Finding Home - A Tiva one-shot; tag-ish to 10x24 “Damned If You Do”
Muted sounds of traffic from the main road floated into the picturesque street. Ziva inclined her head, taking in the gentle mid-morning sunlight and the sound of a glass door sliding open behind her.
“Ah, Paree,” Tony said gleefully, stepping out onto the balcony. “Well, we’ve been here once before, but—”
“You have been here once before, Tony.” She smiled as she swung around to meet his eyes. “I have been here more than twice.”
She lifted two fingers to illustrate, and he deflated. “Well, you’re a party pooper.”
She laughed and patted his chest in consolation. “Well, we are … unemployed now. We have time to explore, yes?” No more being given pressure to return immediately, she wanted to say, but she knew that the wounds were still too fresh for either of them.
Deep in her heart, she had to admit that she missed her job.
A warm hand rubbing her arm brought her attention back to him, and when she looked up at him, he said, “Paris, with you.” His green eyes were steady on hers. “I think that’s pretty much all the exploring I’ll need.”
She stared at him, her heart hammering in her throat at his unexpected honesty. He had simultaneously unnerved her and put her on guard; it was merely Tony, she knew, but while she trusted him to never hurt her, there was an unwritten rule that they never spoke about their feelings.
Had the status quo changed now that they were there outside their jobs?
The light in his eyes dimmed, and then he was casting his gaze downwards. He cleared his throat and asked, “So, the Louvre first?”
She nodded and he put on his best I-haven’t-a-care-in-the-world grin, and suddenly she found herself wishing she’d been just as unexpectedly honest with him as he’d been with her.
It’s funny because when she first met Tony she never looked at him like he was the one she would love one day, that one day he would be the one man who meant more than anything to her.
I literally can’t believe this is it! A special thanks to Zay (girlwiththefeels) for proofreading an early chapter and giving me advice that helped with the rest of the story. Also, thanks Carrie (israelifemmefatale) and Megan (probalicious) for proofreading a chapter when I was a little iffy about some stuff. Also, a big thank you to Anne (fivefeetofme) for becoming my proofreader up until about four chapters ago.
Finally, thank you to every single person who read, reviewed, favorited, liked, reblogged, or whatever-ed this story. The support and positive feedback meant the world to me. You guys are the absolute best. I also have another story idea that I’m currently writing (it will be called Journey- post Somalia fic) and I’m super excited to start posting chapters of it and see what you guys think. Now, without further ado, here is about 1000 words of fluffy epilogue. Stay golden. I love you all more than words can say.
Ziva cannot help but smile to herself, because Tony already makes her so happy and she knows this is only just the beginning.
You want no part of this.
Your intention in coming to NCIS was to get away from Mossad, not to find something else. Love has never been high on your list of priorities; you are too grounded in reality to entertain childish, quixotic notions of happily ever after. If such a thing exists at all, it is not for people like you. People like you must be alone. It is a necessity.
So it is very ugly, very unwanted, the first time you look at Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. and feel a pang in your belly because he is off-limits. This is not only due to the restraints you place on yourself. He has a girlfriend. And you can tell— you can— that he is in love with her. Even though he will not share her name. Even though he won’t admit that he is seeing anyone at all.
You just know.
Really, honestly, you have grown to care about him, this cocky, obnoxious partner of yours, and not— well, not only— in a lustful way. You have developed a bond with him, a bond unlike anything else you’ve experienced. Never before have you been so quick to trust someone so blindly. There was a time when you were suspicious of Gibbs and Abby and even McGee, but Tony… no. Not since the night he followed you to that hotel. It is not rational, and you are aware of this. And yet, for once in your life, common sense does not matter.
Only at night, alone in your apartment, do you let yourself fantasize. If he were not in love with some other, more deserving woman, perhaps he would see you differently. Perhaps your harmless flirting would become something with substance. Perhaps your partnership— a case of “we are willing to die for each other out of duty”— would morph into a relationship. Perhaps you would make love for real, and as a result of desire. A pure motive. Nothing to do with ops.
