Today's prompt: Ferris wheel, and "Just pretend to be my date."
Tiva, was supposed to be fake dating fluff, turned significantly less fun because my writing was interrupted yesterday, and I had to finish the rest today while I was clearly in a different frame of mind.
Almost ten minutes had passed between Tony's text signaling his arrival to pick her up and her pulling the door closed behind her. During this time she had been trying to get away from her 85-year-old neighbor, Betty, without hurting the woman's feelings. A month ago the elderly woman got it into her head that Ziva and her grandson would make the perfect couple. Ziva was running out of excuses as to why that wouldn't work, without sharing information she did not want to share, or telling Betty to mind her own business.
Generally she preferred to tell the truth, often rather bluntly. Tony had called her out on not having any tact a few months ago. She glanced at her watch, he would probably torment her for running late for the rest of the day.
"And I already bought tickets for the Ferris wheel, oh it's just so romantic don't you think?"
Betty stared up at her, kind eyes behind gold rimmed glasses. Ziva had lost track of the conversation after telling her for the third time that her partner was waiting for her outside. Did Betty have a date? Now she felt bad for not paying attention.
"Um, yes, very romantic," Ziva agreed.
"Wonderful, I'll go get the tickets."
Betty disappeared back into her apartment, leaving Ziva behind with her mouth agape. What had she just agreed to? She checked her watch again, considered bolting for the stairs and later explaining that there had been an emergency at work, when the elevator doors slid open and Tony walked out.
She signaled him to come closer faster, glancing inside the apartment suspiciously.
"I thought you'd fallen down the elevator shaft or something," he said with a crooked smile.
She looked at him blankly, briefly forgetting the new plan that had formed in her head. "So you took the elevator even though it might crush me," she deadpanned.
A drawer slamming shut, and shuffling coming from the apartment, brought her back to her current predicament.
Tony's smirk faded as his eyes narrowed. "What's the hold-up?"
She grabbed him by the tie so she could whisper in his ear. "Just pretend to be my date."
Betty walked out with an exuberant, "I found them," at that very moment. Ziva turned to look at her, her cheek now firmly pressed against Tony's, feeling her face flush and wondering how she had survived years as a Mossad officer, only to be thwarted by an 85-year-old with a blue rinse.
Tony snaked an arm around her middle and kissed her temple. As the touch of his soft lips lingered, she had the sneaking suspicion she was going to regret this charade.
Betty's face fell for a split second, then her hands, holding two tickets, clenched before her chest as she regarded them affectionately. "Oh, sweetie, why didn't you tell me you meant boyfriend when you said partner?"
"Ziva doesn't like labels," Tony chimed in before she had a chance to reply, making her hackles rise. She was definitely going to regret this.
"She also doesn't like PDA, thinks it's embarrassing," he stage whispered at Betty from behind his hand.
Ziva narrowed her eyes at him, and he surprised her with a kiss on the lips. Her lips kissed him back seemingly on their own volition, and she was really regretting this now, because the kiss was over in a matter of seconds. Because he would never kiss her again as soon as they said goodbye to Betty. Because never feeling his lips again was something she didn't even want to consider.
She licked her lips self-consciously after he pulled away, then looked at Betty apologetically.
"Oh, I'm so happy you have someone to share your life with, sweetie, that's all I wanted." Betty beamed at her. "And look at you," she cooed, patting Tony's cheek with the flat of her hand. "You look so in love." She turned her attention back to Ziva. "It's been a long time since anyone's looked at me the way he looks at you."
Ziva caught Tony glance at her and swallow hard, before letting out an uncomfortable chuckle. What was that about? Tony was one of the best at maintaining his cover, why was he slipping?
Betty thrust the tickets into Ziva's hands, made them both promise to go that night and wished them a wonderful romance filled evening.
They walked into the elevator in silence. She glanced at the tickets, felt bad for lying to Betty, then glanced at Tony, and felt even worse for opening a can of worms she thought she had locked away for good.
"I can't believe someone calls you sweetie and gets away with it," Tony said, lips twitching into a smile.
She rolled her eyes, mind hard at work shoving the memory of what those lips felt like back into the compartment it never should have left. Especially not now.
"She is kind, and she made me feel at home when I moved in here," Ziva defended herself.
The soft expression on his face made her nervous, so she looked away and busied herself with tucking away the two tickets that would go unused.
