NCIS 1. This is all we will ever be

**Perhaps One Day**

This is a collection of one-shots that will most likely end up being connected in some sort of way or another. I plan on writing at least one a week most likely after the episode. This way everyone knows that I am still alive – if you cared. The length of these will vary, hovering more along the lines of a drabble and sometimes getting longer because I tend to get wordy. Your thoughts would be wonderful nonetheless.

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**Title:** This Is All We Will Ever Be

**Rating: **K+

**Warning**_**:**_ANGST – and no happy endings for this one

**Pairings: **Tony and Ziva

**Summary: **Because she was tired of taking one step forward and two steps back, it got them nowhere, and made her head spin with things she couldn't deciphers. She was tired of this game, so for the first time in her life she was giving up.

Dedication goes to Jes well because I want it to.

AN/ like the direction most of my stories tend to go, this will most likely end up becoming M rated... fair warning. you will be warned again if this story goes that way!

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She just feels drained; she can't keep keeping up these pretenses because when she really thinks about it there are none. Everything about their relationship is rather cut and dry, they're open with each other and there are no secrets. She gives an inch and he takes a foot; he pulls her in and she pushes him away. She really wishes that she could blame it all on him, but the truth is she can't. It is as much her fault as it is his – though a little more his because it helps to ease this ache inside of her.

She has never blatantly shoved any of her relationships in his face. In fact with the way he tends to lash out at her when he finds out about another guy in her life she tries not to tell him anything. She doesn't want to hear his hurtful words because he is filling whatever big brother complex he gained somewhere along the line. She is not his to protect, and he should know by now that she can handle herself. No man is going to bring her to her knees; she would gladly do that to them first.

He likes to flirt, she has always known that. Lately he likes to flirt whenever she is around him, but never with her. Always some girl and he makes sure that she knows that he thinks this girl is prettier, younger, _newer_. Okay so he doesn't actually come out and say that, but it is what she reads in his eyes. She would love to tell herself that he doesn't realize what he is doing, but she knows otherwise.

When he tells her that she is jealous she smiles, because maybe she is but not for the reason he would think. She is not jealous because Liat has taken her position in Mossad, and maybe even gained a piece of Eli's heart in the process. She isn't jealous that Liat is younger, because at Liat's age she had accomplished so much more. She is jealous of the fact that Liat can get away with flirting with Tony without any repercussions, that Liat's heart doesn't catch painfully when she realizes that Tony will never be a one woman man. She is jealous that Liat doesn't know Tony the way she does, and while she doesn't regret knowing him she thinks she might regret loving him. She will always love him, she thinks, but that only makes her pain greater.

The relationship that she and Tony have held for as long as they have known each other is one that consists of taking one step forward and two back. There was a time when they had only been walking forwards, but now she thinks they are only walking back. She is tired of not facing the world, so she thinks it is time to step out of this path he has forced her on.

She is exhausted by everything, and unhappy. She wants to smile freely, to laugh loudly, she wants to feel loved the way she has read about in books. She can't have that with him; they're friends, they're partners, but she sees that they can't be lovers. He won't allow it for some unknown reason, and she can't force him.

Once upon a time she could say that she had never before given up. Quitting had not been part of her vocabulary after all, and at one time she had been adamant that it never would be. She doesn't think that she can say that now, because in a way she is giving up. She doesn't want to do this anymore, she doesn't want to go home and slump on the couch because of something he said or did.

Maybe years ago she was stronger, and maybe at that time she just didn't care. Now she just feels weak, and she cares too much. This is the reason that she can't continue on this path, this is the reason why things turned out the way they did.

She has given up whatever hope she once held, and she can't even bring herself to mourn this fact.

"This is all we will ever be," she whispers as she strides passed him, and her chest feels lighter. She doesn't see the way he looks at her, because it might have been her breaking point.

She wants to move on, but she knows that she won't. At least this way she knows that whatever claim she thought she may have had over him is null and void, because she has given up all rights to that.

She hopes he is happy though she doesn't think that is the case. She would call him on it, if she didn't have other things to worry about.

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**Review? Please? **

**Oh and for anyone who may have tried to PM me sometime between October and now … well somehow my PM got turned off, I changed that. So PM away. (And review away as well :D)**

**Any thoughts as to what episode this is related to? All give you a hint, it was one in season 8 :D  
**


	2. It's good to cry, sometimes

**Perhaps One Day**

Part Deux of my 'POD' series. It isn't directly related to Part One, but there are tiny allusions to it. I believe that that may be addressed in a later one shot.

**Title**: It's good to cry, sometimes.

**Rating:** K+

**Pairings: **None ... unless you squint then maybe TIVA (by squint I mean close your eyes and pretend)

**Warnings:** Spoilery-ness to Enemies Foreign.

**Summary:** Her father had left her, and she feels like she has just been passed up for something better again. She will never come first, she sees that now.

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She still has those tears in her eyes when he walks back in. She is staring at nothing but the space that her father had vacated sometime before, and she wants to go back to that moment when he was cradling her face in his warm hands so she can tell him that she loves him - she feels like a child, seeking her father's attention above all else. It was a moment of weakness that seized her chest as he stood there before her, and she wants to have that moment back because she feels that she won't get the chance to do so again. She doesn't forgive him for everything he has done, but she can't begrudge him for acting out his sense of duty - she had been the same at one point.

Tony doesn't ask if she is okay, just sits on the edge of her desk and fiddles with the miniature Israeli flag that now adorns her pen-cup. It's something that just fits, looks so right sitting there on the edge of her desk and he wants to get her an American flag to sit nestled right alongside of it because that is what she is now, an Israeli-American. She is an Israeli by birth and an American by certificate – both have intermingled in her heart, and though she sometimes tries to will away her birthright he knows how she feels.

"You okay?" he asks after a second, and he hates the way she jumps at his presence. She has been recoiling from him since he had stated the Israeli's had come back, and he doesn't like it. He wants her to want to be around him, because he wants to be around her. He recalls her words from a few days prior and he feels his heart clench in the way it had been doing since the words fell from her lips.

"Fine," she bristles, wiping away the tears that haven't even fallen out of her eyes because she won't let them. The fact that she is furiously scrubbing her face anyway pains him because she does not allow herself that moment of relief.

"It's okay to cry," he states nonchalantly, and he scoots just a smidge closer to her so that his leg is brushing against her knee. She draws back, and crosses her arms as if she doesn't believe him but it is the distance that really pains him. He guesses that that is okay, because he isn't one to show his emotions often, if ever, and he definitely isn't one to accept help. "It is good to cry, sometimes," he reiterates, and he wants to cup her face in his hand but he is not sure that she will let him.

"When has it ever been okay for me to cry?" she asks in such a harsh tone that he finds his own self recoiling. She has a fire in her voice in that moment, and he wonders just what hidden meaning she is implying. "Every time I have shed tears it has done no one any good," she murmurs, and she wipes at her face once more as though one of the damned tears she is cursing has somehow escaped her notice.

"Did you feel better?" he asks, though he knows he is prying. It is what he does, and if he has to pry to get her to open up to him again he will, he will use a crowbar if absolutely necessary.

"That does not matter," she glares at him, and she pushes at his hip on top of her desk because she wants him to be further away from him than he is. When he doesn't budge she gives up, she is not going to make a scene when ignoring him will work just as efficiently. "I do not need to cry." The word 'ever' hangs in the air unsaid, and he would believe her if her eyes weren't rimmed with red, and she still didn't have hunched shoulders as if she was holding herself back from doing just that.

He tries a different approach, not to cause her harm but to make her understand something he is vaguely sure that she doesn't. "He loves you, you know," it's kind of sudden, his words. She is staring at him again as though she really wishes he would leave her alone but he is not backing down. Not right now, she needs him, though she won't realize it until much later.

"Who?" her accented words curl around the 'h', causing it to flit across the air in an abrupt manner that makes him want to smile. He fights it, now is not the time.

"Your father," he reiterates, and she is closing herself off quicker than he can move and her face is a hardened mask that he is so used to seeing. He wishes she wouldn't bother with him, he can see through her fronts and the hallow hints to her eyes makes him ache inside.

"That is none of your business," it is by no means an answer to his statement, and he realizes that she is simply refusing to acknowledge it because she doesn't know that his words are the truth. He sees a lost little girl vying for her father's attention, and he realizes why she had been so jealous of Liat to begin with. He really hadn't helped matters by flirting incessantly with the young Mossad officer, but old habits die hard and when an opportunity presents itself he can't help but to take it.

"Maybe not," he accedes, and he drops it for now. One day she will see her father's obvious love for her, though the man's intentions were a little skewed, but right now was clearly not that time.

They are silent for a moment, him staring down at the top of her head while she worked furiously at her keyboard in attempt to ignore him. It wasn't long before she shoved the object away from her to look at him with tears in her eyes once more. "Liat reminded me of Tali in a way," she said unexpectedly, and he jolts at the mention of her younger sister. That time outside the Embasero hotel had been the first and last time they had talked about her. "Liat was skittish, though she tried to hide it with her knowledge of the inner workings of Mossad," there was a pause, where Ziva smiled fondly and Tony just knew that the quirk of her lips was not because she was fondly thinking of the living woman. "I could see it in her eyes," she whispered, and she gets lost in her memories as the tears begin to come forth again. She stops them before they can escape the rim of her eyelid, and she hisses as the wetness touches her fingers. She really hates tears, and she hates even more that Tony sees them. She already feels weak enough around him; she does not wish to give him any more ammo.

He finds himself wondering about her impromptu story, there really hadn't been much resolution to it, and he thinks it might have just caused her further pain to remember her fallen sister. He thinks maybe her dislike for Liat might have been a bit more understandable now. Besides the obvious, seeing her sister when looking into the young woman's eyes must have been unbearable.

"My father always did love Tali more," she states quietly, and she is not even facing him anymore.

It breaks something inside of him, and he finds himself spinning her chair back around to face him so that he can see what she looks like. Gone are the shutters that she usually holds in place, and instead he sees the tears making streaks across her skin that she tried so futilely to get rid of before.

The meaning he hears behind her words is painfully obvious, and he wants to tell her that she is being absurd, her father couldn't love Liat more than her. He doesn't say anything along those lines, instead he draws her into her arms and tells her that crying will do her good.

Eventually when her breath stops hitching, and she has seemingly gotten her tears back under control he pulls back from the embrace he had initiated. His fingers are still grasping her shoulders tightly as he looks in her haggard appearance, she looks worn out and tired, and he just wants to hold her some more. That territory is not something he can go into though, not with the way she has been acting towards him.

"You don't need to worry about your father," he states easily, and before she can shrug him off and go back to hating him he continues, "because you have Gibbs' love."

She smiles at him, a big fat watery smile that causes his heart to catch and he can't stop himself from wrapping his arms around her again.

Sometimes it is okay to cry, and sometimes it is okay to love: America has taught her that.

##

**I hope no one is too upset that this is not in direct correlation to the previous one. This was written after I spent some time rewatching the episodes. This is what I do in my off time of work, well that and clean ... I think we all know which one I like better.  
**

**Reviews would be love.**

**All reviews will be replied to tomorrow, I just got home from work and I have to head back at 4am (yay 4 hours of sleep!)**


	3. Pushing is as effective as pulling

**Perhaps One Day**

Part 3 is here for you. This little ditty helps to tie together the previous two. I am not entirely sure where these are leading as I have said before, but I like to think that the road to get there will be epic, and worth it. Your thoughts are always appreciated, and I cherish each one close to my heart. Honestly, each and every bit of feedback is well received, and I look forward to reading them over and over again.

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**Title:** Pushing is as effective as pulling.

**Rating:** K+

**Pairings:** Still TIVA – hasn't changed.

**Warnings:** Possible Season 8 spoilers.

**Summary: **The ground that they stand upon is shaky at best. She does not know what surface is safe to rest upon, and what will be left standing upon the resolution of it all. She's lost, and she hates it.

**AN/: **This one-shot does not directly relate to an episode, cause like I said some will be random, and some will occur as a direct correlation to an episode, this is one of those random ones. The next piece will be a tag to 'False Witness'.

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Honestly, she is not entirely sure how she is supposed to act now. Things are different, and the status quo doesn't seem to cut it anymore and she just feels lost. She hates it.

