A/N: So I was listening to my songs on shuffle and this one popped on and I just knew I had to write about it. This will be a three-parter and it starts off with Ziva's first mission with Jenny and it basically follows her days in Mossad into the far future.

Disclaimer: *cough* no.

If Tonight Is My Last

.::.

If an angel came down to me,
asked what I would do differently,
I would say nothing, you see,
I have loved someone truly

-"If Tonight is My Last" by Laura Izibor

.::.

I.A New Beginning

Not many people could truly claim that they'd lost their childhood, whether by the taint of blood or the abuse of a hand, but there was a few who could. And Ziva David was one of them.

There was not a single day that goes by that she regretted or wished things could have been different, that she could have stood proudly next to her classmates and say that she had a dream, and that she could reach it.

But she could not, and she will never have the chance to voice those words, which for some were meaningless and taken granted for, it was a freedom that had been stripped unfairly from her.

She would be lying if she denied that throughout the years from her phase into adolescence and then into adulthood she did not consider the thought of taking the easy way out. And that could definitely explain the tragic-bound destiny that she seemed to have adopted.

Time after time she searched endlessly for an answer, a reason, something to reassure her that this was happening to her because she deserved it. But one after another, the doors all slammed in her face and left her bruised and desperate; everywhere she sought refused to show any grief for a puzzled child just looking for an explanation.

The constant failure is what probably led her to Mossad. An institution that she now believed was the greatest of all mistakes she has ever made. And looking back she could justify and knew exactly why she did so though, it was an answer, but a shitty one at that, a cowardly one.

.::.

An angel.

Not exactly.

But Jenny Shepard was close enough to one. Well at least to her; she gave her a way out, one that guaranteed words of permanency and no slam of the door in her face. Before she recruited into Mossad her world still had some sort of vibrancy, a small but present promise that things may turn out her way. Mossad changed all that, instead it plunged her down to a world of black and red. She had to make a choice, side with evil or die. There was where her string of mistakes all began.

So when Jenny appeared before her on a mission in Europe, a kaleidoscope of colours beamed into her world, there was opportunity and she snatched at it like a starving beggar for the last can of food.

"So you're with Mossad?" the redhead sipped on her tea elegantly – almost queen-like, with the little finger and all.

"Yes."

"For how long now?"

"That is not important."

"Okay… I'm Jenny Shepard been in the business for quite awhile now and I love it." That surprised Ziva a little, it was odd, she was not used to this openness that the woman opposite her was demonstrating.

"Ziva."

"You can talk you know, there is nothing to hide here," a muffled chuckled invaded the cool air and the look that the redhead shot at her made something in Ziva relax, not completely, but it felt a hell lot better.

"You should watch your back more often."

"Yeh I agree, I've got to get use to that, huh? I used to depend on my partner to cover my six," the smile on the woman's face puzzled Ziva; she couldn't understand the line of thought this strange woman seemed to have.

"You should not be interdependent; you cannot trust anyone in this world." A pair of greenish-blue eyes squinted at the Israeli, almost in disbelief.

"Then how do you work with a team if you have no faith or trust in them?" the ceramic cup clinked against the mosaic table top.

"I work alone, it is simple."

"Well darling, you're going to have to learn, you're working with me now," again the woman flashed her pearly whites, Ziva didn't bother to answer, it was not necessary, "okay, I get it. Our lives are completely different, polar opposites maybe, but come on we're in the same profession –"

The Israeli snorted, as if it was a complete absurd comment made by her new acquaintance, "We do not have the same profession."

"Okay, we're in a profession that associates with each other, my point is there must be something in common for our paths to meet, and I believe that's the love and desire for our jobs."

"I disagree." A monotonous voice replied, clearly not interested in the way this conversation had played out.

"If you could change your life, would you? Don't you do what you do to safe people and protect them?"

The answer was 'No' she didn't do it to save others but rather herself, from going insane. But there was no way that she was going to tell her that, she knew well enough what to say and what not to say so she wouldn't alienate people.

But the question that lingered in her head was one that she had asked herself many times before, and sometimes she did wonder what she'd be like if she had the chance to live a different life. On the contrary, the sacrifices and willpower that she had to muster has taught her many more valuable life lessons and gave her values and morals that she could not imagine not living by.

"Exactly my point, look Ziva I am your friend, not your enemy," the tea was drained from the cup and the redhead stood, her hand held out for a shake. Ziva took it cautiously and with a stoic face she gave a slight curtsey.

"Lighten up!" the woman pulled her in for a friendly hug, and she stiffened at the unfamiliar contact. The woman gave a bright smile and headed off, leaving behind a very shocked assassin unsure what to do or say.

But one thing that she was sure of was that maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all. She hadn't been assigned to work with a woman ever before, and she wished she had been earlier.

She really was an angel.

.::.

A/N: So there's the first part for ya! Drop a review as you leave, it'd be much appreciated