And then, in the middle of these thoughts, you usually stop yourself and marvel at your phrasing. Make love. It has always been sex to you before; why, suddenly, are you putting emotion into the act?
You’ve been taught that emotions can be dangerous, and the more time you spend around Tony, the more you agree.
The warm summer breeze blew around Tony and Ziva as they strolled through the park. After a dinner with McGee and Abby, they figured a walk during the sunset wouldn’t do any harm.
Ziva’s arms were linked through Tony’s arm as they made they way through the endless rows of flowers and trees. The air was sweet and the sky started to fade into shades of pinks and blues.
It seemed like a whirlwind happened between the two as of late. It took years upon years for them to admit how they truly felt about each other, but when it came to physically expressing their want for the other, it couldn’t have been easier.
For Ziva, being with Tony gave her hope that love really does exist. After one failed attempt at a relationship followed by another, it filled Ziva with warmth knowing that her spell of unhappiness had finally been broken.
She smiled to herself and attempted to stifle a giggle. Tony, hearing her muffled laugh, looked down to a rosy-cheeked Ziva smiling back at him. Even if Tony didn’t know what was going on inside that Israeli mind of hers, it didn’t stop him from grinning at her excitement.
“Care to share what’s so funny, mon Ziva?” Tony lightly nudged Ziva’s arm. His curiosity always got the best of him. He refused to break eye contact until he had an answer. If it came down to it, he wasn’t afraid to use his ticklish tactics, even if it meant receiving a punch in the arm. It was usually worth it.
Sequel - A Tiva one-shot; tag to 10x24 “Damned If You Do.”
The first time he joins her on her daily run, she is surprised. It’s been almost a week since the team quit; she hasn’t spoken to him and he hasn’t spoken to her, and she’s been expecting that it’ll stay that way because, after all, haven’t they always been that way?
He just smiles at her, though. Says, “I miss you.”
She’s okay with that.
He doesn’t show up the next morning or the morning after next.
She’s accepted by the third morning that it had just been an anomaly in their routine of uneventulness, the one time he jogged with her, so she’s—again—surprised when he shows up a full seven days after that first time.
“Is this a weekly thing now?” she asks him, and his answering smile strikes her as a tiny bit shy.
“If you don’t mind.”
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Tag to 10x24
This one is longer, but not long enough for me to feel I should post it on FF unless I’m told otherwise.
Tony DiNozzo doesn’t think the resigned life will be that terrible.
He assumes it will be a life of ease. There won’t be cases or long nights and weekends. He thinks that everything will work out fine without any added stress. No rules, no cases, no problems.
He doesn’t think he’ll wind up missing it.
Just a little drabble in honor of the day. Happy Mother’s day to all the mothers out there in this fandom, especially thedinozzos and americanidioms. I know there are many of you, and I speak to so few closely. Thank you for all you do.
She wakes to soft, gentle kisses brushing across her bare shoulder.
A sleepy smile spreads across her face as she slowly begins to wake. Though she’s never been one to respond favorably to being woken, when it comes to him she will always be willing to make an exception. His mouth continues it’s exploration along her shoulders, her neck, her back - and the delicate touches, along with the warm sun she feels streaming through their window - raise goosebumps across her exposed skin.
She feels her partner’s smile as he continues to press against the expanse of her skin with his lips.
“Buongiorno,” He mumbles between kisses, and she hums in satisfaction as his hand drifts down her side, still not fully awake enough to form coherent sentences. It does not perturb her partner in the very least. As his hand comes to rest across her stomach, she moves her own to cover his, intertwining their fingers together. She allows herself a few more moments of indulgence before finally rolling over to face him properly.
She blinks owlishly as her eyes adjust to the sunlit room, and her partner smiles at her affectionately.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” He murmurs, and she scrunches her face in adorable irritation, fixing him with a glare.
“I did not get much sleep last night with your daughter in our bed.” She assigns him sole accountability of their daughter whenever her behavior is less than favorable, and it never fails to make him roll his eyes.
