A/N: Hello my amazing readers! I haven't written anything Tiva related in ages but once I saw the post on Tumblr with the prompt, inspiration struck. I experimented with a different writing style in this story and I hope it's readable.
Please note that I have no knowledge of opera music so if you spot any mistakes, feel free to point them out. Politely.
As always, a huge thank you goes to my beta Quen.
This is the first of many stories that I plan on publishing and updating this summer. (Hopefully)
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my mistakes.
Enjoy!
Ziva knows it's Tony the moment the heavy velvet curtains are drawn and he enters the small private room.
She can't tell if it's because of her Mossad training or the fact that they were in each others presence almost 24/7 for 8 years.
Either way, she's happy she has a few seconds to herself before he takes a seat next to her, as she doesn't want him to see the relief on her face or hear her release the breath she had been holding all day.
(And if you ask her, she won't tell you that the possibility of him not showing up due to a tough case that the team was working on, made her physically ill.)
He doesn't acknowledge her as he takes the vacant seat on her left. He does the exactly same thing that he did the previous year, (when he first sat next to her while she was listening to the lyrics of "Gianni Schicchi" on Tali's birthday anniversary, taking her by surprise and rending her speechless.) He takes her left hand, drops a chaste kiss on her knuckles before placing their now interlocked hands on his chest, right above his rapidly beating heart. (She tries to fight back all the memories that the gesture brings back. She fails).
Like the last time, she doesn't pay much attention to the play. The way that her hand is a perfect fit for his larger, warmer one along with his frantic heartbeat that matches her own and all the thoughts swimming in her head, don't leave much room for high notes and second acts.
Instead, she thinks about everything and anything.
She thinks about their first meeting, their first undercover job (and first kiss) and the numerous cases that followed. She remembers the nights they spent watching various movies at her place, after Gibbs quit NCIS. (She was by herself in a foreign country and her team members were all friendly, Tony being the most).
She recalls the pain that threatened to cut her in half when she saw Tony's car blow up (and for those few hours where they thought that he was dead) and the relief she felt when they found out that he was alive, which was like much needed oxygen. Or when Bodnar hit Tony's car one second before she was about to reveal to him that he was indeed the man that deserved her love.
She tries to forget the jealousy she felt when Tony was involved with Jeanne and Agent Barrett (even though she was with Ray at the time). She does want to remember though, his jealousy when she was involved with both Michael and Ray or when he found out that McGee was helping her track Bodnar.
She also brings to mind cities that before she joined NCIS and met Tony were simply that, cities, but now they mean entirely different things. Paris reminds her of shared king sized beds and drunken kisses. (They both know that neither of them were that drunk. A little tipsy maybe, but sober enough that they were very much aware of the line that they were crossing).
Berlin has its own share of shared beds but it's more about flashbacks of crappy childhoods, slow dancing and life altering realisations about things that her heart already knew to be true, it was just her mind who was too stubborn to admit.
And then there's Somalia, where she was left for dead until Tony decided avenging her death was worth the risk of being kidnapped by a terrorist group. His answer to her questions about why he did so, "I couldn't live without you, I guess", accompanied by a shrug of his shoulders, haunt her dreams more often than the horrible things she went through while in captivity.
A captivity caused by her own father, a person who affected her life more than a father should. And just maybe, his death was a turning point in hers and Tony's friendship? Relationship? Whatever it was (and still is), it remains complicated. (Or so she tells herself because she doesn't want to admit that everything would be pretty simple if only she decides to let them be, if only she takes that extra small step and says those extra few words. If only she lets her heart finally win in the never ending battle between what her heart really wants and what her mind tells her she should want).
Finally, she thinks of the decision that brought them here, the decision she made last year and how much it has affected Tony's life too besides her own. Of how every time she wakes up alone and miserable, she has to convince herself that she deserves it after all the pain and destruction that she has caused.
She just doesn't know for how much longer she can pretend that she's okay with hating herself and making other people suffer in the process. (The answer is one more year).
She becomes aware of the fact that she's crying when she feels Tony's fingertips softly brushing a few teardrops away. She dares to look at him and she finds that his own blue eyes are filled with unshedd tears and that he's looking at her knowingly, a look that she's been in the receiving end of only a couple of times.
His stare is suddenly too much so she gives him a tight smile and goes back to watching the play. Almost immediately, she realises that Tony had dropped his grip on her left hand to wipe her tears away but as if he's read her mind, he gets hold of her left hand, intertwines their fingers and lays it once again on his chest, above his heart.
The rest if the play passes quickly and soon enough they're exciting the Opera House. Tony still hasn't let go of her hand, if possible, his grip is even tighter, (not that she's complaining) and he hails a cab and Ziva follows him, never exchanging one single word. He gives the cab driver the address of the hotel he's staying and Ziva just rests her head on the space where shoulder meets neck and closes her eyes while holding on his hand for dear life.
The next time she opens her eyes, the cab has stopped and Tony is slightly shaking her shoulder. They pass by the front desk (Ziva pretends not to notice the smile that the receptionist shoots Tony) and get inside the elevator.
Elevators are another thing she associates with Tony. There have been one too many moments between them in the confidence of the small space or any other small space for that matter.
She hears a ding which signals their arrival on his floor. They take turn after turn until he stops in front of a door and he lets go of her hand to get hold of his room card (she tries to mask the emptiness that she feels. She's not very successful). He opens the door and looks at her with a mix of excitement, hope, plead and one more emotion that she's too afraid to name. (It's called love).
She has made her decision hours ago so she walks past him and enters the room.
The next year, he shows up at the Opera House of Cairo on the anniversary of Tali's birthday as well as on her birthday, (with a bottle of bourbon and a dozen stories to tell and a desire to listen to anything she has to say, even if sometimes that's just a series of breathless moans and a repeat of his name, over and over again until she's left gasping for air), until she finally decides that enough is enough and that she can't live on stolen moments forever. So for once they talk, with complete honesty, voicing their dreams and desires.
He quits his job (she has inherited enough money from her father that neither of them will ever have to work again), and they travel the world together and have all the moments that they've ever wanted and only go back to DC a handful of times with one of them being a few months before death claimes them both, one sunny afternoon, in each others arms, proving to everyone that in the end, not even death could keep them apart.
Tiva is my otp so I had to write a happy ending. I just couldn't help myself.
So, what do you think? Love it? Not love it? Feel free to tell me!
Until next time
~F