(no subject)
NCIS Fanfiction
1.
Undercovers
His hand firm at the back of her neck, dragging her closer - skimming down the material of her dress. When she flips him over on the bed - more realistic - he gathers her hair back so it doesn't fall over her face, scooping up stray pieces, even as they trade witticisms and snark. She kisses him quickly, even as she feigns 'disgust' - that definitely wasn't his knee - because each kiss and touch one more memory she can keep.
What happened then wasn't really a lie. They could have pressed their cheeks together and the surveillance wouldn't have known better, left on her bra; truthfully, they were playing pretend because they had both wanted it, but couldn't have it - besides, Ziva recognised the look in Tony's eyes for what it was.
2.
Nightmares/Truth and Consequences of Aliyah
She keeps the curtains open, so when the nightmares wake her, she isn't completely in the dark. The ambient light expunges some of her fear - I am here, I am at home - and she looks over at her bed-side table where she keeps a single picture in her top drawer. Sometimes she takes it out and puts it under her pillow - but only on the bad nights.
3.
Star of David/gift-giving
She was just beginning to become used to finding nothing when her hand moved to fiddle with her necklace. She stares at the small velvet box and tried to think of what to say.
'Take it,' Tony says, a smile tucked into his voice. 'It's not a bribe.'
She draws the chain upward - it glints in the low light. The Star of David sways, spins and then stills. She pulls her hair to the side, unclasps it, tries to hook it behind her neck-
Tony's hands move over hers, warm and soft, guiding her fingers to the correct position. He traces the line of the necklace, at first, down to her collarbone. He brushes his fingertip across it to her shoulder, slides his hand down her arm and tangles their fingers together.
'Happy birthday, my ninja.'
4.
Paris
Neither of them had slept on the plane - Ziva had read and Tony had watched the in-flight movie. Business class was not comfortable at any rate; Ziva wanted to be refreshed for their protection detail the next day, not suffering miscellaneous aches from sleeping awkwardly on the plane.
'I am wiped,' Tony announced, as Ziva unlocked the door to their room and tried to think of a way to phrase that there was only one bed inside. 'Uh, don't I get my own key?'
'No, we're sharing a room,' Ziva replied.
'But there's two beds, right?'
Ziva stepped aside to allow him to see for himself.
'That's why you had that look on your face at reception,' Tony said, his brow furrowed. Then he shrugged, and in the same motion, removed his suit jacket, tossing it onto the floor. 'Oh well.' He flopped down on the bed, but not in the middle - to one side. 'Care to join me for a jet-lagged nap?'
Ziva scoffed, wheeling her suitcase towards the en suite. 'I am going to shower.'
'Suit yourself!'
Ziva spent a long time under a hot spray, trying to unlock her tense muscles. Not that it would do any good - apparently she was to be sleeping on the lounge. Eventually, she stepped out of the shower, dried off - at least the towels were fluffy - and pulled on a pair of more casual pants and a loose shirt. When she slid open the bathroom door, she noticed Tony was already asleep, snoring softly.
She looked between the soft bed, with its silk sheets, and the couch, with its scratchy fabric and lumpy cushions. Surely, she could just slide in beside Tony. There was plenty of room. It would not even be awkward, since he was already asleep, and she could set her internal clock so she would wake before him.
She sat down on the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress. When Tony did not stir, she tucked her legs up and lay down. She held her body still for a moment, trying to feel if Tony had woken up, but then let herself relax as Tony continued to snore. She took a deep breath of her own and closed her eyes.
She was just beginning to drift off when she felt Tony roll over, his hand bumping her back.
'Uhnn,' Tony said. Ziva waited to see if he was just mumbling in his sleep, but then, much more coherently: 'I knew you couldn't resist.'
'I can move to the couch,' Ziva replied. Tony chuckled and slung his arm over her waist.
'Nup,' Tony said, shifting closer to her, so she could feel his weight and warmth at her back. 'I'm perfectly fine with this.'
Ziva frowned, then wriggled around to face him. Tony opened his eyes and looked down at her, the corners of his mouth curled downwards. 'Are you?' she asked. 'Are you fine with this?'
