Author's Note: Finally. I've started back up on rewatching episodes.
Chapter 6 - Bounce
The night they solve the case - and Renny leaves town - he shows up at her place with a box of pizza and a bottle of wine.
(Gibbs has his boat, bourbon, and basement. He has Ziva and pizza. He thinks he has the better deal.)
The bottle has a gold bow attached to its neck. "Because I yelled at you earlier," he says, a sheepish smile on his face. She smirks at him and opens the door wider for him. Their version of apology and acceptance.
Even though it has been three years since the last time they did this end-of-case ritual, they settle back into the old routine seamlessly. He gets the same wine glasses out of the same cabinet in her kitchen. She opens the bottle, because he is more likely to push the cork into the wine.
("I would have thought a man such as yourself would be more adept at opening a bottle of wine," she had said the first time he had corked the wine and she had had to decant it. He had merely made a face at her in response, although he had really wanted to ask just what kind of man she thought he was.)
They sit in their usual spots on her couch, next to each other but not too close, pizza box open in front of them on the coffee table, black and white movie playing on the TV. They each polish off two slices before she speaks. "Did you go to Palmer for help?"
"Yep. He even brought the right coffee. Good to know those months of training him didn't go to waste."
"I told you that you underestimated him," she replies.
("Gibbs goes to Ducky for guidance," she had said. "Who do you go to?" He had given her a pointed look but she had shaken her head. "No, it cannot be me. I am on your team. It cannot be Abby, either," she added quickly, as if she could read his mind. "Try Palmer. He is more perceptive than he appears.")
"Yeah, yeah, you were right," he says dismissively, taking another slice out of the box.
They lapse back into silence, but neither are watching the movie. He is preoccupied, thinking about how he put an innocent man in prison. She is waiting for him to talk, knowing he will eventually. When he has that look on his face, the dark brooding look, it is only a matter of time.
(The last time she had seen that look on his face was after the mess with Jeanne Benoit, when she had cornered him in the bathroom and told him that he needed to move on from her.)
After about ten minutes, he is ready to talk. "Did you really mean it when you said that I'm a competent, capable investigator?" he asks, turning his head to look at her.
She smirks. "And a good leader. Yes." She knows that he had been listening around the corner when she told McGee that the other day. "I would not have said it if it was not true."
(She knows that he had been listening because he did it often before and he is not as unpredictable as he likes to think.)
He takes a bite of pizza, chews thoughtfully. He knows that she would not lie to him to spare his feelings, that for a trained assassin, she is a horrible liar. No, that's not quite right. She is a good liar, just not to him. He isn't sure if it's because he knows her so well that he can see through her lies or because she cannot lie to him. And that is a rabbit hole of a thought that he doesn't have the capacity to go down right at this moment.
Another long pause. "Gibbs told me he was proud of me."
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her smile, just a little. "As he should be." She wonders if this will inflate his ego, make him insufferable. She hopes so. It is easier when he is that Tony, all swagger and machismo. Not this self-doubting Tony with the fragile ego. At the same time, she would not trade in these little moments for anything. At first, the cracks in his polished exterior annoyed her, but she quickly learned that he does not show these cracks to just anyone, and she likes this vulnerable Tony.
(In moderation. She also likes a confident man.)
Without looking at her, he says, as casually as possible, "Oh hey, Sergeant Mitch Wilkins says hi. Actually, he said something about poking you?"
She turns her head slowly toward him, a mystified look on her face. She blinks once, twice, then something seems to click. "Oh yes. Facebook. Was that before or after he was put in custody?"
"Before." Does that matter, he wants to ask. He doesn't realize he said it out loud until she answers.
"No," she answers. Then, "Are you jealous, Tony?"
He smirks. "Of an embezzler and a murderer? Not likely."
(He wants to say, yes.)
Then he asks, still feigning casualness, "So, Facebook, huh?"
She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. "Yes. I joined so I could keep up with my cousins in Israel. You are not on it?"
(Of course she knows he is not. It is almost a surprise that he can turn his computer on.)
"Wilkins friended me, soon after the embezzlement case closed," she says while wondering why she feels she must explain. "We chatted a bit, he asked me on a date. I said yes. He asked for another date. I said no."
("Is it because of that partner of yours?" Wilkins had asked. Even though he was on the phone, she had raised her eyebrows before blinking once and giving him the standard busy with work, no time for anything else response that she gave when a first date tried to turn into a second date.)
He nods, but still has a particular look on his face that makes her steel herself for his next question. "Is your Israeli boyfriend on Facebook?"
