This little one-shot is AU, picking up after the Season 10 finale. I am having an I-miss-Ziva day combined with a Past-Present-and-Future-was-totally-unsatisfying day. That's a bad combination for my Tiva loving heart but apparently a good day for my muses.
His gaze follows another plane as it cuts its way through the darkness, and he wonders if this is the one he's been waiting for. The one that will finally bring her home to him after three endless months.
You may not like how this ends, Ziva.
He's running through so many conversations in his head, passing the time as he waits. He had given her that dire warning just before they all detonated their professional lives, and her response had been equally ominous.
I've never depended on happy endings.
The Happy Ending. Tony thought it only existed in movies. Ziva didn't think it existed at all. Neither could have known then, but it was more tangible and imminent than they could have imagined.
The suddenly unemployed trio had left together that night in May, badge-less, rudderless, seeking solace in the familiar corner of a familiar pub. No one had heard from Gibbs, and after a few drinks in mostly silence, McGee left for the unfortunate task of informing Abby of their defection.
When Ziva finally departed a few hours later, she didn't question when he climbed into the cab beside her. Didn't hesitate when he exited with her at her apartment. And didn't stop him when he slid between her sheets and made her forget her own name.
It had been a summer for the record books. Three months to catch up on eight years of desire. Three months of fighting and making up and learning how to be with each other without imploding their lives. And after those three months, he was sure he could never go another day without her again.
After all they had been through, he really should have known not to tempt the fates.
"It is something I alone can do," she had pleaded on a sweltering August day, shoving clothes into a dusty duffle bag. "It's just a few months, Tony. I don't trust Mossad. It's just one more mission, and I'm done. I owe it to my father - to myself - to see it through. After all this time, what is a few months more?"
An eternity. A risk. A foolish mission of revenge. A way of running away just as things were getting serious. His alternative suggestions had been ignored.
She paused at the door, leaning in to kiss him one more time. "You will be there when I get back?" she asked, with a tinge of doubt as if she was really unsure of the answer.
His heart twisted; they were still so fragile in this new and foreign territory. "Waiting for you the moment you get off the plane."
The C130 taxies closer, and Tony knows this is the one he's been waiting for. He steps out into the frigid air and shudders, wondering how anything can still land in this godforsaken weather.
The cargo door opens now, and he knows she will be the first one off the plane. Tony can all but picture the dusty, faded clothes, the wild curls, the tired but content smile that will show the first hint of relief as soon as she sees his face. He can already feel the slender arms wrap around his neck, the quiet voice at his ear telling him that she's done wandering. She's finally back for good, and she'll never, never leave him again.
And he knows - without question - that it's the truth this time.
The warm vision flickers once and vanishes, and Tony tries to focus as the flag draped coffin is carried with utmost care from the belly of the iron beast.
"She's home now," Gibbs whispers gruffly from his sudden sentry at Tony's side. The younger man has no recollection of Gibbs having exited the car, but it doesn't matter. None of it matters, and it never will again.
You may not like how this ends
After all, he has never depended on happy endings either.
I know, I did say angst in the description after all!