Work Text:
The evening streets of Paris were quiet as Tony and Ziva stumbled onto the sidewalk from the quaint restaurant they had just eaten at. Well, drank at, more like it, as Ziva attempted to steady herself on her date, who was just barely more composed himself.
As they made their way down the street, their overlapping laughter filled the silent night—the quiet night that was suddenly growing darker. This wasn’t due to the sun setting but rather a storm cloud moving in. Before they had a moment to notice, a slight drizzle turned into a complete downpour.
Tony immediately stripped his jacket off and covered Ziva’s freshly straightened hair. He caught her mischievous gaze and locked eyes with her. She squinted at him and smirked. It was evident that she was in no hurry to seek shelter.
“Hey, Ziva, would you like to maybe find some sort of coverage?” He frowned as the large raindrops coated his intricately crafted Italian sport coat.
She shook her head and wobbled a bit on her heels. “No, I am fine here.” She outstretched her arms and smiled toward the expansive sky.
Tony huffed before replying, “Honey, that sport coat isn’t exactly waterproof and not exactly designed for extreme weather conditions.”
“You are too concerned with material things. Can we just enjoy this moment?” She walked toward him and set his jacket down on a nearby iron bench. Her hair began to frizz in the spots that weren’t weighted down entirely by the rain.
Tony couldn’t help but admire the rare, carefree abandon taking over her in her tipsy state. Over the last two years, he had seen an evolution of Ziva in so many ways. She had returned to him and Tali in a disheveled, worn-down, and defeated state. He had witnessed her face her challenges with therapy, work through her insecurities with motherhood, and find her place in his life—and heart. The only thing he didn’t see often was her fully letting go. He leaned back against the cold stone European wall and admired her.
“You are staring, Tony,” she said with a giggle, her eyes narrowing at him.
“So what if I am?” He smirked. “You look beautiful tonight.”
She scoffed playfully. “I am as wet as a duck.”
Tony showed a confused look on his face. Twelve years, and he was still occasionally surprised by her idiom mistakes. Then it clicked. “As wet as a dog, Zee.” He chuckled as he continued to watch her before getting an idea. He pushed himself off the only slightly covered building edge and walked up to her with determination. He lightly grabbed her hand and pulled her further into the street.
“Dance with me,” he said, charmingly.
She let out a breathy laugh, knowing she was in no state to turn him down. Also knowing there was not a world where she would. “You cannot be serious.”
“Oh, but I am. Haven’t you seen Singin’ in the Rain?”
She shook her head, which earned a shocked look from Tony.
“Come on! It’s a classic. Pure joy, and I, my dear, am ready to give you the full DiNozzo performance.” He dramatically bowed toward her and offered his hand.
Before she could protest, he was already twirling her around. Her soaked locks hit against her back as she spun in a circle. Ziva let out a squeal, her laughter the only thing cutting through the sound of the rain. Tony kept up his dance moves, swaying her clumsily on the deserted Parisian sidewalk. She found him to be half leading and half tripping over his own feet as the alcohol and rain-slicked pavement made him less than graceful.
“You are awful at this,” she teased, but she had no intention of pulling away.
“Ouch, that’s hurtful, Miss David. I prefer to think I am powered by spontaneous-ness.”
She corrected him quickly. “Spontaneity.”
“You can remember ‘spontaneity,’ but you get ‘wet dog’ wrong? Someone, make it make sense.” He looked around dramatically, only to have her hands come up to either side of his face. She leaned in and kissed him lightly, the rain continuing to streak down their faces.
After they pulled apart, her eyes panned back toward the rain-filled sky. They closed slowly as a calm smile crossed her face. Tony looked at her with awe, getting lost in the moment.
“You know,” Ziva started, “I have always liked the rain.”
Tony’s voice was soft in response. “Yeah?”
She nodded, head still tilted toward the sky. “It makes everything seem new. Washes away any mistakes or problems.” She curled her fingers around where they rested on his arms. “Almost like a reset, I suppose.”
He allowed a moment for her relaxation to continue, not wanting to break her calm state. “A fresh start,” he quipped.
“Exactly,” she replied, her eyes panning back to his face, brown locking with green.
For a moment, they stood there, rain falling all around them. Washing away their busy lives, cleansing any recent arguments over who took too long in the bathroom or didn’t pick up laundry from the floor. Possibly even cleaning beyond the recent moments.
Tony watched Ziva, lost in a memory from long ago. “Hey, I have an idea. You hungry?” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.
Ziva laughed with a small snort at the end. “Tony, I do understand the wine was the highlight of the night, but we did just eat dinner.”
“Turn me down if you must, but I was thinking pizza.” He glanced down the road toward a familiar pizzeria’s illuminated sign in the distance. He quickly grabbed his damp coat and started walking ahead of Ziva, hoping she would follow.
The rain slackened a bit as Ziva hurried up behind him, her heels clicking against the ground. “Hey, hey, wait a second,” she shouted. Tony slowed down ahead of her and turned around. Ziva kicked off her heels and held them in her hand, freely running up to meet him.
“Better?” he questioned, glancing down at her exposed feet.
“Much,” she said with an exaggerated sigh.
They walked together, steadier now, until they were met with the aroma of freshly settled rain and tomato sauce. Ziva still gripped his bent arm and leaned into his side.
As they approached the pizza shop and ducked inside, the shop worker shot them a questionable look as he boxed up their pepperoni pizza and handed it to Tony.
Ziva made her way over to the booth in the corner of the shop, the chill of the air conditioning causing goosebumps to rise on her arms.
Tony stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Oh, I don’t think so, Miss David. I hear it’s much better to eat pizza while leaned up against a building.”
She noticed a slight twinkle in his eye, and with a small smirk, she followed him outside. There, they looked out upon the dark street, the drizzle still lightly hitting the pavement. Tony opened up the box and shot her a knowing look.
“Remind you of anything?” he asked, his voice low.
She smiled as her memories brought her back to a similar instance some fifteen years ago. “You really think I do not remember?”
“How could you forget?” Tony’s voice was filled with nostalgia. “Although, maybe we could. It was a lifetime ago.”
Ziva shifted to a more serious note as she retrieved a slice from the open box in Tony’s arms. “That time in my life often feels like such a blur. So much changed, so many—”
She trailed off, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the pizza box. Tony waited, giving her space. Then she exhaled, a quiet chuckle escaping.
“Traumas.”
Tony looked over, assessing her demeanor. Looking to lighten her mood a bit, he joked, “Oh, therapy word. Bonus ten points for you.”
She remained serious. “It’s true, is it not?”
He gave up his facade. “Well, yeah. But I brought you out here to remind you of a good memory. The night I shared my pizza with you under the stars.”
Ziva rolled her eyes slightly. “It was raining, and you tried to throw the last slice away. I practically had to beg you for it.”
“Eh, details… details.” He grinned.
They clinked their coffee cups together.
“Toda,” she said.
“Prego,” he replied with a wink.