Title: Keeping Watch (1/1)

Author: Aerial312
Rating: T
Category: Fluff
Spoilers/Timeline: Season 3, a post ep for "Under Covers"

Word Count: 1768
Disclaimer: I own nothing…I just borrow.
Feedback: Greatly appreciated.

Ziva put the car in park, and looked over at Tony. He was sound asleep. She had figured as much when the commentary about her driving ceased. She wondered if he would question that she knew how to get to his apartment, despite never having been there. Addresses were part of the dossiers she had created for Ari as his control officer.

Ziva yawned. She was exhausted too, but she could not bring herself to wake him just yet. His day had been a lot tougher than hers, that and he was not as accustomed to it as she was. She would wake him in an hour. There was still a chance he could have a concussion. She would have to keep watch. It was the only way she could justify staying all night.

She set the alarm on her phone, then retrieved her book from her backpack and opened it to the bookmark. She slouched in the seat and read. An hour later, her phone chirped. Tony blinked awake at the noise.

"Hello, sleepyhead."

He groaned. "I can't breathe out of my nose again."

"That is what happens when you break it. It swells." Ziva got out of the car and crossed around to his side. "Are you still dizzy?" she asked when she opened the door.

"We'll see when I stand up," he sighed.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing the car to help balance. He took a deep breath through his mouth. "I'm steady. Enough."

Ziva was unconvinced, and wrapped her arm around his waist for support. He didn't fight her about it, instead put his arm around her shoulders to hold on.

"Ducky said I needed Scotch," Tony reminded her, as she settled him onto the couch.

"He did," she confirmed, studying him. "Are you comfortable?"

Tony shrugged. "I'm okay."

"Do you want to eat?"

Tony shook his head, grimacing at the movement.

"You must really be in pain to pass up food."

"I'm exhausted."

She nodded. "You look exhausted. Where is the Scotch?"

"Kitchen. Cupboard next to the fridge."


"Medicine cabinet. Bathroom."

She walked to the kitchen. When she returned with the drinks, she paused in the doorway, watching him silently. His eyes were closed. She smiled softly. He had really been through a lot today.

Ziva put his Scotch down on the coffee table and curled onto the couch beside him. She took a long sip from her own class. Usually she did not care for Scotch, but a drink was called for after the day they had, and Scotch was all he had short of opening a bottle of wine.

Tony snored, as air tried to pass through his swollen nose. He could sleep a little longer. Ducky's prescription could wait. She figured sleep would be fitful with the discomfort he was in, so there would be an opportunity soon. Ziva leaned into his arm, sipping on her Scotch. Her eyes were just drifting closed when he woke coughing.

She sat up quickly, putting her glass on the table. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, putting his head in his hands. "It's really annoying to not be able to breathe right. My head is throbbing."

"Your Tylenol is right there."

Tony grabbed the pills off the coffee table, and downed them with the Scotch.

"I guess I forgot to get water…" Ziva laughed.

"This is fine." He took another sip, then put the glass down, letting his head hang.

Ziva knelt up beside him, and brought her hands to his shoulders, kneading softly.

He groaned again.

"Helping or hurting?" she asked, stilling her hands.

"Helping. Don't stop."

Ziva smiled and continued. Tony scooted forward so that she could kneel behind him fully. His back pressed to her front. He was still quite muscular for someone who ate nothing but fast food.

After a moment, Tony sat up. "Can't lean forward like that. Makes it worse."

Ziva crawled out from behind him, and settled with a knee on either side of his lap, her skirt bunched around her hips. She took it as a sign of how lousy he felt that he did not notice. "Put your head on my shoulder," she instructed.

He hesitated.

"It's okay."

He put his head down against her neck as she began to work his shoulders with her fingertips and the heel of her hand. They sat in silence for a while.

"The last time I broke my nose it wasn't this bad."

"You got hit seven times. It is probably broken in more than one spot."

"Have you ever broken your nose?"

Ziva snorted. "Many times."

"Is that why you snore so bad?"

She smacked his arm. "Possibly."

Her knees were starting to ache, but he seemed comfortable, so she remained still. His arms were resting casually around her waist. Her hands continued to work the sides of his neck.

"I'm not usually this big a baby when I get hurt," he murmured into her collarbone.

"Yes, you are."


"You whine about a paper cut for hours."


