Friday Night Double Feature

[rebecca_in_blue]

Chapter One

Friday night finds Ziva alone in her new apartment, her living room a mess – books and papers scattered everywhere. Maybe she's studying too hard for her citizenship test, trying to learn everything at once, but lately, she's been throwing herself into it every night. She's so grateful to have something to occupy her spare time. Ever since she returned to DC, she's tried to avoid being alone with her thoughts, because whenever that happens, her thoughts take her back to places she'd rather forget...

It makes Ziva smile to think that not long ago, spending a Friday night at home alone would've bored her out of her mind. But now, she's perfectly content with it. Her studies are far from boring; she had started the evening by researching America's first presidential elections on her computer, and somehow, she's now reading that George Washington wore ivory dentures partly because years of cracking walnut shells in his mouth ruined his teeth.

Morbidly curious, Ziva's about to click on a link to see a photo of Washington's dentures on display in some museum when an e-mail alert pops up. She goes to her inbox; it's from McGee.

Z – Hey, I know you've been studying hard for your citizenship test, and I thought you might appreciate these videos. When I was a kid, they taught me everything I knew about American history and government. But don't tell Tony that! – McG

Ziva follows the link, and assumes that McGee must have sent her the wrong video, because she finds herself watching a cartoon. She's about to close the window when the cartoon people start dancing and singing, and their song is the Preamble to the Constitution, word for word. Ziva watches, fascinated, and from there finds similar videos about the American Revolution and how a bill becomes a law. Apparently it's something called Schoolhouse Rock, and Ziva's taking notes from the song about the three branches of government when her cell phone rings.

She rummages around her living room for it, lifting up books and papers, and finally finds it under A People's History of the United States (a gift from Ducky). She looks at the caller ID – it's Tony – and flips it open.

“Shalom?” she answers.

“Good evening, Zee-vah,” comes Tony's voice, almost in a singsong. Ziva can't remember the last time he sounded so pleased. “I have the best news. Listen, are you at home? Do you have a newspaper handy?”

“Yes, I think so,” Ziva answers after a pause, trying to think why Tony could be so happy. “Why?”

“Read your newspaper, you'll see why,” Tony urges. “Look at the entertainment section, page... uh, let's see... page two. We have to do this tonight, Ziva. You don't have any plans, do you? Because you have to come see this with me.”

Ziva casts around, looking for the paper she bought on her way home from work that day. She finds it on the floor beside the coffee table and flips the entertainment section to page two. Then she blinks in confusion, because she never thought Tony would want to see what's advertised on that page.

“We have to see Taylor Swift in concert? I did not know you were a fan of – ”

“No, Ziva,” Tony interrupts impatiently, and she can practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Not the Taylor Swift concert. Look below the fold.”

Ziva flips the folded newspaper page over, and suddenly it all makes sense. Of course, she thinks with a smile, as she reads the ad for a vintage movie theater that's just opened. She's never heard of such a thing, but it's not hard to figure out, especially given how excited Tony is.

“It's a vintage – movie – theater,” says Tony, emphasizing each word with a sort of reverence. “Do you realize what this means? They show classic movies on the big screen! Do you know how long I've been trying to find one of these? Look, it's Friday, they're having a '70s night. We could see The Exorcist or... hey, have you ever seen The Godfather? 'Cause it's an offer you can't refuse.”

The idea is tempting, but Ziva can't find it in her to accept. She's not ready to go to the movies with Tony, as though nothing had happened between them. “Tony, there must someone else you can call – ”

“No, there's no one else, Ziva! Abby's gone bowling with nuns, Ducky's visiting his mother, Gibbs is hacking away at another boat, and McGoo is busy turning everyone's personal lives into thinly-veiled fiction.”

Ziva is taken aback by that. How does Tony know what every other member of the team is doing tonight? Did he really call all of them before her? Was she only his last resort if nobody else could go with him? But no, surely that can't be the case. Ziva almost laughs at the thought of Tony asking Gibbs to go to the movies with him. “Hey, Boss, you busy? 'Cause if you're doing anything tonight, I thought maybe...”

Thinking of Gibbs, Ziva finds another reason to say no. “What about Rule Twelve, Tony?” she asks. “Never d – ”

“Don't say that word!” Tony quickly shouts over the phone. “See, I've already about that, Ziva, and it's very simple. As long as neither of us actually says the word” – he drops his voice – “date, then this isn't a date, and we're not breaking Rule Twelve.”

Ziva hesitates, searching for another reason to decline Tony's invitation, but the urge is growing to just give in, just say yes.

