Disclaimer: I mean no profits with this story. The show and its characters belong to their owners - and I'm no way related to them.
McGee's last novel has just been released and his wrap party is about to be over. He didn't want a huge social event, but his publichers thought otherwise.
The room is no longer filled with strangers and annoying small talk. But the place is still warm and smells of the ocean, thankfully.
The ones who matter are still standing in the corner, gathered in a familiar group hug they've come to miss. There are so many memories between them, both good and bad. Their eyes are filled with tears that refuse to fall and there's a knot in their throats, making it hard to swallow.
They feel home. And kind of guilty, because not all of them are here... Jimmy couldn't come, due to his older son's gratuation party. Gibbs and Ducky are long gone. And it's still bitter; it still hurts.
They are all different people now. Older, wiser, more lonely. Their skins are wrinkled and almost all their bones hurt. When the team came apart, each one of them took different routes.
Back to the present, McGee and Abby hug Tony and Ziva their goodbyes. Walking towards the back door and holding hands, they both silently pray this is not the last time they'll see each other.
The year is 2033 and Tony and Ziva haven't hook up yet.
They all remember how, at a certain point, Gibbs' rules - which once made it impossible for them to be together - were no longer in the way. Ducky died and Gibbs retired, leaving the NCIS lead team for whom he thought was more capable and fresh. Tony could have replaced him, but he chose to leave; becoming a well-recognized civilian investigator. McGee and Abby remained, becoming even closer and giving in to a love they had fought to live. And Ziva left to become a professor, having been called to teach defense techniques in a traditional University.
Deep down, all she wanted to be was 'happy'.
And the rules were just an excuse.
She sees it now.
He sees it too.
They are the only ones left. And the silence is heavy but comfortable, so they finally face each other. Their eyes are curious and they blush a little; it's been such a long time... Tony is the first to break the mood, by releasing a charming smile and saying casually, "You're looking good, miss David."
Ziva laughs, despite of herself, and flirts back, looking at him up and down. "You don't look so bad yourself, DiNozzo."
Their banter is back; unbreakable.
Reaching out to touch her forearm with his fingertips, he offers, "Wanna take a walk?"
She just nods her answer, holding his gaze. Then she takes off her sandals, watching him grab both their cups from the table. When he's done, he comes towards her and touches the small of her back, forcing her to go outside.
He opens his mouth and starts to talk about his life and the troubles he's still getting into.
Ziva shivers (because he's still touching her) and wears a little smile in the corner of her lips. She finds it strange that, even after all this time and considering all that's changed, he's still not a man of a few words. Tony keeps on talking as if things are still the same; craking jokes as if they still see each other on a daily basis. But she sees it in his eyes: he's also a silent man, in a way; the kind who has finally learned to just be and not to expect anything from life. Or people.
Well, but if she's honest with herself, she's pretty much the same too: the prototype of a ninja who loves the wind on her face and is addicted to adrenaline and trouble; a lonely wolf who doesn't know how to open her heart. She's still that girl inside, even though she's most definitely not a girl anymore.
They walk side by side, walking through the soft sand, as if they are somehow taken to years before: being partners in crime, sharing each and every step. The breeze surrounds them and Ziva starts to wonder about happiness, plans, dreams and regrets, realising that she's just trying to avoid her biggest issue: Tony DiNozzo, the man-clown, whose presence is warm and real at this point. He's the issue she can't ignore anywore; the one she never really could.
She remembers when he went all the way to the airport just to see her leaving to bury her father. She remembers the concern in his eyes; the intimate hug and his poorly-but-ever-perfect attempt to pronounce Hebrew words. 'You're not alone', he said. And she still remembers as if it was yesterday.
She remembers his eyes (she has always loved those green depths, had actually fallen in love with them from the first moment they connected with hers) and how they sent her mixed messages: so proud, so damn proud, but so... frustrated, at the same time.
Tony's smiling at her; but he looks hurt, disapointed.
He understands that she had to leave. He always did, always does.
And she remembers feeling the same and wondering just how bare naked her eyes must have been to him, too. They were so close to finally being together back at those days, when the team broke apart.
Tony takes a deep breath, drinking in her beauty. She's a mature woman, by now; but still just as dangerously beautiful as before - exotic, interesting... He remembers so many things; including the night Eli died. He remembers seeing the tough soldier inside of her come apart right before his eyes; the orphan coming to life - so scared. He was actually scared, himself, he remembers perfectly too. Scared for her life, for her safety, her own sanity. He was scared because he simply didn't know how to make her stay. He didn't believe it was fair, really, she had to grief. But... He couldn't even admit to himself just how badly he wanted her to stay.
For the first time in years, he wanted to possess the words to keep her from running away and to be selfish enough to ask her (beg her, if necessary) to stay. To give them a try.
It wasn't fair, really; but he had no rights over the matter. A man with his past had no rights at all...
And life isn't fair anyway.
So both of them moved on. At least, the both of them tried to believe they had moved on.
Time passed...
And "time heals all wounds", isn't that what they say?
Well, perhaps not all wounds.
Definitely not theirs.
