Summary: "It had been a while since she had mourned, and she was going to do it properly tonight—for hours, if she needed to." Tony accompanies Ziva on a walk to mourn Tali.
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. (What? I used up all my creativity writing fics. I have no brain juice left for disclaimers...)
Spoilers: None, except for Tali, and I just wrote it, so ... lol.
This is one of the fics that rightfully belongs in my other story Glimpse, but I'm publishing it as a separate fic because 1) the format is slightly different; 2) I really like this fic. Yea, I play favourites with my fics :D
It's short, but I hope you like it! Enjoy; please review!
-Soph
Scarf
The cold wind stung her face, reminding her that she was yet alive in a world filled with harshness and painful realities. She cherished the sting; welcomed it, because as with everyone else on Earth, sometimes she just felt the need to hurt.
She walked along the Potomac, coming from the Navy Yard but headed nowhere. It had been a while since she had mourned, and she was going to do it properly tonight—for hours, if she needed to. So she walked. One foot before another, one step that was followed by another. Over and over and over, until minutes blended into hours, and her face was so numb that it didn't even sting anymore.
Her hands were numb, too. She had forgotten her gloves in the bullpen, but had forsaken the comfort of tucking her frozen fingers into her coat pockets so that she could feel the wind on them instead. Her scarf was loosening with each gust, and finally it blew off and flew away so quickly that she barely even had time to blink. She debated running after it, but decided that some things had to be let go of, after all.
A sudden shadow at her back was preceded by a husky, oddly comforting voice. "I think you dropped your scarf."
She snickered before turning to look at the figure behind her. "You don't think; you know. You have been following me for hours, yes?"
A cheeky grin appeared on the figure's face, and his gloved fingers brushed her skin as he gently wrapped the scarf around her neck again. "Only about two hours, according to my awesome new watch. What are you doing out here?"
"I could ask you the same."
He shrugged. "Following you."
She watched his hands linger on her neck, arranging and rearranging her scarf for far longer than necessary. "It is the anniversary of Tali's death."
His hands stopped moving. "Oh."
She lowered her cheek, seeking the warmth of his hand. As his palm cupped her cheek, a thumb brushed right beneath her eyelashes, and he said, "You're freezing."
She shook her head. "Do not try to stop me from mourning, Tony. I need to do this. I have not mourned her for years."
"Why not?"
"I have always told myself that I need to forget."
"And now?"
"Now I think that forgetting may be worse than remembering."
He was still; so still and so comforting, just a solid presence she needed to remind herself that she would not be alone in this if she did not want to be. A tiny shift of his hand made her want to cry out for the return of his warmth against her cheek, but it turned out that he had only meant to un-glove one of his hands and pull the glove carefully over one of hers, before tucking it into her coat pocket and taking up her other hand.
The weaving of his bare fingers in between hers brought back feeling to her hand. "Let's walk," was all he said, and walk they did. One foot before another, one step that was followed by another; over and over and over, until minutes blended into hours.
Only this time, her cheeks burnt with the sweetest of sensations.