Part Two
"We're not getting out of this, are we?" Tony murmured quietly after they'd been stuck down the mine for a few hours.
Ziva had given up pacing and was now sitting opposite Tony with her legs stretched out in front of her. "I am still thinking," she replied, half-hearted.
"Liar," Tony shot back in good-nature.
Ziva shrugged and sighed dejectedly. "If you have any shiny ideas, then this would be the time."
"It's bright ideas, Zee-vah," Tony corrected, "and no, I don't."
"Great," Ziva muttered. "So we are stuck."
Tony gave her a boyish grin. "You don't have any secret Mossad 'get out of mine' skills in there?"
She gave him a withering look. "If I did, I would have used them by now."
"Oh." Tony knew that, but it was worth a try. "Well . . . I'm sure you'll think of something."
Ziva looked half-amused. "Me? And what shall you be doing while I come up with this something."
"Oh, you know, the usual," Tony replied casually. "Relax, watch some TV, maybe order some room service, you know, the usual."
Ziva rolled her eyes. "Cute, Tony, real cute."
He shrugged and grinned. "I do what I can. But still, you have more experience with . . . uh . . . you know . . ." Tony trailed off under Ziva's stare.
"With what, Tony?"
"You know," Tony replied sheepishly, gesturing with his hands, "the whole getting out of mines thing."
She gave him a look. "Do you really think I spend every other weekend down a mineshaft?"
Tony shook his head. "Noooo . . . but, well, you know . . ."
Ziva shook her head with an exasperated sigh. "Perhaps you should just stop now, Tony."
"Yeah," he agreed, "before I dig myself into an even bigger hole."
They fell back into companionable silence until Tony watched as Ziva briefly closed her eyes before opening them. Did she look paler than before? Tony wasn't sure.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, hoping that he wouldn't get another brush off.
"It's just hot," Ziva replied, giving him a small smile that Tony could see was fake.
"Then lose the jacket," Tony suggested.
Ziva looked down at her NCIS jacket which she'd forgotten about in her attempts to think of a possible escape plan.
"Right." Ziva shrugged off the jacket and it tumbled to the ground. She picked it up and folded it neatly.
"Better?" Tony inquired.
Ziva gave him a tight smile and nodded. Tony wasn't convinced.
"Are you sure you're . . ."
"I said I was fine, didn't I?" Ziva snapped hastily. "Just leave it."
"Ziva . . ."
She ignored him and leaned against the wall. It was slightly cooler than the small area that she and Tony occupied. She was hot, bothered and her head hurt, not that she wanted to admit that to Tony. He had enough of his own pain to worry about, never mind hers.
"Hey. Hey. You okay over there, Ziva?" Tony sounded really concerned and Ziva felt slightly guilty. Despite this, she couldn't bring herself to look over to him.
"Ziva . . ." Tony said her name again and she looked up. He was struggling to manoeuvre himself over to her.
"You should not be moving," she muttered as her head pounded.
Tony shrugged. "Can't get any worse." He grinned. "And it's much cooler over here."
Ziva looked at him bitterly because she wasn't in the mood for jokes. It certainly wasn't any cooler over here. But Tony just shrugged and awkwardly managed to sit himself down next to Ziva.
"See," he grinned, "much better."
Ziva rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Tony had, Ziva saw, brought over the backpack and was now awkwardly trying to prop his leg on it.
She sighed and said, "Here, let me do it."
Ziva shifted positions, lifted Tony's leg and shuffled the bag underneath it. Tony winced and Ziva replied with, "Don't be such a baby."
She lowered his leg onto the backpack and while Tony winced, he also said, "Thank you."
Ziva gave a half-shrug and returned to her original position against the wall, although slightly closer to Tony. If it wasn't so hot, it might have been considered cosy.
"So . . ." Tony asked casually as he tapped his fingers against his leg. "Seen any good movies lately?"
Ziva glared at him and muttered, "Do we really need to make small talk?"
