30 day challenge notes: quantity over quality, limited editing, stand-alone/unrelated stories unless specifically stated otherwise, not always tiva, chronologically randomly set in whatever pre-s11 season seems to fit
The vanilla scent of the cherry blossoms carried by a pleasantly warm breeze, made the day seem just a little brighter than when they had left the Navy Yard half an hour earlier. Tony smiled for no particular reason and glanced to his left, smiling wider for a particular reason he would never admit to. Well, not never, just, not yet.
Another warm breeze caressed his face, and his heart, as it gently brushed Ziva's curls, his fingers aching to do the same.
Someday soon, he thought, looking at his partner as his heart bloomed like the cherry blossoms all around them.
"What?" Ziva asked as she looked at him, her brows knitting.
He shrugged his shoulders, but not his goofy smile. "Nothing."
She looked him up and down with suspicion. "You have been very quiet … and pleasant."
He blinked slowly, confusion clouding his joyful mood. "I'm sorry?"
Ziva rolled her eyes. "If you are planning on pranking me..." she said and then suddenly reached for the top of his head, causing him to flinch slightly.
She scoffed at his reaction, and showed him the pink flower petal she had retrieved from his hair.
He looked away, distracted by the breeze rustling through the trees, carrying away more blossoms. A flowery flurry landed on the gravel all around them, as something tickled the back of his head. Swatting in the general direction, his hand brushed against Ziva's.
As they both drew back their hands slowly, mischief fluttered in Ziva's eyes. "More flowers," she stated offhandedly. The grin on her lips grew along with his own suspicion.
Her hand brushed through his hair once more, deliberately, nimble fingers tickling his scalp. He narrowed his eyes as she failed to produce more flowers, and stared at her silently.
Tilting her head to the side, she asked, "Do you have a problem with my touching your hair?"
"I do," he said slowly, watching her grin fall like the blossoms from the trees.
Her lips formed a silent "Oh" and his heart fluttered in a breeze of courage. "But only because you don't touch it often enough."
The corners of her mouth lifted, a faint blush on her cheeks, as more flowers blew in their direction, covering their hair.
He absentmindedly plucked petals from her curls, getting lost in her eyes, and the softness of her hair, butterflies swirling in his stomach as she languidly ran her fingers through his hair.
It briefly occurred to him that they should probably get back to work, or at the very least move away from the cherry trees. And as her fingers lingered in his hair longer than necessary, his deliberately skimmed over one last flower in hers. A soft, pink remnant of a bright, warm moment between them.
And a reason to run his hands through her hair again, later.