Why wouldn't I be?' Tony asked, and Ziva heard in his voice the cavalier, deflecting tone he used so well. 'I'm in Paris, in a nice hotel, with a pretty lady in my arms.'
She ignored his flattery, suppressing the flood of warmth in her abdomen. 'You see? We are always flirting around this - we are always flirting!' she ended in exasperation. For some reason, the words came easily - perhaps because Tony's arms provided her with a refuge from the rejection she feared.
'I thought that's what you wanted,' he replied, so softly that Ziva glanced up from where she was glowering at a button on his shirt. 'No pressure, y'know. As if you need me messing you up after...'
'I do,' Ziva blurted out, then bit her lip, looking over Tony's shoulder at the lace curtains. How could he not see? How could he not realise, after everything she has said to him over their years together? 'I do need you.' She looked back at him, checking he hadn't completely frozen up on her. 'I told you - you always have my back - and I … I kissed you,' she faltered.
'On the cheek.'
'You knew what it meant,' Ziva pressed, not allowing him any way to back out of this, not now, not when they were so close.
'So did you. When I said that I couldn't live without you. You knew I wasn't joking, you knew I was telling the truth. Hell, I was on truth serum!'
'I was scared!' Ziva yelled, and then drew in a shaky breath. For all she got into Tony's space when they argued, it seemed different now. Their closeness wasn't an invasion of personal space - it was a comforting gesture, and it seemed immoderate to raise her voice. 'I was scared,' she repeated, in a more modulated tone.
'You don't have to be,' he said, his voice rough. He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. 'Now, let's get some sleep.'
Ziva did not move to roll over again. When Tony noticed, he tightened his arm around her, his fingertips reaching upward to play with her hair. Ziva chuckled under her breath and slid her arm down to grab his ass.
'I thought we were going to sleep.'
He stopped fiddling with her hair and nudged her hand away with his elbow - then he reached down and intertwined their fingers.
'Sweet dreams.'
'I do not doubt it.'
Ziva fell asleep with a smile on her face.
1.
Undercovers
His hand firm at the back of her neck, dragging her closer - skimming down the material of her dress. When she flips him over on the bed - more realistic - he gathers her hair back so it doesn't fall over her face, scooping up stray pieces, even as they trade witticisms and snark. She kisses him quickly, even as she feigns 'disgust' - that definitely wasn't his knee - because each kiss and touch one more memory she can keep.
What happened then wasn't really a lie. They could have pressed their cheeks together and the surveillance wouldn't have known better, left on her bra; truthfully, they were playing pretend because they had both wanted it, but couldn't have it - besides, Ziva recognised the look in Tony's eyes for what it was.
2.
Nightmares/Truth and Consequences of Aliyah
She keeps the curtains open, so when the nightmares wake her, she isn't completely in the dark. The ambient light expunges some of her fear - I am here, I am at home - and she looks over at her bed-side table where she keeps a single picture in her top drawer. Sometimes she takes it out and puts it under her pillow - but only on the bad nights.
3.
Star of David/gift-giving
She was just beginning to become used to finding nothing when her hand moved to fiddle with her necklace. She stares at the small velvet box and tried to think of what to say.
'Take it,' Tony says, a smile tucked into his voice. 'It's not a bribe.'
She draws the chain upward - it glints in the low light. The Star of David sways, spins and then stills. She pulls her hair to the side, unclasps it, tries to hook it behind her neck-
Tony's hands move over hers, warm and soft, guiding her fingers to the correct position. He traces the line of the necklace, at first, down to her collarbone. He brushes his fingertip across it to her shoulder, slides his hand down her arm and tangles their fingers together.
'Happy birthday, my ninja.'
4.
Paris
Neither of them had slept on the plane - Ziva had read and Tony had watched the in-flight movie. Business class was not comfortable at any rate; Ziva wanted to be refreshed for their protection detail the next day, not suffering miscellaneous aches from sleeping awkwardly on the plane.
'I am wiped,' Tony announced, as Ziva unlocked the door to their room and tried to think of a way to phrase that there was only one bed inside. 'Uh, don't I get my own key?'