"Well, excuse me for trying to make this situation more entertaining," Tony replied sarcastically. "I'm sorry I didn't ask for the mine with the Jacuzzi and cable TV!"
"No need to be sarcastic," Ziva snapped back. "Do you think I am enjoying this any more than you are?"
"I dunno? Maybe?" Tony exclaimed pettily, and then suggested, "Why don't we just stop talking."
"Good idea," Ziva replied curtly.
"Fine."
"Fine."
They sat in silence for about ten minutes before Tony broke it, saying, "This is stupid, you know that. Why are we fighting in the first place?"
"Who said anything about fighting?" Ziva replied. "If it were a fight, I'd have you cuffed and on the floor . . . twenty minutes ago."
Tony grinned cheekily. "That an offer, Miss David?"
Ziva sighed, exasperated. "Grow up, Tony."
Tony pretended to scratch his head. "Growing up?" he repeated. "What's that?"
Ziva shook her head in amusement. "Something, obviously, you have never heard of."
They lapsed into silence again until Ziva asked, "How is your leg?"
"Fine," Tony replied and totally contradicted himself by wincing. "Okay, so it hurts a bit, but I've had worse." Tony looked proud. "I was an athlete, after all."
Ziva snorted. "An athlete? You bounced a ball through hoops. Try running barefooted along the backstreets of Tel Aviv while being chased by the secret police."
Tony paused and cocked his head to the side. "You are joking?" he asked warily.
Ziva just glanced at him, giving him a questioning look that said 'am I?'
"It's just . . ." Tony waved his hands around. "Sometimes I don't know what to believe. You are a super secret Mossad ninja after all."
"If you insist." Ziva sounded uninterested and bored. Then she said, "Is it just me, or is it getting hotter."
"Well, you are in the presence of a DiNozzo," Tony replied with a grin, prompting Ziva to roll her eyes.
"Other than that," she remarked dryly.
"Then yeah, it's hot," Tony agreed, complaining. "It is the middle of summer." He repeated Ziva's earlier words.
Ziva sighed softly and closed her eyes, trying to think of someplace cool. The only thing worse than being trapped down a mine in the heat, Ziva concluded, would have been being trapped down a mine in the middle of winter. At the moment, though, Ziva was keen on the latter.
"You okay?" Tony asked, concerned and Ziva was slightly annoyed by the fact he was continuously worried about her. She could look after herself, you know.
"Fine," Ziva muttered as she felt her head swarm dangerously.
"You don't look fine," Tony demanded. "You're pale and sweaty. Maybe you have concussion from the fall?"
Ziva opened her eyes and gave him a dirty look. "As I recall, I was the one who landed on you. Perhaps you have the concussion and it is distorting your perception."
"My perception is perfectly fine, thank you," Tony huffed. "And I'd know if I had concussion, which I don't. I got a banged up ankle from this deal; I think that's enough."
Then he turned serious. "Seriously, if something is wrong, you would tell me. Right?"
Ziva gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and said, "Of course." In reality, she didn't need someone coddling her because she might have a slight concussion. As Tony had said earlier, she'd had worse.
"Now why is it that I don't believe you," Tony replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
"Believe what you like," Ziva snapped back and sighed.
Making a split second condition, Ziva divested herself of her shirt and folded it neatly into a little square, leaving her clad only in a red singlet top.
Tony, being a male, couldn't help but take in the shapely curves of Ziva's body. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen it before (he still remembered their time as Sophie and Jean-Paul fondly), but still, he was a male and he was Tony.
"Red light behaviour," Ziva smirked when she noticed Tony eyeing her.
"Wha . . . huh . . . um . . ." Tony looked slightly confused.
"Sexual harassment seminar? Traffic lights? Ear and tongue?" Ziva spoke slowly and pronounced, as if she were talking to a child.
"Wha . . . right. That. I remember that. Good times," Tony managed to reply once he'd successfully figured out what Ziva had been going on about.
