"It's her birthday today," he spoke somberly, taking a deep breath of sawdust infused air and moving out of the shadow of the stairwell and into the gleam of light emanating from above the work bench while the older man to whom he addressed ceased his sanding to look upon the younger agent who had finally broken the silence after five prolonged minutes.
His senior agent had spent the better part of the day with a distracted gaze aimed toward the rain pelted window panes of the squad room, his stare only shifting to train upon the small Israeli flag nestled beside its partner of stars and stripes in the pencil holder along the edge of his desk or to the three photographs containing a bikini, fake pregnancy, and the Eiffel Tower Gibbs well knew were tucked among the sticky notes, paperclips, and pens that littered his top drawer.
Their new hire had lasted one day at Ziva's desk before returning the following morning to find her things in a pile on the floor, replaced by one brooding agent, Mighty Mouse stapler in hand. And after weeks of Tony's withdrawn stare trained upon the former home of his old partner since occupied by a string of temps prior to the now permanent fill of a certain ninja's understudy who could never quite compare, no one had questioned the sudden desk reassignment.
"Had this whole big thing planned- fancy clothes, romantic dinner, moonlit stroll along the Potomac…" he paused as he wandered to the far wall to lean against the counter. "All sounds kinda silly now. Don't even think she would have cared for all that chivalrous crap. A night in with pjs, takeout and a movie woulda made her smile just as much… I don't know… thought this year I might actually man up enough to do all that."
Gibbs merely smiled softly in acknowledgement.
"Family and job," Tony spoke quietly, raising the mug and mason jar he had examined what felt like a lifetime ago in either hand. "I thought that with Ziva, maybe… when she was ready… Guess I outta buy some stock in bourbon and sandpaper. Heard it's a great consoler of the soul."
"Thought I told you not to be like me. Learn from it. Gotta move on DiNozzo."
"You ever move on from Shannon?"
Gibbs paused and unscrewed the cap off the bottle of bourbon beside him, refilling his jar. "I don't know. Pain's always there. That emptiness. Never goes away. But you wake up each day and you remember that what you do is important. And makes a difference to people. And I know that right now none of that seems to matter, but it does. Maybe it'll take years for you to see that, but eventually you wake up one morning and it hurts just a little bit less. Or maybe it doesn't; hurts just as much. But you realize you gotta keep living."
"…It hurts that loving her wasn't enough to make her come home." His voice was scarcely audible as he migrated, jar in hand, toward the work bench and poured himself a share of the pungent liquor.
"If Ziva had had a choice DiNozzo, there wouldn't be almost 6,000 miles between you right now. She's still out there, walking and breathing. Long as you got that to hold on to, she'll always be here," he tapped above his chest pointedly. "And if she's always here, you're always connected. When the time's right, you'll see each other again."
"And if that's not till years from now?" Tony questioned, tipping back his glass and grimacing at the burn that chased the liquid down his throat.
"Then you've got years to make a difference in a whole lotta people's lives."
Some sad Gibbs/Tony talk. I wanted to be realistic with this cause I know Ziva's not gonna be coming back with him to DC, but I really really don't like sad endings to fics so I was considering writing a part two to this thing where Tony goes back to his apartment and Ziva's there. Thoughts?