Whatever it is that has been happening between them has caused things to become strained between them, though she can only think that she is to blame for this. She won't let things go back to how they were because she can't handle that, but she doesn't know where else they can go from here.

After his random bout of affection -she likes to call it this because there isn't any other name for it – she can't help but to push him away. He has shown that he can easily break through her defenses, and she thinks that he may be getting too close. This is something she cannot allow to happen, especially not after she has resolved to keep him at an arm's length. She can't let him in; she doesn't think she can survive it. Not again, especially not after everything they have gone through.

Her resolve doesn't stop her from staring after him though, she didn't think it would. He has a way of seeming so effortless in his tasks that she can't help but to be drawn to the sight of him. His aura is strong, and she likes to see him confidently working away. She also can't stop herself from thinking about him when _she _should be working, it's a problem she has and she thinks that sometimes it frustrates Gibbs because she gets lost in her thoughts and falls behind on paperwork. It doesn't happen that often, just enough that Gibbs has had to issue more than a few head slaps in her direction. She wishes she had a strong grip over her self control, because when it comes to Tony it seems to be severely lacking.

So instead of forcing herself into doing things that she can clearly not accomplish she tries to avoid him, but he seeks her out like a heat seeking missile after a horde of elephant and hiding from him is not what it used to be. She feels like she is losing her touch, because at one point in time she had been able to slip away unnoticed, but not it seems that his eyes are always drawn to her when she makes the slightest of movements. She doesn't think about what this could mean, she merely concludes that it is his way of torturing her in ways that only he can do.

She can feel her apprehension mounting as his eyes dig into the back of her head, and she fidgets because she does not want to interrupt Gibbs as he informs them of the latest case. Her eyes are glued to the plasma, because if she counts the pixels the screen contains then she won't think about what he could possibly be scrutinizing.

"Knock it off," she hisses, the words falling from her lips unfiltered but she does not regret them. Gibbs' back is turned, and her words were just soft enough to escape his notice, but Tony heard it loud and clear. The fact that an innocent mask slips across his features just as she turns to glare at him makes her furious, and she just knows he is toying with her. She has known him for years after all.

"I'm not doing anything," he insists, his voice slightly louder than hers and she can't stop her fingers from curling into tight little kinks because smacking him really seems to be in her best interests right now. At the very least some of her frustrations could be marked off the list.

"Well," she turns away from him, crossing her arms beneath her chest in a way she knows is stubborn, "go 'not do anything' somewhere other than in _my_ space." It's a childish taunt that makes her feel a lot better. She is frazzled, and he is not helping matters by standing so close to her, and breathings his hot breath against the nape of her neck, it really just is not fair. What he is doing is on purpose she can tell, and she wonders if this is all some sort of sick game to him, if taunting her with everything she cannot have makes him that much happier on the inside. She can't say she would be surprised, he gets under her skin enough for it to be true.

"Sorry, can't do that," he shrugs indifferently, and though she doesn't actually see him do it she can feel it and that irks her all the more. "I am content right where I am." He is smiling, and he seems genuinely happy with the way things are, she wonders how that can be.

"Move!" she snaps when her control gives just an inch, and she feels her cheeks heat the tiniest bit when both Gibbs and McGee turn her way – Tony has been staring at her non-stop already.

"Everything alright, Ziver?" Gibbs questions, and she would be touched by his concern if he hadn't been giving her an exceptionally wide berth since before her departure – it only grew after her father left just one day ago and she thinks that that is contributing to her fragile state of mine. Of course her father would be the cause of this as well, it would not be the first time he cost someone their sanity.

"I am fine," she stresses, waving her arms frantically in the air as though that will somehow get her point across better than just words. "Everything just needs to return to normal, yes? So just … stop worrying." When Gibbs nods, and McGee smiles she feels a bit guilty for snapping so easily. She should feel grateful that they care so much, and instead she is biting off their heads at her earliest convenience.

"A little testy there, aren't we?" Tony questions, and it is with his short statement that she is brought back to square one.

She is tired, and drained. Every time she closes her eyes she see's Tony eyeing some woman with a look so intense that it makes her want to fight somebody. She doesn't understand it, so she tries to ignore it – in time everything will be fine, at least she hopes. "Not now," she presses, when she hears his lips open to drive more words into her skull. "Please," she whispers and she is not sure that she meant for him to hear it or not, but she knows he did when his presence retreats the tiniest bit.

Her shoulders sag in relief, and the tensions her body has accumulated over the past few days slip out of her body, draining along her spine. Logically, she realizes she doesn't need to be on guard here, but when he is so close to her she feels that the fortress that surrounds her heart is not enough to protect her from Tony. She needs to do everything in her power to make sure it stays standing, because no good has come over letting someone in.

He is more than a little shocked at her pleading. The fact that she sounds even more exhausted then she looks really nags at him, and he wishes that she would allow him to pull her into his arms again like he had just a day prior. She won't let herself be a lone with him, and even though it hurts he thinks he might understand. Ziva has lived her life protecting herself from every possible threat, he wonders just when he first fell into that category.

It hurts to see her distancing herself from him, but no matter how hard he pushes she just continues to run away. He doesn't know what to say to her, and any of the words he deemed appropriate do not seem to be enough, so he keeps his lips sealed because he does not want to make matters any worse. He knows that Ziva is not one to give up, and the fact that she has so clearly given up on him makes him furious. He won't stand for it, he can't let it go.

His current plan of action seems to be getting him nowhere, maybe he just needs to wait for her to stop running from him. Patience is definitely not one of his virtues, but for her he will try. He will wait, and he will let her know that he is there for her when she is ready.

Perhaps one day she will see that they can be more than what they currently are. He finally sees that now, he just hopes that he isn't too late to make her understand as well.

##

**Third installment finished. I hope you all are still enjoying this. I know that it is moving kind of slow, but relationships take time. The two of them have to work out a lot before they can move forward together, but you all see the progress that is being made right? I hope so. **

**Reviews feed my soul, don't you want my soul to be fed?**


	4. Many things can be seen in her eyes

**Perhaps One Day**

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So I really have no idea how many of these there will be. It seems that they have all taken place after each new episode, but then again I haven't been watching much NCIS lately because my life is keeping me occupied. I might get thoughts for new pieces here and there, so if I do they will be written out. If not, then you can probably expect one after each episode, I am just saying.

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**Title:** Her Eyes

**Rating:** K+

**Pairings:** Tony and Ziva

**Warnings:** Spoilers for "False Witness" - though they are only slight.

**Summary:** He told her she had the eyes of a killer; she can't help but to be caught up in that. It is Tony who makes her realize that not everything can be based off of first appearances.

**AN:** I think these are all tying in together rather nicely if I do say so myself. They aren't exactly related, but like the episodes you can see some relation, yes?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own NCIS, nor do I own the beauty that is Pat Monahan's "Her Eyes" - seriously, go listen to that song like right now.

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_Her eyes, that's where hope lies_

_That's where blue skies meet the sun rise._

_Her eyes, that's where I go_

_When I come home. _

_- Pat Monahan "Her Eyes"  
_

She knows she might be acting just a bit selfish, it is a tough time for everyone and yet she can't stop thinking about herself. It's more than that though, because the things she is thinking about deals directly with the people she cares most about. What must the think of her if a complete stranger can pinpoint her past with nothing more than a casual perusal?

Her foundation is shaken, and she hates how easily that can happen to her now. She blames her father, she blames herself, but most of all she blames the weakness that reside within her that she cannot overcome. She will not escape the path that she has walked down, there is no turning back and now shortcuts. She has to continue on and deal with whatever consequences come her way.

She doesn't dwell too long on her own feelings because she can't. Tony is going through something, and she knows that she can help him. She talked to him once; he pulled one prank that had her heart racing and her psyche reverting back to a time she would rather forget but she knows that things are not finished. She thinks that that might be part of the reason why she shows up at his door with a box filled with pepperoni and sausage pizza and a case of beer – also she knows that she has been missing his company, a fact she will not admit to anyone but him if he were to ask. She is beginning to feel like she can be around him again, and while she doesn't know if she can keep her heart from beating for him, she does know that they can be friends again. Like they once were.

"This is new," he tells her, and she feels her stomach clench in a way that causes her breathing to shorten. It's not new, not really. Once upon a time this would have been considered normal, once upon a time his words would not have caused her physical harm. She hates that they have come to this, though what 'this' is she does not really understand.

"People change, Tony," she mocks, because it is what they do; and it makes her feel safe from the demons she knows can easily be found within the green depths of his eyes. He is her greatest fear, her greatest weakness.

He opens his mouth with a retort that she knows will sting and she doesn't give him the satisfaction of voicing it. Instead she shoves the pizza box into his stomach and pushes passed him on her way to the couch.

She has two bottles of beer cracked and waiting for them when he finally sees fit to follow her, and the arch of his eyebrow is nearly unsettling. "What's eating you?" he questions once he is seated next to her, a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth.

She knows he is asking because she asked him; but there is a small part of her that wishes that he is asking because he truly cares. She has always been blind to matters of the heart, her father had once told her that that was why she would make a great Mossad Officer though he never once told her that it would cause her to fail as a woman.

"It is nothing," she replies somberly, and she flips to a channel that she knows plays movies all the time.

She doesn't know what is playing, and she can honestly say that she doesn't care because sitting here with him makes her feel just a bit better, she allows herself to relish in it for a brief moment. She can forget Jerry's words and instead focus on who she had been trying to become. Ziva David is an American now, and she is no longer some soulless killer.

Despite the fact that her mind has been trying to reassure her she is jilted back to that feeling she felt when she was first told she had the eyes of a killer. She didn't know what it meant, or what to think, but she knew that it was not what she wanted to hear.

She turns towards Tony suddenly, taking the beer from his hands and placing it on the table as he shoves the last piece of crust into his mouth.

"When you look into my eyes what do you see?" she asks, and her grip on his fingers might have become a bit harder than necessary but she needs honesty more than she needs anything else. If she is honest with herself she doesn't even remember taking his hand in the first place.

"Brown," he mumbles sarcastically over the mouthful of bread and she deftly finds a pressure point that sends that food lodged in his throat on a path straight to his stomach.

He coughs as he swallows, choking slightly before he meets her eyes with a searching look that she wants to hide from. She started this, and she needs to know so she doesn't back down. One thing she can count on is the fact that she would never back down from anything, it is all due to her stubborn nature.

There is silence between them filled with him staring at her and her staring at his shirt. She wants to know, but the painful quiet that surrounds them is nearly awkward enough to make her give up, but she holds strong and it is only moments later when she is finally granted with a reprieve.

"I see warmth," he says softly, and she nods because she can accept this. She didn't know what to expect really, but this is something she can deal with. Right now, anything is better than killer.

She is about to pull away from him and return her attentions to the movie when he speaks again, and her eyes are drawn to his because this is more open and honest than what they are used to. She wonders if he had been right about changes. "I see friendship," he murmurs and the smile on his lips nearly melts her. He holds her in the palm of his hand now, and she thinks that she might be okay with that.

His fingers curl around hers, and she is shocked to see something flicker across his gaze that he usually keeps hidden. She doesn't know what is going on but she thinks maybe the tables have turned on her, and she is no longer stressing over what Jerry said to her because she is too lost in Tony to even care. "I see love," it's a breathless murmur that causes her heart to pound and her eyes to widen.

Tony could always read her better than anyone, and with his face mere inches away from her own she thinks he can probably read her thoughts to. This makes her wonder why he hasn't kissed her yet, because for the past however long that has been all she could think about.

The ringing of his cell phone pulls her out of the moment, and when he relinquishes her hands she is not sure whether she is happy for the save, or angry at the interruption.

When Tony sits down next to her the air crackles, and she can feel that this is only the beginning of the changes that are about to take place. The excitement that wells within her is palpable, and all she can think now is that she can't wait. She knows it would be wise for her to run away from whatever it is that is happening between them, but like Tony had mentioned earlier: people change.

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**Unbetaed, as is all my work.**

**I am enjoying these one-shots. They make me smile. **

**Thoughts are welcome. More than welcome really.  
**


	5. A pen is a pen

**Perhaps One Day**

Numero Cinque of my POD-series. How are you hanging in there? Still with me? I think there might be two for the last episode … maybe more. I was a bit overly inspired by the things I saw. I don't know if these are going to string together as nicely from here on out but I can try.

