Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.

Pillow Talk

It was late – very late – and Tony DiNozzo was fast asleep in his favourite chair, despite the aches and pains he knew he would have the next day. He was just in the middle of a dream that involved him taking Sean Connery's place as James Bond, when he was interrupted by a knocking on the door.

Dragging himself from the depths of slumber, Tony stumbled out of his chair and to the door, rubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to wake up, before pulling it open. In a split-second, his weariness was forgotten and he was alert and awake once again.

Ziva David stood outside his door. Her hair was tousled from sleep, her clothes probably doubled as her sleepwear. But what had caught Tony's attention was the tear stains streaking her face.

He had only ever seen Ziva cry once and that was in Paris. In the middle of the night, he had been woken by a scream and it was only then she had admitted the nightmares that plagued her.

Before then, he had slept lightly, staying rigid on his side of the king-size bed, giving her space. But as the details of her nightmare spilled out, he had pulled her to him automatically, letting her cry it out until she fell asleep in his arms.

"Ziva …" Tony reached out to her and she flinched away, causing him to pause for a moment, before he grasped her wrist gently and pulled her forwards, folding her into an embrace.

For once, she didn't fight or hesitate. She melted into his arms and dissolved into sobs again, her whole body shaking with the force of them.

Murmuring words of reassurance, Tony guided her through into his bedroom and gently coaxed her into slipping her shoes off. This time, when her tears dried up, she didn't fall asleep immediately; her hold loosened just a little, but she didn't move, absorbing the comfort he offered.

"He killed you."

Tony started slightly at the sudden statement from his silent partner, but quickly recovered. "Who?"

Ziva shifted slightly on his lap. "Saleem. He slit your throat and I was forced to watch you bleed out."

"Hey …" Tony shifted slightly to cup her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I'm here. We're both here. He's dead; he can't do anything anymore."

After a brief pause, Ziva leaned in and kissed him softly. Automatically, Tony kissed her back, sliding a hand into her hair before common sense kicked in and he pulled away.

"No."

"You …" Ziva faltered. "You don't want this?"

Tony felt his resolve crumble a little at the heartbroken expression in her eyes, but this just proved to him what he already knew. "Not like this, Ziva. You're not yourself right now; please don't ask me to take advantage of you like this."

It was obvious she didn't agree with him, but she nodded nonetheless and didn't argue when he gently released her, letting her take his bed for the night. He kissed her forehead and stood up, turning the light off at the door. Before he could leave, her soft voice halted him in his tracks.

"Stay."

Tony sighed, turning around. "Ziva …"

"No." Ziva shook her head. "Just stay. Please."

Tony hesitated a second more, but he could rarely say no to her when she looked at him like that. Climbing into bed next to her, he held an arm out as she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his chest.

"You were right." She murmured.

"I usually am." Tony joked. "But what exactly was I right about this time?"

"Michael." Ziva whispered. "In Tel Aviv, you said I was upset that someone of no training at all had taken out a Mossad officer. I thought you were wrong, but I … I had a long time to think about things. And you were right. I had always had faith that my training could protect me from anything and, however good an agent you are, you have never had that training. I suppose it … scared me a little that something like that could happen."

Tony couldn't see her face, but that somehow made his admission easier and he wondered if that was why she had been able to make hers. "You were right too. About Michael. I was jealous, but that's not why I was at your apartment. I thought he'd gone; I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"You had nothing to be jealous of." Ziva curled a hand into his shirt, clutching it tightly. "I talked myself into believing that I was in love with him, when, in actuality, I was settling for second-best. I was sure that after … LA … any chances of there being anything more to … to us had been broken with the team."

Silently cursing Vance, Tony kissed her forehead. "You know, Sweet Cheeks, you'd have saved us both a lot of trouble if you'd told me that on the Seahawk."

"I did not want to make things awkward for you to come home." Ziva explained. "I know I have said it before, but I am sorry for everything you had to go through … Michael, my father, Somalia …"

"Alright, let's get this clear right now." Tony shifted carefully so she could see his face. "It is not your fault what happened. Especially not Somalia. Your father ordered you to go."

"But it was my choice to continue alone." Ziva stated quietly.

Tony felt his heart stop. "What?"

"I survived the Damocles sinking because I was not on it when the storm hit." Ziva whispered. "We had been found out. We took out the crew and took a life-boat to Somalia. When we got there, I was the only one uninjured."

"Ziva, how did you expect to survive that?" Tony asked, dreading the answer.

"I did not intend to." Ziva averted her gaze and he saw another tear form. "It was clear to me as soon as you had left that I had made a mistake, one which I knew would never be forgiven. I had faced life without you once and I did many stupid things, Michael being one of them. I could not … would not go through it again."

"You have been forgiven, Ziva." Tony cupped her face, silently willing her to understand. "You had been forgiven. What happened in Tel Aviv … yes, it hurt me, but I knew why you did what you did. You weren't thinking straight. I wasn't either, after Jeanne."

"But I did not love Michael." Ziva repeated. "I have already said that."

"And I didn't love Jeanne." Tony smiled wryly, though it looked more like a grimace. "Not really. I didn't realise it until Jenny … died … and Vance split us up and I realised that losing you hurt a hell of a lot worse. Because it's you, Ziva. It's always been you. Ever since you walked into the bullpen and asked me if I was having phone sex."

A smile appeared on her face at the memory, the first genuine smile he had seen in at least a few days.

"I love you, Ziva." Tony whispered. "And I don't want whatever happens between us to be a short-lived fling because you need someone to comfort you. I will always be here for you, I promise, but my heart can't take that."

"Neither could mine." Ziva admitted quietly. "I love you, Tony."

Tony's face broke into a smile and he kissed her, purposely keeping his touch light, before pulling away and pulling her a little closer, his arm staying loosely around her waist.

"I need a little time." Ziva murmured as sleep began to steal over them.

"I know." Tony kissed the top of her head. "Take all the time you need, Sweet Cheeks. I'm not going anywhere."

AN: Review please!