note: And greetings to you all. It's been a while, I know. I feel I always say that. Anyway, this is a new little thingy of mine that I really hope you guys are gonna like. Basically, whilst I was on a car journey on Friday my mp4 brought a song up on shuffle, and I was hit by Tony/Ziva feels. Nothing new there. But, a fic idea came along with it. Which was pretty unusual.
So this is gonna be three or four chapters, I haven't decided yet, it depends on which verses I do or don't include here. This short thing is the first chapter, however, and I wanted to get it up before I forgot as to this thing's existence. So voila, I guess. (Oh, there is some debate regarding the hyphen in the song title; I'm not sure but I like the hyphen, so.)
Anyway, like I said, I really hope you guys like this. It's gonna be sweet, happy, and have no relation to current context whatsoever. Just Tony, Ziva, and the stuff life throws at 'em. Enjoy.

disclaimer: be quiet.


"A hand upon my forehead...
The joke and then the laugh.
Waking up in your arms;
A place to call my own..."

Life-ning; Snow Patrol.


When he hears the knock on the door, he moves only because he knows it's her. His head is pounding and he might just be running a temperature, but they've got the day off as it is and he figured a call to her would be wise.

"Hi."
She says, with a small smile, and he offers a fairly weak grin and a hushed "hey" in return.

He knows she'll shut the door behind her anyway, so he pads barefoot back to his bedroom and slumps beneath the covers. She follows, boots clicking quietly as she walks.

"I am surprised you're not watching a movie on the couch."

He chuckles a little, head shifting on his pillow to look at her. She shrugs off her coat and rolls up the sleeves of her sweater as she walks toward him more.

"Nah. Too tired. Wouldn't pay attention anyway."

He sees her eyebrows raise in the dull light, but she says nothing.

"Move over, Tony."

He wiggles backwards, much to her apparent amusement, and she sits herself by his hip, feet still on the floor as her legs curve round the side of his bed.

"You do not look sick."
Concern seems to lace her voice, though, contrary to her words, and he sees her frown.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaustion setting in.
"Yeah, well, I feel it."

Nimble fingers trace a path up his cheek before her palm rests flat against his forehead. It stays there a while, her thumb sweeping gently up and down, and the soothing motion seems to let the tension flee his body. He relaxes, fully, with a sigh, and his eyes flit up to seek hers.
There's a deep light burning in her gaze that he's never seen before, and it sends his mind reeling.

He's about to talk when she pulls her hand back, setting it down on her knee. A heavy silence settles over them, dragging out until he looks away.

He clears his throat.
"So what's the verdict, doc? Will I survive?" Her eyes roll, but a smirk creeps onto her lips.

"You are just a little hotter than normal, Tony."

"Thank you very much, but, only a little?"

His response is automatic and predictable, but it makes her laugh, and she leans forward with a giggle.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?" she asks, her hand resting against his cheek yet again.

"Stay."

Her eyes widen at first, clearly stunned at his words, and his hand covers hers upon his face in a desperate effort to stop her from running. But the contact seems to make up her mind, and a big, wholly genuine smile spreads upon her face. She nods, kicking off her shoes before slipping beneath the sheets, right by his side.

"If you make me sick, too, Tony, I swear…"
The threat trails off into nothing, and he laughs, sleepy eyes closing at last. He feels a hand slip into his just as exhaustion takes over.

And whilst they may drift off separately, they wake later in each other's arms.
He wonders vaguely why it feels like he's come home.