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**Title: **a pen is a pen, until it means more

**Rating: **K

**Pairings: **Tony/Ziva – at least that is the consensus.

**Warning: **Spoilers for Season 8 episodes.

**Summary: **That pen she hands him is his lifeline, she just doesn't notice – because neither does he.

**AN: **So, I had a lot of ideas for the last episode, which I hope to touch down on, but my computer went a little on the fritz and it took me awhile to get one done. I hope to get more done before the next episode we shall see.

**Disclaimer: **Words are legal, use them wisely.

**##**

Some thing's fly under the radar until you are forced to pay attention to them. Their nature is imperceptible, and it isn't until the tough times when you realize what they mean to you. He thinks that Ziva houses these qualities, because he didn't notice until he was forced to.

She is always there for him; he is only just beginning to see that. When she handed him the pen it was like a beacon of hope shining in her hand, and on some plain he had realized that without her he would have had to remember everything that went on in the interview, and he is not as young as he used to be.

Her lips had quirked in that gentle, telling way of hers, and he knows that there was slight taunting in that cracked smile, but he can't stop himself from grinning back at her. It is moments like this that make him aware of the change in her. He relishes it; he just hasn't gotten up the courage to tell her.

He can't help but to recall the moment she had given him the pen over and over again, because he hadn't thanked her. At some point her bailing him out had become expected, and around that time he understood he would do the same thing for her. He doesn't think that she knows that though, and he wonders if he should tell her.

"You want your pen back?" he questions her as she sits at her desk tapping away at her keyboard, and it is not what he meant to say but he figures it will do. He sits on the edge of her desk waving the pen in her face hoping to get some sort of reaction out of her; he has been doing that a lot lately, because he figures if he pushes her hard enough then they can break free of this standstill move forward. He really wants to move forward.

She shrugs her shoulders, eying the waggling pen for a brief moment before turning back to her work. "Keep it," she states, and she cuts her eyes at him in a way that he is sure supposed to mean something. He just isn't sure what that something might be.

"I don't want you to complain about me stealing your pen's," he urges, and he taps the pen against the back of her hand only to have her grasp it firmly between her thumb and forefinger and push it further into his own hands.

"What will you throw at me if you do not have any pens?" Her question is innocent enough, and she is looking up at him with her tilted head and quirked lips and he can't help but to smile back.

"I'm sure I would find something," he hints, and it's very vague but he hopes she understands. She doesn't, and he thinks that he might have to come right out and say it. He just doesn't really know how.

"I do not doubt you Tony." Her words are soft, and suddenly he is in a place where they aren't talking about pens anymore, and he wonders if she is in that place as well.

He tucks the pen away in his pocket, because she gave it to him, and like everything she has given to him, he doesn't want to lose it. "I'm going to remember you said that," he states smugly, and he knows he has just defaulted to something he was trying to hold in but it's not bad and he knows he didn't just ruin the carefully threaded ground that they are walking on because she smiles at him with a hint of warmth.

He pushes off her desk, because he is really tired and he figures that he can do a bit more work before he is rendered completely useless. It has been a long day, and his head is pounding as if his brain is about to burst out of his temples, and if it relieves the pressure of his mind he thinks it might be welcome.

He is nearly to his desk when she responds and he finds that fact alone to be shocking, but not nearly as shocking as the words that fall from her lips. "I hope that you do," she says, and even though it's just barely loud enough for him to hear, he tucks her words away with the pen. He plans on keeping them too.

##

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**My cat is currently pawing at my pen, the one I was supposed to be doing homework with. Excuse? I think yes. **

**Do you want more? I hope so, because more than likely you are going to get more.**

**Review please. :]**


	6. Jealousy thy name is Tony

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

Part six is here, and in an ordinate amount of time. I actually wrote this while watching Veronica Mars – so a tiny bit of inspiration came from that. (Sweet tensions of LoVe tend to do that to anyone)

* * *

**Title: **Jealousy thy name is Tony

**Rating: **K

**Pairing: **Tony/Ziva

**Warning: **Spoilers for season 8 – you've been forewarned.

**Summary: **Jealousy, its everywhere, and she is a little bit sick of it because it does nothing to help who they are.

**AN: **This may seem like a step back, but it's not. Progress can be seen if you do a gentle squinting motion. Try it.

**Disclaimer: **"I started in the middle, a good book can grab you anywhere."**  
**

**##**

She is tired of this feeling, it wears her down and makes her exhausted – and no amount of bat naps makes that any easier on her. It courses through her belly sometimes when she least expects it too, and each time she is left breathless and hopeless because it was not supposed to happen this way.

She is jealous of him. The girls that he takes him make her feel incompetent in a way she shouldn't, though lately that number seems to have dwindled as of late. She is jealous of all that they can't be, and she is jealous that she is the only one who feels these things.

Of course there had been moments where she thought he was jealous, but each time he had shot down her accusation with cruel words that made her insides seize and her resolve to harden. They can be friends, but anything more is out of the question.

"What day are you leaving?" He questions her, and she bites her lip because this is just another way that they can run in circles. He pushes for answers to questions she can't answer, and she tells him he is jealous only for him to spin her statement on its head, making her realize she might have been wrong.

Her shoulders slump a bit, and she brings the book just a bit higher so that it covers nearly the entirety of her face. It doesn't stop the tension wafting from his form and she sighs as she snaps the book closed. "Wednesday," she acquiesces, and she instantly regrets it when he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth.

"You're leaving in the middle of the week?" He sounds downright angry about it, like somehow her leaving in the middle of the week is different than her leaving at the beginning of it, or the end.

She doesn't understand him, and she thinks maybe she never well. "I said I was going to be gone for three days," she tells him softly, like she is speaking to a young child who has just had a tantrum – under some circumstances she thinks that might just be the case.

"You didn't say it was going to be a Wednesday!" His voice has risen an octave, the way it does when he particularly doesn't like something, and clearly he doesn't like what she has told him.

"What difference does it make?" she questions, and she crosses her arms and glares at him because he really doesn't get it.

"It makes a whole lot of difference," he crosses his arms too, and their standing toe to toe now as if they're having a major face-off. The tug of her heart tells her it just might come to that. "Wednesday means I won't see you till Monday. That is more than three days, Ziva!"

She shakes her head slowly, because even though they made it to the heart of the problem she doesn't think that he realizes why he is so upset. To be honest she isn't quite sure of why he is either. "I _am_ coming back, Tony." It's the only thing she can think of saying, and she thinks it might make him feel a bit better because his shoulders relax just a bit.

"You two gonna get any work done today?" Gibbs questions and they only take a step back to let him stroll through before staring each other down once more.

"Of course, Gibbs," Ziva states, though her eyes are still on Tony. She wonders what is making him act this way, because while a large part of her thinks its jealousy, another smaller part knows that that probably isn't the case.

The time must pass by quickly, because Gibbs' impatience is palpable in the way he slurps down the last of his coffee and tosses the container into his trash with enough force to rattle the can. "Sometime soon, I hope."

They both walk slowly to their desks, and once they are seated behind it they return each other's glances before turning away. Ziva can feel that she isn't going to get the answers she wants anytime soon, and when she pushes the matted hair off her forehead she feels like she didn't get nearly enough sleep on her day off.

##

"So, what are you plans for this mini vacation of yours?" He settles himself directly behind her desk, making himself comfy as he leans against the makeshift wall behind him.

She casts a look over her shoulder, one that he reads as far too innocent to really be innocent and his blood boils. "This and that."

"Well, what does 'this and that' entail?" He is pushing this, and he just wants her to give an inch because he really doesn't know how he is going to handle three days without her being at work with him, and five days without actually seeing her. If he knew what they were going to be doing perhaps this queasy feeling in his stomach would settle up a bit.

"Do you really want to know?" She turns to face him completely, leaning against her chair as she takes in his full form. His arms are crossed, as are his ankles, and he looks to be closing off rather quickly and her heart reaches for him. She can't tell him though; Ray is a friend that she takes comfort in, sharing that with Tony might make the relationship seem superficial at best.

"Yes!" He doesn't want to know, he _needs_ too, but telling her that would only give her even more of an advantage.

She shakes her head slowly, and her eyes do something that he thinks might be softening, but it could have been a trick of the light. "It is none of your business," she presses, and she meant to tell him that the whole trip was nothing. She is feeding his insecurities without meaning too, and when she sees his shoulders hunt she feels a little bit bad about it, but not enough to correct her words.

He nods his head, and when he makes eye contact with her again she feels like she might be making a mistake leading him on like this. It can only spell disaster, and she thinks they might have already seen too much of that to survive any more. Still she doesn't tell the truth, she wonders what that means for them.

He pushes off the cabinet without sparing her a glance, and she feels her heart clench again at the way it makes her feel

There is silence surrounding them for the rest of the afternoon, and she thinks Wednesday can't get here fast enough. Tony made feelings swirl within her belly at such a rapid pace that she felt sick half the time, Ray did not. She knows what that means, but she can't do anything to change it – it's just the way things have become.

His frustrated sigh snaps the around the air around them, cackling with frustration that has her head snapping up and her mind to flurry because he is staring at her and she didn't even feel it. "Okay. You're right."

It's a statement that could mean anything, but his eyes tell her the truth, and she smiles at him in an attempt to placate him. He _is_ jealous, and though he won't come right out and say it he is willing to admit that she is right. "Do not worry." She tells him, and it's her own way of telling him that he really shouldn't be worrying about her relationship with Ray because there really is nothing there.

She knows that that's not what he needs to hear, but right now it is all that she can say. She hopes that that will be enough.

**##**

**

* * *

**

**This is addressing the Mr. Miami issue, because I know for a fact it is eating at him. It kind of has to be with the way he can't let it drop. Ziva's evasiveness might just be Tony's undoing, and Tony's undoing might just be the push Ziva needs to finally open up. This was a play on it. **

**Stay tuned for more.**


	7. Miss me sweetly

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

I think this is moving along smoothly. Slow and steady wins the race, and this will win that proverbial race. I really am having fun bending the episodes into this; and from here on out I think it's going to start bending that much more.

* * *

**Title: **Miss me sweetly

**Rating: **K

**Pairings: **Tony and Ziva

**Warning: **Tag to 8x12 "Recruitment"

**Summary: **He missed her; he just wasn't going to tell her that.

**AN: Honestly, "Recruitment" was a very beautiful episode in my opinion. I enjoyed it, and the end scene was very touching. I always enjoy a little back story, and Magnus was a good addition. **

**Disclaimer: Feed me.**

**##

* * *

**

"You missed me." Her words wrap around him and it is as if she is standing right next to him, instead of on the other side of the divider. He shivers at her tone, and he wonders when he became so see-through. "Yes?" All it takes is one simple word, and her statement is transformed into a question, but he knows he has already given himself away; he figures she knows as well.

"I did not," he tries anyway, and he's holding in a nervous chuckle as he turns to stare at her. Her eyebrow is quirked as she rests her chin on her folded arms.

She nods slowly, giving him that same coy smile that she has been giving him a lot lately and he wants to ask her about it. He thinks it might mean something, he can only hope. "I did not miss you either," she intones, and her lips are quirking upwards from that soft smile to a naughty smirk. He wonders what happened on her vacation, and why she is in such a good mood all of a sudden. Scratch that he would rather not know.

He nods at her once, before turning back around to face his desk. His neck is prickling as the tiny hairs stand up and he knows that she is still there, staring, waiting. He cracks his knuckles to release the tensions in his body, the ones that she has caused. Unknowingly of course.

"Did you enjoy your weekend?" Her question seems nice enough, but he knows that she is fishing. If he says that he had a horrible weekend then she will know that he spent the whole time brooding over her absence, and if he said that his weekend was fantastic then she will think he doesn't care about her presence. It's a trap, and no matter what he says he loses, so he purses his lips and pretends that he did not hear her. "I know you heard me," she announces and he wonders when she learned to read minds. She is standing in front of him now, eyebrow arched and hip jutted. She means business, and he knows he is screwed.

