DiNozzo ran a hand through his hair and buried his face into his hands, jumping seconds later after hitting the horn of the steering wheel with his elbow. He let out a deep breath and shook his head. To say the last few days had been rough would be a drastic understatement. The lives of three agents had been lost. NCIS Special Agents Hall, Nelson, and Cassidy met death the same way but on different days. All three had lost their lives to a suicide bomber and had been too young to die. He couldn't let go of the feelings surrounding their deaths. They should have been working this weekend. It wasn't in the cards for him, McGee, Ziva or Gibbs to lose their lives. He cleared his throat and replayed Paula Cassidy's words in his mind.
You know, Tony, it's a cliché, but it is true. Life is too short not to tell someone you love them if you do…and you do.
Paula was right. Life was too short to be afraid. Life was too precious to be scared to say three words, and he had been an idiot not to say them before. Tony had not seen his girlfriend if he could still call her that in a week. One of his regrets was it taking the death of someone close to him to realize what he needed to say to Elizabeth Gibbs yet Anthony DiNozzo was grateful to be alive to say it. If he had died, Lizzie would have never known how he felt about her. He opened the car door and stepped out, locking it. He didn't need liquid courage, but it had taken him over a half hour to open the door of his Mustang.
Fifteen minutes later, Lizzie thought she heard the sound of a faint knock at the door. Lizzie put her paint brush down and picked up the remote, lowering the volume of the stereo. Someone knocked harder. If Katie had forgotten her key again, she would scream at her sister. Lizzie despised being disturbed when she was painting. Her mood wasn't in the best sorts considering she was unsure of her place in Tony's life. She wiped her hands on her black tank top and walked to the door, opening it. Her breath hitched slightly at the sight of him, and she couldn't find the words to greet him.
"I love you, Liz."
Before she could return the words, he cupped her face and put his lips over hers. When air was needed, he broke the kiss and hugged her tightly. Lizzie let out a soft sigh and wrapped her arms around him. She knew what had happened in the last days. Tony buried his face into her shoulder and took in the scent of her shampoo, scents of berry tea and orange flower hitting his nostrils. She pulled away and stroked his face softly. Without saying a word, she was comforting him. Lizzie gently took him by the hand and led him inside the apartment. He sat down on the sofa, and she curled up next to him. "Do you need anything?"
"Just you."
She squeezed his hand. Tony reached up and lightly touched her ear. He noticed a spot of purple paint on her earlobe. "Liz, how did you get paint there?"
Lizzie merely shrugged her shoulders. "Don't you know artists are messy?"
He shook his head. "Not messy…adorable."
She leaned in and kissed him softly. "I missed you. I'm glad you came back," she confessed, resting her head on his chest.
"Liz, I'm sorry it took so long."
Before he could apologize or explain more, her slender index finger was place over his lips. "I waited for you, Tony. I would have waited another week if that's what it would have taken. I love you," she finished, her eyes meeting his. Her mother's words had been taken to heart. She wouldn't play any more games with him. He had passed enough tests.
"I love you too, Liz. Go back to painting. I want to watch you."
She giggled slightly. "Why? It's nothing exciting to see."
"Please?"
"If you insist," she replied, getting up from her spot on the couch. Tony settled back onto the couch, placing a pillow behind his head. Lizzie turned the volume up on the music and resumed her painting. As usual, she lost all track of time and didn't look away from her painting until nearly two hours later. She smiled gently at the sight of her boyfriend sound asleep on the couch. After several failed attempts to wake him, Lizzie was extremely tempted to leave him. Tony rolled over onto his side, mumbling. "Oh, what the hell," Lizzie mumbled. She gave him a swift smack to the back of the head.
Tony's eyes jerked opened, and he almost fell off the couch. "I'm awake, Boss! On your six!"
Lizzie bit her lip as she tried not to laugh at him, but the giggle bubbled over, spilling into the room. Tony sleepily glanced up at her. "C'mon, let's go to bed."
He sat up, rubbing the back of his head. "That flick of the wrist runs in the family."
