"Tony."
He spins, startled, and sees that Gibbs has entered the room without his noticing. A greeting dies on his lips when he takes in the older man's grim expression. "Boss?"
Gibbs turns to leave, motioning for him to follow. Tony gently sets Ziva's hand down on the bed and hurries toward the door. The hallway is empty; a glance out a window reveals that the sun is low in the sky. He hadn't realized it was so late.
"Listen," Gibbs says. Whatever he's about to say, it isn't good, and Tony braces himself for bad news about McGee. "I just got off the phone with Palmer. Ducky had a heart attack."
For several seconds, he stares, dumbfounded. It never occurred to him to worry about the members of their team who were nine hundred miles away from the bomb. Why would it?
Something breaks inside of Tony, something that has been waiting to break all day. Before he realizes what's happening, adrenaline is surging through his veins and his fist is flying toward the wall.
And then there is Gibbs, catching his wrist just before impact. "Cool it."
"Cool it?" he asks incredulously. "That makes a whole lot of-"
"You break your hand doing something stupid, you're just creating more problems," Gibbs says simply, and lets go of him.
Tony turns away, breathes heavily, wonders how his boss can be so calm and rational when the world has literally caved in around them. The steady beep of the heart monitor hooked up to his partner drifts into the hallway. She is alive. Despite his failing to keep her safe, she is fine.
As long as that is true, he has reason enough to keep his head on straight.
"So will Ducky be okay?" he finally asks in a carefully controlled voice.
"Palmer hadn't heard yet. I gotta get back to Abby; she's upset. I'll keep you posted." Gibbs lays a heavy hand on Tony's shoulder and meets his eyes. "Don't let this bastard get to you, DiNozzo."
"I'll try, Boss."
"When we figure out our next move, I'll let you know. Until you hear otherwise, your priority is your teammates. Got it?"
He nods solemnly. "'Course."
0000000000
For the rest of the evening, Tony is in Ziva's room. Sometimes he paces and sometimes he simply watches her sleep and sometimes he has to stand in the corner while nurses check on her vitals. It's all very uneventful, except for when Abby rushes in to deliver two pieces of good news: Ducky is going to be fine, and so is McGee. Tony accepts her enthusiastic hug, closing his eyes against the force of his own relief, and proceeds to listen as she talks to Ziva for no less than five minutes. She asks, "Do you remember when we told that guy we were lesbians so he'd leave us alone?" and says, "It's a really, really good thing Tony was with you," and urges her to wake up soon.
Then she turns to Tony and says, "Are you staying here overnight?"
It takes him a second to realize that he is being addressed; he is busy wondering why, even though he did act fast once Ziva got hit, he hadn't done more to shield her from the debris. "Yeah."
"Then I will too," she says with finality, holding up a hand when he opens his mouth. "You're staying with Ziva, so I'm going to stay with McGee."
Tony furrows his brow. "I'm staying here for both of them."
"I know you are." Abby gives him a knowing look on her way out the door. "Technically."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he demands, but she has already left.
0000000000
Once, a couple months ago, he got a glimpse of what could be.
It had been a complete accident, only occurring because Tony was distracted by picking out a movie for them to watch when Ziva called from his kitchen, "Where is the bread?"
"Cabinet above the toaster, babe."
The apartment fell silent, and he, realizing what he had said, noted with a sinking stomach that no cabinet door was being opened.
Why the hell don't you think? he scolded himself, rubbing his forehead. He had never called her that before, never addressed her with any term of endearment in that tone of voice. "Ninja" was used affectionately, "sweet cheeks" teasingly, and it would not be unreasonable to label the way he said "sweetheart" as condescending. But "babe"… it had sounded domestic, a casual word with a commitment behind it. It was as if he knew that she would be asking where the bread was today and tomorrow and every day after that.
There were days when he allowed himself to fantasize about the desires he dared not voice. He imagined what it would be like to wake up beside her, to come home and kiss her at the end of the day, to unwind together over dinner. In reality, they were partners and each other's closest friend; there was nothing domestic about them, no matter what he found himself wishing for. That was why him calling her "babe", and the fact that it almost felt natural, didn't make any sense.
After what felt like an eternity, he heard Ziva taking a loaf of bread from the cabinet, and a moment later, she appeared in the doorway. She wore her tight let's forget this happened smile, the one he saw whenever one of them pushed too far into unfamiliar territory. "Would you like a sandwich?"
The feeling of domesticity returned, just for a split second, and Tony decided that he wanted to hold onto it. "No thanks." He plucked Casino Royale from the shelf. "I'm ready as soon as you are."
0000000000
This is the memory at the forefront of Tony's mind after Abby leaves. He isn't exactly sure why. Maybe it's what she said or maybe it's just that he and Ziva went through a lot together today; all he knows is that as he holds Ziva's hand and makes one-sided conversation, he occasionally finds his lips poised to let that word slip out once again.
Footsteps approach, causing him to trail off in the middle of a narration about his favorite parts of Paris and how she really should have gone sight-seeing with him. He tears his gaze away from her face and looks up to see Gibbs. His boss is bearing coffee and a greasy, rubbery piece of pizza on a paper plate. It is only then that Tony realizes how hungry he is. "Gourmet restaurant down there, huh, Boss?"
Gibbs is not amused. He slaps both items down on the bedside table. "I better not have to bring you and Abby food again. The last thing I need is my entire team in a hospital bed."
"Sorry, Boss," he says, obediently taking a huge bite of pizza. It tastes good despite its poor appearance, if only because he hasn't eaten since this morning.
Tony gulps down some coffee and watches Gibbs go to the other side of Ziva's bed, kiss her cheek, and whisper something in her ear. The look on the older man's face is soft as he gazes at her, but once he has straightened up, he is all business. "I have a meeting with Vance and SECNAV," he tells Tony. "I'll be back in the morning."
"I'll be here," Tony says. Gibbs nods at him and strides out of the room, and it is only when he and Ziva are alone that he realizes the significance of what he's having for dinner.
Pizza and coffee.
Just like that night seven years ago, the night he had followed her to the hotel pool as an enemy and left as something else. That night, she had confided in him, but never would he have guessed for their relationship to become what it has.
"Remember that?" he asks, not bothering to explain what he's thinking about out loud. He takes another bite of pizza. "If you were awake, I'd totally share."
It's easy to hear her laughing voice in his head, telling him that no, he would not willingly share food. Again, he replies out loud: "Nah. I would. Only with you, though."
Yay! The second chapter of my first NCIS longfic! I think that officially makes it more than a oneshot, yes? :P
Hope you enjoyed!