He heaves a heavy sigh out through his nose, scrubbing his face with his hands slowly before he looks up at her. Her brown eyes are piercing straight through him as he tries to wrap his head around the words that currently fail him. It doesn't work, and he really wishes she would stop looking at him like that. "It was okay," he says finally, and it is the perfect answer because it stands on neutral ground. He really hopes that it doesn't cause her to lash out and strike him in the back of the neck because he thinks he might be getting a pinched nerve as a result of too many head slaps; he can't be certain.

She nods knowingly, and the way she continues to stare at him is like she wants him to say something more but he keeps his mouth shut. Instead he looks at her, really looks at her, taking in her soft brown hair that has been immaculately straightened. He wants to ask why she never lets it lay curly anymore, but it's not his place. It doesn't matter what she does to her hair, because no matter what she looks beautiful, but he can't tell her that either. He focuses on her soft pink lips, so very kissable with their pouty nature. He can't help but to wonder if Ray spent the weekend worshipping those very same lips, the thought makes his blood boil.

Her sigh brings him back, and he can feel the way his eyebrows have tightened into a furrow as he scowls at his thoughts. He relaxes his muscles when he sees that she is uneasy, and he rolls his shoulders once before smiling at her. It's as genuine as he can make it with jealousy coursing through his veins, but he thinks it is progress. "How was your vacation, Ziva?" He states, and he surprises himself with how easy it was for him not to grit his teeth once. He is getting better at this, but it doesn't stop his heart from squeezing painfully.

"It went well," she offers, and she has her hands dug so deep into her jacket pocket that he wonders what she is hiding. "I brought you something though." She pulls her hand out of her pocket, concealing whatever is in her grasp with folded fingers.

He sits up eagerly, and he feels like a kid on Christmas morning. He has to calm himself down so he doesn't pry her fingers open, but he really wants to know what it is.

"Close your eyes, Tony," she suggests, and he gulps as he eyes her hand once more before looking into her eyes again.

"You don't have a paperclip in that hand do you?" he jokes, and when he sees her glare his eyes fall closed out of habit. He doesn't want to anger her, not when she is in the mood she is in.

His ears perk up at the soft thud that sounds in front of him, and he has to squeeze his eyes tightly so they don't fly open with his eagerness. He is really curious, and he doesn't know why his heart is beating with such ferocity.

"Open your eyes."

He doesn't immediately look at the object on his desk, his eyes focus on her taking in her lightened expression with a calculated eye. She is fidgeting in a Ziva-esque way, meaning it's not obvious, and he only knows because he spent years learning her tells. Her wrist is ticking occasionally, not in the antsy get-your-gun motion she does when chasing a suspect, but in an uncomfortable way that tells him she is ready to put her guard up. Its minute, but he still has the urge to reach over and grasp her hand to still her movements.

When her impatience begins to get the better of her he looks down, because he is just as eager as she is. He blinks slowly, wondering if the small bag in front of him will disappear. When it doesn't, he picks it up turning it over in his hands as he stares in astonishment

"How did you know?" He questions, though he really shouldn't have to. Ziva knows things; he should be used to it by now.

"You told me." Her voice tells him he should remember that, which he did he just didn't think _she _did. He'd been wrong; it definitely wasn't the first time.

"Thank you, Ziva," he says, and he is looking at her with honest eyes. The space in front of them is shifting, turning into something that allows them to feel the air beat with the drumming of their hearts. It's intimate, he revels in it.

"And I do not think anyone can forget the day you nagged about missing Vermont's famous _Middlebury Malt Balls_." Her voice cracks with tension, and he knows that she felt it too. She just isn't ready to let it happen yet, which is okay with him because the only thing that really matters is that she remembered.

And they both know he only really mentioned them once.

**##

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**

**I really have no idea what this is turning into. I kind of like it though, don't you? I have never tried any **_**Middlebury Sweets**_** but they're a pretty famous candy in Vermont, and I wanted Ziva to bring back Tony something so there we go. **

**Review!**


	8. I am not a robot

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

Do you all remember that time where I said some of these one-shots would be connected and some wouldn't? Well this is one of the one's that won't be connected. In fact it is very random, and means nothing to any of the other ones. Unless of course you can pick out some details that intertwine, then that was intentional. :P

* * *

**Title: **I'm not a robot.

**Rating: **K+

**Pairing: **None. (But really Tony/Ziva).

**Warning: **Completely random. Maybe.

**Summary: **Sometimes she feels that she doesn't have a heart, and other times she wishes that she didn't.

**AN: **I haven't even watched the newest episode of NCIS (too much going on), and I still need a tag to "Freedom". Which will be coming soon, I have one started I just needed to get this out.

**Disclaimer:** Disclaim this!**  


* * *

**

**##**

There are moments when she thinks that she might not have any feelings. Like if her heart didn't need to beat for her to go on living than she wouldn't have it at all. She feels like an open void of nothing, and it causes her head to ache when she thinks about it too hard.

He blows these thoughts out of the water. There are times when he lets her know that she feels as strongly as anyone else, she just shows it differently. She is grateful for this, because without him she thinks she might have lost herself along the way.

Then there are other times when he causes these feelings to ratchet within her chest, and she wishes he wouldn't have so many double standards.

"How are things with Mr. Ray of Sunshine?" He questions, and he very pointedly evades her eyes.

Her fingers pause over the keyboard. Staring him down to see any hint of what he is getting at, but she finds nothing. She exhales through her nose slowly, before her lip peels back in what might be an attempt at a snarl. "Things are fine, Tony. He is fine."

There is a snort from across the bullpen, and the sound is downright unpleasant. She feels the shift in the air, the tangible tang that spreads outward from his body. This isn't supposed to happen. He isn't supposed to act this way. "It's been quite a few months now. Valentine's Day is coming up, you know." He is hinting at something, something so sinister and dark that it makes her eyes sting briefly. She knows what it is; she just really hopes that she is wrong.

"I know this." Her lips are pursed tight, and her shoulders are stiff. If he wants to start a fight with her then she will gladly accept it. It has been awhile since they have tangoed this way, and she really should have known it was a matter of time before their forged friendship was shoved to the wayside.

"Good." His smile is twisted, and it looks more like a grimace than anything else. "Then you must know that it is only a matter of time before you break his heart." His eyes glint within the low light of the office.

Her fingers curl around the blunt edge of her pencil, and she clenches her teeth to keep from physically retaliating against his slap of words. "That is not true," she hisses, and her words are deadly against the still air. If he knows what is good for him he will shut up, but as she watches his fury rise like the red against his flesh she knows that that will not be the case.

"Oh but it is." He is still smiling that infuriating little smile that is all crooked edges and no teeth. She thinks it is about time for her to bite him back. Without her reaction he will keep scrapping at the wounds in her chest, and she will not allow him to do so mercilessly.

"You would know, yes?" Her words are nothing more than a soft simper and her lashes flutter in a way similar to that of her flirting. "You are after all, king of relationships, are you not?" She plucks her teeth against her lips, snagging a bit of flesh beneath the blunt edges. "How many hearts do you break a week, Tony? How many girls have you left crying because you could not commit?" Her eyes narrow dangerously, and she wants him to feel it. She wants to rip open his scars and pour salt beneath his wounds. "You will _never _commit to _anyone_."

Silence sits like ice above them, and she relishes in it. The chill of the room matches the chill of her heart. She watches as his expression shutters, leaving nothing more than pinched hurt that is palpable to anyone who dared to look.

She packs up her bag without looking towards him. She can't stand to look at him right now. To know that he can say such hateful things to her at the blink of a hat means things that fill her heart with sorrow.

"Have a _good_ night, Tony." When she walks away she doesn't look back. It feels liberating.

##

She is halfway through her third bottle of beer when pounding sounds at her door, and she knocks back the second half in one swift gulp. She wipes against her mouth with a languid swipe of the back of her hand, and she contemplates letting her door go unanswered. It is only when the pounding begins to shake the hinges that she knows she needs to do something before her neighbors file yet another disturbance claim against her.

She grabs her gun off the arm of the couch, checking for a full barrel as she crosses the threshold. The gun is cocked before her hand even touches the door, and she yanks it open without bothering to check the other side. When she sees him her fingers tighten against the handle, and she feels more destructive than she ever has in her life. "What?"

His eyes look a little bit sad, and a whole lot pleading. She hopes that he has a good explanation for his presence, because her fingers are itching and she wants to do some damage.

"I'm sorry?" It's a statement, but he sounds so hopeful that the infliction in his voice sounds positively unsure. It settles something inside of her and her fingers slide off the trigger as she stares him down. "I really am sorry," he insists.

She finds herself placing the gun on her end table, turning her back to him as she makes her way to her fridge. Two more beers are held in her grasp as she turns towards her living room, and she is not surprised to find that he is peeling his jacket from his shoulders and laying it against the back of her couch.

She doesn't say anything to him because she can't. His words have festered, spreading out and making her body feel numb and insensitive. He alone has the power to bring her back to a place she would rather not go, and she doesn't think that he even knows it.

"Ziva," he trails off hopelessly, and she shoves the bottle of beer into his palm before perching on the arm of the couch. She will not allow herself to sink into the cushions, because that would mean she was comfortable. Right now, in his presence, she is not. "I know who you are Ziva."

His words are supposed to make her feel better and a small amount of light flits from her heart but she will not allow it to reach her face. He hurt her badly, but she doesn't want him to know that. "I am not sure that you do." It's a low blow, and it pains her to see him suffer from her words but it is how she feels. The things he accused her of are who she used to be, she doesn't want to be that person. She is different, she thought he knew that.

He sends her a look, green eyes smoldering, and she knows that she will cave in. She is too weak when it comes to him, she always has been. She holds tight to the last ounce of anger that seeps through her veins, and she straightens her spine as she faces him head on. "You cannot keep doing this to me Tony." Her voice is firm, she is thankful for that. Her heart is fluttering against her chest so loudly that she is surprised that he can't hear it.

"I know." His words are like a promise, and she can feel the sincerity that is held within their depths. She doesn't trust them though. She may trust him, but sometimes she separates him and the words he says because they are two different entities. One caring and one so very cold.

"I am not sure that you do," she repeats, and she is beginning to feel like a broken record. She needs him to see it her way, to know that each time he switches from hot to cold that a small piece of her closes off. "I am not some emotionless killer." Her words are emphasized, and she thinks she is trying to convince herself more than she is him.

"No, you're not," he agrees. It unsettles her, how quick he is to say that. She didn't know what she expected, but she is so used to arguing with him that his agreement has thrown her for a loop. "I know you would never intentionally hurt someone you care about either." He is referring to Ray, and they both know it.

"I would never intentionally hurt _you_," she accedes. She hopes that he realizes what she is saying, but when his expression stays that neutral platonic look that she is so very familiar with she knows that one day she is going to actually have to open up. "So," she starts, because the air is stifling and she wants it gone. "Who am I?"

"You are Ziva David. An amazing, sharp-tongued, quick-witted, loyal, and courageous woman who never backs down from anything." His answer is quick, and she finds that she wasn't expecting any of those responses.

He is smiling at her now, and she can almost forget that shadow of a grin that had marred his face in the bullpen. But not quite. "And you are a smooch ass," she mocks, because feelings is not something she does well.

"It's kiss." He doesn't seem put off by her statement, and that makes her put off because she can't push him away if he doesn't allow it. "And I can't kiss your ass if you aren't even naked."

He is back to joking with her, and while it doesn't really resolve the tensions that lay against her heart she thinks she might be okay with this. This is who they are: they fight, they joke, and eventually they make up. She just hopes that one day they will get their chance to love. He showed her that she is capable of such a thing.

**##**

* * *

**I recently lost someone very close to me, so I don't know how much writing I will be able to do. I apologize for this in advance, but some things are uncontrollable. **

**Just don't take life for granted, okay? (like TIVA seems to enjoy doing, seriously. Those two need to get with it already… even in this story they're finicky.)**

**Peace and love to all.**


	9. Just please, would you let me in

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

This is a slight tag to the episode "Freedom" but it also fits in with some of the other one-shots. Also this was inspired by kind words from all of you. So there is a little bit of everything in here.

**Title: **Just please, would you let me in.

**Rating: K+  
**

**Pairing: Tony and Ziva (ish)  
**

**Warning: Tag to Season 8**

**Summary: She can't talk about it. Not with him. Not with anyone.  
**

**AN: I want to thank you all for your condolences. I'm really not sure what else to say other than a sincere thank you. **

**##**

"You know that I'm here for you, right?"