"You banged your leg on your desk last week and you did not shut up about your poor bruised shin for days," she laughed.

Tony raised his head and scowled at her. He reached around her, and picked up his Scotch, draining it. He set it down beside her partially full glass.

"I thought you didn't like Scotch."

"I do not"

"And yet you're drinking it."

Ziva shrugged. "I needed a drink."

Tony sat back to study her for a moment. Ziva was aware his eyes were on her. She resisted his gaze, leaning and laying her head on his chest.

"You're tired," he noted.

"We have had a very long day," Ziva sighed.


Silence settled in again.

Some time later, Ziva awoke groggily, and it took her a moment to realize where she was. She was still on Tony's couch, straddling his lap. From the pain in her knees, she knew they had been sitting like that for some time. She had not meant to fall asleep. Tony was sleeping too, she could tell from the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. The Tylenol was probably helping the pain, and he was breathing a little better. She was not going to interrupt that. Her knees would be okay a little while longer.

His body was warm beneath her, and she snuggled closer. It was kind of nice to be around him like this, when he was not ruining the moment by talking. And she did not have to answer questions from about why she enjoyed his arms so much. She could not even answer that question properly to herself.

"You awake?"

She was drawn out of her thoughts by his question.

"Mmmhmm," she murmured into his chest.

"Did you sleep?" he asked.

"A little," she answered, sitting up.

Her curly, brown hair fell in her face. He brushed it out of the way.

"My knees hurt now though," she sighed, climbing off of him.

Her body cried out at the loss of contact, but she kept her face carefully blank. He rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers.

"How is your headache?" she questioned, cutting through the silence.

"It's bad again." He leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes.

Ziva stood and tugged his hand. "You should go to bed."

"Yeah." His eyes opened with a wince.

Tony started to stand, and faltered, flopping back down onto the cushion.

"Woah…" He clenched his eyes shut.

"Dizzy?" Ziva asked.

"Very…" Tony grunted, putting his head in his hands.

She placed her hand gently on the back of his head, threading her fingers into his hair. He tipped to the side, letting his head rest on her hip. Was this just because he got up too quickly, or had she missed signs that he was getting worse?

"Open your eyes," she ordered.

He did without argument, and turned to look up at her.

His pupils were even, and focused on her. Good. "Follow my finger." She horizontally across his line of vision, and he followed it movement. "Good. Describe your headache."

Tony sighed, nuzzling into her hip and closing his eyes. "It hurts."

"Sharp pain?"

"Throbbing. But not sharp."

She stroked his head for a moment before continuing. "Nauseous?"

"A little. I was fine until I tried to stand. Concussions suck."

"They do. But you can rest. It is worse when you cannot let your guard down to rest."

Tony turned his gaze upward again, and studied her thoughtfully. It made her uncomfortable. She had shared too much. She backed away to break the moment, careful not to jostle his head.

"Do you want to try to make it to the bed?"

"That question's usually in a different context."

"In your dreams."

"Every night."

Ziva shook her head with a laugh. "Come on."

This time he was steady enough to stand and maneuver to the bed. Once he was settled under the covers in his boxers, she perched on the edge.

"Are you leaving?" His voice sounded small to her.

"You are just trying to get me in your bed," she teased.


Ziva smiled at him, and pushed herself to her feet. She kicked off her shoes, and reached for the waistband of her skirt. Tony's eyes widened. Ziva smirked, and let the garment fall to the floor.

"You saw this all last night, yes?"

"Doesn't mean I don't want to look again."

Ziva plucked a t-shirt out of his closet. "I am wearing this to bed."

"Okay," Tony sighed, but watched eagerly as Ziva slid out of her blouse and pulled her tanktop over her head.

"You still cannot touch," Ziva grinned, crawling up close beside him in little more than his shirt.

"On the couch, you fell asleep on my lap." Tony argued.

"And in your bed, I will fall asleep over here. And you will stay over there. And keep your hands to yourself." It was just easier to think straight when he was not touching her.

"You'll be gone when I wake up."

It was not a question, she noted, nor an accusation, just a statement. He knew that she would leave early.

"I run every morning before work."

"It's 3am, and you've slept for maybe two hours."

"I have made do with less." She pulled the covers up. "Do you need anything else?"

"I'm good."

Ziva turned on her side, facing him. He closed his eyes.

"Ziva?" he asked after a moment, eyes still closed. "Thank you."