A/N This is the first chapter of a big project I've been working on for a long time now. I'm basically rewriting the back half of season 10 in the way I believe would have been truly organic and that would have led Tiva to be canon by the season finale.
Each chapter will be a tag to an episode and it will focus on Tiva (duh).
The events of this first chapter take place after episode 10x12, Shiva.

PS I own nothing, blah blah blah... otherwise we wouldn't even be here.

The sudden buzz of an incoming text shook Tony out of the haze he had fallen into while handling some backlog. Paperwork had piled up in the previous days, after the emergency of the shooting at the Vance's.

Hey, you busy?

Ziva. For a second, he was unsure on how to respond. If she was asking him that, it could only mean she needed to talk to him, but on the other hand, if she texted instead of calling maybe she wasn't really up for a proper conversation. He was quick to throw precaution out of the window and press on the "call" button, though, because he needed to hear her voice, and probably that was just what she needed too.

"Hey." Her quiet greeting interrupted the second beep.

"Hey" was his answer, and then he pretty much got stuck. He hadn't thought it through. He couldn't just do small talk and ask her how things were going.

She saved him, being the good partner she was.

"Quiet day?"

"Yeah… no, just paperwork, you know," he answered. "The truth is, there is too much silence here without you" he added, deliberately playing with the "quiet" cue.

She snorted. "As if I was the loud one in there."

He chuckled along, relieved to hear her joke.

"You know, it's too quiet here, too" she continued, more softly.

"Wait, what? I thought–" He bit his tongue, cursing himself for almost giving away his partly alarmed, partly pissed reaction. She wasn't supposed to be abandoned with her grief. He wasn't an expert on Shiva, but he knew that after the funeral people were supposed to visit the mourner. She had never told him much about her friends and family in Israel, but he had always assumed she was still in contact with some people. Had he been so utterly wrong? How was it possible that nobody had showed up? He couldn't ask her that. He was about to ask where Shmeil was instead, when she intervened to solve some of his doubts.

"People have come and left, Tony. Shmeil helped me with that, I needed some time alone. And now that I am… I needed a friend."

"Oh." Her answer didn't make things much better. The heart of the matter was the same: she felt alone. He exhaled. "I would jump on the first plane if I could, Ziva."

"I know." She did know she wasn't alone. "It's not necessary though. Let's just talk a bit, yes?"

"As you wish," he answered charmingly, smiling by himself, glad she had confirmed once again that she hadn't forgotten she could count on him. Then he tried to steer the conversation towards the lighter side. "So, what about the obnoxious acquaintances you kicked out?"

"It's not that they're obnoxious, it's just that I don't know these people anymore. And you know, all the superficial, or fake comments about how great my father was and the great things he has done…" She stopped. She didn't want to say out loud how disgusted some of the things that had been said had made her feel. She resented herself for not being able to believe them, or to be one of those people who can forgive and forget a dead man's sins right after his passing.
She changed subject, trying to go back to the easier direction Tony had set.

"I've been talking about you today."

"Really?"

"I did. It was because of the eulogy. It was difficult to figure it out, initially. I was stuck, so at some point I just wrote down the opening line you suggested, and tried to restart from there. And it made the trick. It helped me clear my head about what I wanted to say." She paused for a second before adding what she held dear most. "And breaking the ice with it when it was time to deliver it made it easier. You were there, somehow."

And just like that, she had stolen his breath. It had come so unexpected. The affectionate tone she had used to utter that last sentence made him feel the urge to hug her again. And never let her go, if possible. He couldn't, though, he had to convey his feelings with words, and by phone.

"That's… wow. Wow, Ziva" was all he could draw out.

His speechlessness was so unlike him, that she misunderstood. It had triggered a sudden thought in her mind.

"Does it bother you that I mentioned I was quoting you? I know you didn't exactly like my father."

She mentally kicked herself for not thinking about it earlier. She had acted on impulse at the funeral, without considering if Tony would have had any problems with being involved.

"Of course it's okay! It's an honor, Ziva, really," he reassured her, taken aback by her reaction, and sorry for her tendency to burden herself with unnecessary guilt. "And I'm more than glad to have contributed to his eulogy if that helped you."

"Thank you. For understanding… and for the hint." She hoped he would hear her smile. "People asked a lot of questions about you, afterwards."

"No wonder, who wouldn't want to know more about Tony DiNozzo, orator extraordinaire? You told them good things, I hope... or will I have some Mossad rogue crazypants hot on my heels within the next 48 hours?"

"I'm pretty sure I did not give anyone of Mossad any reason to, Tony."

