I got the idea for this short story from the TV-show 'All you need is love'. What if Tony wrote to Robert ten Brink (Dutch host of All you need is love) because he realized he can't live without Ziva anymore. Thanks to Pickles the Great and angel- death- dealer for the inspiration.
All you need is Love
Chapter 1 The letter:
Tony turned on the light in his apartment, grabbed a beer from the fridge and let himself fall on the couch. It had been a rough case. A lieutenants wife killed and their daughter kidnapped while he was still overseas. Team Gibbs had found the killer and saved their little girl, but it left quite an impression on Tony. When he escorted the lieutenant and his daughter out the lieutenant told him that he hoped he could tell his wife how much he loved her just one more time. And even though the case had been a nice distraction to Tony it hit him again. Ziva was still in Tel Aviv, not here with him. And oh he missed her so. It felt like someone had punched a hole in his chest, he couldn't explain is. It just felt empty without her. He hadn't even noticed it for the day, but when the lieutenant spoke about love it was hard for him not to think about Ziva. Tony turned on the TV on, flicking through channels. At one point he stopped, wondering why he even had reception to Dutch channels. But somehow the show that was on overwhelmed him and he kept watching. He saw how a girl had wished for Robert ten Brink to bring her boyfriend back from deployment, she missed him so much. The second she wished it her boyfriend came through the 'love doors' of the studio and walked into the girls arms.
'If anyone knows somebody who's loved can't be near or if you are that person don't hesitate to write.' Robert said and with that he ended his show 'All you need is love'.
As if Robert was speaking right towards Tony he grabbed a pen an peach of paper and began to write.
Dear Robert,
I don't know you and this night was the first time that I saw your show. I don't how you make everything on your show happen, but what I do know is that I desperately need your help. You see I work at NCIS, that's an American Federal Agency, and there's this beautiful , exotic, kick-ass girl that I work with, she's my partner. We always had a playful banter: flirting, teasing and nothing more. But lately it has become serious. We talk about what we want in life, our childhoods etc. I developed feelings for her. And not just the past couple of months, but the past couple of years. Every time I see her with another man I wonder: What does he have that I don't? I'm just jealous, don't wanting to admit it. Not to myself and not to her. Certainly not to her. I love her so much and she doesn't even know it. And now she's gone. She went to Tel Aviv, a town in her native country Israel. Her father made her fulfill her duties there. She doesn't belong there, she belongs here with me, how selfish that may sound. I can't live without her. I want more of her each day. She has been hurt to many times and I just want to give her all the love that I have. She is the strongest, most loving and caring person I have ever met. I miss her so much and I just want to tell her that I love her. I don't care if she feels the same way or not, it just need to be said. I can't sit across her regretting that I never said it. We face danger every day and it always took a dangerous situation to admit our feelings towards each other bit by bit. Now I want to have the chance to admit my feelings completely without thinking that I may not live through the situation. Without getting head slapped by my boss or killed by her father for loving her. Yeah, our boss has a list of rules and rule number twelve is 'never date a co-worker' so there you go. Oh and her father is the director of Mossad an Israeli Agency. He isn't really my biggest fan and he would be against a relationship too. See, she's Jewish and I'm a Catholic. I don't care because I love her anyway, but her father thinks she should date a Jewish man. I can't tell you about the Jewish holidays. I can't tell you how long they last or what you do for them. I can't tell the stories or sing the songs. I definitely can't speak Hebrew, so I guess that's another point against me. I can't tell you her favorite holiday as a child. I can't tell you her favorite day of Hanukkah. But I can tell you that I love her. I can tell you that her favorite color is green, and that she hates the curls in her hair even though I think they're beautiful. I can tell you that she sings in the shower to songs she'd never admit that she loves. I can tell you that she loves dancing because it's her escape from the world, and that her favorite movie is The Sound of Music. I can tell you that she cares about her friends so much that she'll risk everything, even her pride, to help them out. I can tell you about the forty-six different smiles she's got, and the twenty-five different ways she can be angry with me. I can tell you that she's haunted by the some of the things she did in Mossad but that she forget everything when she's with me and just be a kid again, 'cause I am too sometimes. I really do love her and I miss her so. Please bring her back to me. I need her in my life. Her name is Ziva David. It means Radiance in Hebrew. One look at her and it's not hard to tell why. Every inch of her glows. Her skin lights up in the sun like gold. Her eyes catch fire and shine the second she smiles. There are times I think she's not even real; a painting. An artist's depiction of what an angel might look like. But the trouble with angels is that they never stay put. But her, she's a statue. Her feet stay firmly on the ground, and the wings I know she has never beat. But I see it; I see the ghost of an angel whenever her eyes gleam or she cocks her gun or her skin goes flush with excitement right before a brawl. In Hebrew, her name means radiance. But to me, Ziva means life . Please bring her back into my life!
Yours Sincerely,
Anthony D. DiNozzo.
There it was, his letter. Everything was out now and he couldn't go back anymore. It was the right thing to do. Then why was he so nervous. Wasn't this what he wanted. Tony decided that he would give the letter to McGee tomorrow, 'cause he didn't trust himself enough to post it. An e-mail would have gone faster, but this was more original. He wanted to make sure that Robert got his message. It was already one am. He heard his bed calling. Tony showered and crawled in. That night he was pretty sure that he would dream of Ziva.
At the squad room
''Morning Tony.'' McGee greeted happily while he walked into the squad room.
''Morning Tim.'' He replied rather sadly, suddenly having doubts about his plan.
''Tony I know you miss Ziva we all do, but try and live a little. I know she wouldn't want you to be like this. ''
''There's no point McGee. It just doesn't feel the same.''
''Come on, you can even pull a prank on me if it makes you feel better.'' McGee tried, but Tony kept staring into distance.
''I'm gonna go and check the mail for my paycheck. Do you want me to take yours up to?'' McGee asked. Tony's face lid up, remembering the letter he wrote yesterday night.
''No, but can you post something for me without asking any questions.'' Tony replied.
''Sure.'' McGee said a little confused.
Tony handed him the letter and McGee walked off. As much as Tony loved to pull pranks on him he was really grateful that he had such a friend like Tim. They had become more than friends, they became brothers. Brothers who would do anything for each other. McGee helped Tony a lot with technical stuff and Tony helped McGee a lot when it came to women. But it was a good pair, add Ziva to it and you had the three musketeers. Lately there were only two left, but Tony had a feeling that it was going to change very soon. Tony saw hours into days and days into weeks but he never lost hope.
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