'No, we're sharing a room,' Ziva replied.
'But there's two beds, right?'
Ziva stepped aside to allow him to see for himself.
'That's why you had that look on your face at reception,' Tony said, his brow furrowed. Then he shrugged, and in the same motion, removed his suit jacket, tossing it onto the floor. 'Oh well.' He flopped down on the bed, but not in the middle - to one side. 'Care to join me for a jet-lagged nap?'
Ziva scoffed, wheeling her suitcase towards the en suite. 'I am going to shower.'
'Suit yourself!'
Ziva spent a long time under a hot spray, trying to unlock her tense muscles. Not that it would do any good - apparently she was to be sleeping on the lounge. Eventually, she stepped out of the shower, dried off - at least the towels were fluffy - and pulled on a pair of more casual pants and a loose shirt. When she slid open the bathroom door, she noticed Tony was already asleep, snoring softly.
She looked between the soft bed, with its silk sheets, and the couch, with its scratchy fabric and lumpy cushions. Surely, she could just slide in beside Tony. There was plenty of room. It would not even be awkward, since he was already asleep, and she could set her internal clock so she would wake before him.
She sat down on the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress. When Tony did not stir, she tucked her legs up and lay down. She held her body still for a moment, trying to feel if Tony had woken up, but then let herself relax as Tony continued to snore. She took a deep breath of her own and closed her eyes.
She was just beginning to drift off when she felt Tony roll over, his hand bumping her back.
'Uhnn,' Tony said. Ziva waited to see if he was just mumbling in his sleep, but then, much more coherently: 'I knew you couldn't resist.'
'I can move to the couch,' Ziva replied. Tony chuckled and slung his arm over her waist.
'Nup,' Tony said, shifting closer to her, so she could feel his weight and warmth at her back. 'I'm perfectly fine with this.'
Ziva frowned, then wriggled around to face him. Tony opened his eyes and looked down at her, the corners of his mouth curled downwards. 'Are you?' she asked. 'Are you fine with this?'
Why wouldn't I be?' Tony asked, and Ziva heard in his voice the cavalier, deflecting tone he used so well. 'I'm in Paris, in a nice hotel, with a pretty lady in my arms.'
She ignored his flattery, suppressing the flood of warmth in her abdomen. 'You see? We are always flirting around this - we are always flirting!' she ended in exasperation. For some reason, the words came easily - perhaps because Tony's arms provided her with a refuge from the rejection she feared.
'I thought that's what you wanted,' he replied, so softly that Ziva glanced up from where she was glowering at a button on his shirt. 'No pressure, y'know. As if you need me messing you up after...'
'I do,' Ziva blurted out, then bit her lip, looking over Tony's shoulder at the lace curtains. How could he not see? How could he not realise, after everything she has said to him over their years together? 'I do need you.' She looked back at him, checking he hadn't completely frozen up on her. 'I told you - you always have my back - and I … I kissed you,' she faltered.
'On the cheek.'
'You knew what it meant,' Ziva pressed, not allowing him any way to back out of this, not now, not when they were so close.
'So did you. When I said that I couldn't live without you. You knew I wasn't joking, you knew I was telling the truth. Hell, I was on truth serum!'
'I was scared!' Ziva yelled, and then drew in a shaky breath. For all she got into Tony's space when they argued, it seemed different now. Their closeness wasn't an invasion of personal space - it was a comforting gesture, and it seemed immoderate to raise her voice. 'I was scared,' she repeated, in a more modulated tone.
'You don't have to be,' he said, his voice rough. He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. 'Now, let's get some sleep.'
Ziva did not move to roll over again. When Tony noticed, he tightened his arm around her, his fingertips reaching upward to play with her hair. Ziva chuckled under her breath and slid her arm down to grab his ass.
'I thought we were going to sleep.'
He stopped fiddling with her hair and nudged her hand away with his elbow - then he reached down and intertwined their fingers.
'Sweet dreams.'
'I do not doubt it.'
Ziva fell asleep with a smile on her face.