When he stood up, she slipped her arm around his waist. "Truthfully, I didn't think it'd work."
Tony yawned and walked with her towards the bedroom. "That was a better way to be woken up than what Gibbs actually does."
"I don't want to know."
"Yeah, you really don't," he muttered and admired the view of Lizzie bent over, digging through the bottom drawer considered to be his. She was looking for one of his t-shirts to sleep in. "But Liz," he began to whine.
She shook her head. "No, I'm not wearing what you want me to wear."
He stuck his lips out in a pout, and she walked over to stand in front of him. "If you don't wear what I want you to wear, how about nothing?"
"How old are you again?" she asked because the pouty expression remained on his face.
"Five years old. I'm big for my age."
"I agree," she replied, walking into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she came out with no make-up on her face and in one of his NCIS t-shirts along with a pair of underwear. Tony did a double take. This had to be love considering he found her unbelievably more sexy in his shirt than in something lacy or silky and lacking fabric. He had a smile on his face when she slid into bed next to him, cuddling close to him and sticking her cold toes underneath his legs. After a goodnight kiss, the couple drifted into sleep.
He and Lizzie continued their relationship for the next months. The relationship had fallen into a comfortable pace and still remained secret. It was easy with Lizzie. She had expectations of him but didn't get bent out of shape if he fell below those expectations. They were happy with each other, and Lizzie planned on asking him to Sunday dinner to let her parents know. She was tired of hiding. The anxiety and cold feet about it still plagued her.
After a long day and jurisdiction struggle with the FBI, the team had been told to go home after 2100. Tony had made a quick stop at his place to change clothes and get a few other things. Now, he was on his way to Lizzie's apartment. He had a sick girlfriend to take care of even though she had told him to stay away. Lizzie didn't want him getting sick with her cold. Apparently, a definite way to catch a cold was to have a flat tire in the rain and snow and wait over an hour for your father to change the tire. Tony parked his car and was knocking on the door several minutes later. The cold stricken Lizzie blew her nose and threw away the tissue, getting up from the couch. She had skipped her classes and made the sofa her home for the day. She opened the door and shook her head.
"Tony, I told you to stay away from me," she said, congested.
"See, I have this problem…I can't stay away. Besides, I brought chicken soup, movies, and apple juice." He slid by her in the doorway and placed the movies and bag on the bookcase in the small foyer of the apartment. He removed his Ohio State jacket, hanging it up in the closet.
"Tony," Lizzie said, still standing at the door with her voice sounding as if she were about to discipline an unruly child.
"You shouldn't argue. It's bad for your cold." He closed the closet door and grabbed the bag, going into the kitchen.
She sighed and closed the door, locking it. She was too sick and miserable to argue. Still, she didn't want him catching her dreadful cold.
"Liz, grab the movies and get back on the couch," Tony told her from the kitchen.
"Okay," she responded before breaking into a coughing fit. She took the movies off the bookcase and placed them on the entertainment center, flopping onto the couch and burying herself underneath the blankets moments later.
He heated up the chicken soup and poured her a glass of apple juice. He brought it to her. "Taken your medicine?"
She nodded her head and took the bowl from him once she sat up. "Thank you. I'm glad you're here."
"Careful. It's hot." He placed the apple juice on a coaster and kissed her forehead, sitting down. "Where else would I be?"
She shrugged her shoulders and settled back against the couch cushions. "I don't know. Maybe out at a party like Katie." Her sister had left a half hour ago to go to a party at a friend's house. She probably wouldn't come back home until tomorrow.
"I'd rather be with you."
She smiled softly. "Even with the boxes of kleenex and coughing?"
"There's Casablanca too," he said, putting the DVD into the player. He joined her on the couch and let her rest against him. As the movie started, she finished the bowl of soup, and he took it from her to place it on the coffee table. He removed his shoes and got comfortable on the couch. Since he changed positions, Lizzie had to get comfortable again. She snuggled herself in-between him and the cushions, resting her head on his chest. Tony's arm went around her, rubbing her shoulder blade.
