Summary: Ziva gets pissed off when she realizes Tony's head is too full of a certain somebody to listen to her. Tag to 9x17 "Need to Know."
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. Never will :( even if I started burning rose-scented incense and dancing naked under the moonlight while swinging a dead meerkat above my head ... oh, too gross? Sorry :S I don't own Eagle Eye or ... any Bond girls ... either. :D
Spoilers: 9x15 "Secrets" and 9x17 "Need to Know."
Please forgive my disclaimer, enjoy the story, and review at the end! Thanks!
"… And I realized that this could actually be something I could get used to—hey!" She smacked hard him on the arm, and he jumped, nursing the spot where she had hit him.
"What? What was that for?"
"Do not ask me how my speech went if you have no intention of listening!"
"I was listening," he protested with what sounded like self-righteous indignation, and the elevator dinged its descent to the parking garage just then. She checked her watch as she grabbed a bit of his coat and dragged him out of the metal box, ignoring his yelps.
"Twenty seconds," she said, gritting her teeth and turning to face him. "We were in that elevator for twenty seconds, and you did not hear a single word I said in that time."
"Yes, I did."
"What did I say, then?"
"Uh … that they were interested…"
She held back the urge to slap him by digging through her purse for her car keys. "Wrong answer. No Movie Night tonight."
"Oh, c'mon," he said incredulously. "You're cancelling on me because I stopped listening to you for twenty seconds?"
She found her keys. "No, I am cancelling on you because your head is clearly full of Ava Baransky tonight. You need time to forget about her."
She met his eyes and regretted it the moment she did, because he looked suspiciously like he was silently laughing at her. "You're jealous," he said accusingly, as if that was news to him.
She opened her mouth … and then shut it, suddenly at a loss of words. Finally she settled for patting his coat and walking away. "Think whatever you want," she threw over her shoulder.
"Jealous of a fashion model, Ziva? Really?" he called out mockingly after her, so it was a good thing that the slam of her car door kept his voice out of the vehicle and herself safely inside. She sighed and turned the key in the ignition.
Sometimes she wanted just so badly to beat him up.
She was only one-third through Eagle Eye when the incessant ringing of her doorbell made her growl, pause the movie, and stomp all the way to the door.
"What?" she snapped at it.
"It's Tony," a muffled voice answered from the other side, so she undid the locks and yanked the door open, almost ripping it off its hinges.
He held up his hands passively before she could say anything and jerked his head at the plastic bag he held. "Peace offering," he explained.
She narrowed her eyes at it. "Chinese?"
"Got it from your favourite place."
She debated for a few seconds before grudgingly stepping aside. "Come in."
He went inside and straight to her living room couch, but while she usually appreciated the way he just made himself at home in her apartment, she rather resented it tonight.
"You are in my seat," she told him curtly as she stalked into the room, and he looked up at her in confusion.
"How can I be in your seat? I'm in my seat. This is where I sit when we have Movie Nights."
"Well, this is where I sit when we do not have Movie Nights, which we do not have right now because I cancelled it." She glared at him firmly, and he stared back, refusing to budge.
Finally she sighed and gave up, curling up next to him in her customary Movie Night spot and reaching for her food. "At least tell me you got extra prawns."
She took up the remote, pressing Play, and it wasn't three seconds before he snickered.
"Eagle Eye, Ziva? Really?"
"Are you going to be mocking me all night?" she asked tiredly.
"Are you going to be pissed at me all night?"
She thought about it. "Yes. But at least I was not pissed at you in the morning. That should count for something."
"It should, except I've no idea why you're pissed at me now."
"It annoys me when you ask a question and don't listen to my answer," she grumbled, and he had the good sense to look penitent.
"I'm sorry, Ziva. I should've listened."
"You're still pissed," he pushed quietly after a few seconds.
"I am, because you will not shut up and let me watch my movie."
"Hey! I brought food as a peace offering!"
"It's not always going to be that easy, Tony."
"What isn't always going to be that easy?"
"Getting me to forgive you."
"Okay." He grabbed the remote and paused the movie again, earning another glare. "While I'd love to stay all night and play guessing games with you, I really don't know why you're pissed at me and I'd like to know, Ziva, 'cause apart from not listening to you for twenty seconds, I don't remember doing anything wrong."