And so they promised each other that they would keep in touch. But, well, we all know how these things work, right? Life gets in the way, the troubles keeps on coming... and, when we realize, we are not as young anymore. The world is simply not as colorful as before.
Tony kept on having his one night stands.
And as far as he knows (McGee had kept in touch with her, somehow), Ziva got married with a man who taught maths in the same university she worked in. A guy so physically different from him, that Tony was under the impression that she'd just chosen him so she she could be completely in control and not to feel shivers down her spine anymore.
But, well, the marriage didn't even last two summers. (Abby had apparently kept in touch with her as well.)
Ziva managed to remain friends with her ex-husband and Tony justifies to himself that it only happens when one person in the relationship is still in love and the other one never really was... And he's right to think that, because it's true.
But he never goes any further than that.
He doesn't adress the issue.
(He feels like he doesn't have to right to, remember?)
He stops on his tracks to analyse her; it's sunny and she's dressed casually. He wonders how many of her male students fantasizes about her. And he smiles, as she stops to look back at him, frowning her forehead. He realizes she hasn't asked where he's coming from or even if he came just to see her. (Maybe she wants to confess that she drove all the way just to see him too.)
Tony stops his overthinking, because the knots in his throat make it impossible to think of anything else - but her.
It has always been her: the love of his life.
She looks older now, time finally catching up with her. Her body is even more curvy (he loves it) and her hair ends in loose curls just above her shoulders, flying with the wing and testing his self-control. She looks more relaxed but, somehow, defeated by life. And - God! - so damn beautiful. Always beautiful. She fixes him a small smile and he remembers how good it feels to have someone around - to have HER around; a small pleasure he's left aside for a few years now...
The years didn't pass him untouched, either. He weights more. His eyes are sad; more distant. But his walls are coming down, just because he's standing there with her, close to the shores. Tony lets go of the cups he brought and, gathering an unknown courage, he takes her right hand in his left one, pushing her towards the waves. His knees hurt, but that doesn't stop him; his hair is closer to grey then dark-brown, like it used to be.
She looks at him completely and feels her heart clutching. She feels love consuming her insides, because he looks so mysteriously charming; so handsome. (As always)
They hold their breaths as their eyes have a silent conversation, neither knowing exactly what to say. He should be the one to aknowledge the elephant in the room, since he was the one who asked her to stay a little longer. He was the one who broke their silent promise of not making the first move, because the price would be too high to pay. But... she forgives him, for not saying anything, for being the man-who-is-better-with-action-than-words. She always forgives him anyway.
And so their brains stop working and their bloods rush through their veins... their memories coming back with full-force.
Yes, the rules were just an excuse.
They never hooked up because... they were chicken-shits. (Aren't we all, when it comes to love?) They were scared because what they had was huge. They had what most people - if not all - crave for: failing in love with your best friend, the safe-bet, the one who understands you without words, that compromise that is never spoken but always there, even when there's no ring on their fingers. A mixture of friendship and loyalty and respect and admiration and understanding and lust and... and everything, really.
Every portion of life.
The whole package.
'But it's scary', they used to tell themselves. It's not just sex; not just a comfortable friendship in which the lines are visibly drawn.
The lines between them have always been messy; missleading.
And still, right now they forget the world around them. Details are noticed, even more so. These little things, that make us so unique... You know? Well, I guess maybe you don't. Maybe you shouldn't know. Because these are things that we can only tell when we lose.
And they have lost so much...
They look at each other as though strangers, again; back to square one; back at those days when all she wanted was revenge and answers, and he just wanted to have fun.
Well, maybe they are strangers indeed: so many years have gone by...
Tony sees Ziva biting her lips, in a anxious manner. Then he thinks he might have heard her saying something; he sees her lips moving as she adjusts her fringe behind her ears (she wears a fringe, now; maybe because it makes her feel younger, maybe so she can hide her eyes). But, before he can process the message behind the words, she throws herself at him in one sweet move.
She holds him thight and she hides her face in his neck, that smells so manly and so him. Like a home is supposed to. She whispers over and over again "Don't push me away... Don't push me away, Tony...", as if a mantra; as if she'd been waiting for that moment her whole life.
And the time has come.
He feels a hot moisture, which he assumes are tears, wetting his favorite sweater (the one she gave as a birthday present). But he doesn't give a damn. He pulls her even closer, holding her by the waist so naturally... He hides his face in her hair and smells her essence, drowing in all she has to offer.
Without a second thought, he answers "I never did", as if by reflex. His words are so honest, it hurts. But he sounds doubtful, too, as if debating with himself whether she will believe him or not. But she sees him anyway; the real him; the side that few people have come to know. "Not really", he clarifies. "Not you, Ziva."
He swallows back his own tears and they both feel finally home.
They feel like they belong there, in each other's arms.
Their previous silence is somehow broken by touches, sighs and silent confessions.
The distance between them is broken by love.
It's been such a long time coming.
But they don't feel like they've arrived late at all.
They realize that once you find love, you wait. You wait a minute, a day, a week or a month.
You wait for years, if that's what it takes.
You wait a lifetime, if necessary.
Because it's never too late for love.
The End