Safety
She had no idea what time it was, or why she was awake, but she was.
The house was silent, no whimpers or cries from the children, and the deep breathing of the body next to her told her that her husband was still drifting his way through sleep. Yet, the elusive land would not come to her, no matter how hard she tried. In the end, she gave in to the whisperings of her mind, letting it drift, and wound up staring into the face of said husband, who was still blissfully snoring. She let her eyes wander over his face, a chance to study him; she found it hard not to be drawn to his eyes when he was awake.
But with those eyes shut, she could detail much more. The lines chasing from his mouth, a trace of that trademark grin, even when it wasn't present. The soft creases in his forehead, a reminder of that deep-thinking worrier that she knew lurked beneath any joker facade he had. A handful of gray hairs, (Tony blamed the children and marriage), the stubble across his broad jaw, a small scar obtained in college above his left eyebrow, everything Ziva could map. Everything Ziva loved. She snuggled her way into him and rested her head against his chest, listening to the heart pounding beneath it, fingers curling in his chest hair absentmindedly, and breathed in the musky scent she knew as his. To her, these were all familiar, what she searched for when awoken, panicked, by nightmares, and familiar was safety. Safety, a word she thought she'd never use after all these years, something she'd always thought would be out of reach for her. Yet here, lying with Tony, safe was an understatement.
She was so lost in her mind-wandering that she almost jumped as a hand brushed over her hips, coming to rest at the small of her back, pulling her body flush against his, and his lips found her ear, spare hand tangling itself in her hair.
" You alright there, sweet cheeks?"
His voice, deep and soft, was hot on her skin, sending goosebumps crawling along her arms, and a shiver jolting through her. She nuzzled into him in response, planting a soft kiss on his neck.
" Never better."
" Then why we awake at 3am?"
He traced circles in her back with his thumb, leaning his chin on top of her head. Ziva laughed softy, replying with a shrug.
" I am, as you say, a night hawk?"
Tony snorted.
" Owl, hun. Although, maybe for you, hawk is more appropriate..."
Ziva laughed again, pulling away far enough to meet his eyes. She'd never met anyone with eyes as... captivating as his. Watchful, analytical, probing, like a hawk, with a deep vein of love, and a twinkle of mischief, so undeniably Tony. She loved them. They changed, depending on time and place. At work, confronting a suspect in interrogation, they were hard, sharp, blue like ice. At home, playing dress up with Abby, goofing off with Tony and Tim, they were gentle, ice turned to puddles; puddles of love, of pride, of devotion.
Ziva knew, regardless of her training and expertise, that Tony was her safety net. She could handle herself, but there was something different about having her husband around, a different kind of safety. Someone to trust, without (much) question, someone who always had her back; someone to allow her to forget the past, and become just an ordinary woman, prodding him to check the noise downstairs, or to fix the TV, or bath the children. A normal family life, something neither could have claimed to have had growing up, and Ziva felt almost smug for managing to procure it for her own children. Of course, Tony had a large part to play in that, and she'd known from day one, despite his insecurities, that he'd be a wonderful husband and father.
She reached up, and found his lips with her own, her hands wrapping themselves around his neck, enjoying the gentle intimacy of the moment, until Tony pulled away first, saying nothing, but cocking an eyebrow. Ziva shrugged softly, fingers playing with his hair, planting a sole kiss on his lips, before pulling herself back against him, familiar heartbeat thudding in her ear again.
"Just hold me, Tony?"
It was neither a question or a demand; more of a subtle plead. Her husband chuckled softly, the deep rumblings in his chest making her smile.
" You have to ask?"
Warm, broad arms encircled her, and Ziva sighed, content, watching his chest rise and fall, until she felt sleep beginning to tug at the corners of her mind. As she gave in, lips found her forehead, and she could almost see Tony smile as he spoke.
" Sweet dreams, hun."
Safe, and warm, and in the arms of her best friend and very own guardian; how could they not be?
I know, I know.
Drabble as a come-back present, how terrible of me.
I promise there shall be longer ones to come!