Change of Heart
Ziva David never believed that there would ever be more than herself in her life. She never believed in her father; she never believed in Michael; and when it came down to it, she never believed in Ray, either. That ship had sailed, and though she'd purchased the boarding pass, she'd never gotten onto the ship. Ziva David never called herself lonely; but she was alone.
But not tonight. Tonight Ziva had been assigned stakeout duty, but more importantly, she had a partner. "Blowing on your coffee through that little tiny hole is not going to make it cool any faster, Tony."
Tony stared her down sarcastically, drawing his attention away from the green woman on the portable cup to the disapproving one next to him in the passenger's seat. Apprehensively, he took one slow, cautious sip, testing himself, raising the cup on an angle degree by degree. Immediately he recoiled. Like a petulant child, his intense and very much accusatory gaze shifted back again to the culprit cup.
"Patience is a virgin, Tony."
Tony smiled into the deep charcoal mirrors of night-lit glass. "Virtue, Zee-vah. Patience is a virtue."
"That too." Never one to back out from a fight, Ziva pretended to actively continue routinely checking the house outside of which Tony had parked the car. It was her turn to drive, and she had been pretty adamant, but Tony, supported by a meek but passionate McGee, had convinced her to step down on this one. In their tangled mumblings, she picked out something about "wanting to be inconspicuous, rather than starting World War Three with a parking attendant over incredibly dubious parallel parking." In Israel, you just parked. However in America, apparently the surrounding cars actually had to be drivable after the ordeal.
The two partners had been sitting, the very embodiments of vigilance, for the past two-and-a-half hours with absolutely no avail. Ziva sighed, frustrated.
"Oh patient one, not so virtuous now, are we?" Tony teased, but his expression echoed the trigger of her outburst.
"It has been hours, quite literally. It is long past midnight; and the place is deserted. I do not think that Ackerman is going to spend the night at his house." Ziva finished at a loud a volume and Tony scrunched up his face in resigned agreement. "But," she continued, binoculars held close to her face, "I have spoken too soon."
Tony took his binoculars and located the place where she was watching. Two silhouettes, one considerably larger than the other, stood before the ambivalent light of the crescent moon. They stumbled drunkenly down the street, and though they were about 150 yards off, they appeared to be heading towards Ackerman's house.
"Should we get out?" Ziva questioned Tony quietly, as if she were merely thinking aloud.
"Not yet," he compromised. "Let them get a little closer. We don't want to spook Ackerman – the guy has been a pain in the ass to find; I don't want to lose him now."
Ziva nodded.
A few painfully slow minutes later, and the two figures were almost within eyesight. Once again pulling out their binoculars, each NCIS agent craned their head to get a better look at the previously unidentifiable people.
Ziva pulled back, abandoning her binoculars on the headboard, but Tony kept watching. "Tony, why are you still watching? It's only two woman; I am fairly certain neither of them is Peter Ackerman." Her tone oozed condescending sarcasm.
"Only two women?" Tony responded without moving. "They're two pretty hot women," he explained, earning an eye-roll from Ziva.
"Do you not have Ms.-I-met-her-at-a-bar-last-month to worry about?"
Dropping the binoculars, a confused expression crossed Tony's face, before the dawn of comprehension was illuminated. "Oh, right. Ah, no. Ellen and I decided that we weren't really meant to be… or more I did, after she asked when she and her thirteen cats were moving in."
"I see. Thirteen is considered unlucky here, no?" Ziva teased. "Had you given her a little time, I am sure she could have found a fourteenth and all would be well."
"Well then, I suppose it's my loss." Tony's grin juxtaposed his words unbelievably. "Anyway, on the topic of settling down with up-teen cats, how's Ray?" If Ziva noticed the sour discolor of his voice, she didn't show it.
"Ray is a dog person actually, thank God. However we broke up a few months back." Her tone was controlled, revealing nothing.
Tony observed her a little closer for a few short moments, and then awkwardly began to break the ripened silence. "I'm sorry it didn't work out," he offered.
Yet again, Ziva nodded.
The silence thrived, but before it became too unbearable sweet, a cellphone rang. "McGee," Tony muttered as he read the screen, then answered the call.
"Hey Tony?" McGee's voice crackled due to the lack of decent cell-phone coverage.
"The one and only."
"Well, I've been tracking Ackerman's cellphone GPS for a while and it doesn't look like he's coming home anytime soon. But Gibbs said stay, "McGee informed a resigned Tony.
"McGee said Ackerman's not coming home," Tony whispered to Ziva.
"So we can leave now?" Ziva crowed excitedly, interrupting.
"Easy, tiger. Nope, Gibbs said we have to stay," Ceasing to whisper and changing over to speaking into his cellphone, Tony continued. "So McGee, when are we off duty?"
A hesitant pause ensued, which eventually McGee broke. "I'll call you?"
"'Kay. Bye," Tony ended the call and turned his body towards Ziva. "We're here until McGee calls."
"That could be ages!"
Tony nodded. "Infinity and beyond."
Ziva gave him a puzzled look; Tony rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Come on, surely you've seen Toy Story!"
"Is that not a children's film, Tony?" Her words were condescending, but her eyes grew velvety soft.
Tony shrugged; "It's a classic. My old neighbor had a son who loved it. And I'm tired."
Ziva fueled the silence with a wordless smile. An uncountable number of minutes passed, before she began to speak again. "Did you watch films as a child?"
Tony looked up from the game on his cellphone, smiling. "Yeah…"
"Do you have a favorite one?"
He answered immediately. "Robin Hood. When I was about seven, I used to watch it all the time. It never bothered me that the movie was pretty old, I just thought that it was awesome." He paused and smiled at Ziva, nostalgia clouding his eyes. "So, did you ever see any movies in-between Mossad ninja training?" He joked, but his tone held gravity.
"Of course. "
"And?"
"And what?"
Tony rolled his eyes. "What was your favorite?"
"I did not have one." Ziva lied seamlessly.
Tony observed critically her for a short instance. "Liar," he responded, calling her out on her bluff. "What was it?"
"It does not matter, Tony – it is only a children's film!"
"It matters to me," he paused; his own words echoed and to be honest, frightened him a little. "Come on, cough it up!"
"Why would I be coughing?"
Tony groaned. "Figure of speech, Zee-vah. And you're stalling."
"Alright, alright," she surrendered. "I may have watched The Sound of Music many times with my siblings." The darkness smothered the rising rosy hue in her cheeks.
Tony laughed a mocking-less laugh. "Never pegged you for a Julie Andrews, singing-upon-the-mountains type."
Ziva shrugged. "She sings well. And I was young. Very young." A pregnant pause ensued, coercing her continue. "Captain von Trapp was more like a general than a father to his children, and I suppose I saw certain, ah, similarities between him and…" she trailed off.
"Your father." Tony concluded, nodding.
"But then he changed; he became a wonderful father to his children."
Tony waited for Ziva to finish, but she remained engulfed in her silence. "All it took was the Captain to find Maria," he stated conclusively.
Ziva regarded Tony cynically. "You think so?"
"Yeah. I think he just needed someone else in his life, you know?"
Yes, Ziva thought. Perhaps she did.