Title: Questions from A Picture

Pairing(s): TIVA & Tony/Abby friendship

Summary: Tony reflects and wonders aloud, not expecting to hear such a simple but emphatic answer. One-shot.

…

Anthony DiNozzo hurried up the last flight of stairs to his apartment, cursing every few steps. Apparently since his elevator has been out the local pizza place decided they were no longer delivering to the door, saving their drivers the hassle of walking up stairs. Winded, Tony could see why. Then again, it also gave him a reason to not tip. If he could do these stairs inebriated then the pimply faced 16 year old could, too!

"Alright, finally, pizza time!" He opened the door to his apartment to see his coworkers already passed out on his couches. He shook his head slightly, but since they all had a long week, he wasn't surprised. They had all opted out of their regular celebratory bar outing and instead went to his place for a few beers and a movie. Well, more than a few beers. Only after the leftovers from his fridge were picked clean did they decide to finally order a pizza.

Ziva took up one sofa, Tim on another and Abby had curled up on his two-seater. He refused to call it a love seat, as Tim had corrected him so many times, what love did he get from it? He shook his head at the scene. Years ago he would have imagine red cups surrounding them all, music still blaring and probably a girl waiting for him in his room. Instead, he had two women with barely finished wine glasses, a few beer bottles and the television already on low volume. How times have changed.

He grabbed another beer from the fridge, himself not yet tired, and retreated with the pizza himself into his bed room. On any other night he would have offered Abby and Ziva his bed and crash on one of the couches, but tonight he let them sleep. If they woke up he would gladly give his bed up. Well, maybe not gladly, but he would at least be a gentleman and relinquish it anyway.

He flipped through an old magazine, picked up a book he bought but never started, and in the end just flipped on his stereo and hit Seek and let the first channel play. He set the beer and pizza down on his dresser and he changed into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt, tossing his clothes towards the closet. Not in the hamper, but close enough. A familiar song started playing and he hummed along softly, remembering the melody but not the words.

He sorted through random piles around his room as he munched on his pizza, attempting to tire himself with cleaning. Some of the magazines were still interesting so he tossed them on his bed. A lot of the bills were already paid so he set them aside to shred in the morning as to not wake the others. And then he came across a picture he hadn't seen in a long time.

It was a black and white, probably long-zoom picture, taken through the living room window of her apartment. Ziva had given it to him years ago; apparently some of her father's friends had spied on them for weeks. Gibbs had left for his sabbatical, Tony was adjusting to leading the team, and he needed to unwind a lot more than normal. Ziva had sensed this and they had spent many nights at her place with movie marathons, dinners for two and just general escape from work. From the pictures alone the meetings looked pretty scandalous, Tony had to admit. They were sitting on the couch, lying down and very much looking like a couple…

His mind wandered back to those nights. They had grown so close, so fast, as if they needed to cling to each other in their off time, just to function at work. It was all so innocent; watch a few movies, have a few drinks, just take their mind away from the pain, deception and lies every day. He held the pictures delicately, smiling softly. That comfort level between them was gone for so many reasons and the pictures just brought it all back. After Gibbs' return they stopped these visits. Both of them used the fall back of the boss' rules. They knew that wasn't true.

He heard the slight crack of his bedroom door and raised his head quickly. Startled at first, his face softened.

"Sorry, did the music wake you?" Before him stood his tired and bleary-eyed Goth friend. He moved for the remote but Abby shook her head.

"No it's okay, think my back just started aching from curling up." She saw his slight progress of shuffled papers around him. "Cleaning?" He nodded slightly as he motioned for her to join him amongst magazines and papers on his unkempt bed. She quick-stepped over beside him, grabbing a slice of pizza as she made herself comfortable, knees tucked beneath her, pillow on her lap. She glanced at the pictures in his hand and smiled. "I hope those are going in the 'keep' pile."

"What?" He followed her gaze to the pictures in his hands and quickly pulled away. "Oh, well- they…" Abby chuckled, taking another bite of her pizza.

"It's okay, Tony. They're cute."

"…Cute? They're surveillance pictures." He tried to shrug casually but caught her rolling her eyes.

"Well they're cute surveillance pictures." He slowly looked at the pictures once more, a silence settling between the two as he shuffled the small stack, pausing on each one.

He could feel her eyes scanning the pictures as he did, but didn't really mind. It was Abby; after all, it was hard to feel uncomfortable with her. He stopped on the last, and his favorite, picture. It was through her living room window, the curtains hiding half of their bodies. He remembered the moment the picture was snapped.

He had gone over angry. He had gotten his butt handed to him from all angles since he walked in to the building and kept feeling like a scapegoat at every turn. He was just trying to adjust to being team leader, but every time he went to his 'team' they snickered at his ideas, and reminded him at every opportunity that he wasn't Gibbs. The candy machine ate his last dollar. He spilled his coffee on his new shirt. Someone had stolen his favorite gym shorts in the locker room. He was so frustrated he had sent Ziva and McGee home early, vowing to finish the mounds of paperwork by himself. So five hours later, around 8 o'clock, Ziva had broken his last straw. She had called him over for a late dinner, and she sounded happy! He was furious that she was obviously ignoring his mood, his feelings, and went about like everything was fine.

