I watched The Iron Lady yesterday night and I cried throughout the whole movie. It's definitely one of my favourites, though.
I got the idea to this from the film and just tried to fit it with Tiva. It turned out to be sweet and depressing at once. I almost cried while writing the ending (almost.)

WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH.

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS and I don't own The Iron Lady either. My life's just sad, guys.

~ Untouched ~

It's 5 am as her alarm clock goes off, just like it has been doing every day for almost all her life. She slowly gets up and walks straight to the bathroom. Stretching her aching muscles on the way. The bright lights hurt her eyes, but she turns them on anyway. Her eyes, whose sight used to be much better, focus on her reflection in the mirror and she sighs sadly. Her once luscious hair is now mostly grey, only a few dark curls remind of its once deep chocolate colour. She raises a hand to her face, examining the wrinkles around her eyes. They don't bother her. In fact she thinks that they make her look much friendlier, not as strict as her father looked with age. America suits her, always has. And she thinks it's more than a little of her husband's doing.

"You look fine, Sweetcheeks," says the man in question, as if on cue as he comes up behind her. "The wrinkles suit you."

She chuckles. "I did not complain." Why she still doesn't use contractions regularly even after more than fifty years in the country, she doesn't know. But he always points out that he likes it better this way anyway, and his opinion is the one that matters the most to her. She turns and kisses his cheek, letting her lips be tickled by his short stubble, and hands him a small piece of cloth so he can clean his glasses. She likes them, even though it took her a lot of time to get used to them in the beginning. But in forty-one years of marriage, not only their appearances have changed a great deal, but also their emotional sides.

While she picks out a suit for him to wear, she thinks of the day that he finally gathered the courage to ask her out. On a date. Finally throwing rule 12 out of the window. She's already been in love with him for quite some time then and the ghost of a smile dances at the corners of her mouth while she feels her – thank god still healthy – heart skipping a beat, just because she knows that he loved her too. Still does.
She feels his eyes on her and turns to face him. Even at his old age his sea-green eyes still hold this unique twinkle that she's always found so adorable.

"A dime for your thoughts?" she asks, mixing the idiom up on purpose, for old times' sake.

"I know you know that one." He smirks and walks over to the TV in the living room. "How 'bout a movie? We haven't watched one in quite some time..."

Actually they last watched one the day before, but she doesn't care. She loves how much he still loves movies.
"Let me just make some tea, you can put it in already, yes?"

"Sure." It only takes a minute until the James Bond theme can be heard. Now why doesn't that surprise her?

In their small kitchen she looks at the photos that plaster the walls and counters. Their old house had a much bigger kitchen, so they could cook family dinners with their kids and friends. But when their daughter had gone off to university, they didn't need that much space anymore. So they bought this small townhouse in the suburbs, which was just the perfect size for them with its little garden and bright and open rooms. They truly lived their own personal American Dream.

She absentmindedly touches a finger to one of the photos where the whole team is still together. Abby, Tim, Gibbs, Ducky, even Jimmy Palmer and Vance smile at the camera. She and Tony in the middle of them all. It was their family. And just like in every other family they've always helped each other in every perspective. The hardest thing to deal with has always been loss. Tony has ever since kept a picture of Kate in his wallet. Much later one of his father joined Kate's and when Ducky passed away in a peaceful slumber he too got his special place in her husband's wallet. Only Gibbs he couldn't bear to carry around with him every day. And she understands, because his death has been hardest on all of them. Gibbs has been their papa bear after all. Their kids helped them to pull through back then, even though they mourned the loss of Grampa Gibbs too, they still managed to keep the family together.

The sound of boiling kettle calls her back into the present and she wipes a single tear from her eye. She pours the boiling water into two large mugs, where she's already placed tea bags in earlier. When she carries them back into the living room, she finds him looking at a photo too. She can tell it's his favourite one – right after the one he took of her in Paris. It shows their daughter and son with their Auntie Abby and Uncle Tim on their trip to Disneyworld. All four of them grin from ear to ear and she has to chuckle before placing the two mugs on the coffee table.

He motions for her to sit down with him and gathers her hand in his.
"They grew up so fast, Ziva." His voice holds pride as well as sadness.

"Yes. But they grew up in a better home than either of us."

"That they did," he agrees and leans forward, reaching for his teacup. She put two spoons of sugar in it and he hums in appreciation as he gulps down most of the hot liquid at once.
"I love you, Sweetcheeks," he whispers softly.

"I love you too," she says back, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Mom? Who are you talking to?" comes her daughter's voice from the hallway

"Your dad. He's awfully melancholic today."

The young woman looks at her sympathetically before she kisses her lightly on the head.
"It's okay, mom. I miss him too."

She blinks a few times in confusion. He's no longer sitting next to her. She gets up and walks the few steps into the bedroom where his side is still made as if he never even slept in it, his suit still lying on top of the blue sheets. On the bedside table lies his lonely pair of glasses, next to his wallet and a picture of them on their wedding day.
Tears well up in her eyes as she takes the few shaky steps back into the living room. The TV is turned off and so is the James Bond theme. The silence weighs down heavily on her as she looks at the coffee table. Knowing what she will find there, but refusing to believe it, she bursts into tears and a heartbreaking sob escapes her lips.

His tea is untouched.

I bet you want to kill me, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't. Instead...would it be too much to ask for a review?