The words are unexpected in the quiet of the night, and she looks up to find Tony staring at her intently. It gives her chills, but she shakes her head because she just can't talk about this right now. She isn't sure that she will ever be able to talk about it. There is a cavern nestled deep inside of her heart that aches something fierce when any thought of her time spent in Somalia leaks passed her defenses, and she fears what would happen if she allowed everything to come pouring out.

"Cause I am." He wants her to know. He wants to help her. He wants her to want to be helped.

"I know that Tony," she concedes. Her words really aren't all that heartfelt and her shoulders slump minutely against the pressure caused by his pushing. She knows that he is there for her to a certain extent, but she is not naïve enough to think that he would stand by her after he knew everything. Her past is dark and unforgiving, and the shadows that lurk around corners would even scar her father. She can't do that to him. She sees the way her psychiatrist looks at her. She knows what it is about, and she will not force that on anyone else. Tony is a light of hope within her world, and even if he doesn't know that she won't allow him to become extinguished.

She turns her attention back to her paperwork, diligently filling out her report as she focuses on anything but him. Her work is slower than necessary, but she really doesn't want to go home only to be alone yet again. She is tired of always being alone. Her whole life has been filled with just her, and she knows that that is how it will continue to be.

"Why are you so scared?" he asks.

Her shoulders stiffen, and her eyes are trained on him because he spotted everything she wanted to hide. "I am not scared."

"But you are." The fact that his words are softly spoken does nothing to ease her racing mind. He is in her head, and she wants him out.

"I do not get scared," she hisses. She is lashing out, and the volume of her voice is rising but he needs to understand. Him calling her out on her fear is not going to make things better.

He nods once, and she isn't sure whether he is agreeing with her or mocking her. Probably a bit of both. "I do," he admits."

The air leaves her lips quicker than she realizes she even breathed it in. There is a shift in the atmosphere around them, and each movement she makes seems too much, too quick. She wants to argue with him, because even when they have faced what seemed to be certain death he was calm and collected. When he took seven hits to the face he didn't cry out or complain. Anthony DiNozzo had never shown her fear, and she wonders what makes this moment so different than the rest of them.

"When I thought you were dead, I was so scared." She is grateful that they are the only people there, because with how fast her heart is pounding she is sure that everyone would be able to hear it. "I was afraid that I would never get to see you again."

The fact that he isn't really looking at her makes the words easier for her to swallow. Her chest heaves like it did in Somalia when he told her he couldn't live without her, but this time she knows that he wants to tell her these things. She can't speak, because she can't even think. Her mind is jumbled and she is really just trying to understand what he has just told her. She can't make sense of it, because in all the years she has known him she has never seen him act this way.

"I was scared that you hated me." Her words flow out of her after a long beat of silence, and she is surprised at how liberated she feels.

He is nodding again, and she doesn't even realize he is looking at her until he is crouched down in front of her. His hand is resting against her knee, and the heat from his palm burns her through her slacks. "I could never hate you."

She knows that he can't really know that, but it must have been what she needed to hear because the ball in her throat is suddenly absent. She might be able to tell him of the horrors she faced on the sands of Somalia, but right now they sit like fresh scratches against her mind.

"And I will never hate you." It's a promise, and it is one that she intends to keep.

**##**

**So, I am feeling somewhat emotional at the moment which is why this probably seems a whole lot a sappy. I apologize. **

**This is written as a way of saying don't let things go unsaid. It really is the worst mistake anyone could make. **

**Now I need to watch "A Man Walks Into A Bar…" and write a tag to that. And then I need to watch "Defiance". *sweatdrop* I'm falling behind. **

**Thank you again to all of my readers.**


	10. She wants what she can't have

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

Are you getting tired of me yet?

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**Title: **She wants what she can't have.

**Rating: **K+

**Pairings: **Tony and Ziva

**Warning: **Tag to "A Man Walks Into a Bar…"**  
Summary:** These people she often calls her family are not really hers. They are Kate's, and she feels that they always will be.

**AN:/ **I have been so busy, and so drained lately that it took me forever to get this out. They're turning angsty because I am feeling angsty … well and the show is being kinda angsty so I guess it all evens out. Plus, I am drowning my soul in some good ol' ACDC and Rage Against

**Disclaimer: **"Want to know the best thing about spending two days in jail?" [Pause] "Two days of Ellen on the TiVo!"

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**##**

Sometimes she wonders if she is just a replacement, because it certainly feels like she is. Kate left a void bigger than anything she could hope to fill and that scares her.

There are moments when she feels like she might actually belong here. Gibbs calls her "_Ziver_" and she feels like she finally has a father. McGee helps her out of a bind and Abby gives her a bone crushing hug, and she feels like just maybe she can be loved. Ducky tells her a story of his past and Palmer is in awe of her and she feels like she is cherished. Tony smiles at her and she feels like she is finally coming home. All of these things make her heart pound, and her mind to soar with the possibilities of the things that might just be in her grasp, finally. Then she comes crashing back down to earth, because she thinks that Kate probably felt all of these things as well.

These feelings that cause her heart to thud are not really her feelings to take. These people that she has come to see as a second family are not really hers to hold. She stepped into a close knit circle, and she was foolish to think that she could easily penetrate it. Some six years later and she still feels like she is standing on the outside looking in. She doesn't think that that is going to change for her anytime soon. This makes her selfish in a way she never thought she would be.

"_Something permanent. Something that cannot be taken away. Is that too much to ask?" _

The words that had been peeled from the back of her throat haunt her now, and she realizes that she doesn't have any of those things. There is always a possibility of the team being disbanded. Her heart clutches at the thought because it has already happened hasn't it? They have been broken apart on more than one occasion, and she fears that the next time they will not be able to return to what they were before.

She is dedicated to these people. She would put her life in their hands without a second thought, but watching them interact with someone who was so close to Kate shows her that she doesn't hold a candle. Abby doesn't see her as a gal pal, and McGee hardly looks at her more than a close confidante. She doesn't know where she stands with Tony on a good day, and that makes her body ache with a new sort of tension. She is just glad that she shares a bond with Gibbs, Ducky, and Palmer; because without that she thinks she might have given up a long time ago. Still, these people she often calls her family are not really hers at all. They are Kate's, and she feels that they always will be.

Ray has given her glimpses what she truly needed, that small bit of hope that she can hold something that isn't tainted by a shadow of someone who is better. Ray doesn't know of her life, and she plans to keep it that way. Ray sees her as a woman, and while sometimes it irks her that he thinks she needs to be sheltered, it also allows her to feel what she is sure so many other woman before her have felt. It isn't love, but it is closer than she has been in a long time. She is willing to hold onto it for all that it was worth.

"You've been acting strange ever since that mandatory psyche evaluation," Tony says. She feels her bubble burst before she can properly build it around herself, and she hates that he has the power to do this to her.

"It is nothing." To her it is nothing, just petty feelings of unresolved tensions that lay in her heart. She doesn't need to tell him about it, because he hasn't seen fit to inform her that Rachel Cransten is the sister to the one and only Caitlin Todd. She knows this already, but he doesn't think that she does; that makes it that much harder to swallow.

"We've been over this before," he sighs. She feels the air around them spark with his frustration, and she finds herself wondering if he had this short of a fuse with Kate. She doubts it. "You don't need to keep hiding from me."

"And I have told you before that I do not need to hide from anyone." She is tired of this on and off game they have going. She wants him to let go, or to hold on. She can't keep doing both, not anymore. Not after she has finally allowed herself to realize what it is she has been waiting for.

His irritation is as palpable as the tension in the air, and she feels like she has to tiptoe around every one of them now. Their wounds have been split open once again, and she has never been good at tending to heartbreaks. After all, her own heart still lays in tattered remnants of something indistinguishable upon the floor. "Ziva..." he pleads.

She shakes her head slowly, because he can't talk to her like that. He can't look at her with those soft green eyes and expect her to bend to his will just because so many other women are weak when it comes to his advances. She will not be another statistic. She is her own person.

"Ziver." Gibbs cuts in, and she looks at him with narrowed eyes because he doesn't jump into their arguments often. "Sometimes it is good to talk about it." His voice is soft, and she feels her resolve weaken because she knows that they care. She just doesn't want them to feel obligated over her, because she is only second fiddle.

"And sometimes talking only makes things worse." She is certain that her talking about things can only have negative effects, because her mind is warped.

The silence that follows stings her more than their inquisitive words, and she wishes to take her previous statement back. They look at her with their worried eyes, and she feels like her shell has cracked open to show her vulnerability. She is weak, and she thinks that they are just beginning to see that.

"Ziva." Someone states, and she doesn't really care who it is because her ears are ringing and she just wants everyone to leave her alone. She can't fix herself if they keep chipping away at the shattered pieces of her once impenetrable shell.

"There is nothing that I need to talk to any of you about." She forces a bite to layer her words, because the brutality that glosses over them usually makes them leave her alone.

She stands up abruptly, weaving around her desk as her feet thud against the ground. She needs to get away from them, because her mind is whirling with thoughts that she can't handle.

As soon as she steps through the door her shoulders slump, and she hates that it takes her much more effort to hold up her confident façade. She doesn't know what she is turning into, but she knows that with the way things are going she won't be able to keep on pretending. She once told Tony that she was tired of pretending, she just never realized that those words would continue haunt her to this very day.

She laughs humorlessly, watching her reflection with a bit of morbid fascination as she comes to rest against the sink. She finds it funny that every time she has one of these mini-episodes Tony enters her mind.

She turns the water on sharply, watching as icy beads of water pour out of the faucet before she sticks her hand beneath the stream. The water trickles through her fingers, but she does her best to make a cup out of her hands so she can pour the cool liquid over her heated face. The water bites at her skin, but she welcomes the chill that washes over her body because it allows her mind to shut off if only for a moment.

When she looks at her waterlogged expression she feels remorse. Remorse for being too late, and regret for not being smarter; she should have seen the signs. "I am sorry, Kate." Her words are a whisper that gets drowned out by the sink, but that doesn't stop her from jumping at the sound of the bathroom door swinging closed. She should have known someone would follow her in here; she made a big enough scene. She sometimes forgot that these people care for her far more than anyone at Mossad ever had.

"What do you mean by that?" Tony questions, and he sounds downright angry. Ziva can't say that she blames him, if she had been in his position she would be angry as well. She is only surprised that she hasn't been subjected to more of his anger before this point. She deserves it.

"It is nothing." She waves him off, because he wouldn't understand. She hardly understands it herself.

"You're apologizing to Kate. That's obviously something." He sounds so blasé about the entire situation, and she wants to shake him. She is here, Kate is not. It's not that she wants them to forget their fallen comrade; she just wants them to see her.

"It was my brother who killed her Tony." She is going for the obvious, and when he doesn't flinch the way she had hopes she knows that he doesn't buy her words for one second.

"Yeah, and you killed your brother." She is the one who flinches at his words. It's not that she hasn't come to terms with what she has done, because she has. It is just that when it is said so matter-of-factly it makes her feel just as heartless as she often thinks she is. "So what is it that you were really apologizing for?"

She looks up at him. Calculating the amount of strength it would take for her to push passed him in order to get to the door. She sighs in defeat, because she doesn't want to hurt him unnecessarily. As often as she threatens him she doesn't think she can inflict bodily harm on him without just cause. Even still, she can't tell him. "It does not matter Tony."

"It does." His body shifts forward, but he does not take a step to move from his spot leaning against the wall. She thinks he knows that she will bolt once she is given ample opportunity. "If it means that you would break Gibbs rules, than clearly it means something."

She looks at him curiously, because as far as she knows she didn't break a rule. He knows as much as she does that Gibbs rules influence their decisions more than anything else.

"Never apologize." He won't stop looking at her, and she wishes he would.

"I believe we have all broken that one a time or two." She tries to go for nonchalant, but she thinks she fails, because he does not back down.

"Not you." He knows her too well; the thought causes her belly to unfurl. "You don't break Gibbs' rules unless it is absolutely necessary." His voice is dark, and she wonders what he is hinting at. She tries not to think about it. "We're not leaving here until you tell me. I'll call in reinforcements if I have to."