…In retrospect he was a little sensitive those days.

So he drove over, rehearsing his tantrum he was about to throw (granted at the time he felt it was a justified ass-chewing; hindsight is completely 20/20). He rapped on the door, furious that she opened the door with a smile. She ignored his bitter and sarcastic comments and she lead his quickly and forcefully to a fully prepared meal of steak, potatoes and corn. She spoke over his negative comments of the day, irritating him in to silence. The beer she placed in front of him helped. Then the steak she cooked to perfection settled his rumbling stomach. The second beer washed it down just right. He didn't remember the conversation they had, even as they had it. By the end of dinner he had finally calmed down, realizing what an ass he had been to come over with such a bad attitude.

She stood up and cleared the dishes, getting him one last beer from the fridge. She cleared the table, put away the leftover food, and sat down with a small sigh. She looked at him and for the first time since he walked in the door he actually looked at her. Her eyes were droopy, dark circles showing how tired she truly was. Her hair was tired back in a messy bun, and her shoulders hung as if a weight had just been physically lifted off of her shoulders. He drank his beer and she sipped her wine, and he tried to think of the words of apology. She set her glass down softly and her left hand went to her neck, rubbing in a forceful motion, craning her neck. Without a word he set his drink down and went to stand behind her. He softly massaged her neck, her eyes closing slowly, head rolling forward. He rubbed her shoulders, falling into a soft kneading motion to loosen the tension. Wordlessly he showed his apology, and when he was done he let his hands rest on her shoulders. She raised her head and opened her eyes, her right arm crossing her chest to place her hand on his.

She stood and slowly turned to face him, a soft, thankful smile across her lips. He opened his arms cautiously and with a quiet chuckle she stepped into his embrace, glad they could help each other end their long days with a smile.

The click of the shutter caught that moment on camera.

"Can you miss something you never had?" Abby was surprised that he broke the silence. The question was almost hypothetical, but she racked her brain for the perfect answer. She had stayed quiet, watching his face go through a series of emotions, his eyes fixated on the picture in his hands, as if he were watching a movie.

She always had a soft spot for Tony. He was like an over-protective big brother. She always saw through his jokes, sarcasm and nonchalant attitude, so after a while she noticed he just kind of gave up around her sometimes. It made her feel special that he let down those barriers around her and because it happened so rarely she wanted to make it count when it did. What he and Ziva were she wasn't sure. They bantered like he and Kate did. He picks on her like he did McGee. He protected her like he did Abby. He was loyal to her to a fault like he was to Gibbs. He was everything to her, but in a deeper sense she seemed to be everything to him.

She knew this was the closest Tony would ever come to admitting anything more than being partners. This was the closet he would get to even suggesting he wanted anything more than that. She was sure Ziva would never say anything at all, at least to her. She wanted them both to be happy, and yet saw their conflict and why it would make things difficult between the two of them. And yet, rules and hesitation aside, they just seemed like they would fit somehow.

Tony shook his head, as if trying to shake away the thought. He stood up, putting the pictures on his nightstand, and started clearing his small piles and the pizza box from his bed. Abby stayed where she was, watching him, still trying to find the words to ease her friend's mind. When he was through he laid down atop the covers on the side of the bed he was just occupying, staring at the ceiling. She heard rustling from the living room and moved to get up. Seeing Tony still gazing into nothingness she rolled over quickly and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Just then Ziva peaked in the room slowly, surprised to see the two awake.

"Dibs on the couch!" Abby smiled widely, quickly looking back at Tony and told him in a lowered voice, "I think the better question is: how can you miss something you never lost?" And with that she smiled a goodnight to Ziva and headed for Tony's comfy couch, snagging a blanket off the edge of the bed as she went.

"Well," Ziva looked around the room and shrugged, "looks like you have cleaned." And then, as if it were the most normal thing, she climbed into bed and flicked off the light on the bedside table.

Tony watched her crawl into the other side of his bed, settling with her back to him. He shook his head, amused, and rolled over to turn off the light and music on his side table. Before the bulb flicked off the last thing he saw was the picture once more, Abby's words echoing in his head.

How can you miss something you never lost?

He crawled beneath the covers and turned to hear Ziva's soft breathing. Almost instinctually they were simultaneously drawn together. She moved back to find his presence as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Wordlessly they fell asleep, comfortable, if not ever simple.

….

A/N: Wow. This was one of those fics I had started with a very clear idea/plot in my head and it came out NOTHING like what I had planned… My stories always seem to take on a mind of their own, somehow. Please let me know what you think. Any and all feedback is appreciated. And sorry for the sporadic updates of my stories; work has decided to test of different 24hour rotations, so my sleep schedule is ridiculous! Again, please let me know what you think. And all mistakes are my own! I still have no beta. =/ And I usually write in delirium around 0300 after sitting alone in a room for 4 or 5 hours… Rambling. Kay, thanks, bye! Semper sleepy.