Title: Promise?

Rating: FR7/K+

Genre: Friendship, Fluff

Pairing: McGee/Ziva

Summary: McGee and Ziva always end up being alone. So, they make a promise that would change that.

Notes: Prequel for a new story I will write after I finish Four1een R4asons Why. I got this fun idea from purpleheart10's iCarly fic, "The Pact." It's not exactly the same (I'll get labeled as a plagiarist if I did that!), but there are similarities. The sequel to this would be entirely different, though. But I can't give much away. ;) Hope you guys enjoy!

McGee held the glass under the dim lights of the bar, narrowing his eyes at the pale brown liquid in it. Gently swirling the alcohol, his tongue anticipated the bitter taste. He have lost count how many he had drank. All he knew was that he had been sitting there at the counter for a while, his sight blurred, his thinking slurred.

He sighed. It made him a bit weary to think that being alone on Friday nights had become a routine for him. Rarely did his teammates join him for any drinks. He understood; all of them actually had a life. Everyone, besides him. He would wonder what he have done wrong, only if he didn't already know the answer. Almost everyday, he would be hunched over his computer in trying to track down criminals during daytimes and even a couple of nighttimes. When he came home, his energy was spent in feeding Jethro, battling with his writer's block just to finish a very rough draft of a chapter for "Rock Hollow", and playing online games.

After that, he would be too tired to do anything else. He would just go to bed and sleep.

Plus, it was not like he was new to it, being by himself. There were countless of times where he had been left alone when he was in high school and in college. What was so special about that Friday night for him to be so down?

It escaped his notice when the door to the bar opened. What with the wavy images in front of his eyes, he didn't see it either when someone sat beside him.

"Having fun?"

McGee swiveled his head to the direction of the speaker. He smirked when he saw who it was. "Hey, Ziva," he said. "What are you doing here?"

Ziva's shoulders slightly hitched. "Just getting a couple of drinks," she answered. Her smile spread wider. "I see that you have done that," she commented. "Mind if I join you?"

"Please. Do. A company's good for a change," McGee answered.

Ziva bid the bartender to come closer before muttering, "Strawberry Daiquiri, please." The man gave a brief but friendly nod, and then was off to prepare a glass for his customer. "So. What brings you here?" she asked McGee.

"I don't really know," McGee stared at the minute volume of liquor left in his glass. "I just wanted to be out of my apartment for once, I guess."

"By yourself?"

McGee tried to prevent his defensiveness from spilling out of his mouth. "Can't really invite anyone since all of you have your own things to do for tonight," he answered instead. He frowned. "Wait. I thought, tonight, you were meeting—"

"No. He, ah, broke it off with me," Ziva cut him off. Her eyes cast down, bitterness soaking her curled lips. Even if he was a bit giddy, McGee caught the expression, and felt remorseful that he even inquired. "He said he was sorry for doing that, but I do not think he is. It may be more believable if he just told me that he never felt attracted and just wanted something from me."

For a while, they were silent. The bartender came back with Ziva's order. She consumed a little of it to soothe her throat.

"I think he's a jerk," McGee said later.

Ziva's eyebrows knitted. "The bartender?"

"No. The guy you dated," he said. "He should have known that you were a keeper." He lifted his eyes towards hers. "Don't think about it too much, Ziva. It's his loss, not yours."

"Hmm. You are only saying that because you are my friend," Ziva said, restraining a grin from rising up to her features.

"Well, yeah, a little, but I'm also saying that because I do think that."

Ziva felt her heart swell with warmth. "Thank you, McGee."

McGee responded by bowing his head. He tried listening to the song being played at the bar when he sensed some inward awkwardness. He didn't want Ziva to think that he was hitting on her right after he found out that she was free again. Besides, it wasn't his intention at all.

That attempt to understand the tune, although, was unsuccessful. His focus was anything but excellent at that moment because of his other thoughts.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Ziva asked, running a slim finger at the mouth of her glass of daiquiri as she contemplated.

"What's funny?"

"That some people always end up alone even after all of the things they do not to be."

