Tony's felt his body tense as Ziva turned slowly to face him. His gut told him that this was it. Unless by some miracle he could change her mind, this was goodbye.
"So what now?" Ziva asked quietly.
"Well, we head back to D.C. And I'm...going to hand in my badge. For good, this time."
"You're quitting? Why?"
"Because I'm tired, Ziva. Tired of watching this job hurt everyone I've ever cared about. I want out."
"But the two things are inseparable Tony, you know that. Gibbs, McGee, Abby, Ducky, Jimmy—the people you care about—will always be in danger. They need you there to protect them."
Someone's conspicuously absent from that list, Tony thought. Was she removing herself from the group of people he cared about? Or people who worked for NCIS? He felt a lump rise in his throat. "And you?"
"I...will not be returning to D.C."
There it was. Tony felt tears burning at the corners of his eyes. Keep it together, DiNozzo. He pursed his lips and clenched his jaw as tightly as he could. He felt as if his heart was attempting to claw its way out of his chest. Converting oxygen to carbon dioxide became an utterly foreign concept. Is this what dying feels like?
Ziva took his silence as a cue to continue. "The truth is, I know how you feel. It was death that brought me to NCIS eight years ago. Kate's death. Ari's death. Death has been following me around all my life. My family's blood is on my hands. I just want to...stop."
"Stop and...?" Tony choked out.
"Stop and live, Tony." Ziva's bottom lip began to tremble. Give me a reason to come home, she prayed silently.
"With Adam?" It was no use even trying to conceal the traces of hurt in his voice. Ziva's eyes narrowed slightly, like a hawk locked onto its prey.
"Why are you here?" It was less a question and more an accusation. Or perhaps it was less an accusation and more a final desperate grasp at a tiny shred of hope.
Tony closed his eyes and offered a half-hearted smile. "Couldn't live without you, I guess."
Ziva let out something that could have resembled a chuckle, had it not carried such a heavy burden. "I remember," she said softly. She paused to examine a pebble near her shoe. "Why are you really here?"
"I just told you. I'm here..." He trailed off, his resolve crumbling. His mind whirled until at last it came to rest at a familiar place: Tony DiNozzo's inexhaustible bank of movie quotes. He cleared his throat. When at last he spoke, his words came slowly, deliberately, as if his life depended on the careful articulation of each and every one. "I came here, Ziva, because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
The smile began in Ziva's eyes, teased at the corners of her mouth. "When Harry Met Sally?"
"You watched it." He had to admit, he was a little proud.
"There's something I don't get about that movie." Was it Tony's imagination, or had she edged a little closer? "Why did it take Harry so long to figure out how he felt? They were friends for what, twelve years?"
Tony's breath caught in his chest. His tongue suddenly felt too fat for his mouth. "Oh, I think that he knew how he felt from the moment he met her, but he was so afraid of messing up what they already had that he almost let her get away." He inched towards her; after all, two could play at that game.
"And what finally drove away his fear?"
"It was overpowered by the fear of...losing her. Forever." He took a deep breath. "I can't lose you, Ziva." His voice had reduced to a whisper.
"Tony..."
"Here's the thing: I love you. I love you Ziva David, and if you don't feel the same way, you just say so and I'll—"
"Oh for God's sake, Tony." Throwing her left arm over his shoulder and cupping her right hand around the back of his neck, she pressed him toward her, crushing her lips against his. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist and together they just fit, fit like they'd been doing this all their lives, like this was the only thing they knew or had ever known. And when their lips finally parted, they stayed intertwined, holding one another until the nearby jet engines roared to life, shaking them from their reverie.
Tony looked over his shoulder at the plane, the air around the engines already rippling in the heat. He turned back to Ziva, his eyes full of wild desperation. She wouldn't leave him now. She wouldn't.
She took his hand, gave it a soft squeeze. A goodbye squeeze? Oh God, no. No no no no no.
And then...
"Come on Tony. Let's go home."