"And," he finished coyly, "if red light is for a casual glance, what's the colour for something more?"
Ziva looked amused. "Are you propositioning me?"
He grinned. "You said it, not me. I was merely stating that . . ."
"I gathered," Ziva replied dryly.
"But if you're offering . . ." Tony let his words dangle in the air.
"I am not that desperate, yet," Ziva replied and Tony looked faintly hurt. "But it is not like we have not done it before."
"Us and twenty-one of our closest friends," Tony corrected and then grinned wistfully. "It was fun messing with the FBI and Probie, though. 'Did they or didn't they?'"
Ziva shook her head. "You are mean, you do know that."
Tony smiled brightly at her. "Absolutely."
---
"How long do you think it's been?" Tony asked quietly, later that same day.
Ziva looked up at the small patch of light that served as their only reminder that life outside still existed. "Four, five hours maybe."
"They'd be looking for us, right?" Tony sounded slightly worried and unlike his usual self.
"Of course," Ziva reassured, just as much for her own benefit as Tony's.
While she did believe that Gibbs and McGee would have gotten worried when they hadn't returned, she highly doubted that they'd realise Tony was reading the map upside down. Then again, it was Tony, so maybe someone might think of that.
Tony nodded mutely and winced at his ankle. Ziva, with a lack of anything better to do, decided to play doctor with Tony's foot. He winced as she prodded and considered it carefully.
"So, what do you think, doc?" Tony asked, mock-serious. "Will I live?"
"Unfortunately," Ziva deadpanned. "I stand by my original diagnosis – a sprain and you being a big baby."
Tony pouted. "But it hurts."
"I know," Ziva replied gently, "which is why I am going to strap it."
"With what?" Tony asked. "It's not like we have Ducky's medical kit here."
"Give me some credit, Tony," Ziva commented, giving Tony a withering glare. "I probably know more battlefield first-aid than most. I can improvise."
"I'm sure you can," Tony replied and said it in such a way that it sounded dirtier than it actually was.
Ziva riffled through the backpack that had fallen down with them, but found nothing suitable. She glanced around the mine, looking for some inspiration, before her eyes fell on Tony's chest.
"Take off your shirt," she ordered.
"Zee-vah," Tony replied with a trademark grin. "I know I am supremely attractive and handsome, but . . ."
"Just give me the shirt," Ziva sighed. "I want to use it to strap your ankle.
"Use your own," Tony retorted. "After all, do you think I have something underneath this thing?"
"So? You are a guy, yes?" Ziva replied plainly. "Do you not walk around topless like most others of your gender?"
"Well, yeah, but . . . hang on," Tony yelped. "At least you have underwear on underneath your top. And don't bother denying it; I can always tell if a woman's wearing or not."
Ziva held out her hand and pointed to the shirt. "Off."
Tony tried to stare Ziva down, but failed miserably. Sighing, Tony removed his shirt and as he'd done before, Ziva couldn't help but rake her eyes over his body. They were only human, right.
"See," she smirked, "that wasn't so hard."
Ziva took the shirt and formed it into something that resembled a long rectangle. Expertly, Ziva wrapped his ankle using the shirt and moved away from it with a satisfied grin.
"Not bad," Tony commented as he admired Ziva's handy-work. "Better than what I could have done, anyhow."
"Told you," Ziva replied in a know-all voice.
"And you're right, it does feel a little better," he smiled. "Thanks."
"Not a problem." Ziva smiled gently, though even that small action made her steadily growing headache ache even more.
Tony must have noticed Ziva tense up, because he commented lightly, "Maybe you should lie down or something."
Ziva looked at him weakly. "Is that your expert opinion?"
"Well, no, but you don't look great," Tony answered. "We don't need you passing out on me."
"I am not going to pass out." She looked affronted by the suggestion.
"Then take it easy, Dr Ziva," Tony said firmly.