“Oh, come on, Ziva,” Tony pleads, as if he can sense her ebbing reluctance. “Don't make me call Palmer or Vance. Because I don't even know which of those two I would less like to see a movie with.”

Ziva has to laugh at that – laugh and wonder why she tries to resist Tony at all. She looks at the ad in the paper and tries one last protest: “I do not even know where this place is.”

“I'll pick you up!” Tony answers immediately. “I'm leaving for your place right now, so be ready in ten, okay?”

In the car on their way to the theater, Ziva reads over the movie listings again. When she suggests they see Chinatown, Tony shakes his head.

“Nah, we should see something you haven't seen before,” he tells her.

“Well, I have never seen Chinatown,” Ziva shrugs.

She wishes she had a camera to capture the disbelief on Tony's face. “What? You've never seen it? Chinatown, the greatest classic of the film noir genre? Are you sure, Ziva? 'Cause I could swear you said once that – oh, never mind. Don't worry, I'll rectify this.”

“And I will even let you do your Jack,” Ziva smiles. She regrets it as soon as the words are out of her mouth.

Tony says nothing, but Ziva sees his hands tense on the steering wheel, and she remembers the last time she said those same words to him. They were in the same positions, Tony behind the wheel, Ziva in the seat beside him. The sun was warm on their faces, the wind in their hair, and Tony looked at her and smiled as they sat in LA traffic. So much has happened since then, it feels like a lifetime ago. Before they lost Director Shepard. Before Rivkin. Before Somalia. Ziva looks at Tony now in the dark, chilly DC night and can't help but wonder, sadly, if things will ever be that way – that free and easy and simple – between them again.

_____


Chapter Two

They're about thirty minutes into Chinatown when Tony begins shifting uncomfortably in his seat, resisting the urge to head-slap himself. Of all the movies he had to pick from, he may have picked the worst possible one. He wants to crack some joke or make a sarcastic comment to lighten the mood, but for once his wit fails him. Even in the darkness of the theater, he can't help but notice Ziva stiffen in the seat beside him, as the drama unfolds onscreen.

When they come out of the theater, Tony's caught off-guard by the night – so solid and black and heavy. He had forgotten how much earlier it gets dark now, since the clocks were moved back an hour for the fall. It's gotten chilly too, and Ziva pulls her coat tightly around her as they go down the theater steps.

"Well, what did you think?" Tony finally asks her. Her silence worries him. Ziva is choosing her words too carefully.

"Well... it was not what I expected," she finally says. "It was very sad."

He waits for her to go on, but she doesn't, and he feels disappointed. One of the greatest classics of American film, and all she can say is that it's sad?

"Ziva, it wasn't – well, okay, the ending was sad, but..."

"Tragic," Ziva puts in.

"...but you can't just focus on the ending. What about the rest of it? There were some funny moments in it, and it was so smart. All those twists and turns in the story, it was like a case we would solve. Hey, that makes me Jake." He grins at her and says in his best Jack Nicholson voice, "I said I want the truth!"

Ziva laughs a little at that, but she doesn't smile, and Tony can tell that her laughter is fake, forced. "I hope not," she says, shaking her head. She drops her voice and goes on, "Jake was a good investigator, but... he and Evelyn were supposed to be partners. And all they did was hurt each other."

Tony bites the inside of his cheek, considering Ziva's words. They're walking across the theater parking lot to his car in the chilly night air, through the spotlights of the street lamps and the patches of darkness in between. And he gets the feeling that Ziva isn't really talking about Jake and Evelyn.

"It was all Evelyn's fault," she goes on quickly. "She should have told Jake everything, right from the beginning, but she kept too much from him. She did not tell him the truth until it was too late, and that is why she ended up the way she did."

Tony looks hard at her, but they're between streetlights, and it's too dark to make out the expression on her face. He's not sure why, but it bothers him that Ziva isn't more sympathetic to Evelyn. He remembers what she said when he found her still alive – barely – in Somalia and realized what she had been through. "It is justified." The sudden chill in his bones has nothing to do with the cold night air.

"Well, it was Jake's fault as much as hers," he answers softly. He shrugs as he says it, trying to keep the conversation light. "Evelyn was trying to protect him, that's why she didn't tell him everything. And when she finally did, he didn't even believe her."

"Only at first he didn't," Ziva puts in, in Jake's defense.

"It doesn't matter," Tony shakes his head. "It was all his fault. Evelyn tried to warn him about what a sicko her father was, remember? But he didn't listen to her." As he says it, it occurs to him that it Jake isn't to blame so much as Evelyn's father. He had manipulated Jake and Evelyn's feelings for each other to his own ends. What a scumbag, Tony thinks bitterly.