She doesn't really know why he is pushing this. It really isn't that big of a deal. She is wallowing, and he is making her feel guilty about it. He is the only one who has that power. She wants to call his bluff, but she knows that he is being serious. If she wants to save face she has to get this over with, and she plans on making it as relatively painless as possible. "I was apologizing for trying to take her place." She doesn't drop her gaze, and she makes sure to continue looking at him so he can't see her weakness anymore than he already has.

"You can't take Kate's place, Ziva." He doesn't even hesitate; she thinks that hurts more than anything.

"That is why I said _'trying_'," she says bitterly. She's getting huffy, because he still hasn't moved.

"Let me finish, please." He sounds exasperated; she doesn't think he has the right. "You can't take Kate's place." She realizes the second time hurts more than the first, and she really wishes he would let her be. "Because you have a whole place of your own." She almost misses his words, because she is so focused on the brutal beat of her heart that she took to ignoring him. She is glad that she heard him though, because it eases her mind just a little bit.

"Only because of my persistence." She doesn't know why she is trying to make light of things, but she thinks it might be because she doesn't really believe it herself.

"Well there's that." He agrees easily, and she crosses her arms as her eyebrow ticks skyward slowly. "Then there is also the fact that you're also a pretty likeable person, Ziva."

Coming from him those words mean more than he would ever know, because it is with these words that she thinks that maybe these people are her family too. And maybe she doesn't really need someone she can call her own, because these people have enough heart to beat out anyone in the world.

##

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**I apologize in advance for this. But reviews would still be nice.**

**Now, since there is going to be a major TIVA depravation going on for the next who knows how long would you guys like me to analyze the episodes to death in order to find that small ounce of hope and write on it? Because I will. I still got two episode tags to write, so just let me know if you want me to keep this slow (very slow) progression forward, or turn it to a straight edged TIVA angle if possible. **

**P.S Reviews are gold. **


	11. Waiting for forever

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

Can we get a big **WooHoo! **for reaching 100 reviews on this story? I never thought that that would happen for this little ditty of random tags. I am very glad that it did though, and I am not sure that this would be what it is today without the support from every single one of my readers. So, thank you. This is for you. :]

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**Title:** Waiting for forever.

**Rating: **K

**Pairing: **Tony/Ziva

**Warning: **Tags to Defiant. If you haven't yet seen it I suggest holding off a bit.

**Summary: ** It scares her, the thought that things might change in a heartbeat. She really hates change, that is why she does everything in her power to keep things the same.

**AN: **This is very slow moving, but I feel that it needs to be to capture the true TIVA essence that is happening right now. I hope you all agree.

**Disclaimer: **Disclaim this!

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##

She is nervous, and she really isn't sure why. Her stomach is wrought with tightening coils of apprehension, and her throat quivers because of this untold tension. She knows this feeling; she has felt it many times before. Each time disastrous results followed, and she hopes that this time is different.

It was because of this that she felt that unnatural fear swim within her gut. It never failed that just when she finally got herself completely that something would come to take that away from her. It always seemed to happen to her when she caught a glimpse of happiness.

Change is something that she does not wish to endure, at least not anytime soon. She has been through her fair share already, and in such a short amount of time. She just wants stability for a while. She knows that that is more than she should ask for.

It is just that never before has she held the sort of stable lifestyle like the one she is currently living in. She doesn't want to have to give it up. She is not sure that she will ever be ready to if she is honest with herself. She has been given a glimpse of that proverbial paradise, and she is grateful for it. She may not always show it, but she truly is.

"How long do you think that this will last?" she asks. She can't bring herself to look at him, because there is always a chance that he is not feeling the same way that she is. For her that is a risk that is far too big for her to take.

There is silence that seems to resonate around the room and it nearly suffocates her. He only holds his tongue if he knows she isn't going to like what he is going to say. She can appreciate that to some extent, but it mainly just makes her to get frustrated.

"Tony!" Her voice is sharp, holding a blunt edge of desperation because she has had this conversation once already. She didn't get the answer she wanted then, she can only hope that things are different now.

"I can't really say." His voice is soft, and it causes her to turn in order to completely look at him because she has to see what he looks like. His head is bowed and she can't really see his eyes. She wants to see his eyes. She knows she will see something telling there. She wants the truth, no matter what form it comes in.

"How much longer will you be here?" The words bite at the air, making the duo uncomfortable as it hovers over their heads. She wouldn't take them back though, because it's something that has been gnawing at her since that day he declined that team in Rota, Spain all those years ago.

He looks up at her, his eyes vulnerable and confused. That is where she sees her answer, and she sees that things might be changing before she wants them too. "I don't know."

She nods jerkily, her throat tightening in an annoying sort of way that causes her breath to hitch. She looks down at her hands, flicking her finger across her nail as she wipes at the smooth gloss that lays there. "So you are just waiting for something better to come along then, yes?" She is no longer talking about jobs, and she is no longer talking about him leaving for some place new. She knows this, and she kind of hopes that he does too.

The question was somewhat rhetorical, but she still wants an answer. When he doesn't give one right away she gets even more nervous than she was before, and her stomach curls into an uncomfortable tightness that has her subtly leaning over in order to relieve it.

"Just say it," she demands. Her words are back to that hard tone that feels like she is spitting needles, but it's how she has protected herself for years. She doesn't plan on giving that up now.

The sigh he heaves sounds ten times louder than it truly is. It flips across the air between them, and lands on her desk like the weight that sits in the room. She cannot truly decipher the emotion he is currently feeling, that alone tells her something she doesn't want to accept.

"No," he says. His words are simple, and when she looks up at him he is staring at her so intently that she feels like he is actually touching her soul. It is something that she has never felt with anyone other than him. "I'm not waiting for something better." He is repeating her words because it draws out the time. She wonders what he is going to throw at her next. "I am simply waiting."

A beat passes. Then two. It drags on for so long, that minutes go by and her '_for what_' clings helplessly to her tongue. She can't ask that question for reasons that she feels are far too obvious. His words could be crushing, and she strongly feels that they would cause change. She is beginning to hate that word.

"Me too," she says instead. She feels like she is settling. It is a feeling she has tasted often in her life, and she knows that it is warranted. She lives a dangerous life, yet when it comes to matters of her heart she is not known for taking risks.

He nods once like he understands her, and she really wishes that he did. She wishes that he knew how she felt about him, and why she acted why she acted.

"I guess we'll just have to wait together then." His words warm her heart, and she nods at him with her acceptance.

They will wait together, until she can bring herself to tell him the truth that sits untouched in her heart. The longer they can remain together she feels hopeful.

##

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**So, I basically wanted that conversation between Ziva and McGee to take place between Tony and Ziva as well. This is my take on how that would happen. **

**I had hoped to finish this last week, and then get up Kill Screen's tag before this week's episode aired. I got sick Friday of last week and it messed up my entire schedule. I am still pretty sick, but I hope to get things all caught up by next week. Even with the thought of finals looming on the horizon. **

**Reviews would be lovely.**


	12. Why can't we be friends?

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

This chapter was hard to write for multiple different reasons. Still I hope that you enjoy it.

**Title: **Why can't we be friends?

**Rating: **K+

**Pairing: **Tony/Ziva

**Warning: 8x16**

**Summary: **She's tired, and she is tired of having to feel tired. She really just wishes they could be friends.

**AN:/ **This was actually inspired by a conversation I had with M E Wofford some time ago. Thank you for that, my friend. I apologize for the extended absence. I just haven't been able to concentrate for a plethora of reasons.

**##**

She doesn't know why they continue to pretend that they are not truly friends. She is certain that it is obvious to everyone around them.

It is a habit they started long ago, and it fell away when they honestly did stop being friends for that short period of time. She supposes that that is part of the reason it sticks so firmly now. It is a tried and true method that chips away at her heart with each mock-glare that settles itself across his features. She is not sure how much more of this she can take. They rely on each other far more than this faulty façade will allow.

The fact that he sequesters their friendship away into anything that houses four walls and no other people shames her. Because maybe she is simply not good enough for that cherished title of 'friend'.

**##**

They show up to work together for the first time in many months. It feels strange to her, and her heart pounds out an unsteady rhythm that screams of girlish giddiness that she has tried her whole life to suppress. She doesn't think of it as a failure, because every superhero has a weakness; Tony happens to be hers.

She settles for thin conversations filled with tart words, because this is what he allows. In public they can be little more than acquaintances. She just wishes they were more. She longs for friendship, for _companionship_ of any kind. She really should just get a cat.

"Something wrong?" His words are warm against her ear, and it has taken her years to stifle the goose bumps that rise in the wake of his deep, warm voice. That _is_ something she has succeeded in.

"I am fine." She turns her face away from him because somebody could be watching. He wouldn't want that. It's a mechanism she has developed early in her life, and she feels that it has saved her countless times.

"Hey," he whispers. She hates that she feels herself melting over every simple call he bestows in her direction. "It's okay to talk to me sometimes." He smiles that little smile at her, and she knows that he is going for joking. That doesn't stop her from seeing the truth that lies just behind his eyes.

When she turns to look at him he is giving her an even softer smile. One that usually causes her undoing. He must have forgotten that they are not all alone here, because he usually reserves this type of thing for behind closed doors.

The thought makes her brittle, and the smile that she shoves across her face is like a dual edged sword. "That is not really our thing is it, Tony?" She is unsettled by the fact that she lumped them in together. She doesn't know how he will react. This nervous feeling that spreads outward like a wildfire is something she abhors. They aren't supposed to be like this; she wishes they could maintain their friendship during all hours of the day. She knows a fleeting hope when she sees one. "Unless our words are pointy."

"Sharp," he says. He sounds distracted. "Come on. That's not always the case."

She wants to ask who he is trying to kid. He seems insistent on telling her that they are _always_ friends, but she has been lied to enough to know the faultiness in that statement. "No, _you_ come on," she hisses. "When was the last time we _really_ talked, Tony?"

He crosses his arms, and his eyes darken. The defenses he usually uses with her are rising, and fast. She can feel her own walls coming up as well. "We talked yesterday," he scoffs.

"A few words over lunch do not count." She is tired of this, and she is tired of being tired. It is something that he knows as well.

"What's gotten into you," he asks. He sounds so sincere, and yet she can do nothing to force down her rapidly rising defenses. He puts her on edge with the simplest of statements. She is just surprised that he has not yet figured that out.

"Nothing." Her words are little more than a tight rasp. They have had so many conversations like this already, and she feels as though she can easily play both parts without his input. "You have somewhere that you need to be, yes?"

Hurt briefly dances across his features, but she ignores it. After all, in her opinion he has brought this upon himself. It wasn't her idea to keep things a secret. "Something is obviously wrong," he pushes.

"Once again your investigative skills have put you to shame." She is trying to hurt him, but she has no idea what kind of reaction she is hoping for. It better be big.

"The phrase is 'put _me_ to shame'," he growls. He is rapidly becoming angry. She can't help but to be a bit smug over it.

"I know what I said." She gives him her better-than-you grin just before she starts to pack up her things for the night. It's late and she just wants to go home. Their case isn't over yet.

As she shoulders he bag he retaliates. A part of her wishes he would for once just keep his mouth shut. "Ziva," he murmurs.

His soft voice causes her to turn and look at him, stopping her hasty retreat. He looks defeated, and suddenly she doesn't feel as pleased. "Why can we not just be friends, Tony?" she questions.

He sighs. It is long and drawn out and even she can feel the repercussions of it when he finally inhales. "We are friends," he stresses.

She gives a brief hum, and spares a half a seconds glance back at him before she once again starts on her way. "When?"

The single word is all that she can muster, but she thinks that it is stronger than any long winded speech could ever hope to be.

##

When she left the night before, she had no idea that this would be in today's agenda. Life here is unexpected; she would do well to remember that.

The steady tap of his fingers against the hard surface of that moveable wall is grating on her last nerve. It has been for the past hour. "Would you knock it off?" Her shoulders are slumped as she leans against the wall opposite him. The headache that is forming at the base of her temples is causing her vision to swim. She needs a drink of water. "Please." It is not so much a request as it is a demand. He can probably tell the difference.

