Ziva heard the knock on her door just as she slipped on her black heels. She opened the door to see Tony, head bowed, his tie loosened and blazer in hand, his elbow resting on her door frame, he looked up as she opened the door. She watched the emotions flash across his face as he took in her appearance; her hair was out, curls tumbling over her shoulders and she wore a red knee length sleeveless dress, she wore a pair of simple silver earrings. First there was surprise, then lust, then hurt, then last of all, anger.
He strode straight past her. "Come right in." She murmured. He scanned the empty apartment then turned to face her.
"Tony." She stated warily.
"Off out?" he asked bitterly.
"Yes." She said with a sigh.
"A date?" he tried to ask nonchalantly.
"Yes."
He laughed bitterly, almost hysterically.
"A date.." he laughed again.
"Why is that funny Tony? You're not the only one that can get a date around here." She walked into the kitchen.
"Ouch" he thought, following her, but ignoring the snipe. "You nearly died today. Yet you're still going out on a date."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She put on her mask again and began to put dishes away.
"I've been through worse."
"I know you have, but can you just drop the act?! Stop acting like it's normal to carry on after something like this."
She began to work faster. "It is part of the job." She said bitterly.
"But going against your partner isn't! I told you to wait for back up! What were you thinking? Do you know how much we-" he broke off and corrected himself. "How much I was worrying?" she said nothing.
"Damn it Ziva! Will you just stop?!" he growled and grabbed her arm, sending the dish in her hand flying.
They stood staring at the broken dish on the kitchen floor, which reminded Tony of their relationship.
There was a silence and all they could hear was the CD she had borrowed off him, which was playing softly in the background.
She removed her arm from his grip and pushed him against the counter.
"What do you want me to say?!" she shouted. For once he was lost for words. What did he want her to say? He wanted her to tell him how much she loved him.. that would never happen. Ok, realistically what did he want her to say? He didn't know. His eyes flicked to the barely noticeable cut on her neck, half hidden by her hair.
"You want to know what I was thinking? Yes?"
Tony said nothing.
"You want to know what I was thinking of when he had that knife pressed to my neck?" he winced a little. "You want to know who I was thinking of?" she spat.
She calmed down a little, she closed her eyes. "You." She whispered, so quiet he thought he imagined it. "I was thinking of you." She almost shouted again.
His lips crashed against hers. Their bodies pressed against each other. He felt something wet on his cheek, he opened his eyes to see a single tear escape from her closed eyes. She stopped abruptly and tried to turn but he pulled her into a tight hug. She pushed at his chest, struggling to get out of the hug. She could not show any weakness.
He placed a soft kiss on her head and in that moment she broke down. Instead of pushing at him she grabbed at his shirt, pulling him closer. She sobbed into his chest.
He was in shock, but pulled her closer anyway. He breathed in the smell of her hair. She stopped crying and let her head rest on his now damp shirt, trying to regain her composure.
He placed a hand under her chin and brought her face up, her eyes met his. He traced the cut on her neck softly. She was beautiful, even whilst crying. She looked away embarrassed at the burning intensity in his eyes. He gently moved her face to his again. "I love you." He said sincerely and kissed her tenderly. She kissed him back.
"What about your date?" he then asked when both broke apart.
"Oh yes," she said teasing "Bye." He frowned.
"I am joking Tony. I'm not going anywhere."
"Who was he?" he asked.
She chuckled. "I don't know, it was meant to be a blind bubble date."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Double?"
She tutted. "Yes, double. A friend her boyfriend and his friend."
He smiled as the song on the song on the CD changed. Frank Sinatra. His hands rested on her hips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder, a little smile playing on her lips.
They danced to the soft music.
They stood in each others arms, swaying slowly.
Even after the CD had finished.