Ziva has to nod in agreement at his words. She tries to block it out, but Evelyn's line to Jake about her father replays over and over in her mind. "My father is a very dangerous man. You don't know how dangerous. You don't know how crazy." The idea that her own father had used her as a... Suddenly, Ziva can't push away the clammy feeling creeping over her skin, and she shudders, just slightly. She thinks Tony doesn't notice until, just as slightly, he draws closer to her.

"Still, Evelyn should have trusted him," Ziva insists, her voice thick.

"No, Jake should've listened to her," and Tony's surprised to feel his stomach growing hot with anger. He remembers the first time he saw Chinatown, back when he was working as a cop. He had thought Jake was such a brilliant detective then. And now, his opinion of him has sunk so low, he's sure that if Gibbs ever met Jake, he wouldn't even bother wasting a head-slap on him. "He should have had her back."

They reach Tony's car, but neither one of them gets in. They just stand there on either side of it, all the unspoken words hanging in the chilly air between them, like the patches of darkness between the streetlights. Tony can't stop thinking about how it ended for Evelyn and Jake – her dead, murdered, and him living the rest of his life with the guilt of knowing that he had failed her, that he hadn't protected her from her father. He can't stop thinking about how it almost ended that way for Ziva and him, and the thought terrifies him. He doesn't know when anything has ever scared him so much. His skin starts to grow clammy...

Tony looks across the hood of his car to Ziva. Is she thinking the same thing? No, he can tell from her face that her thoughts are different, worse. She's gone to a much darker place. No, he can't let her go back there. And he can't possibly let their evening end like this. He mentally head-slaps himself. What was he thinking, showing her Chinatown?

"You know, Ziva, it's still pretty early," he says quickly. Ziva looks at him, her face full of sweet relief. She's so grateful that he's broken the silence and called her back from where her thoughts were taking her. He pretends not to notice as he jerks his head towards the clock outside the bank across the street. "Look, it's not even nine-thirty. We could always head back in, make this a double feature."

He turns around, back towards the theater, and reads the list of movie showings on the sign outside the building, desperately searching for a comedy, something that will alleviate the heavy silences, the clammy feeling on his skin. Thankfully, he finds just what he's looking for. "Hey, there's a showing of Paper Moon that starts in ten minutes," he says, pointing. "You ever seen Paper Moon?"

Ziva shakes her head. "No, I do not know that one. What is it about?"

"Well," Tony winces, as if in terrible pain. "I can't believe I'm actually using this word to describe a movie I like, but Paper Moon is... cute." It's the perfect antidote to seeing Chinatown, he adds to himself.

Ziva chuckles. "That sounds perfect." So they turn around and walk back across the dark, cold parking lot, back into the warmth and light of the theater. They buy more popcorn – Ziva's full, but Tony insists – and watch another movie about two partners, Moses and Addie, who who grow closer for everything they go through, whose story ends happily.

The second time Tony and Ziva come out of the theater, they're both smiling, and Tony is explaining how the two of them are just like Moses and Addie.

"Because Moses was a suave guy, and Addie was a lot more dangerous than she looked, and together they made the perfect team. See?"

Ziva laughs – a real laugh this time, Tony can tell. "Yes, Tony," she agrees, "that is us in a nuthouse."

Tony sighs and rolls his eyes in mock exasperation. "It's nutshell, Ziva," he corrects, smiling at her. "But you're right, that's us in a nutshell. We make the perfect team."

This time, as they cross the parking lot, Ziva can't suppress the smile on her face as she watches Tony walk with so much spring in his step, all the way back to the car. Almost in unison, the same thought occurs to both of them: There might just be hope for us yet.

The End
_____

P.S. If anyone is at all interested in more of my writing, my FF.net profile is here. My best fic so far is probably Hell and High Water, but it's a bit too long to post to LiveJournal. It's equal parts Tiva and friendship!Abby/Ziva.

 ***

Comments

[rainbowjumpsuit.livejournal.com]

Awe, this was lovely. Thanks for sharing!

[rebecca-in-blue.livejournal.com]

Thanks for commenting!

[yahalomay.livejournal.com]

Wow! This was great. Even though I haven't seen the movies mentioned, I still was really engaged. The interaction between Ziva and Tony was great, and you have an excellent grasp on Tony's 'voice'. I adore this! :)

[rebecca-in-blue.livejournal.com]

you have an excellent grasp on Tony's 'voice.' Thank you! I find Tony a very challenging character to write.

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