She chewed on her lip, trying not to mind too much the way he was focusing intently on her and making her nervous. "Nothing," she admitted in a low voice. "You did nothing wrong. Now, if I say I'll stop being pissed at you, can we continue to watch the movie?"
"Nope," he announced, and she rolled her eyes. "'Cause you'd be lying."
"I don't see how that is any of your concern."
"Well, this time it actually is, 'cause you'd be lying to me about me."
She shrugged. "It would not be the first time."
He clutched dramatically at his heart, and she rolled her eyes again. "Y'know, that one actually stings."
"Nothing could ever hurt you, Mr DiNozzo Charm." She put down her food and beckoned, trying to look as casual as she could. "Give me back the remote."
"No…" he drawled, holding the remote firmly to his chest. "Not until you tell me what you've been lying about."
"Okay. I had cereal instead of toast for breakfast today. I lied because I did not want you to know I was out of bread. Give me back the remote."
He handed her back the remote, apparently startled enough that he didn't give the action much thought. "Why would I care about your being out of bread?"
"Maybe that's the problem," she muttered, and she thought she saw him blink in surprise out of the corner of her eye.
"You … want me to stock your place with bread?" he asked cautiously.
"No, Tony," she answered, suddenly numb and dejected. "I want you to care."
The silence dragged on for interminable minutes before he finally picked up her abandoned carton of Chinese food and shook it under her nose. "Extra prawns."
"Look, I spaced out during an elevator ride, and I'm sorry. But that doesn't mean I never pay attention to you. Okay?"
"Okay," she replied, giving him the most cheerful smile she could muster.
She turned back to watch the movie again, but he wasn't fooled. "Hey," he said gently, tugging on her arm until she conceded to move the tiniest bit closer. "You know how many women I buy Chinese for?"
"I don't know." She threw her hands up in exasperation. "A lot?"
He shook his head. "Only you."
"Well, that makes me feel so special."
"You should," he answered seriously, "'cause I didn't even bother to remember Wendy's food preferences. Okay, maybe because I was young and foolish and thought I could get away with it, but still … you never asked me to remember the extra prawns."
She ignored the silent and I did in his sentence and mulled over the fact. "You really should not put me before Wendy."
She scoffed. "If I have to explain the concept of you-are-supposed-to-know-the-woman-you-want-to-marry-best, Tony, then—"
"I wanted to marry her," he corrected. "Not anymore."
"You might want to, eventually, if she comes back to NCIS again and you decide to have a thing with her. And why did you not decide that in the first place?"
"I had other priorities," he hedged, and her eyes widened sceptically.
"You had priorities more important than her?"
"'Course I do, you being one of them. If you think I'm going to ignore my partner of almost six years in favour of a woman I haven't spoken to in nine, then you're sadly mistaken."
"Yes, but I don't see what I have to do with anything." She ran a hand through her hair in frustration while he studied her.
Then he slung an arm around her and pulled her to his side, and her brow furrowed in annoyance even as her body yearned to snuggle into him. He rubbed her arm up and down, calmly, slowly, until she relaxed and rested her head on his shoulder. And then he kissed her hair.
"Someday you'll figure it out," he promised. "But for now, will you please just accept that extra prawns is my way of showing that I care?"
"Okay," she mumbled reluctantly. She wasn't quite done being mad at him yet.
He chuckled and took the remote from her, playing the movie once again. "Just so you know, even all the Bond girls together couldn't hold a candle to you. And Ava Baransky? Smokin', but you'd beat her in five seconds flat." He gave her a tiny quirk of his mouth. "Anyone ever asked me to choose, I'd still say you were hottest."
She gave him a light thump on the chest, making him fake a cough. "Idiot."
"Oh, that's what I get for calling you hot?"
"You cannot pretend that I am more attractive than fashion models and movie stars."
"Okay, maybe not 'hottest,'" he said after some thought, and she tried to ignore the way hurt sliced through her heart. "Most beautiful."
That made her still for a whole minute, trying to take in and trying to understand his words, before she finally breathed out again. "Hmm."
"That one better?"
She glanced up to find his eyes twinkling down at hers. "You better not be trying to mess with my mind."
"Oh, no. I never joke or lie about a woman's beauty."
She snorted and tried to be a little more surreptitious about burying her nose into him. "I like it," she added as an afterthought.
His hold on her tightened. "Me, too."