Author's note

Finally! My first own fanfic. Well, actually not the first, but the first that doesn't just consist of random sentences and actually made it from inside my head into the computer and now onto you screen.

I just had to, well as the title said try to make recoil right. It was undeniably an awsome episode, but left me feeling very disturbed and miserable. I'm so happy that there are already so many fics out there that pick up the pieces and try to mend TIVA back where it belongs - together. (Last sentence sounded kinda strange, but I guess you get what I'm trying to say, but that brings me to my next point.)

Please note that English is not my first language. If there are any mistakes whatsoever; some words and expressions sound just odd, strange, oldfashioned or whatever, please tell me. I'm a real perfectionist I guess, that's probably why most of my ideas didn't reach the level of actually being postable so far. But if you tell me which improvements I could make, I'm gonna try to correct the mistakes and repost the chapters, even though I don't know yet if that's even possible, since I've never done this before.

I don' really care if you review or not. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to hear what you think, but no one should feel obliged to review. Now that I've started this I'm going to post it anyway; I've definitely put too much work into this and written in the back-row of too many lectures during which I should have actually paid attention, to let this go to waste. OK if all of you send me flames and say that this is complete rubbish, I probably won't post the rest of the chapters, but I'm pretty satisfied with what I've come up with so far, not completely, but I think it's good for a first try. I even thought about going M-rated with this for a while, but that would probably have been much too much. And I like this pretty much as it is going to be, even without smut.

My draft says there are going to be 3 chapters, which are already more or less complete. I have the tendency to, well like mentioned in the beginning, write random sentences and paragraphs, whatever comes to my mind and have to fill the gaps if I really want someone to be able to read this. So: update will come, but might take a few days.

To cut this (very) long story short, I hope you haven't fallen asleep yet: Lean back and enjoy the ride!!

Oh yeah, disclaimer, nearly forgot. Well,obviously I don't own NCIS. Otherwise I wouldn't have to write this down, but could watch what I want to happen on TV.

Chapter 1

"What are you doing here?" Ziva was exhausted. After giving Michael the number of his girlfriend/former girlfriend/soon-to-be-once-again girlfriend she just wanted to get home, maybe take a shower, and finally sleep again - sleep for days. But as she approached the door of her apartment she found it blocked by the body of her very annoying partner. Tony was sitting in front of her door and stared off into space. He had obviously been there for quiet a while and had tried to make himself comfortable on the hard floor, probably not very sucessfully.

He lifted his head and his tradmark smile was plaing on his lips as if to ask, why it whouldn't be completely normal for him to be here at close to midnight. He knew his smirk irritated her, and he also knew that he was playing with fire and his health, trying to coax a reaction out of her that wasn't "I'm fine". But even if she went all ninja-chick on him with a paperclip, it would still be better than being shut out completely. He had been irritated by her the last few days, hell, even sometimes intimidated as imaginary-Kate had so nicely put it, and he didn't like it, didn't like it at all.

And so he found himself in front of her door half of the evening, waiting, dreading that she might not return this night at all, or even come here with her new "boyfriend". He knew he wasn't, he knew she knew that the guy was still hung up on his ex, would be no part of her future, and he knew that he was just someone to make her forget. 'Been there, done that,' he thought. But that didn't make it hurt any less. He was there, and he wanted to help. Oh yeah, and there was also this stupid twisting knive in his gut that felt traitorously like jealousy. She had even said it, which shocked him actually, because it always seemed like a silent agreement between them: always feel, always know, never tell.

"I ask again," Ziva said still standing a few feet away from him, now looking down at him gravely, "what are you doing here?"

"Well," Tony rose to his feet, stepped aside and gestured for her to unlock the door, while he rambled on, "since you don't wanna drink and let me listen while you talk, or drink while you listen and I talk, we'll just stay silent and I'm gonna make sure that you actually get some sleep at last, even if I have to knock you unconscious for that!"

After the past few dreadful days Ziva couldn't help the quizzical huff that escaped her mouth and sounded more like a chuckle, as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. "As if you ever could."

