A lot of you probably can guess how I would like to see Ziva 'exit' the show this fall. Unfortunately, I have a feeling it will be less than palatable for many of us. This is crack, but there is an element to what I believe could actually happen on the show. Just a silly piece of stuff to get me back into the writing mood.
It was a somber affair, in spite of what Abby had planned for the day. She had wanted her N'awlins jazz to and from the memorial service, but Ducky had nixed it, saying it wasn't appropriate in light of the grim reminder of Kate's loss. So she had dutifully let the dirges play as she trouped behind her men in black, thinking how it weird it was going to be to once again be the only female in their odd little family. She sniffed into her black lace handkerchief, and Gibbs squeezed her to him comfortingly.
He couldn't show his own emotions, however wrecked they were-he had to be strong for her, for Tim and Tony. Well, for her and Tim, at least.
Tony's reaction to Ziva's passing was inexplicable, and Gibbs thought that just perhaps, the younger man had finally cracked under the grief, under the weight, of losing yet another woman close to him. Tony had kept his distance from the remaining members of his team, obviously not wanting them to see him so weak and in so much pain. They had tried to be there for him, but upon their approach, he had made awful, wrenching sounds, like a cross between a hysterical sob and strangled gurgle, and so they had backed off for fear of upsetting him even further.
Over months had elapsed since the premier MCRT had disbanded and gone their separate ways, only to be reunited again to attend the funeral of one of their own. Gibbs had come back from his black ops on a transport as soon as he heard, only to find Abby and McGee desperately trying to sober up DiNozzo, who had, it seemed, been on a black ops of his own, as no one had been able to locate him for nearly the entire length of their 'hiatus'. Gibbs had been unsuccessful in getting his ex-SFA to talk about where he had been, but had managed to sober him up enough to be presentable for his partner's memorial service. He cursed himself for not being there for his team, for allowing things to unravel once again. Tony merely laughed at him, drowning in a gallon of used motor oil disguised as Gibbs' coffee and an ocean of memories from the last eight years.
"Zeeeelactinbeeee..." he crooned, standing over the toilet and peeing for what had to be the tenth time that morning. "One of the best cures for..."
"Tony, you okay in there?" Gibbs thumped on the bathroom door. How the hell much had the kid drank
in the last couple of days?
"Just fine, boss. Just dandy. Fine and dandy. Super duper. Excellent. Never been better. Tippy top."
He zipped, washed up, and met his ex-boss at the door.
"Tony..." Gibbs said quietly, putting a gentle hand to Tony's forearm. "She died a hero. You can keep that in your heart, and it maybe it won't hurt so much when you think of her."
"Yeah, right, Jethro. I can call you Jethro, now, can't I? You're not my boss anymore. Jethro, let me tell you a secret..."
"Gibbs, did you get him sober, is he alright, can he walk to the car and get through the service without falling into the grave along with her?" Abby rapid-fired at the silver-haired man, and pushed past him to give Tony a bone-crushing hug.
"She's not being buried here, Abby, I already told you, they're sending her back to Israel to be buried next to her father. We're just having a memorial service for her here."
"Too bad, how dramatic would that be, and we could all have our little 'Ziva visits us all from the grave' moments like we had with Kate, and..."
"Abs, let me by you, I have to get something to eat. All this peeing has made me really hungry."
Tony strode out of the bathroom and to the kitchen, leaving a worried looking Gibbs and Goth behind him.
"DO something, Gibbs! He's flipping out! This is the straw that broke the St. Bernard's back, he can't take anymore pain! He's thinking it should have been him instead and he's eating himself up with guilt and self-punishment! He'll never be able to work in law enforcement again, he'll end up in the gutter like his father said he would, he'll-"
"Abs, I'll take care of him. Go make sure McGee's okay, I haven't had much time to check on him since I've been back."
"Right, Gibbs, checking on McGee! Call me, let me know how he is!"
"I will, Abs, go. You do the same about McGee."
He ushered her out the door and shut it, heading to the kitchen to make sure Tony hadn't taken a header into the cast iron sink and arriving to find Tony scooping ice cream out of a round half gallon container. Well, he guessed it was better than more booze.
"Want some, boss? Er, Jethro? Rocky Road. Just like the last eight years of my work life."
"Tony?"
"Did I ever tell ya she knocked me down in Israel? Knocked me on my ass onto the concrete and put a loaded gun to my leg and chest. Had my arm in a cast, if you recall, had no way to defend myself. Then she orders you to choose between the two of us for your team, like I'm sloppy seconds instead of your second in command for the last gazillion years."
Tony stopped his raving long enough to shovel a soup spoon of ice cream into his mouth.
"And when I risk my life to come avenge her supposed death in Somalia, she yells at me and tells me I shouldn't have come." he continued, swinging the scoop around in the air and splattering Gibbs with the ice cream.
"Tony, I think you need to lie down for a while." Gibbs encouraged, taking the scoop from DiNozzo's hand and setting it in the sink. "Yer getting delusional, I think you need to rest a while."
"Zee-e-e-eva-ctinbee-e-e..."
Gibbs shook his head sadly, struggling to help his young friend onto the couch and to cover him with an afghan.
"Get my ice cream, Boss. It's melting."
"Tony..." Gibbs crouched down in front of DiNozzo, determined to make the man come to some sort of understanding. "She's gone, Tony.. nothing you could have said or done could change that.. she made her decision to go out fighting..to die saving you...don't cheapen it by worrying about your damn ice cream!"
"Didn't ask her to, Boss. Told her I could cross the street by myself to go get that breakfast burrito. She was pretty sure I couldn't, even though last week I proved to her I could actually walk and chew gum at the same time. Boy was she shocked. Anyways, she was so busy trying to push me back onto the curb, she never saw that kid on the scooter till he was on top of her. I mean like, on top of her, his front tire was all but up her nose. Everyone says she pushed me out of his way, but...well...I plead the fifth. Can I have my ice cream now?"
"Yeah, Tony." Gibbs sighed defeatedly. It seemed that his former second was beyond help, at least until they could enlist Rachael Cranston to have a few sessions with him. It was just too much, too many beloved women in his life gone before their time. Tony had finally come unglued under the pressure. How would he go on without his Ziva, his partner, his soul mate...Gibbs patted Tony's hand solicitously. "I'll getcha your ice cream. Then you sleep. It'll be better tomorrow."
"Yes indeedie, Jethro. Unless you decide to replace her with E.J or...Abby Borin." Tony shuddered. "I mean, I like Borin, but talk about getting in your face, she'd be dancing all over mine every chance she got.."
Gibbs smiled sadly, still not really understanding Tony's babble, but confident that he could help pull the younger man through this unspeakable grief. He headed for the kitchen to grab the melting Rocky Road, and heard DiNozzo mumbling happily to himself behind him. Yeah, it was gonna take some hard work, but they'd get their team mate back to rights no matter what it took.
"Just call me-e-e-e, Zilactin-B-e-e-e..." Tony sing-songed to himself. One little push was all it had taken, when the planets had aligned themselves for just once in his life and given him the perfect opportunity to rid himself of that cold sore he called Tiva.
Zilactin-B is a cold-sore remedy. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that if the writers DO kill her off, it will be saving Tony's miserable life. If they don't, how much do you want to bet they make her Assistant Director of Mossad after she gets tossed out of the U.S in lieu of prison time, and has to renounce her American citizenship?