"'Pretty sure' isn't very reassuring. Plus, I'd like to have a chance to see you when you get back, so I wouldn't appreciate being kidnapped before the weekend."

"About that… I am not coming back this weekend. I am leaving for Be'er Sheva tonight, and I will stay there a few days."

"Tonight? Isn't it very late already, there?"

"It's not that late, and even if it were, I don't want to stay here at my father's house. Also, it's just an hour's drive."

"An hour of your driving or an hour of normal speed driving?" he asked, genuinely worried. Then he realized she probably wasn't in the mood to put up with being teased about her driving style, so he dropped it. Almost.
"Sorry. Just text me when you get there, so that I know that you haven't got yourself arrested for breaking every existing traffic law, ok?"

Going to the house she was born in, surrounded by trees and floral smells and silence and memories, had been a choice made on instinct. A couple of old friends had offered her some company, but self-preservation had prevailed over politeness and traditions. She needed to elaborate her grief on her own.

Staying at her father's apartment wasn't an option, as she had told Tony. That place was completely foreign to her. It had taken less than an hour, after the visitors had left, for the unease of being there to start creeping up her back. She had called Tony to get rid of that sensation, to let his familiar voice ground her. It had, and the idea of leaving, that had been on the back of her mind, had become real.

Her first day in the house passed quickly. The little mansion had stayed closed for years, so it needed to be ventilated and there was dust to be removed. Taking care of her old home was weirdly soothing. There was something about it that made her feel as if she never left. As if she was taking care of the people who used to live in there with her.
She found two photo albums and a few books, which she dusted and put into her suitcase. She took a walk in the orchard at sundown. The uncut grass, the untrimmed and unharvested trees made the place look more abandoned than the house itself, and while the walk in the nature felt regenerating, she didn't find the peace she was looking for.

When the night came, she found herself unable to fall asleep for the fourth night in a row, no matter how tired she felt. Everything around her felt incomplete: the house had been abandoned, the trees had been neglected… and her relationship with her father was full of things left unsaid. And those things kept parading in her mind, and slowly but inexorably they were joined by all the grief she had carried for decades, for her brother, her mother, her sister.

She stood up, switched some lights on and exited the bedroom, hoping to find some relief in the kitchen. Minutes later, with a freshly brewed chamomile tea in her hands, she realized it was the silence, that was messing with her sanity. That house had never been silent when she was a kid, but it had been ages now, since those walls had heard a conversation, or a laugh, or noises in the kitchen. It made her crave the sound of a friendly voice.

She had just gone online on Skype when Tony's goofy profile picture popped up on her screen. The sound of the ringtone made her feel immediately better.

She was already walking out of the airport when he managed to reach it. He pulled over in a very questionable spot and gestured towards her. She greeted him from afar with a wave and a smile, then rushed in his direction, noticing he was breaking some traffic laws.
Hadn't he been there just for her, this fact could have been great retaliation material.

He slammed the car door when she got close, walked around the car and stopped right in front of her.

"I thought I told you I could take a cab."

"And I thought I told you to stop arguing and meet me here."

She shook her head, smiling.

"Thank you."

He smiled back. "Give me your bag and hop on. We need to move before I get a parking fine."

The drive was mostly silent, aside from some casual catching up about the team. He wanted to ask her if she was hungry and take her to eat something and maybe talk a little bit, but the dark circles under her eyes suggested him to back off for now.

He wasn't surprised. Their video chat in the middle of the night had been a clear enough sign. He knew she had spent the next three days doing what she had defined "therapeutic gardening", which probably meant she had tried to reach oblivion through physical exhaustion.

When he dropped her off at her house she looked grateful. She knew him too well not to know he was going against his talkative nature. Silence was her way of coping, not his.

She insisted she could carry her suitcase up the stairs on her own and wished him goodnight. Moments after walking into her home, though, she felt something was wrong. She could not pinpoint what was different, but she couldn't shake the sensation that someone had been there.
Her nerves on the edge, she quickly searched for her phone. If Tony had left her there it meant the team had made sure the place was safe, but Ilan was still at large after all and…
She finally found her phone, that interrupted her thoughts buzzing in her hand.

Sorry, I forgot to tell you I stopped by this afternoon to turn the heating on. There are some groceries in the fridge in case you're hungry. I hope your spidey senses hadn't already put you on alert :)

A second text followed right after.

Welcome back, Ziva.

A/N Feedback appreciated, as always. Thank you for reading. I hope this is a promising enough start for you guys, because I'm very satisfied about the next 3 chapters...