Whether she’d admit to it or not, their daughter was her in miniature, ninja form.
Past arguments, however, remind him maintaining this fact is a futile effort. And unwilling to argue with her, today of all days, he apologizes and accepts full responsibility for their daughters restless sleeping.
“Next time I’ll take her back to her bed once she’s fallen asleep,” he murmurs, trailing his hands down to her hips to pull her closer. She laughs as the charm in his voice increases and he lets his eyes travel over her body. “Then we can wake up like this more mornings.”
He leans forward to kiss her slowly, unrushed, and Ziva allows herself to kiss him back indulgently for several minutes. Rarely do they get mornings like this to themselves anymore, and they’ll each take advantage of whatever time they can get. Just as it begins to escalate, she breaks apart from his mouth, knowing that allowing things to continue farther wouldn’t be wise.
She rests her head back on the pillow, watching him as she sees the lust slowly abate from his eyes. She smirks unapologetically.
“You know we can’t,” Ziva chastises, and addresses the question that she’s been wondering since she awoke. “Is she still sleeping?”
Tony toys with a stray curl , a secret smile turning up at the corners of his mouth.
“No,” he tells her conspiratorially, eyes still on her curls as he gathers more in his hand. “I’m supposed to be distracting you.” Her eyebrows narrow in question, and his other hand squeezes her hip playfully. “She’s working on your surprise with Gibbs.”
Ziva blanks, and Tony laughs at her confusion. Shifting closer while wrapping his hand into her hair, he leans over to press a soft kiss to her forehead.
“It’s Mother’s Day, Ziva, remember? She wants it to be a surprise.”
Bewilderment settles across her features as emotion floods her face, and he chuckles adoringly at how innocent she is of the day, even after three years of celebrating it. He knows that it’s still all very new for her, and how long she battled with the idea of feeling worthy enough to be amother. Each year she has to be reminded that they celebrate a day dedicated to her entirely.
It’s one of the few times he’s ever seen his partner cry.
She tears up now, and he laughs as he wipes at the tears that begin to fall. Ziva imitates him, chuckling at herself for getting so emotional.
She never imagined this life for herself. Her world had grown so much since she had arrived in America. Even more so since finally committing to her partner; in work and in life. For so long, their world had encompassed only each other. She’d never known just how much more it could grow to contain another.
She’d thought that the biggest gamble, the biggest risk, that she would ever make was finally allowing herself to have Tony completely. And that no other reward could be greater than him.
How very wrong she was.
Voices from somewhere within their home begin to drift toward their bedroom, reminding them they were not alone. Tony presses one last kiss to her lips before untangling himself from her and the sheets. She watches him as he leaves the bed, and he turns to her after he’s found a shirt to pull over his head.
“Sounds like they are done with your surprise,” He tells her, and his head pops through his shirt, leaving his hair standing in all directions. She smiles at him affectionately, and takes the hand he extends toward her, pulling her out of the bed.
She allows him to tug her along toward their door, and they’ve barely made it down the hall when their daughter appears, running towards them with Gibbs at her heels.
Ziva lets go of Tony’s hand as soon as their daughter runs toward her, holding up one of her favorite types of roses.
She bends down to meet her, and the little girl’s grin stretches wide as she greets her mother; her chest rising and falling from exertion.
“Happy Mother’s Day, momma.” She says sweetly, and sniffs the flower before holding it out to her. “Dis your favorite, ken?” She looks between Gibbs and her father for confirmation, and her gaze return to her mother, eying Ziva hesitantly.
Ziva laughs, accepting the flower and pulling her into a tight hug.
“Ken, it is beautiful, tatehleh. Toda.”
The two men exchange easy smiles, and the little girl pulls away, animated and bursting with excitement.
“Dere’s more, momma!” She chirps, and grasps hold of Ziva’s fingers to pull her down the hall. Ziva follows obediently, looking behind her at Tony and Gibbs questioningly. Gibbs merely smiles, his face unreadable, and Tony’s grinning wide.