"You cannot get any more easy than sitting around in a abandoned mineshaft," Ziva replied sarcastically as Tony suddenly became two Tonys.
"Ziva?" She could fuzzily hear Tony calling her name and saying something. But really, she just wanted the buzzing to stop.
The next thing she knew, her head was resting on Tony's shoulder and he was muttering, "Please don't die."
She opened one eye, but decided against removing her head from Tony's shoulder. It was rather comforting. She attempted to look at his face, faintly amused.
"It takes more than a fall to kill me, Tony," she said, wincing. "You should know that."
"Not even Mossad ninjas are indestructible," Tony replied softly. "Nor are NCIS agents." Ziva knew he was referring to Kate and/or Paula.
"You are correct," Ziva replied quietly, reaching out for his hand, "but we have greater odds than some. We are only human, Tony, despite what people might think of us."
"Maybe that's the scary bit," Tony replied. "We like to think we are protected because we carry guns and know how to fight, but in reality, we're just as vulnerable as your average Joe."
They were silent for a few moments, before Ziva asked, "Since when did you get so philosophical?"
Tony shrugged and grinned. "About a minute ago."
"Figures," Ziva replied and realised something was wrong. She looked down and exclaimed,
"Tony!"
He followed her line of sight and looked sheepish. "Yeah, about that . . ." he trailed off at Ziva's hard glare.
He held up his hands. "Hey, you looked all hot and sweaty so I . . ."
"Thought that you would take off my top?!" she exclaimed, looking down at her lacy bra.
"To cool you down!" Tony protested. "Seriously. And I wasn't the one who ordered me to strip."
"I ask you for your shirt for a legitimate medical reason," Ziva retorted, looking more than annoyed.
"I did the same!" Tony defended.
Ziva harrumphed and crossed her arms over her body. Tony was probably right and had most likely done it for honourable reasons, but it was Tony so you never knew.
"Well," Ziva sighed, "what's done is done. You have seen me in less, after all."
"Oh, yeah."
Slightly insulted, Ziva lifted her head from Tony's shoulder and gave him a good whack on the back of his head.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "What was that for?"
"For permanently living in the gutter," Ziva replied. "Gibbs would have done it, had he been here –"
"Thank God he's not," Tony interjected. "At least we've done it all before. The box, remember."
"Yes," Ziva replied and winced, but it wasn't because of her head. "I think it is permanently etched into my mind as something I never want to do again."
"Yet here we are . . ." Tony finished.
"This is different."
"Yeah, I think it's pretty much the same," Tony replied, shrugging. "Alone. Trapped. In mortal danger."
"Hardly mortal danger," Ziva scoffed. "Gibbs and McGee will find us sooner or later."
"But will it be as flesh or skeleton?" Tony questioned morbidly.
"Oh, grow up." Ziva's patience was wearing thin. "You are starting to sound like a dented record."
"It's broken record, for the record, but . . ." he was cut off by a low rumbling.
"I don't like the sound of . . ." Tony never got to finish his sentence as the walls around them started to crumble.
It only lasted a few seconds, but when Tony dared to open his eyes, he could feel the dirt sticking to his bare and sweaty flesh. He shook his head and some debris went flying. Then someone coughed and he looked down, blinking.
In his panic, Tony had pushed Ziva to the ground and now he was pressed against her, with his hands either side of her body.
"Was that a . . ."
Ziva nodded.
"Are you okay?"
Ziva nodded again.
As Tony's mind tried to process the fact that he'd just escaped death from a collapsing mine, he kissed Ziva.
Why he did it was probably something he'd never understand. Maybe it was the fact that he was still alive and had just cheated death (after all, they could have been buried alive). Perhaps it was the fact that he had been, for a while, slightly attracted to his female partner. Or maybe it was just because, at that moment, Ziva was pressed against him and he had to admit (like last time), it felt damn good.
And before he knew it, Ziva's bra was hitting the other side of the mine and clattering silently to the ground.