McGee found it odd to hear her say those words, but he decided that maybe she has reached that point of questioning what her life would be in the future. It was a common ground for both of them. Considering the things she have gone through, he understood. "Maybe that would change when they get married one day," he answered, pertaining to the general subject. "It'll take time, but they'll get to that point."

"What if they do not?"

"There is always somebody for someone," McGee responded, then disdaining the bitter aftertaste of him repeating the words of wisdom constantly uttered to him by his mother. How many times have I heard that, he thought sardonically. "They just need to wait," he added, remembering that the advice was for Ziva and not for him.

Ziva nodded, and then began drinking her beverage. Moments passed before she spoke again. "When I was younger, I always dreamed of having a family of my own one day. You know, a decent house, a husband, a child or two? I guess I still want that." She rotated on her chair to face her friend, who was just finishing his final drink. "Did you ever think about having your own family, too, McGee?"

Hearing the question, McGee choked on his drink then involuntarily spat it back to the glass. Ziva frowned. He answered after the bouts of coughing. "You just sounded like my mother, Ziva," he said.

"That is a bad thing?" Ziva narrowed her eyes on him.

"No," McGee shook his head. "It's just that. . . Yes. I do want to get married some day and have my family, too. Lately, my mom had been pushing me to do that. She asks me questions about my plans—just like the one you said. Then, she tells me that I better give her grandchildren soon because the 'clock is ticking'. Too much pressure, especially because I really have not found anyone yet." He scoffed. "I doubt that I would soon."

Ziva nodded solemnly. She gazed at the wooden floors for a while, and then looked back up to McGee, meeting his eyes directly. "Alright," she said decisively. "How about two years?"

McGee was taken aback by the question. "Two years. . . to get married?" Ziva nodded. "If I find someone." He gazed at Ziva for a moment, and then finally got to what she was hinting at. "You mean we're going to get married?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"Yes, only if you and I consent at the time," Ziva answered. "McGee, think about it. We are not getting any younger every day. Both of us want the same thing, but we can't find any other person who would give us that."

"But, we're not in love, Ziva," McGee reasoned.

"What does love got to do with marriage?" Ziva asked. "The best marriages are those between individuals who are the closest friends, yes?"

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be awkward? I mean, if Gibbs finds out—"

"We will keep it a secret. Plus, we have two years. If we are seeing someone, or we did get married to a person that we think is for us, or if we completely hate each other then, we will not go on with this," Ziva insisted. "Not only that., but if we are together, it would help you in getting your mother off your shoulders."

"Back," McGee corrected, although still uncertain with the proposition. "You know, I'm not really sure that it will help—"

Ziva raised her eyebrows warningly.

McGee closed his mouth, knowing that Ziva acknowledged his lies.

Ziva bit her lip, seeing that McGee did not like the thought she had. "Maybe this is not a good idea. I am sorry for acting crazy, McGee," she said, smiling. "Forget everything that I've said."

McGee took a deep breath when he beheld Ziva's face. It was not like he didn't like the idea. He was tired of being alone, too. At least, if they were to fulfill the arrangement, that would change. He respects her, and he hoped she respects him, too. That was all they needed. "In two years," he said then. "If you and I are still by ourselves, in this exact date and exact moment, I'm going to propose to you."

"McGee, I do not want to force you into something that you do not agree to. Want, more so," Ziva said.

"Ziva. I want to," McGee answered. "You were right about everything. With what I'm doing right now, it's near impossible for me to have a family. I can't keep on waiting for someone to take pity to actually take a chance to be with me."

"You do not need pity, McGee," Ziva said, staring at him straight in his eyes. "Any woman that would call you hers will be very fortunate."

McGee chuckled. "You're only saying that because you're my friend."

"No. I am saying that because I will actually get a chance to be that woman if everything turns out right in two years."

McGee smiled, flattered by Ziva's kindness. "So, do we need to put this in writing?"

Ziva's face crunched up as she wondered. "No. Maybe we can just do one of those pinky-things that children do," she said.

"A pinky promise?"

Ziva held out her smallest finger, and then smirked at McGee.

McGee intertwined his pinky with hers, sealing the deal. "I will get married to you, Ziva David, in two years," he solemnly said.

"And I to you, Timothy McGee," Ziva stated. "I promise."

"I promise."

So what do you think? ;)