Rating: K+
Words: 943
Summary: Set directly after the warehouse scene. Mainly thoughts about everything.

Radiation poisoning meets metaphor

*****

Radiation poisoning. Radiation poisoning was bad. Really bad. Ziva thought so. In her mind Radiation let people think about their death. It let people think about other people’s death. It let people think about a specific person’s almost death. And that was the problem with radiation poisoning. That was the problem with bombs. That was the problem with everything that could kill people.

Come on, Ziva. His sentence echoed in her mind. Like a little man whispering it into her ear again and again.

Tony. He always dizzied her mind. On purpose or not. He did it. Saleem wasn’t her favourite topic to talk about. Forget him. Forget the time in Somalia. That was her plan. That was the only important thing. Tony knew she didn’t want to talk about him. But he still started off with it. Maybe he just wanted to comfort her. She didn’t know why he talked about it. It didn’t matter. Tony didn’t know everything. Tony didn’t know everything, because Ziva hadn’t told him everything. And she wasn’t planning to change this fact. Everything should stay the same. Even if that meant, they would never get away from the state they were now. A non-couple with great eye-sex. Even if that meant they would always stay in the Men’s room and pretending not to be what they already were. More than partners. More than friends. Lovers; this word was a fitting term.

Come on, Ziva. He repeated his words over and over in his head. Unhearable for everyone.

Ziva. She was so… denying. She thought he hadn’t noticed. But he had. Tony observed every move she made. Listened to every word she said. She would never become like him. Nothing she did would make her like him. There was more chance the world would break down in the next few minutes. But she was also right. What Saleem did was worse. And Tony got his vengeance. For her. Like a little boy on the play ground he had wished everything bad at him. Like a little boy he had defended his woman. But they weren’t on play ground anymore. Somalia was no play ground. Although there had been a lot of sand. He had to be honest to himself. They were both denying. Denying, what both of them wanted. Anything compared to a relationship. Anything similar to a relationship. Because they knew they wouldn’t ever have a normal relationship.

They stood in front of the car and they both wanted to say something. Say anything. Breaking the very uncomfortable silence. Saying what needed to be said. They needed to say so much. But they couldn’t talk to each other. It was like they were on different sides of the room and not able to be together. Just able to shout at the other end and misunderstanding each other. There were metaphors for it, uncountable amounts of metaphors. And that was one problem. They always talked in metaphors. No clear sentences. No clear words.

“Let’s go.” Ziva said. She waved her hair back over her shoulders. Her hands reached down to open the car door, but Tony’s glances let her hesitate. Just for a split second. Enough to stop her. His look was fascinated by something she couldn’t see.
“Yeah, I’m on my way.” His thoughts seemed to be miles away. The way he looked at her made Ziva feeling better. Tony felt so too. Her warm eyes and her playful smile made him smile. The way she put her hair out of her face was beautiful.
“Can I drive?” she asked impatiently. The playful smile was back again on her pretty face.
“Not when I’m in there. I want to stay alive.” He didn’t want to share his hidden secret behind this sentence with her. Because I want to kiss you again. She still smiled and let him get into the car. But he didn’t open the door.
“Do you want to put down roots here?” Ziva tapped on the car top and waited for him to drive. She was sure she had got this idiom right.
“Why don’t you want to talk about it? What happened that you can’t say a word?” His question was asked honestly. Ziva couldn’t look into his eyes and the smile disappeared Tony’s look was piercing. Prolonging an answer wouldn’t change anything.
“Please, stop talking about it. I want to live. And I can’t forget when you remind me. I can’t forget when you expect anything. I’ll tell you. One day. But not now.” That was probably the truest answer she had given Tony about Somalia. He nodded. He understood her reasons.
“One day? Scout’s honor?” he asked humorous and tried to make her smile.
“Scout’s honor. I promise. And now get into this car. Gibbs’s is going to kill us.” Ziva shook her head and was impressed by Tony, as always. He was the first person she had ever met, who seemed not to grow up. And then they finally managed to sit into the car.

Come on, Ziva. Words; chosen carefully by someone who wanted to help. Chosen by Tony who wanted to be a hero for Ziva. Her hero. The hero who saved out of hell. The hero who was at her side in the darkest moments of her life.

Radiation poisoning. Radiation poisoning was able to help blind lovers to talk. Radiation poisoning could make them see how much they cared. Radiation poisoning was there for a reason. But it couldn’t manage to let them know that they loved each other more than they could even imagine. Radiation poisoning was good. In some way. As a metaphor. But it still couldn’t stop them from running on the same street into different directions.

A/N: Please tell me what you think about it. First I didn't plan it to be that long, but then I wrote and wrote and... I hope you like it.