She is silent for long enough that he wishes he could take that question back. Finally, she says, "No. He hardly has time to write email. Facebook is well beyond him."
"Do I sense trouble in paradise?" He has adopted that too casual tone of voice again.
She snorts. "Hardly. That assumes there is paradise."
(In reality, she had gotten tired of all the secrets, even though she knows Michael could not tell her about his Mossad missions. There was something else that he was not telling her and she could not abide being in a relationship with someone so secretive. They did not officially break up so much as just slowly stop communicating altogether.)
That answer makes him happier than he is willing to acknowledge, and so he turns his attention to the movie, which he has thus far ignored. He has seen it before but can't remember the name, which is highly unusual for him. As he is trying to figure it out the name of the movie, a thought comes unbidden into his head. This is the first time in a while where both he and she are unattached.
And because apparently the filter that keeps him from saying every thought that pops into his head when he's around her is broken tonight, he says that thought out loud.
He stares at the TV while saying this but he can see her turn her head toward him in her periphery. He implores himself to not look at her until she says something but he can't help himself. Slowly, he turns his head until he is staring straight into her eyes. The look on her face is unreadable. They have a silent staring contest until he thinks that he will have to make a joke, anything to break the silence. The tension is suddenly so high he thinks he can hear its hum.
But she breaks first. "That is true, I suppose," she says carefully. Her dark eyes flit across his face as if searching for something. His meticulously maintained DiNozzo the Clown facade is down and he lets her see on his face all the words he can't say. She doesn't shudder or laugh, just continues to gaze steadily at him.
She thinks maybe he is going to kiss her, and she mentally prepares for it, but he does not. Part of her is disappointed, but she is also pleased. It would be such an obvious move - movie on in the background, buzzed on good red wine, actually honest conversation. Instead, a slow smile blooms across his face. It is infectious and she can feel herself returning it.
They grin at each other for a long moment, then the look on his face shifts and he says, "Laura!"
"What?" My name is Ziva, she wants to tell him.
"The movie." He gestures toward the TV. "Laura, 1944. Gene Tierney." She is still looking a bit startled, so he explains further. "I couldn't remember the name of this movie but it just came to me."
She cannot help but laugh at him.
The shift in their relationship is barely perceptible but it is there. Outwardly, they continue on with business as usual. They banter, tease, argue, watch each other when they think the other is not looking.
Then one morning, she is running a little late and he is a little early, and so they arrive in the parking lot at the same time. They park next to each other and walk toward the building together. By some fluke of nature, they have the elevator car to themselves as they head up to the bullpen.
He asks her how she's doing, and she is about to open her mouth to respond when suddenly he is kissing her. She is wearing her hair down and he tangles one hand in her curls, the other hand moves to her waist, holding on to her as if she might bolt. He tastes of mint toothpaste. The smell of his aftershave is almost intoxicating. She puts a hand on his chest as she loses herself in the feel of his lips against hers, softer than she remembered.
Too soon, they feel the elevator slow down and they break apart, clear throats. When the elevator doors open with a ding, they are standing next to each other, both facing the elevator doors. Business as usual.
Except Gibbs, with his superhuman powers of perception, notices. He takes Tony with him to Arizona. And when they return, he sends Ziva and McGee to Chicago on Director Vance's security detail. When Ducky asks Gibbs about the change up in partnering, he shrugs and says, "Just shaking things up, Duck."
Vance's friend, Tara, asks Tony about his love life, suggestively. He is flattered but surprisingly uninterested. Tara smirks at him and asks about his love life, to which he shrugs and mumbles something about a dry spell and a work in progress. As Tara is advising him to pick the right woman, the elevator doors open, and there Ziva stands.
When Tara asks Ziva about her love life, Ziva merely shrugs. Tara asks about department policy regarding dating coworkers and Ziva explains Gibbs' Rule 12. Tara smiles knowingly and asks about punishments for breaking that rule. Ziva says that no one has tried. Tara gives her a look and says, "Yet, right?"
(Later, Tony and Ziva will ask what each said to Tara and then wonder out loud if they have been that obvious. Ziva postulates that an outsider sees things that those who see them every day do not.)
He takes the hint, in any case, and as soon as the case is solved, he makes his way to her place. She answers the door in sweatpants, a tank top, and a puzzled look on her face. Before she can say anything, he kisses her in a rush, walking her backward and kicking the door closed behind them.
(He will look back later and observe how it was the best way ever to end a dry spell.)