"Cold?" he asked. She was wearing a black camisole and pajama pants.
"A little," she answered, tracing the letters of the Ohio State sweatshirt he was wearing. She thought he represented his alma mater too much, but she kept quiet. In response, Tony pulled the blanket around her shoulders more and kissed the top of her head.
"That's better," she said, smiling up at him. "Do me a favor?"
He nodded his head, waiting for her to ask the favor.
"Don't quote the movie."
"But Liz," he whined.
"Please?"
"Only because it's you."
She leaned up slightly, kissing his cheek. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. You know, I'm glad you weren't sick last week."
"Me too," she said. Last week, she and Katie turned twenty-one on November 8th. She wouldn't have been happy about being sick with a cold during her birthday. They both went quiet after the movie began. Casablanca was one of their favorites to watch together. He'd also brought Breakfast at Tiffany's and a James Bond movie she probably wouldn't want to watch especially since she made the request of no quoting.
Around midnight, Tony noticed the change in Lizzie's breathing. He looked down and smiled. She was sound asleep. He rubbed her back and watched the final scene of the movie, quoting it word for word and barely above a whisper. Twenty minutes later, he carefully removed himself from underneath her and managed to not wake her. He lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom, placing her under the covers. She only mumbled in her sleep, and he kissed her forehead. In the living room, he cleaned up the clutter and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher before joining Lizzie in bed. He kept a few changes of clothes, toothbrush, soap, and shampoo at the apartment if he stayed over. She had the same items at his placed if she stayed over. He fell asleep a few minutes after getting into bed with his arms around her.
At 0945, Tony awoke with Lizzie making use of him as a body pillow. Her head was on the middle of his chest, her arm flung over him, and one of her legs was tangled with his own. He couldn't ever figure out how she turned herself into a small pretzel during sleep. He twisted his mouth in thought, attempting to figure out how to remove his body from hers without waking her. She wasn't a morning person unless coffee and breakfast were waiting on her. He planned on bringing her breakfast in bed. He lifted her arm to move it but quickly stopped. Her knee was moving up dangerously close to a gentle area. He let out a sigh of relief when she stopped moving. As soon as he tried moving her arm a second time, the leg moved also. Clearly, moving her arm wasn't going to work unless he wanted the jewels to be injured. Time for Plan B.
"Liz," he whispered and stroked her hair, pulling gently and hoping the action would cause her to move.
She murmured and removed herself off his body, wallowing into his side. He had a minute or less before she'd resume the previous position. Lizzie was a notorious cuddler. He quickly and quietly got out of bed and went to the bathroom to begin his morning routine before starting breakfast. When he emerged out of the bathroom, Lizzie was peering at him with sleepy blue green eyes. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to make breakfast."
She shook her head. "Back in bed," she murmured, burying herself under the covers. "And cuddle me."
"Keep my side of the bed warm while I make breakfast. You're getting the DiNozzo special."
"You said that on my birthday…wasn't all that special," she commented with a sly, sleepy grin.
"Hey!" He shook his head. She could still fire quips in a half asleep state.
"It was special…but this morning's DiNozzo special better involve coffee," she informed him, giving him a light kiss and allowing him not to get back into bed.
He walked out of the room and looked back to her at the doorway. She had fallen back to sleep. He heard a key be put into the front door and assumed it was Katie coming in from her night of partying although early for her to be coming in. He wasn't worried about only being in his boxers. Katie had seen him plenty of times. He was practically their roommate some weeks. He was halfway across the living room when the person entered the apartment. His eyes widened, and he stood there frozen. Katie hadn't been the one to enter the apartment.
"DINOZZO!" Jennifer Shepard-Gibbs was surprised she could formulate anything much less shriek out a name. Why was Anthony DiNozzo in her daughters' apartment wearing only boxers? She didn't expect to find a male in the apartment. She had expected to find Lizzie asleep then planned on taking care of her.
He quickly snatched a throw off the couch and wrapped it around his waist, staring at Director Shepard. The two stared at each other in silence. Both were unsure of what to say.