Kairos
Kairos [noun] : meaning the right or opportune moment (the supreme moment).
The ancient Greeks had two words for time, chronos and kairos. While the former refers to chronological or sequential time, the latter signifies a time between, a moment of indeterminate time in which something special happens.
What the special something is depends on who is using the word.
While chronos is quantitative, kairos has a qualitative nature.
When he shows up at her apartment, it's clear she expected no company.
A small part of his heart aches at that.
It is Christmas Eve, after all.
But the smile she flashes him reaches her eyes, brightening her face, as she opens the door to her apartment wider; welcoming and expectant, and it fills him with warmth to know he put it there.
"Tony." She greets, surprised, pulling her fleece blanket to wrap tighter around her.
He holds up wine, a bag of her favorite Greek take-out. Her head falls to the side, causing curls to cascade over her shoulder. A small, affectionate smile tugs at her lips.
"It was the only place open tonight." He grins sheepishly, shrugging as he takes in her sock covered feet and too big sweatshirt. "I thought you'd like some company. And I couldn't waste an opportunity," he looks at her pointedly. "There's tons of classics on tonight."
She smiles shyly then, opening the door wider and nodding toward her couch.
"Actually, if you'd like to join me, I am in the middle of one you may approve of."
She takes the bagful of Greek containers from his hands as he steps past her, grinning, and watches him fondly as he starts to discard his jacket and shoes.
They're each on their third glass when Ziva finally shuffles over from her end of the couch and into his lap. His arm falls around her effortlessly, and his body freezes with surprise for only a moment, relaxing as her body rises and falls with her slow, steady breathing. Her eyes never leave the screen, It's a Wonderful Life playing out before them.
Her hand stetches out to push away a take-out box on her coffee table out of her line of vision, bringing her hand back only to rest against the arm anchoring her to him.
"You know, the Greeks; they have an expression."
He pauses with his glass halfway toward his lips, glancing down at her from where he looms above her. The touch is like fire on his skin, and it flares up his arm, down his spine.
"Oh?" He murmurs, setting down his glass beside him. Ziva's eyes don't leave the screen, but he can see her attention is no longer on the movie.
"Kairos. A moment of time that is... meaningful. Significant."
Her thumb brushes the underside of his arm, and he stares down at her thoughtfully.
"Are they just that?" He murmurs finally, resisting the urge to reach down and brush her curls behind her ear. "Only moments?"
Her thumb pauses against his skin, and she looks up to meet his gaze; all intimate smile and molten eyes.
"I like to think they're moments that promise more."
And he thinks he could agree to that, an unconscious smile pulling at his face.
The credits flash across the scene just as she shifts to face him in his lap. It's the last thing he sees before his eyes close and her lips, warm and demanding, at last capture his.
It's a Wonderful Life, indeed.