A/N: This story marks majorly uncharted territory for me. It's the first time I've ever written a Tony/Ziva story. But it's a thank-you oneshot for Shywriter who stepped in as a backup for the NFA Secret Santa Exchange, and I did my best with it. It's set in the current season and is my attempt at figuring out how things could progress from Ziva's departure episode.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters. I'm making no money off this story.

A Star Far Away
by Enthusiastic Fish

He could still feel her from the last time he'd seen her. It wasn't enough to know that she was okay, that she'd left of her own accord. It just wasn't enough.

He could hear her voice as she left him.

He could smell the sandalwood fragrance that she had often worn.

He could see the sadness in her eyes before he had walked away.

Now, months later, he was staring out at nothing. He had tried to forget her. He really had. Or at least, he had tried to forget about what he had felt. It wasn't as though they'd ever done anything beyond dance around each other's feelings, never on the same page at the same time. What was the point? That's what he had told himself. A single kiss really wasn't enough to constitute a relationship. It wasn't a relationship. It was years of dancing. There was no point in dwelling on it, on her.

No point at all.

So why in the world was he sitting in his apartment, staring at his television, thinking about her?

Even as he asked the question, he knew what the answer was.

It was the messages he still got occasionally. The messages he never told anyone about because he selfishly wanted to keep them to himself. They were his. Nevermind that the others had worried about her.

He had loved her.

She hadn't ever said that to him, not really, and he hadn't really said it to her, either, but that didn't mean that they didn't feel it. If she didn't feel anything for him, why would she have sent him messages, letting him know that she was fine?

Tony,

I hope you have a good Christmas. I will confess to missing winter in DC. Even though it is hardly a place for cold, snowy winters, it is still something that I became accustomed to through the years at NCIS.

Ziva

That was the last message. Short, the content was almost non-existent, but it was something from her. Just like the others.

He looked at the message and sighed. Christmas.

Then, he looked at the coffee table. The star of David glittered there, shining as if by its own light. There it was, and he wished it was far away from him, around her neck. That was where it belonged, where he wanted to put it...if only he could. He had tried to get her to let him help her on her new path, but she had refused him. Not him, exactly, but his help.

Leaving him with what? A necklace, a life that was still not in balance and the feeling of an unfinished story.

And that wasn't right.

He wanted to fix that, to finish the story...but in the way he wished it could end. He didn't want the depressing "learn a valuable life lesson" ending. That wasn't fair. He wanted the movie ending. ...well, the right movie ending. The kind you got in the cheesy chick flicks that he didn't ever watch. The guy is supposed to get the girl, not sit alone staring at nothing.

His phone rang. He looked at it and smiled a little. Every so often, Tim would still worry and try to pry. Tony appreciated it, even if he'd never admit it.

"McGee, I'm busy."

"Doing what? Or are you going to lie to me and forget that I can figure out exactly where you are?"

Tony grinned. "I won't lie, and that app is probably illegal, you know."

"You're one to talk about doing things that are illegal."

"I'm still busy."

Tim's voice lost the probing tone. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah...but thanks."

"Okay. Tony..."

"Don't go there, McGee. Not now."

"Because you already have?"

It was funny how they didn't really say it, didn't really address it, even though it was all that they were talking about when Tim got into his mother hen mode.

"We're not going there."

"Fine. See you next week."

"Bye."

Tony hung up and sighed. He really should move on, but he couldn't, not with the story unfinished.

As he sat there in his apartment, the only thing really holding his attention was the star. He didn't touch it, didn't pick it up, but it was the only thing that mattered.

By the time two a.m. rolled around, he knew that it was time to give up on his thoughts and sleep. He started to get up, but his phone rang. He sat down and answered quickly, thinking that it would be a case. Why else would he be getting a call at this time of night? Not even Tim was that nosy.

"DiNozzo."

"Hello, Tony."

The voice he hadn't heard in months, and suddenly, it was like she was right there, sitting across from him. He stared at the necklace and then reached out and picked it up.

"Ziva," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "It's been a while."

"Yes, it has."

She was equally noncommittal. They were both testing the waters.

"Why are you calling me at two in the morning?"

"Oh...I forgot the time would be different for you. If I woke you, I can..."

"No, no. You're not getting away that easily," Tony said before she could finish. "I was awake already."

The star lay on his fingers and he began rubbing it gently with his thumb.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Why are you calling?"

"I wanted to...see how you were doing. You never respond to my letters."

"There's not much to respond to, you know."

"Yes, I know."

Her voice was the same, but Tony wanted more than her voice.

"Ziva?" He loved to say her name...when she was there to hear it.

"Yes?"

"Where are you?"

"A few hours to the east of you."

"Okay, you aren't going to tell me that. I could get McGee to trace your call."

"Yes, you could."

No need to say that Tony wasn't going to tell anyone about this call. They both knew it.

"Describe yourself, then. If you're not going to tell me where you are, let me know what you look like."

There was a soft chuckle. "I look the same as I have, Tony. I have not changed."

"I'll bet you're not wearing the same clothes. Tell me."

"Why?"

"I want to see you."

"Very well." There was a sound of her taking a breath, looking at her surroundings, at herself. It was quiet on her end of the line...which was good. "I am wearing a scarf."

"That's it? Pretty sexy."

"That is not all, Tony. Take your mind out of the gutters," Ziva said with a hint of irritation.

"Just one."

"One what?"

"Gutter. You haven't been speaking much English lately?"

Ziva laughed. "We will not talk about that. The scarf is very soft wool. Pashmina. Many colors in a simple square pattern. It was a gift from a friend. Beneath the scarf, I am wearing a white t-shirt. Nothing fancy. It is morning and I am relaxing."