"Don't lose those."
"Why?" She eyed the floor indicator, wondered whether the elevator was always this slow.
"Because we'll need them later, for our romance-filled evening." He tilted his head. "I always thought Ferris wheel rides were really romantic."
She frowned, was this payback for pulling him into this situation. Rubbing her earlobe, she looked away and laughed quickly, feeling trapped in the small box that may as well have stopped moving all together now.
And it did when he flicked the emergency switch, the metal scraping of the elevators breaks making her muscles twitch. She needed some time, and distance between them to be able to fall back on their usual banter and reign in her emotions.
He offered neither when he stepped closer and placed his hands on her cheeks. She had an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach; after returning to America she had avoided any kind of relationship, still dealing with trust issues. A year ago she would have relished the thought of him getting back at her like this, now it left her nauseous and on the verge of a panic attack.
His touch became feathery light, hands barely there, his thumbs brushing her cheeks, helping her step away from the edge she was teetering on.
He kissed her softly, fleetingly.
"What was that?" She asked hoarsely.
His eyes clouded with pain. He smiled sadly as his hands fell to his sides. "Well, if you have to ask, it can't have been very good."
She frowned, reading him while her own emotions were all over the place was impossible.
"Wrong time, wrong place." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess stuck in an elevator is nowhere near as romantic as stuck in a gondola on a warm moonlit night."
She rubbed her forehead, he didn't appear to be mocking her, but then why was he...
He flicked the emergency switch and the elevator resumed its descend while he stared at the metal door and clenched his jaw.
She blinked rapidly and shook her head, "What are you saying?"
He scoffed, and this time his tone did turn sarcastic. "Who even knows, I like the sound of my own voice, remember?"
His words stung like a slap in the face. All she wanted to do was get off this emotional roller coaster and out of this cage, but the way his shoulders slumped told her there was more at stake.
She touched his forearm, silently imploring him to look at her. When he finally did, briefly, he let out that uncomfortable chuckle from earlier in the hallway, before glancing away.
He fussed with his tie and met her gaze again. "I guess I got carried away." A self-deprecating smile on his lips, he continued, "You know me and undercover relationships."
She tensed realizing he hadn't been trying to antagonize her at all. Unsure of how to deal with the emotions that seemed to be bouncing off the walls of the small elevator cab she looked away. How did she go from trying to avoid a romantic relationship with her neighbor's grandson, to her partner—the man who she had given up on being anything more than that years ago—basically admitting he did in fact want more.
The elevator came to a stop and a cold fear gripped her heart. If she let him walk out now, she would always wonder…
A touch on his arm stopped him dead in his tracks. He looked down at her, hurt, embarrassed.
"I…" She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head slightly. Her hand slipped from his arm to his hand, gripping it tightly while trying to gather her thoughts, her feelings, and the right words to stop this from ruining their friendship, and whatever else they could have.
"Ziva," he said softly, ready to dismiss whatever she had to say.
"No, just…" She looked up at him, and bit her bottom lip. He had that guarded look in his eyes, the one she had seen before, the one that had made her build her own walls just a little bit higher. But that was then, and now her walls were nothing more than a pile of rubble she tried to hide behind, pretending nothing had changed. Pretending she hadn't changed.
How could she tell him how she felt when she was not ready to act on those feelings. He had already done so much for her, she could not ask him to be patient while she figured out her new life.
He had told her once that her eyes wouldn't shut up. She prayed that was the case now, that he could make some sense of the ugly mess her life had turned into, but that she cared for him deeply despite it all.
The curtain of caution that had covered his eyes lifted, and he nodded slightly, a soft smile on his lips.
She drew in a shaky breath, relieved that, for now, they would be okay. He lifted her hand to his face and gently kissed it, a promise in his eyes. Her heart raced and she felt a lightness, a boldness, that she had not felt in months.
Digging into her bag blindly with her free hand, eyes never straying from his, she pulled out the tickets. "I am not sure the night will be…filled with romance…" She shrugged slightly glancing away.
Taking one of the tickets, his thumb drew circles on her hand. "It will be whatever it will be."
A sense of calm washed over her, whatever happened in the past, whatever would happen in the future, they were going to be okay.
He gave her hand another squeeze, winked, and pressed the button to open the elevator doors. "Just so you know, I'm totally throwing you under the bus if Gibbs complains that we're late."