Tony decided to ignore this, and followed her into the apartment, relieved that she had actually finally reacted like the Ziva he knew and loved. Yep, loved, as in LOVE! He'd had quiet some time to think, sitting on the floor, to finally admit this to himself; at least when none of her neighbors interrupted him, suspecting he was a hobo, just like Ziva had a few years ago, until he showed them his badge. Didn't seem to appease them very much anyway.

But now he stood in her appartment, that looked like her and even kinda smelled like her, and even though he was still scared she might inflict some 'physical pain' if he went too far, he decided not to show fear as he casually perched onto her sofa, and found that it was much more comfortable than her doormat.

Ziva had simply strode through the room before him and headed to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. Since she didn't feel very welcoming yet she decided not to offer something to her unexpected, or actually not so much, guest. She didn't even expect him to be there anymore when she stepped back into the room, somehow she thought he might have vanished or something like that. "Tony," she exhaled, "what are you doing her – still!" She went around the room, picking up her jacket, which she had abandoned next to her shoes when she had stepped into her home, just to have something to do and not to deal with him.

Tony recognized her attempts to avoid him, and felt like he prevailed for once. He rose and slowly strode over to her. Scaring or threatening her right now would be fatal, so he had to be careful, but not too much. She wouldn't accept pity, and he was not offering any, so he fell back into their old banter-mode as he stood behind her exactly close enough to show her that he was close, without being too close. "I told you sweet cheeks, I'm gonna make sure that you can finally really sleep."

She spun around at this and her dangerously gleaming eyes met his sparkling ones. "Michael was – was -," she started but didn't know how to continue. Her head hurt from sleep deprivation, because her sleep of the last few nights had been haunted by flashbacks of shooting the killer, who hand nearly killed her, because she had let him take control, and didn't have her weapon with her. "Anyway, I'm not going to sleep with you, Tony, just because you're here right now," she spat out in exasperation, more annoyed about her own exhaustion than about him.

"Yes, you are. You are going to sleep with me, and I'm going to slepp with you. Next to each other. But we are not going to have sex, if that's what you mean. But I need this, too, OK?" She finally looked up into his intense eyes and saw that he was serious and that he wouldn't try to have sex with her. 'At least not today,' she added in her mind smiling.

As he gently guided her towards her own bedroom she felt confused again, a feeling she had come to know quiet well since the shooting, and which she was tremendously sick of. But as she felt the warmth of his hand creep through her shirt she also felt a rush of hope and the same cocktail of emotions, she always experienced when he was near, rush through her body. "What -," she started to ask in bafflement as she turned her face toward him, when they reached the bed.

But she quickly dropped her eyes gaze when Tony lifted his hands, cupped her cheeks and spoke softly. "Like I said. No talking. Alright? Just let it be for tonight. I'm here whenever you wanna talk, no matter what about. But right now, just accept. You are tired, I am tired. Sleep usually helps to cure that."

She wanted to know so badly, if this was what she felt it was, what she hoped. But on the other hand: if he was offering, without questions, without obligations – maybe she could enjoy the illusion just for one night, rather than never, which would probably be the consequence if she insisted on telling him what she wanted this to mean, because he would most likely make a bolt for it. So she remained silent and started getting a T-shirt and some pants to sleep in from her drawer. She was in such a sleepy trance already that she didn't even care or notice when Tony turned around to give her some privacy to change.

After she slipped under the covers he stripped to his T-shirt and boxers and went to switch off the light before he layed down next to her, leaving her some space between their bodies, so she would know that he did not want to do anything but sleep – tonight.

"I trust you, you know?" Tony wispered into the darkness, knowing that this was one of the things she had hated the most about his assignment with Jeanne, when she must have thought that he didn't.

"Hm, no talking. You promised" was all she murmured in reply and he smiled when he felt the bed move as she shifted closer to him. He did not think of her as a cuddler, but he was fairly sure that she would finally end up in his arms throughout the night. Smiling at this and listening to her steady breathing he soon fell asleep too.