Tiva, Tony-centric fluff, basically an apartment building meet cute AU, inspired by a post on tumblr and tags by Gingerstorm101.
His fingers flit over the keys, strings vibrated in the warm summer air. He needed to clear his mind, and movies wouldn't cut it this time. Keeping his touch light—it was getting late, after all, and he didn't want to disturb his neighbors—his mind wandered to one particular neighbor; the brunette he had seen hauling moving boxes into the downstairs apartment this morning. If he hadn't been so rushed he would have offered a hand. And a drink. Dinner. Who knew, he grinned. When the case was over he'd definitely want to get to know her better.
Opting not to sing aloud, he hummed the lyrics softly, wishing he'd had a chance to see Sinatra perform before his death. He would've asked him to sign one of his records. Would that have made him a geek, like McGee?
His fingers stilled and he stared into space, mind hard at work, making connections none of them had seen so far.
"The geek!" He briefly slammed the ivories in triumph, then remembered he was trying to be quiet, and called Gibbs to inform him of his breakthrough.
When he arrived home from work 36 hours later, with one deceptively innocent looking criminal behind bars, he felt hot, hungry, physically exhausted. Someone in the building had cooked up something fragrant and exotic that made his stomach protest at the prospect of the junk food he usually offered. With the swing of his front door, a note drifted into his living room. Grimacing, he dropped his bag, loosened the tie that doubled as a noose in the warm weather, and picked up the note. Mentally preparing himself to apologize to whichever neighbor had complained for his late night jam session, he turned over the note:
"A humble request to the pianist: O Mio Babbino Caro in Ab Major"
His brow wrinkled as the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. That was a nice surprise to come home to.
Opting for a much needed shower first, he placed the neatly written note on his coffee table, and looked for the sheet music on his phone, while wolfing down a bagel on his way to the bathroom.
Feeling like a functioning human being again twenty minutes later, he sat down at the piano wearing nothing but shorts. After some stretching, he rested his fingers on the keys, looking at the sheet. He was about to start playing when he realized he had no idea which neighbor had made the request. Wanting to make sure they got the most of it, he stood up and opened a window, letting in a cool breeze which carried the delicious smell from earlier in the hallway.
He sat back down at the piano, and shivered briefly as the cool air raised goose bumps on his skin. A solemn feeling filled the room, a shiver ran down his spine.
Shrugging off the sudden change in atmosphere, he sat up straighter and began to play. His fingers caressed the keys with a reverence of their own accord. While he appreciated classical music, he rarely played it, but for some reason this piece spoke to him.
His hands hovered over the keys for a few seconds after the piece ended, then he dropped them in his lap. Clapping floated in through the window. He smiled widely, enjoying the fact that he had clearly made someone happy.
Work had ended early, the good mood he had been in since yesterday hadn't ended at all. Looking for a place to park he watched a piano store delivery truck pull away from the curb. Taking advantage of the parking space, he wondered which of his neighbors had decided to get a piano.
Whistling as he bounded up the stairs, he was relieved to start the weekend early for a change. His hat landed on the coat rack with precision, and he couldn't help but mimic the Fonz. Grabbing a beer from the fridge and throwing open a window, he wondered if he should buy a lottery ticket. He took a swig from the beer, he was feeling lucky tonight.
His eyes landed on the piano as a well-known tune landed in his mind. Singing "Luck be a Lady", he half-danced towards the piano and sat down with flair. He placed the bottle on the seat beside him, not caring if it left a stain.
A tune he hadn't heard in a long time drifted in through the window, making him look up. He grinned, memories of childhood piano lessons mingled with the music lightly filling his apartment. He began to play along, ignoring the resentment one particular piano teacher had created for "Heart and Soul". The music coming from outside faltered, then resumed with a passion. He snorted, then realized with a flutter in his stomach that the music was coming from his new downstairs neighbor.
When they finished the piece, he jumped to his feet, grabbed his keys and the note with the neatly written request, and rushed downstairs. He skidded to a stop in front of her apartment, some classical piece he couldn't quite place vibrating through the door and into his soul. He knocked before knowing full well what he was doing.
The music stopped, he fussed with the note, then held it up as soon as the door opened. Her face opened like a flower in the early morning light at the sight of it.
"Thank you," she said solemnly.
He thought he caught a glint of sadness in the depth of those impossibly brown eyes, but was too distracted to pay it much attention.
"No, thank you," he insisted and introduced himself properly.
"Ziva David." She smiled warmly. "I missed lunch, so I am having an early dinner." She pointed behind her. "There is lasagna in the oven, would you like some?"
He smiled his million-dollar smile. Luck was definitely a lady tonight, he thought as she closed the door behind him.