She sighs in relief when the noise stops. She thought that she would be forced into an argument, she is glad that that is not the case. When the tapping starts back up a few seconds later, she literally growls. She should have known that he wouldn't just give up. He tosses her a lopsided smile over his shoulder, and her fingers curl in response.

"Tony!" She is still mad at him. Therefore she is not entirely opposed to inflicting damage upon his person. It might release some of the tension in her spine.

"What," he whines. It sounds far too childish to have come from a man of his age, and she tells him as much. "I am not old!"

She rolls her head to the side. Eyeing him awkwardly out of the corner of her eyes before turning her attention elsewhere. "If you say so."

Her blithe response does exactly what she had hoped. The tapping stops as he whirls on her, pressing his shoulders firmly against the wall behind him as if his weight alone can make it budge. "I'm not," he argues. His eyes are heated, and it is clear that he is waiting for her denial. She is not in the mood to give it.

"Okay," she agrees. Her whole presence screams animosity, and she thinks that is why she is so on edge. Their argument from the prior night is still fresh in her mind, and every time she looks at him she just see's yet another man who is not willing to accept her for who she is. She has had enough of that in her lifetime.

She hears him suck in a deep breath, and she knows that he is ready to launch into a full blown argument. She doesn't want to go there, not when she doesn't know how long they are going to be stuck here. Together. She turns her head away from him, allowing her eyes to fall shut as she sucks in a heavy breath.

She hears him slide into a seated position next to her, but she makes no move to acknowledge him. "Ziva?"

When he nudges her she jolts, but not out of shock. The contact is unexpected. It has been so long since he last initiated a touch between them, but she doesn't allow herself to relish in it for too long. She scoots away, resting her head against the wall as she stares straight ahead. Her lips are pursed shut, and she opens her eyes to gaze at him curiously. "What?"

He gives a quick shake of his head. A few seconds pass before it seems that he has made up his mind to say something, because his eyes shine with determination. "Why don't you think we're friends?"

"There is no simple way to answer that." She shrugs her shoulders, but she still does not think they need to have this conversation.

"Ziva, we _are_ friends." His words are forceful, but she doesn't look at him because it scares her. He scares her. "Will you look at me?" He says after a beat, and he sounds irritated. It's probably the same thing that she is feeling.

When he grabs her chin and turns her face towards his own her heart stutters. She knows of the effect he has on her, has known for years. It still makes her feel weak in a way she would rather forget.

"We're friends," he repeats.

She wants to believe him, but she has hoped for too long only for it to fall flat time and time again. "Sometimes," she accedes.

"All the time," he promises. His fingers stroke a soft line against the underside of her chin, and she turns her face into his palm as he does so.

"It does not always seem that way, Tony." Her voice is subdued, but she is not trying to argue with him. "I know things are not easy, but …" she trails off. She has never been good with words, and now is no exception.

"I know," he sighs. He still hasn't released her face from his grasp, she doesn't feel the need to ask him too either. "We will just have to try harder then, won't we?"

When he looks at her like this she can't help but to agree with him. "Yes, we will."

**##**

1,843. unbetaed.

**A little slice of happiness. I hope to be all caught up on these by the next new episode.**

**Reviews would be lovely.**


	13. Flirting along the lines

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

There are so many possible directions that I could have taken this one particular one-shot that I found it impossible to sit down and sort it all out. My thoughts have been scatterbrained on this, so there might possibly be a couple more of them coming. This particular piece came because well … let's face it … I can't stand E.J, and I need TIVA. So… yeah.

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**Title: **Flirting along the lines.

**Rating: **T – _slight_ innuendo

**Pairings: **Tony and Ziva

**Warnings: Tags to 'One Last Score'**

**Summary: **He will always remember saying that brunettes are his type, because there is one certain brunette that is always on his mind.

**Author's Note: I am very nearly all caught up! And … this came out a lot different than I thought it would.

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**

**##**

It is a strange conversation all around, and yet it keeps coming up again and again. He is not one to pass up an opportunity, especially when it feeds into his curiosities so nicely. So he jumps right onto that question band wagon, and goes straight for his intended prey without a second thought. "What about you, David? When do you feel like showering?" he asks.

The look she tosses him promises him something. He thinks that it is most likely pain, but he shrugs it off with an easy smile, and eyes her inquisitively. He really wants to know, his reasons should be obvious. Ziva plus a shower equals one wet, hot Ziva_ in_ a shower, and that is one math equation that he can solve any day.

"After just about any conversation with you Tony," Ziva replies. It's a well placed snub, and he nods his head glibly because he may have walked right into that one. He tosses a half-hearted glare at everyone as they snicker at her answer. This conversation isn't over. Far from it.

##

It isn't long before they are alone. Completely and utterly alone. Together. Surrounded by nothing but the solitude of their individual thoughts. It's the way that he likes it. It is just a shame that it hardly ever occurs anymore.

"So, uh," he starts. Already his tone seeps with smugness that he can't contain, and the grin that flicks across his face must be very telling because she is eyeing him warily. "I make you feel dirty, eh?" His voice has lowered fractionally so that the suggestion he is making is completely obvious without the unnecessary use of waggled eyebrows. She stands glaring at him, and he lets out a dry sort of laugh because this whole situation is vaguely amusing to him. "Hey, there is no need to get defensive. You aren't the first person, and you definitely won't be the last."

She shudders, gulping down thickly as she grimaces. "I may have just thrown up in my mouth a bit," she says. Her words are laced with sarcasm, and a touch of amusement. "I do not care to know about your _multiple_ partners, Tony."

He is smiling at her. Facing her down as he stares at her openly. "Lying is very unbecoming, Ziva."

She shakes her head slowly. Her dark eyes are narrowed into slits while his own green eyes are open wide. "The dirty you make me feel is not very becoming either," she hisses.

"Ah," he grins. "That must be dirty with two R's. There really shouldn't be any other kind."

"Two R's?" She is confused, and he likes that he has to educate her on certain things. It makes him feel needed. "Dirrty?" She tests it out on her tongue. Even though in the pop culture reference of 'Dirrty' the second R is silent he can't help but to appreciate the way it smoothly rolls off of her tongue. She was right, as usual. She is _very_ good at rolling her R's.

"Something like that," he accedes. He doesn't want to go into a long winded explanation of its pronunciation, so he cuts it short.

"That does not make any sense, Tony." Her arms are crossed due to her impatience, and he shrugs helplessly in response.

"Christina Aguilera?" he offers. No recognition lights her eyes, and he knows that any explanation he could offer her would wind up useless. "Nevermind."

The silence that falls around them is something that he has grown used to. Along with the uncomfortable edge that comes with it. He wishes he didn't know this feeling. It is one of the things that puts their relationship constantly on edge. "So, what do you think about E.J?" As soon as the words are out of his mouth he regrets them. He saw how she reacted to the aforementioned agent, and now it is just going to seem like he is trying to get under her skin.

"I am sure that my thoughts on Agent Barrett are fairly obvious." She doesn't look at him, and she doesn't need to. He can practically feel her negative feelings vibrating off of her in waves. It's almost cute, the way that she thinks she can hide these things from him.

"She's alright," he offers helplessly. His words are meant for that nonchalant casual that he clearly fails at, because her head snaps towards him so fast that he is surprised she doesn't have whiplash.

She snorts indelicately, eyeing him up and down like she can read his every thought in such a quick perusal. "Everyone knows that you think of her as more than just _alright_."

Her eyes house a fire that will not easily be doused, but he puts up his hands in a placating gesture nonetheless. "I didn't mean –" he starts.

She cuts him off before his thought can properly form in his brain, and his jaw clenches as she continues to look down on him. "You did not mean for it to sound so casual? You did not mean to say it? Come on, Tony. I know you," she spits.

"I didn't mean for it to come out that way," he fires back. He is no longer in a bright sort of mood; her accusations have hit him a little too close to everything he was trying not to be. He hated that she still saw him as such. "In any case, blondes aren't really my type."

He expects her to fight him on it, to say something along the lines of '_women are your type, Tony_,' but she does nothing except stare at him sadly. It is not a pitying glance, but it is one filled with a sort of longing that he can't really describe.

She nods once, straightening her spine and turning away from him before he can do anything to stop her. There is something else in her eyes that he cannot really place, but he wishes he could. When the doors open he feels lost. Obviously he missed something; he just doesn't really know what that something might be.

"It should not matter to me." Her words sound like a curse, and they come out so softly that he knows he wasn't meant to hear them. They cut him all the same. He stares after her feeling as though he might have just missed out on an important moment.

##

He often acts on impulse. He knows that it is one of the things that Gibbs admired most about him when they first met. Over the years he has not really learned how to control it as much as he would have liked, which is why he ends up down in the NCIS showers without sparing it the smallest of thoughts.

He sees E.J's silhouette first, and it doesn't really do much for him. He is a man, and he gets the same reaction that any red blooded male would have at seeing that outline of a naked female. His throat becomes dry while his skin itches; it's the absence of a pounding heart that alerts him of the difference in this moment.

When his lips finally press against hers, everything around him feels slack. He is going through the motions that he knows so well, but it holds little meaning beyond that.

There is one thought that is pushing him forward, and it makes his eyes burn behind closed lids: _this wouldn't matter to her_. It repeats through his mind, burning through the chaos of thoughts that run rampant through his mind. Every part of him wishes that it did matter, because above all else he wants Ziva to care.

**##

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**

**Review :]**

**I tried to make up an explanation for why Tony would go to E.J … this is what I came up with. **

**Do you guys like it when I respond to your reviews? I mean I like to do it, sometimes it just takes me a lot longer than I would like so I am wondering if you want me to continue to do as much. :]  
**


	14. The things we wish we didn't know

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

Forward moving progress, yes? We all want that? Let's get to it soon, kay?

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**Title: **The things we wish we didn't know.

**Rating: **T

**Pairings: **Tony/Ziva

**Warning: **Season 8 - Spoiler

**Summary: **As much as she wishes she didn't know, she does. And there is nothing that she can do about it.

**AN: These pieces make me think. That's a good thing, right?**

**DISCLAIMER:**_ We do not disclaim the things that we claim. We disclaim the things that claim us.

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_

**##**

She knows.

It is obvious to her for so many different reasons. The look in his eye combined with his careful aloofness tells of the one thing that she has trouble swallowing. She is a hypocrite, and she continuously beats herself up over it.

Her uncanny ability to read him at any given moments brings her more pain than she would like to admit. If she didn't know him so well she is certain that her heart wouldn't catch painfully whenever he evades her eyes. She is just glad she is good at hiding her feelings, because the thought of him knowing half of the things she is feeling causes her stomach to churn.

She really tries to hide it, and she is positive that she fails. Some things she can't hide from him. For as well as she knows him he knows her just as well. It scares her, but she can do nothing to change it.

"You're avoiding me again," he says. He still isn't truly looking at her though.

His words do not make her jump, because she sensed him long before he actually stepped up next to her. Yet she still feels caught off guard and her heart pounds steadily against her ribcage as she struggles to keep her breathing normal. "What is there to avoid?" Her attempt at levity falls flat, but she keeps her brittle smile upon her face nonetheless. "I have just been busy. Paperwork is a bitch, yes?" She uses the same phrase that he has used many times before because she needs him to agree with her. If they don't argue he will go away. It's a philosophy she hopes is true.

He nods his agreement, but his eyes are suddenly caught with hers, and they do not waver the way she had hoped. His gaze is steadfast and she feels an uncomfortable itch form just below the surface because he won't look away.

"What?" she asks. She turns to face him slightly. Having her back to him, while she looks over her shoulder, makes her feel more vulnerable than she will allow herself.

The shake of his head is firm and resolute, and she knows that he is simply bidding his time before he says something life changing. She just doesn't know if she has the stomach for it. "What's got you so distracted?" he questions. She gulps thickly because she knows he won't drop it. When she attempts to push yet another excuse on paperwork he glares at her, and she feels her own temper begin to rise to contend with his own. "If you say paperwork I'll make Gibbs slap you."

"You cannot make Gibbs do anything." She calls his bluff; she is one of the only people who will. She wonders if he realizes this.

"You are lying," he says. He sounds too smug for his own damn good, and she wants to smack that look right off of his face. "And nobody likes a liar."

