NCIS: Best Shots

Chapter Seventeen: The Night Will Only Know

That night will live forever

Their first time to lie together

They were finally where desire dared them to go

Both belonging to another

But longing to be lovers

Promising each other that the night will only know

Tony drove to Ziva's apartment. It was risky to see her, but he had to. He wanted to explain how he felt about her. He was sure she felt the same way. Tony didn't care that she was seeing someone else, like he was; he couldn't stay away from her. That time they went undercover—literally and figuratively—as that assassin couple was only the beginning. Then she had asked him if he had ever heard of soul mates. He had said something like, Oh, yeah. Aren't they a rock band? Ziva had said, You'll never understand all disappointed. Lost in thought, he stopped as he realized he had already knocked on the door and Ziva was looking at him expectantly.

"What do you want, Tony?"

"I want to talk to you."

She stepped back, inviting him in. Tony shook his head. "Not here. He's been here."

"Well, where do you want to talk, then?" Ziva asked, tilting her head and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Come with me," he invited, "and I'll tell you."

She relented. "All right."

Was that a triumphant smile on his face? Ziva wondered as Tony broke into a large grin. She didn't have long to think about it, as Tony had turned and headed out to his car. Ziva followed him and was hit by a blast of freezing night air. She quickly climbed in the passenger's seat while Tony started the engine. Soon, they were tearing down the streets of D.C.

When Tony had been driving for a good half hour, he slowed and turned onto an old backstreet. Three-quarters of the way in, he stopped and parked the car. The seat belt slid upward as he unhooked it and crept into the backseat. Feeling a little creeped out, Ziva followed him, even though a voice in her head was telling her not to.

"Tony, what are we doing here?" Ziva was starting to get a little nervous. He had never done anything like this with her before.

Parked on some old backstreet

They laid down in the backseat

And fell into the fire down below

But they would pay for their deceiving

For a deadly web was weaving

Why they picked that spot that evening

Lord, the night will only know

"Ziva, do you feel the same way about me that I do about you?"

Ziva swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"

"Don't you feel it? This pull between us?"

Pull? Does he mean this feeling I have whenever I'm around him? Then a dream she had had about a week ago came back to her. In the dream, she had been standing in her room with Rivkin, her former Mossad partner. She had been wrapped in his embrace, then she felt him change. When she looked at him, she had been in Tony's arms. Tony lowered his mouth to hers. Ziva had found herself pressing against him, returning his kiss, yearning for his touch. . . . When she woke up, she found herself longing for another one of his kisses, his touches, even though it had only been a dream.

Ziva shifted uncomfortably with the memory of the dream. Obviously, her subconscious had thought about kissing him. It had only gotten stronger since that time they had gone undercover as the assassin couple a few months back, and when she had had that talk with that African-American woman about soul mates. She had said that when you meet your soul mate, you just know. When Ziva asked Tony about that, he had said something like, Aren't they a rock band? Ziva had been disappointed.