Disclaimer: 24 chapters and I still don't own it. Life is so unfair.
Ziva's words were barely cold when Tony's arms began moving to embrace her.
"Come here," he told her softly.
She went without complaint and she was soon comfortably settled into his lap. Just like the night he found her sitting in the rain, her legs were thrown over his with his arms wrapped tightly around her trembling body. Her face pressed into his chest as he heard her crying quietly. He felt a sense of déjà vu when he whispered nonsensical things to her in an attempt to soothe her. About a quarter of an hour later, her sobs quieted but she didn't move. Tony only kept on rubbing her back and pressing the occasional kiss to her head.
A few minutes later, she finally spoke up.
"I am sorry, Tony. We were having such a nice time and I ruin it by breaking down into a sobbing mess."
"No, you have nothing to be sorry for. You deserve to grieve. Ari might not have been the best of men, but he was still your brother. He was a nice person to you. You have every right to mourn that part of him. And I'm here for you. If you want to laugh one second and cry the next, I'll be here."
"Thank you, Tony. I do not know how many times I have said it, but I will never say it enough. So thank you."
"Always."
They were quiet again as they revelled in the closeness of the other. Both of them were very content with their positions and neither wanted to move. Tony's eyes fell on the clock on the wall and he saw that it was almost past lunch. To verify this, his stomach rumbled.
"Somebody sounds hungry," Ziva said laughing.
"We played Twenty Questions all morning. I do believe you must be hungry too."
"I am rather. Lunch?"
"Sounds good, though I don't really want to get up."
"Me neither. I am very comfortable – you make a good pillow, Tony."
"Are you saying I'm fat?" he asked mock-outraged.
"No, just comfortable."
"Right," he said, drawing out the word to make it four syllables long.
"So are we going to get lunch?"
"You're the one sitting on top of me, missy. You have to get up first."
"You could always pick me up," she joked, but shrieked when Tony stood up in the next second with her still in his arms. "Tony, put me down!"
"Nope! You were the one who suggested I pick you up, so now I'm picking you up."
"I meant it as a joke, Tony! Now put me down!"
"I will. Once we're in the kitchen."
"Fine," she relented and settled in to be carried the short distance. When they reached the kitchen, she made to get down, but Tony only held on to her tighter and refused to let go. She was about to yell at him, or threaten him, but he put her down on one of the counter chairs before she could. When she made to get down to help him with lunch, he stopped her however.
"Oh no! You sit. I make lunch."
"But - "
"No!" he interrupted her. "Sit."
She crossed her arms in half-annoyance, but stayed seated. She watched him as he whipped around the kitchen and ten minutes later was presented with a plate filled to the edges. He sat down next to her and they ate.
"Want to watch another movie when we're done here?"
"You and your movies. When I leave here, I will have watched every one ever made!"
"Hey, I'm a movie-buff! Of course I watch a lot of movies. But I don't have every one ever made. Only the good ones."
"You do not have The Sound of Music."
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."
"Whatever you say. I like it."
"Again. No comment."
They were silent a few moments more until their plates were empty. Tony went to take Ziva's but she stopped him.
"No, you made the food, so I clean up."
"You really don't have to," he protested.
"I want to. I cannot keep staying here if I do not do anything to help you."
"Sure you can," came his insistence.
"No. It does not work that way."
Seeing he was getting nowhere, he let her take their plates to the sink and admired her as she washed them. He took in her slender figure and smiled when he thought of the way it felt pressed against his body. He watched as her braid swung from left to right as she scrubbed with vigour and he felt proud that he was the one who had made it. She was the first person he ever told that he could braid hair. Other women he was with never even knew he had a cousin, much less the story he had told Ziva that morning. He felt a rush of heat when he again thought about the fact that he had found his soulmate. He always thought that the knowledge of having found her would fill him with a sense of dread. One woman for the rest of his life? He didn't think it was the most wonderful thing in the world. But now that he had her, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He felt butterflies in his stomach when he looked at her and his entire body was on red alert when they were close to each other. And that overwhelming urge to kiss her was both wonderful and extremely irritating.
He didn't realise the object of his thoughts had finished with the dishes until she had to touch him arm to bring his attention back down to earth.
"What were you thinking about, Tony? You had this faraway dreamy look on your face."
"Oh, just stuff," he assured her quickly. "Movie now?"
"Of course," she answered him, waiting until he got up and his back was turned before she let a smile spread across her face. She had seen where his gaze was resting and she felt her insides tingle with the knowledge that he had that expression on his face because he was thinking about her.