tony looked over at her and grinned. "Guess we better make this so we have somewhere to sleep tonight."
Ziva nodded in agreement, though she thought maybe Tony was enjoying using the word "we" just a little too much. She selected the mattress cover first and their task was completed quietly, with minimal talking other than things like, "Can I have a little more sheet over here Ziva?" and "Tony, pull your corner down more."
At last they stood beside the made bed, shaking pillows into cases and smoothing out wrinkles. It was surprising how normal, how domestic their day had been. And it gave Tony another reason to hope.
NCIS
Supper was simple, just chicken and vegetables and rice with some leftover salad. Tonight's movie was Independence Day, and Ziva decided Tony must be on an alien kick right now. Partway through the movie, Tony pressed pause and turned to Ziva, eyeing her loose hair.
"Hey Zi, can I braid your hair again?"
Ziva looked at him sharply, suspicion in her expression. "Why Tony?"
He shrugged, not having expected it to be a big deal. "Well, I just learned," Tony reasoned, "and I'd hate to lose my new skill."
Ziva appeared to be thinking very hard about his request and Tony frowned, wondering what he'd done now that made her feel like she couldn't trust him to touch her. At last she sighed and shifted so her back faced him. "Alright."
Tony turned the movie back on and she held very still while he gently combed his fingers through her hair to make sure there were no tangles. Nothing could be more relaxing for Ziva, except that Tony's touching her like that put all of her nerves on high alert, and she had a hard time pretending like it wasn't a big deal.
Next Tony carefully split her hair into three sections like she'd shown him, but that was as far as he got. His fingers suddenly didn't remember what went where. "Uh Zi?" he asked. "Can you show me one more time?"
His words seemed to snap her out of wherever her head was and Ziva took the long, dark hair between her fingers, weaving it this way and that quickly. Then she shook it out and showed him again, slowly.
Tony grinned even though she couldn't see. "Oh, right." This time he confidently separated her hair and began practicing. Ziva closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers in her hair, enjoying a normal moment that could have been more if it was not them in it. Tony did three braids before he was happy with how it looked, and then completed the process twice more until Ziva declared that he passed.
Combing it loose again, she leaned back against the couch and smiled. "You are doing very well for a man with no sisters."
"Thanks, I think," he replied, edging closer and getting into a comfortable position.
Ziva focused back on the movie and within half an hour her body relaxed, her breathing indicating that she was asleep. It wasn't late yet, but a couple extra hours of sleep that morning didn't make up for two weeks of broken sleep, not yet. Tony made it through the final fight sequence, right to the reunion scene and fireworks before he too succumbed to the pull of sleep on his eyelids.
NCIS
Tony woke up an hour later, slouched on the couch, the almost familiar weight of Ziva against his arm. Her wavy hair lay splayed across his chest, her head nearly touching his shoulder. Smiling into the dark room, Tony just sat there and enjoyed the moment for a long time. But before he fell asleep again, Tony nudged Ziva's arm.
"Ziva, hey," he said quietly. "It's time for bed Ninja."
Her eyes squeezed shut a little tighter, her expression protesting his intrusion on her sleep.
Tony tried again, with a little more edge this time. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, my couch is not the best place to sleep. Let's go."
This time Ziva opened her eyes, frowning at him until she noticed how close they were. As if embarrassed, she scooted away from him and stood up. "Of course," she mumbled.
They skipped through their getting ready for bed routine and it felt nice to slip beneath clean sheets and a new blanket. Tony watched his partner's back and it was a long time before she relaxed enough to go back to sleep. He'd only just drifted off himself when he felt Ziva's body jerk.
Tony's eyes flew open and he recognized the restlessness of Level 1, the precursor to her nightmares. Not really laying that far away, he reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. Ziva immediately rolled over and Tony prepared himself to be hit, knowing her reflexes were alert before her eyes opened.
But instead she did the last thing he'd expected. She curled her body into his, her head finding a home over his heart, her left hand laying flat on his chest. Stunned, Tony didn't move, heck, he barely breathed. The only explanation he had was that she was sleeping and something about being close to him made her feel safe. Because he knew for darn certain that she would never do this when she was awake.
After a long time Tony relaxed back onto the pillow, counting minutes and waiting for her to move or to need him to wake her up. She did neither. It seemed like hours later when Tony finally got up the nerve to put one arm around her back, his other hand came to rest on her shoulder. He let out a deep breath when nothing happened. If anything, Ziva seemed to get closer, as though trying to meld right into his body.
Tony loved how well she fit against him. He knew now that it was because they belonged together, but it might be months before he could tell her that, or start warming her up to the idea at least. So Tony decided just to enjoy this while he could, holding her like this, and dreaming of the future he hoped for with Ziva. After all, in less than two days she'd be gone, and when that happened everything might change, Unless he could convince her to stay.
