A/N It's currently 12:09am as I write this. I really should be sleeping. Oh well.

Just a little oneshot which is kind of fluffy. All the Tiva I've been writing recently has been pretty dark and/or depressing, so here's something slightly happier.

All bold italics are lyrics, all normal italics are flashbacks/memories, and all normal writing is present tense.


Every Little Thing You Do

They'd been together for a year. Tony and Ziva. Anthony DiNozzo and Ziva David.

After the death of their director, being reassigned and then reassigned again, they'd finally decided to start dating. For the first month, they'd kept it from everyone else. But after one kiss in the elevator was caught on a security camera, they'd been more open. Of course, they toned everything down when other people were around, but when they were alone...

Tony sat at his desk one particular day, thinking.

Hello, let me know if you hear me
Hello, if you want to be near
Let me know
And I'll never let you go

He rembered the time he'd asked her out.

"Ziva?" he asked. They'd just wrapped up another case, as usual, but this one involved an ex-Mossad officer who just happened to be Ziva's friend.

He'd been shot to deathin a standoff with the FBI.

"What?" Ziva said thickly. Tony recognized the voice – hiding as much emotion as she could while trying to sound normal.

Tony walked over to her desk and scrutinized her further. "Are you okay?"

"I am fine," she replied, her voice still not changing. She was busying herself by sorting and shuffling papers, even though it was well after eleven pm.

On one hand, Tony hated seeing her like this: hurting, upset, emotional. On the other, he almost enjoyed seeing that she wasn't just a steely-eyed assassin with no emotions at all.

And then it happened. A tear managed to break free from her eyelashes and fell right down her cheek. She tried to brush it away, but she wasn't quick enough.

"Oh, God," Tony muttered. He walked around so he was standing right next to her, so close that when he breathed his chest brushed against her arm. "Ziva."

She turned, and for a fleeting moment, she rested her forehead against his shoulder, taking a deep breath and letting her hands relax by her sides. Tony brought his hands up to rub her shoulders lightly, but stopped once she pulled away.

"You know what you need?" he asked.

"What," she replied, clearly thinking 'what's DiNozzo up to now'.

"You need dinner and a movie. There's a midnight screening of Pulp Fiction tonight. We can get pizza afterwards," Tony invited.

Ziva thought about it for a moment. "Okay."

Thinking back, Tony realised it probably didn't count as a first date. It was more of a friend-being-there-for-another-friend thing.

Hey love
When you ask what I feel, I say love
When you ask how I know
I say trust
And if that's not enough

After six months, after 36 dates, he'd told her.

He'd told her how he's felt.

They both walked slowly out of the cinema.

Ziva sighed. "That was..."

Tony coughed. "Yeah."

"That was-"

"The worst movie in the history of all movies," Tony declared.

Ziva laughed. "I must admit, I think I agree with you."

"You think?! How can you not be certain?! I've seen that movie many times and it's still the worst."

"They just would not stay out of the water!"
"Hello! People, when there's a shark swarm, you stay out of the water. Lesson of the day learnt," Tony said.

By now, they were both nearly in hysterics, holding onto one another in order to keep upright.

Once they'd calmed down just a little, Tony leant in the kissed her. It wasn't their first, but every time they did the same feeling appeared – butterflies, happiness, and-

"I love you," Tony said suddenly.

Ziva stopped laughing. "What?"

Tony looked slightly dazed. "I have no idea, it just kind of slipped out."

"You said-"

"I love you," Tony repeated, this time with more meaning and feeling. It was surprisingly easy to say, considering his past experience. "I just thought I should tell you that."

Ziva smiled and kissed him again, something which he thought was a fair reward.

But now all he could think about was why? Why did he love her?

He couldn't pinpoint it.

It's every little thing you do
That makes me fall in love with you
There isn't a way that I can show you
Ever since I've come to know you
It's every little thing you say
That makes me wanna feel this way
There's not a thing that I can point to
'Cause it's every little thing you do

Tony remembered the time after they'd repainted her apartment. In an effort to escape the fumes, she'd elected to stay the night at his place.

"Was there any particular reason for you to leave all your weapons lying across the kitchen table?" Tony yelled through the bathroom door.

"What?" Ziva yelled back in an effort to be heard over the shower.

Tony opened the door a crack. "It looks like everything you own is spread out in my kitchen."

"Get used to it," she replied.

For some reason, Tony found that highly amusing.

Don't ask why
Let's just feel what we feel
'Cause sometimes
It's the secret that keeps it alive
But if you need a reason why

She was lying across the couch, her head resting in his lap, sleeping deeply. Tony knew this because of the light snores that kept surfacing every now and then.

Lesson learned: Ziva finds The Notebook boring, he thought. He should have known.

He looked down at her. There was something beautiful about the way she slept. Sure, she was a highly attractive woman in the first place, but sleeping...there was a magical energy around her. Her long hair was over her back and her fringe had falled forward to cover part of her face.

Gently Tony pulled it back with his fingers, careful not to disturb her.

Her eyes...even when closed, they had a feeling about them. She did have the most beautiful features. Her expression of complete innocence and peace was something Tony loved.

Suddenly she woke up. "What are you doing?" she asked blearily.

"Watching you sleep," he said truthfully – she was able to detect lies even before they'd been told, so there was little point trying.

"Okay," she replied, before curling up again and going back to sleep

It was amazing how much one word could mean. "Okay". It could be an expression of emotion, of mood, of agreement.

But still, why did he love her?

Is it your smile or your laugh or your heart
Does it really matter why I love you
Anywhere there's a crowd, you stand out
Can't you see why they can't ignore you
If you wanna know
Why I can't let go
Let me explain to you
That every little dream comes true
With every little thing you do

Her smile was one of his favourite things about her. He was learning to identify them. One of them displayed sarcasm – he saw that a lot. Two was when she was laughing at someone else, usually McGee. Three was when she was content or pleased, like when she managed to drive around the whole Navy yard and return with a scratch on herself or the car. Four was when she was being polite when all she really wanted to do was run away from whoever she was talking to.

But his favourite was number five.

He saw it every time he looked up and caught her looking at him. It was a look of happiness, desire and love all rolled into one. He usually responded by doing something stupid like poking out his tongue at her, but for those few seconds, he could see how she felt about him. And he loved that.

It's every little thing you do
That makes me fall in love with you
There isn't a way that I can show you
Ever since I've come to know you
It's every little thing you say
That makes me wanna feel this way
There's not a thing that I can point to
'Cause it's every little thing you do

It was everything. He loved everything about her.

A/N Review!

Hope you liked it. I hope it turned out alright – my brain doesn't function normally even when it isn't this early in the morning.

The song: Every Little Thing You Do by Westlife.