Title: Opportunity
Rating: T, I suppose
Spoilers: Anything up until "Truth or Consequence"
Summary: An opportunity presents itself to Tony and Ziva, will they take it?
Pairing: Tiva, of course.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, Tiva would be a reality and not just something I'm writing about.
A/N: I just want to thank everyone who took the time to review this story. I had fun writing it and even though I'm not sure that I like the way this chapter ends, I enjoyed writing this side of Tony and Ziva.
Chapter Five
Ziva awoke to the sound of a ringing cell phone and a cold breeze across her face. She slid deeper into the covers and rolled over, her body searching for the heat that Tony's body would provide. She was met by cold sheets and she slowly opened her eyes. Dim white light filtered in through the curtains and she was not sure what time it was. She sat up, looking around their small hotel room.
The fire they had built the night before was no more and Ziva stared at the empty fireplace. She tangled her hand in her hair and closed her eyes, sighing.
She and Tony had said so many things to one another, things that she had been longing to say. She did not regret the things she'd said but a part of her feared that he would, that he would act as though things between them had not changed. But they had, in so many ways and she could not allow their relationship to remain in this ... limbo.
Her phone rang again and she slid out of the bed to search for it. She found it where she'd left it, lying on the floor beside her discarded backpack, and smiled as she saw Tony's name flash across the displace.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sweetcheeks, did I wake you?" he asks and she can practically see the brilliant smile on his face.
"No, Tony, you did not wake me. But you should have. Why did you let me sleep so late? And where did you go?"
"You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you up. Besides, when I tried, you mentioned the number eighteen and a paperclip and I decided that it would be wise to let you sleep," Tony joked.
Ziva rolled her eyes, "I do not think that I would have threatened you, Tony."
He snorted and Ziva smiled.
"Just come and open the door, Probie."
She froze for a moment, looking down at her phone before moving to the door. She opened it just as Tony reached the top of the stairs. He was carrying two styrofoam cups and a bakery bag, his phone wedge between his shoulder and his ear. She flipped her phone closed before relieving him of his and closing it as well.
He walked past her into the room, setting the bag and cups on the table under the window. She followed him, shutting the door behind her. She sat on the edge of the bed, taking the proffered cup, and watched him as he dug around in the bag. When he'd found whatever it was that he had been looking for, he sat down in the chair opposite her and took a large bite of his jelly donut.
"That cannot be healthy, Tony," she said, taking a sip of her tea.
Tony smiled as he swallowed the donut in just three bites, "But it was totally worth it, Ziva. I got you one, too."
She shook her head, "I am fine. Maybe later. Did you find out if the road has been cleared? Can we leave now?"
He nodded, taking a drink from his own cup, "Yeah, Sheriff Parsons said we were good to go. Although, he did warn me that the road to the interstate is going to be pretty bad. I guess they don't plow much around here."
Ziva nodded absently, her eyes locked on his face. He continued to drink his coffee, watching her over the edge of his cup.
"There are still many things that we have to talk about, Tony," she said finally, "But I am glad that we are on the same sentence."
Tony smirked, "It's page, Ziva, and sometimes, I think you do that on purpose."
She shook her head, "Do what on purpose, Tony?"
"Never mind. And you're right, we are on the same sentence. And there's always going to be something else for us to talk about, Zi," he said, placing his cup down on the table.
She watched as he stood up, taking her cup and placing it on the table beside his before pulling her up into his arms.
"But there is one thing that I want to tell you now, here, before we go back to the office," he said, "And I don't care if you believe me or if you think that it's too soon for me to say this. I've known for almost four years and I want to tell you now."
He paused and Ziva tilted her face up to him, "Then tell me, Tony."
"I love you, Ziva David."
She had known that those were the words he had wanted to say and she desperately wished that she could say them back, but she wasn't ready. She knew that she loved Tony, she had been trying to lie to herself about him for years. But telling him would be admitting to something that she wasn't fully sure she wanted to believe.
"Tony, I-"
He dropped his mouth to her's, cutting her words off immediately. The kiss was slow and sweet and she savored the feel of his mouth on hers, his hands in her hair. She allowed herself to feel safe with him, as she always had.
"I don't want you to say it until you're ready," he told her as they held each other, breathing heavily, "But when you are, I don't want you to think that I don't want to hear it. I love you, Ziva, and I have nothing left to lose. Nothing but you."
She shook her head, "I am not going anywhere, Tony. Not anytime soon."
He nodded, kissing her again quickly before taking a step back and putting some space between them.
"We should get back," he told her, "Because I have this feeling that the minute Gibbs sees us, he's going to know what happened and I'm going to get slapped so hard I'm not going to be able to remember my own name."
And Ziva laughed, thinking for the first time since returning from Africa that everything was going to be all right.