Title: I'm Telling You Why

Spoiler: Season 10: You Better Watch Out, Season 7: Jack Knife, "Personal Demons" (snippet from a previous story of mine)

Disclaimer: NCIS does not belong to me

Plot: Tony's dad is incredulous when he sees his son's apartment for the first time. Why does it appear that nobody lives there? TIVA

Ziva's body tensed at the mention of Tony's apartment. She cleared her throat and gave the elder DiNozzo an innocent smile before stating that she had never been invited to Tony's apartment. As Tony's father turned toward his son, with an incredulous look upon his face, Ziva hurried to her desk, eyes down. She heard Tony mumble an assent to Senior that he could stay with him for Christmas after all. Feeling McGee's eyes boring into her, she brought up Noel Huffner's file on her computer and directed her stare at the glowing screen. Tapping her fingers against the desk, she watched as the rest of the team filtered slowly out of the bullpen. After a half hour of searching through every name in the Bureau of Engraving and Printing without so much as a lead, she switched her computer off and sighed. Wrapping her scarf around her neck and pulling on her coat, she glanced at the photo hanging on the side of her computer screen and smiled.

"You're a bad liar," came McGee's voice from above her.

Ziva glanced up and rolled her eyes. Tim was peering over her atop the cubicle wall.

"Am not," she said curtly.

"Your crazy ninja training didn't prepare you for interrogation by the boyfriend's dad, did it?" McGee asked as he strode around the desk to face her, eyebrows raised.

Ziva tightened her scarf and kept her expression neutral. "McGee," she said carefully, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Sure you do," he said calmly. "I'm talking about you and Ton—oww!"

Ziva moved quickly, grabbing his hand and giving it a swift press between the bones of his thumb, twisting her hand sideways as she applied pressure. "Not. So. Loud." She hissed. Letting go, she allowed Tim his hand back.

He shook his hand out and grumbled, "everyone else is gone."

Ziva shook her head, defeated. "How long have you known?" she asked.

Tim sighed, "a while..."

2007

"Get Tony and Ziva out of bed." It had been a simple request, a miscommunication that became ironic a few minutes later. Of course, Gibbs had meant get them out of bed separately… McGee was more tired than he thought.

A minute later, he hit the speed dial for Ziva's cell phone. He was still chiding himself for the ridiculous misunderstanding when Tony answered the phone.

"Yea, McNarcolepsy?" he said, sounding half asleep.

McGee's first thought was that Tony had the uncanny ability to be sarcastic while asleep. The second was that he had called Ziva's cell phone… and Tony had answered. He suddenly felt wide awake.

After a second of silence, Tony spoke again, "McGee? Did you butt-dial me?" He yawned into the phone.

Tony hadn't yet realized that he had answered Ziva's cell phone by mistake. McGee's mind quickly went through every reasonable possibility for the mix-up… all of which were illogical. He knew the truth.

He cleared his throat, "Dead marine—Gibbs told me to wake you up." He paused, thinking over his next sentence. "And Tony?"

"Yeah?" he said, his voice becoming more lucid.

"Find Ziva… I don't think she has her cell phone on her." He hung up before Tony had the chance to respond. He tapped his phone against his chin a few times, considering the situation. He was surprised that he wasn't surprised.

McGee trusted these people with his life, and of two things he was sure: neither one would ever voluntarily jeopardize the team over something trivial. So, whatever was happening was not trivial.

Tony snorted at his father's mention of intimacy and commitment—as if Senior could lecture him on either of those principles. He picked up the phone to make dinner reservations at his favorite restaurant and watched as his dad poked around his apartment, running his fingers along the piano to check for dust. Tony cringed as he spoke to the maître d', mumbling his confirmation about the 19:00 reservation. It was painfully obvious that he did not spend a large amount of time in the apartment. He wished he could call Ziva and apologize for leaving the office so abruptly. He briefly considered texting her before his dad's voice interrupted his train of thought. Tony hung up the phone and turned around. His father was standing three feet away, looking him square in the eye, eyebrows raised. Tony knew that look.

"Huh?" he said innocently.

His father shook his head, "You're obviously not here very often, son."

Tony coughed into his hand and ushered his father toward the door, "yeah, well… demands of the job and all that," he said quickly. If he didn't hurry, they would run into his neighbor, Flora, who fed Kate when he wasn't around… which was fairly often since he had moved in with Ziva last year. The truth was, he hadn't crossed the threshold of his apartment in weeks. As he locked the door behind him, he thanked God that his dad hadn't opened the dresser drawers. He would have to prepare an excuse for why they were completely empty… laundry day? Dry cleaning? He was sure he'd think of something.

At 23:00, Ziva's phone buzzed in her pocket. Are you at home? Tony very rarely sent text messages—usually only when someone was in earshot of the conversation.

She texted a quick reply and tossed her phone onto the table. A little while later, the door of the pub opened to reveal Tony. He smiled when he saw her across the crowded bar and made his way toward her table. When he reached her, his smile faded as he noticed her companion at the table.

"McGee," he said, clearing his throat and loosening his tie, "what are you doing out this late? Isn't it McBedtime?"

McGee smirked. "Could be asking you the same question."

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Ziva laid a hand on his shoulder. "He knows," she said gently.

Tony shut his mouth. He looked at McGee's face and knew exactly what Ziva was talking about. For a moment, he was fearful that the whole operation of secrecy was about to be blown. In McGee's face, however, there was a look of understanding. "How long?" he asked, taking a sip of Ziva's beer.

"A while," they answered in unison.

Tony furrowed his brow. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

McGee shrugged, "I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."

"Does Gibbs know?" The thought tightened Tony's chest. He hated lying to his boss, but was afraid of the consequences of telling the truth.

McGee shrugged again, "maybe," he replied. "I don't think he'd object as much as you think." He took a drink of his appletini and leaned back against the back of the booth. "How'd it go with your dad?"

Tony sighed. "He turned in after dinner. I can't be gone long, though; the man is an insomniac. He'll be waking up anytime, rifling through drawers and playing the piano until all hours of the night. My neighbors will call the police, thinking someone broke in…"

"To play the piano?" Ziva asked.

"The place is empty except for my goldfish and that damn piano," Tony continued. "They'll probably think I was robbed and ask me to file a police report. I'll have to explain to the officers that I don't really live there and Gibbs will find out, through the grapevine, that I am breaking rule #12."

"Sounds logical," McGee said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, well… it was bound to happen eventually," Tony took another swig of Ziva's beer and hopped to his feet. "Thanks for the lovely evening, folks. I'm going to hurry home so my daddy doesn't find out I snuck out of the house." He started toward the door, making it halfway down the crowded aisle before turning back. His face pink, he leaned down and kissed Ziva on the lips, running his hand down the side of her face. He could feel McGee's stare as he nuzzled her nose. Opening his eyes, he leaned his forehead against hers. "Sorry," he breathed. "We'll talk tomorrow?"

She nodded, brown eyes giving him a look of understanding.

He stood up and regarded McGee once more. "Night, Tim," he said before turning again and heading toward the door. Inside, he felt a sense of calm rush over him. Tim was one person he didn't have to lie to anymore.

All of McGee's doubts were laid to rest as he watched the interaction between his two partners. The unexplainable force that had propelled them together wasn't just fleeting lust. He had carefully watched the two for any behavior change that would forever alter the team dynamics. In one brief moment, however, he realized that the professionalism hid a deeper truth: Tony and Ziva were in love.