"Jeans? Cargo pants?"

"No. I think you call them yoga pants? I do not do yoga in them."

Tony laughed. "I can't picture you doing yoga, although I bet you're flexible enough."

"I suppose. My feet are bare."

"Your hair?"

"It is as it always is. Curly. Unmanageable, but I have not done anything with it this morning."

Tony closed his eyes and easily brought the image to his mind. Instead of sitting alone in a dark apartment, Ziva was now sitting beside him as they talked on the phone. He kept his eyes closed and imagined that she was just barely not touching him.

"Is that enough, Tony?"

"Plenty."

She was curled up on the couch, her bare feet not touching him, not touching the floor.

"Why did you call me?" he asked.

"Because...I wanted to talk to you."

"Why? You said you had to do this alone."

"And I was right. I do, but that does not mean I must be completely isolated."

"It doesn't? That's my interpretation of alone."

"I am not surprised."

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Not much."

"What?"

Now, she seemed hesitant. Before, she had been speaking with the same confidence he had usually seen in her. That had changed suddenly.

"Tell me, Ziva. What did you want to say to me?"

"I have been...thinking."

"About what?"

"About my new life, about the things that I want to change, about...who I will be."

"And?"

"And there is a part of my life that I do not want to keep the same as it was."

"Only one part?" Tony asked with a smile.

In his mind's eye, he saw Ziva roll her eyes at his levity.

"Tony, I grew up in a family where emotion was sacrificed for a greater good. There was always something else more important. Always. My father was trying to fix that...in the only way he could, while still being the man I had so many problems with. He is dead and I cannot go any further with those problems. ...but there is someone else that I have a chance to...to be different with."

Tony sat up, but still kept his eyes closed. He turned toward where he saw Ziva.

"Meaning?"

"I could not say it before, not completely. It was too hard, but as I have been thinking of this new life I wish to have... I will say it now. Tony, I love you."

"I know," Tony said, even as his heart began do backflips in his chest. ...but they were wild, uncontained backflips. Any moment, he might land on his neck and snap it.

"Good, because I wished to say it, but I hoped it would not be a surprise. I hope that you feel as you did when you kissed me."

"Does this mean you're coming back?"

"No. Not now. There is more I must do. I hope that there is a time when I can, but...it is not now."

"So...why tell me?"

"Because I wish to be honest and because...I lied to you."

"About what?"

There was a soft knock on his door. The image of Ziva vanished as Tony opened his eyes.

It couldn't be.

He walked to the door and opened it.

There she was.

For a long moment, he just stared. Then, he smiled.

"Yep, you did lie."

"Yes, I am sorry."

"You're definitely not in bare feet...and I should have known that you'd never be wearing yoga pants."

Ziva looked down at the sturdy boots and jeans she was wearing and then she smiled at him. She turned off her phone.

"Can you forgive me?"

He turned off his own phone.

"You're not really back, are you."

"No. I am here...now, but I cannot stay, not yet. That part was not a lie."

"Ziva...are we on the same page here?"

"I do not know. What page are you on?"

"The same one I was on in Israel."

"I am not quite to that page yet. You read faster than I."

"Nah, I just skip ahead to the good parts. You could join me."

Ziva smiled.

"I am not sure that I am ready to."

"Come inside," he said softly. "Please."

She nodded. When she took off her coat, he saw the scarf she had described.

"Ah, the scarf wasn't a lie."

"No. It was not."

Tony took her by the hand and pulled her to his couch. Then, he gestured for her to sit where he had imagined her. Then, he picked up the necklace where he had dropped it and held it out. Ziva made no move to take it. Tony undid the clasp and gently fastened it around her neck.

"It looks better there."

Ziva felt the necklace and smiled wistfully.

"I am not quite at that page yet."

Tony could see it in her. This was a visit. This was not coming home. There was still too much more for her to do. He knew it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to do more, from wanting to show her more than just that.

"You don't have to be on the page. I'll read it for you. I'm there," he said.

Then, he kissed her. It wasn't the desperate kiss they had shared in Israel. It was a gentler, deeper kiss. It wasn't long, either. When they parted, Ziva leaned against him.

"I cannot go farther than that," she said, stroking the necklace. "I cannot see further."

"I can."

"I know, but you must wait until I can as well. I will not fix things by force. You cannot fix them for me," she said firmly.

"I know." He could admit it, even if he didn't like it.

"Good."

They sat in silence.

"How long?" Tony asked.

"As long as it takes," she said. "I cannot be more exact. Can you wait or is that too much to ask?"

Tony thought about it, really thought about it. No matter what he said, he knew she'd be gone again. Could he really wait or was it just that he wanted to be able to?

He pulled back and looked her. The hardness was almost gone from her eyes, but that didn't remove the surety and confidence she carried with her. It's just that it was tempered with other things. Parts that were just now developing, possibly for the first time. He didn't ask her how she was going about creating her new life, but he could see that she was doing it.

...and she'd be worth it.

Slowly, he nodded.

"Thank you," she said.

That was all. They sat together on the couch and fell asleep in each other's arms.

...but in the morning when Tony woke up, Ziva was gone.

And the star was wrapped around his hand.

On the table, there was a note.

Tony,

Thank you. Merry Christmas.

Love, Ziva

He looked at it and smiled. Never one to use two words when she could use one instead.

"Merry Christmas," he said softly.

Alone again, but now, instead of reminder of what he couldn't have, the star was a sign of what would be coming. Some day.

That was better.

He could wait.

Ziva would be worth waiting for.

...and apparently, she had decided that he was worth waiting for, too.

He looked at the star once more and stroked it. Then, he set it down and lay back down on the couch. He closed his eyes.

...and imagined Ziva there.

FINIS!