There is something that blossoms in her chest at his words. It starts small, and the heat of it seems to start a fire within her heart and soon it is burning bright. She feels shame and anger. These feelings tend to fuel her actions as well as her words. Now is no exception. "You must not be well liked then, yes?" Her words taste like liquid fire, but they leave a satisfying feeling running through her mind despite the guilt she feels afterwards.

He does not react the way she hopes. Instead of retaliating with an insult of his own he stands back and stares at her as if he expected better. She doesn't like the way it causes her emotions to flip, nor does she like the fact that he is allowed to pity her. She doesn't need his pity. "You know," he states. His tone is not accusing, just a mere statement of fact. It causes her to deflate faster than anything else would have. Not enough to make her admit to it though.

"What is it that I know Tony?" She's playing her cards the only way she knows how. Her father used to tell her _"deny, deny, deny. It is the only way for you to keep up your lies". _It's one of the only worthwhile things that he gave her.

The way Tony looks at her nearly causes her undoing, but she stays strong by biting the inside of her lip so he can't see her struggle. He shakes his head at her attempt of denial, but he doesn't push her. "You don't need to avoid me," he says. "We are friends." Nothing has ever felt like more of a punch in the stomach than those words right there. Suddenly all she wants to do is fight with him.

She turns back to her desk, folding her arms in front of her as she stares at the speck of dust that lines her computer screen. She makes a mental note to clean it later, when she doesn't feel as though she might be suffocating. "Yeah, friends." She knows she sounds distracted, but she doesn't really think that she can be blamed for it. She tries to recall a time when he has called them friends; she can't seem to think of one.

"Ziva?" He is leaning over her, but she ignores him. She is too lost in her thoughts to do anything but sit back and wonder. "Ziva?" he calls.

She is shaken out of it by his hand on her shoulder. His touch feels warm through the sleeve of her jacket, and she relishes in it for a brief moment before she shakes of his grip. She can't handle him touching her. Not when she knows he has been touching somebody else. She gives him a half a smile. One that she hopes does not look nearly as fake as it feels. "You are right, Tony. We are friends." _Only friends_. Even though she doesn't really voice her thoughts she feels like she doesn't need to. It's obvious even to her, and she knows that that says something in itself.

She knows everything, and she really really wishes that she didn't.

**##

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**1,038; unbetaed.**

~** Thanks for sticking with me everyone. I will definitely be replying to all of your reviews because I like to be in contact with everyone. I was just making sure that you didn't mind a bit of waiting in between my replies. **


	15. Of Marriage and open feelings

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

I feel like we are getting closer to that "one day". Sweet surrender is nearing.

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**Title: **Of marriage, and open hearts.

**Rating: **K

**Pairing:** Tony and Ziva

**Warning: **Tag to 8x19

**Summary: **Marriage is on her mind now for reasons she can't explain.

**AN:/ This took me far too long, and ended up going in a direction I was planning. I will be caught up by the new episode, it's a goal. **

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**##**

Jealousy is not really an emotion that she has much background in. At least, not until Tony arrived in her life. She isn't entirely sure how to go about sorting through her thoughts on that one, so she avoids it all together. There was a time in her life where she thought that she would never get married, but as they say "times change". She is only now beginning to understand what exactly they mean by that.

Since she was a young girl marriage has never really been an option for her. Every time she used to think about it she would freeze up; after all who could love what she had become? Then she arrived in America, and everything was so different from what she was used to. Especially the men. _Especially_ Tony. The thought of marriage was able to push its way past her filter, weakening her. Molding her into something she never thought she would be. She's not too upset over it.

Now marriage is on her mind, and it pops up at the most inopportune of moments. It scares her how easily the topic can spill past her lips. She has never let anyone get that close to her before, she's not sure that she is ready to start now either.

##

"So, you're going to get married, huh?" Tony asks. Her steps don't falter as she walks up the stairs, but she throws him a passing glance over her shoulder to let him know that he isn't as amusing as he thinks he is.

"Not anytime soon," she breathes. She doesn't know why she can't outright deny that she will ever get married like she used to be able to do.

"But you've been thinking about it." He sounds accusing, she doesn't take it likely. He has no right to nose in on her life when she has been trying so desperately to stay out of his.

"Yes, Tony. I have," she fires back. She stops walking, whirling around to face him as she leans against the rail on the flat landing of the stairs. "I know it may come as a shock to you, but I am a woman. We are allowed to think these things from time to time."

"You think I don't know that?" He's taking up space now. Making himself look bigger in what she thinks is supposed to be intimidation. She doesn't see it.

"Sometimes I think you forget." She is not up to fighting, not right now. They're needed in MTAC for some sort of conference call concerning E.J's team. She is not looking forward to it, and Tony really isn't helping matters. His mere presence reminds her of the relationship she wishes she didn't know about, but she can see it as clear as day. Sometimes it really sucks to be observant.

Her steps are slow as she continues up to the second landing, she is in no rush. She doesn't think Gibbs will be mad that she caused this meeting to be held up. He has been on edge since the director's call. His dislike for the female superior opposite him nearly rivaled hers. She reveled in it.

"How could you think that I could forget something like that?" Tony asks. He is hot on her heels, practically breathing fire down her neck like some sort of mythical dragon, and she can't understand what's gotten into him. One second he is ragging on her for even mentioning marriage, like it's not within her rights as an American citizen; and the next second he is pushing the issue of _their _relationship, like they have one in the first place. He confuses her beyond recognition sometimes, if that makes any sense.

"Oh, I do not know Tony. Maybe it has something to do with the way you act around me now!" The statement is tossed over her shoulder as she pivots off the top step quickly. She wants to get away from him. It's a shame they're going to have to stand in a dark room together for who knows how long.

"I am not acting any differently!" He is protesting, trying to stand up for himself in order to stop her accusations. She won't quit now though, not until some things are out in the air at long last.

"Maybe that is what is wrong then!" She whirls on him, her hands flying up in a huff as she stands in front of the silver door where the rest of the team awaits inside. He started this, and she will be the one to finish it. "You are not truly doing anything at all!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" His arms are crossed, and his eyebrow is arched. It's good to know that he isn't going to be backing down from this either; she has been looking for a good fight for too long.

"It means that you cannot deal if you are not in control. So you take the easy avenue whenever it comes up. It is your default, yes?" Her breaths fall heavily as she fumes quite noticeably. That doesn't matter though, because that felt good.

"It's street," he remarks. His tone is clearly a brush off, and she knows he is trying to end this as quickly as possible. She will have the last word. "I don't have to be in control!"

"I would beg to differ. But that is not even the point, is it Tony?" She places her hand on the door knob, leaning in to get her eye scanned before turning to look at him once more. "The point is I am your partner, and that is all you will ever see in me."

When she opens the door to reveal darkened corridors she feels lighter. Finally, she is able to say what she is feeling. She hopes that she can continue in this direction, because bottling things up cannot be good for her heart.

**##**

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**unbetaed; 1,001**

**I have two one-shots I am working on, and I am hoping to have them out real soon. My plate is beyond full right now, but I am trying. Stress is going to be the death of me one of these days. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and I want you all to know that I write when I can. **


	16. The protecting of ones feelings

**PERHAPS ONE DAY**

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**Title: **The protecting of oneself.

**Rating: **K

**Pairing: **Tony/Ziva

**Warning: **Tags to Two-Faced

**Summary: **For as much as she wants to protect him, she knows that she must also protect herself.

**AN: **This episode was hard for me to tag, because I had so many swirling thoughts that I couldn't organize them. I tried my best though, and I hope that you enjoyed it.

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**##**

Protection is an instinct that sits high in her breast. It sticks to her ribs like the finest glue, growing steadily larger as danger begins to reveal its true form. She realizes that this instinct is something that came about when she first arrived at NCIS. It is because she has people she wants to protect. That she _needs_ to protect.

It is when this feeling begins to overwhelm her that she gives herself a mental timeout. It is like pulling herself out of the fray in order to stand on the sidelines, because it seems like the best plan for everyone. Yet as the situation begins to usurp her better judgments she knows that she cannot stand by and do nothing while the people she loves are put in danger. Even though she is on edge she will not allow her brain to become affected by her heart. She will need a clear head in order to sort things out, she is well aware of this fact.

These thoughts do nothing to help her. It doesn't matter how much distance she puts between herself and her overwhelming instincts, because these feelings will always stand strong.

##

"Are you alright Tony?" Her heart is pounding, but she thinks nothing of her own well being. She doesn't know what it means, but an eye in a drink is a sign so ominous that she can't stop the sick feeling spreading outwards from her stomach. In Israel she has seen many things of this sort, and each time it resulted in death. This time she will not let it end that way. She will do everything in her power to keep her partner safe. She hopes that he knows this.

"I'm fine." For the most part his voice is steady. There is only a slight waver that stands noticeable within his words, and she is proud of him. Lesser men would have already shown their fear, yet here he stands before her with a stiff back and dark eyes. She has never found him more attractive than she does in this moment.

"Good," she replies. The conversation seems stilted now. She doesn't know what to say to him, so she stands back as he pulls out his phone to call Gibbs. He's going through the motions now, doing things that only a true investigator would remember, and she wonders if he will eventually go into shock once his adrenaline runs out.

"Gibbs is on his way," Tony announces.

She nods because her words are still lost to her. Before she would toss out a quip, making light of the situation, but she can't do that anymore. Not after everything that has happened.

"For some reason, all I want to do is say is 'keep your eye peeled', but I feel that's in bad taste." Tony is smiling at her. His tall frame towers over her own, but she doesn't feel intimation. All she feels is protected, she wants to invoke that feeling within him as well. She doesn't know where to start.

She gives a slight laugh, crossing her arms against her chest as a chill sets in against her bones. "I am more inclined to go with 'apple of my eye'," she responds. She is grateful that he has broken the apprehension that stands between them, because ever since the conversation they had prior to the eye incident things between them have been a bit stale.

"That would have worked had it been an appletini." He is gesturing now, and she knows that he is allowing his tensions to ebb away with words. She prefers fighting, but to each his own. "Bright eyes," he announces.

"What?" His randomness often eludes her, this time is no different. She has no idea where he is going with this, but she really wants to be on the same page. This incident may have done something that months of patience couldn't. She keeps hoping, even though she has only ever known despair.

"'Bright eyes'," he repeats. "It's the perfect saying. It just fits." He is grinning now, pushing his fingers into his pocket as he looks at her.

The light in his eyes is something she hasn't seen in far too long. Lately he has been so guarded around her that she doesn't know what to do. But in the here and now, they are finally able to come together like they haven't in years. She hopes this is a taste of the future, though for some reason she knows that that won't be the case. "It does."

There is silence around them now, seeping into the available spaces as they hold down the scene. They stand guard by the door, not letting anybody leave or get in. The interrogations will have to wait until Gibbs gives the okay, because with a matter this personal he might want to do things the Gibbs way.

"You okay?" he asks after a pause. She wonders if he is just making conversation now.

"Fine." She rattles off, feeling a sudden bite of cold that seeps in from the front door. She wonders if she will be getting any sleep tonight. She doubts it.

"I'm glad," he murmurs. His hand is on her elbow, and she attributes the sudden warmth that slips through her body to his body heat, and not to any sort of reaction that she might be having towards him. She likes to think that she has past this stage.

She nods again, reveling in the silence that often surrounds them. It scares her how unsettled he can make her feel, but she hides it from him because it is for the best. Even though she feels the need to protect him at all cost, she knows that she also needs to protect her heart from him. It is a fine line that she constantly walks, but she doesn't know any other way.

"I am glad you were here tonight," she says eventually. The truth is hard to push past her lips, but she forces it to happen. She wants to be more open with him, if only to fix things.

"Me too." His words are soft spoken, but she doesn't think she has heard anything truer fall from his mouth. "I can't think of anyone else I would rather have with me." There is a pause, and all she can hear is the pounding of her heart within her chest. "When danger strikes that is." His chuckle is nervous, and he rubs the back of his neck softly. She sees the gesture for what it is, and she smiles at him in response.

"Of course," she smirks.

When Gibbs walks in the air around them breaks, and Ziva feels the room lighten. She's not entirely relieved at the save, but she knows that it is for the best. She and Tony are not ready to deal with all that stands between them. She hopes that one day all can be resolved.

**##**

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**1,166; unbetaed.**

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**One more tag and then I will be all caught up. :]**


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