They travel further down the hall, into the main area of the house that leads them to the backyard. The little girl lets go of her hand when she’s in sight of the back door, and runs to reach it first. Grasping the handle, she turns to look at the adults over her shoulder with a stern expression.
“No peeking, momma.” She says seriously, and Ziva nods her head in obedience.
“Don’t worry, princess, Daddy’s watching her.” Tony appears next to her, and puffs out his chest importantly. The little girl nods to her father appreciatively, then finally opens the door to lead them outside.
She once again grasps Ziva’s hand when they’ve stepped outside, and directs her attention to a small section in the yard. What used to be a bare, grassy, area, was now a colorful assortment of flowers, divided artfully into sections of stained, wooden boxes. There were a handfuls of different types of flowers; from the golden-red rose she held in her hand, to several flowers she recognized immediately to be native to Israel. The woodwork was clearly Gibbs handiwork, and she could make out several batches of flowers that were so brightly colorful, she knew they had to have been picked out by no one but the little girl herself.
Ziva feels tears begin to prick the back of her eyes, and she senses Tony move closer to her, settling a warm hand on her shoulder.
Oblivious to her mother’s reaction, she bounds forward to crouch in front of the flowers, trying to rattle off the names of the ones she could remember.
“… And grampa said you liked dese flowers, cuz they’re from your other home. And Aun’ Abby help me find the pretty pink ones, see?” She turns around to finally look at her mother, pointing toward the flowers expectantly.
Swiping at her eyes, Ziva meets her gaze and nods with enthusiasm.
“These are so beautiful, tatehleh,” She gushes, and the little girl grins proudly, wandering back over to embrace her. Ziva crouches down, opening her arms out to her.
“Gampa helped me so we can have flowers for you everyday, momma.” She explains, wrapping her arms around Ziva’s neck. Ziva pulls her in for another tight hug, bringing her up as she stands, and settles her easily against her hip.
“Toda,” She whispers again against her daughters curls, pressing a kiss to her head. Ziva then looks towards Gibbs, and he gives her one of his rare, open smiles.
Moving toward them, he grasps Ziva in a tight, one armed hug.
“Didn’t do much,” He says easily, “Just followed her orders.” He winks at the little girl, and she giggles in response.
“It’s momma’s special day,” She reasoned, and pats Ziva’s cheek affectionately.
Ziva gazes at her with a watery smile, then turns her attention to Gibbs.
“Toda, Gibbs.” She says thickly, and he only shakes his head in response. Pulling her closer with the one arm still wrapped around her, he speaks lowly.
“You deserve it, Ziver. You’re a damn good mother. Never doubt that.” Gibbs presses a kiss to the side of her head, and her eyes fill with tears again. She looks between all three of them, and wonders what she did, exactly, to deserve the love that surrounds her today.
If there’s one thing she will forever be thankful for, it’s the gift of being a mother.
Another post-Double Blind fic. I haven’t read much about what others are thinking re: Ziva’s motivation, so maybe this take on it is old news. But I hope it adds something to the conversation anyway.
Tag to 10x23. Spoilers.
The night is almost irritating in its warmth. Tony scowls and presses his hand harder against the metal of the hood of Ziva’s car. Warm weather is supposed to be happy and calming and peaceful, and right now, that is not a reflection of his life. Its very presence almost feels like the universe is taunting him, rubbing in his face that most people’s lives are not this complicated all the time. Then again, this makes him think that the characteristics associated with warm weather are very seldom reflections of his life.
He feels guilty, almost, being the first one out of he, McGee and Ziva to leave the office, especially when Gibbs, of all people, is in so much hot water. But of course, when they are the ones being investigated, instead of doing the investigating themselves, there is little to occupy the agents’ hands. At least, little that is entirely following protocol.
But, more importantly, he knows two things for sure after all these years working with Gibbs: number one, he can look after himself. And the second is that when in doubt, his rule book is a good thing to consult.
Rule Eleven comes to mind: when the job is done, walk away.