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HOMEWARD BOUND

...

The flight could have been much smoother in Ziva's humble opinion. But compared to the hell she had endured over the last few years of her tumultuous life, it was a cake walk. Finding small creature comforts in the fact that she had a seat by the window, Ziva raised a tired hand to scoot the shade up and get a glimpse of the puffy clouds that seem to clutch onto the airplane's wing.

A serene smile teased her face. But her smile faded as she caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the window. Her hair was matted and dirty. She could feel her scalp itching from lack of care. And her face barely had any makeup on it. In fact, she could hardly remember what it was like to wear makeup. It had been so long since she had truly felt like a woman. Maybe it was the day she saw Tali for the first time. Maybe it was before that…when she had said goodbye to only man who had ever managed to make her ache for the love he gave.

Ziva suddenly slammed the shade shut. Too many vicious memories raged in her mind. She had to shut it out some way. Somehow. She turned over to her other side, clutching a blanket over her cold body in an attempt to relax. She had to sleep. She had to rid her mind of the junk. Most of all, she had to remember why she had even stepped foot on that plane in the first place.


Three days earlier…

"Tali! Breakfast!"

A little girl in short curls and a brand new checkered jumpsuit bounded into the sunlit kitchen of their Parisian apartment and headed straight for the first bar stool. She grunted and struggled to climb the stool until she felt two strong hands hoist her into the air and set her gently in the tall seat. As she turned around, she saw the beaming smile on her father's face…the same one she had seen hundreds of times before that filled her with the perfect amount of courage no matter what.

"So," Tony struck up a conversation as he returned to the stove to flip his pancakes. "Are you ready for your first day of primary school?"

"Oui!" Tali beamed. "Je suis pret!"

Tony turned around and gave her a soft glare.

Tali frowned. "I'm sorry, papa."

"No." Tony set aside his work and found his way to the seat next to his daughter. He cradled her delicate hand in his and looked her deep in the eyes, the glint of the golden star around Tali's neck suddenly making him feel quite nostalgic. "Don't apologize. Your mama would have loved to hear you speak a bit of French. It's just that I want you to know your roots. Haven't you been enjoying your tutoring lessons?"

"I guess," Tali shrugged. "French is far more beautiful a language than Hebrew or English though."

Tony sighed. He was afraid this would happen sooner or later. As a toddler, Tali's Hebrew was excellent. He couldn't help but remember the moment she had pointed to a picture of himself and Ziva and proclaimed proudly in her native tongue who she saw in the photo. But since then, taking her away from her Israeli roots had only served to lessen her knowledge of her mother's home culture. Although Ziva had many things go wrong with her family, she still loved her heritage. And deep down Tony knew she would have wanted Tali to cherish it as she did.

"Tali, why don't you give it a chance. Hey, there's no harm in loving more than one language."

"Like mama?"

"Yes," Tony tried hiding the emotion he felt stagger in his throat. "Just like your mama." Tony leaned forward, bringing Tali's forehead to his lips for a gentle kiss. He then noticed the pancakes were burning and leapt up to save them.

Tali couldn't help but giggle out loud.

"Hey, watch it young lady!" Tony warned. "Now go get some cereal from the pantry before you're late for school."


The morning had left Tony in quite a reflective mood. He couldn't seem to get Ziva off his mind. He laughed gently, thinking he never really had forgotten about her. He never would in a million years. Still, after a few years of searching it was beginning to be clearer than ever to him that Ziva had to be dead. Since becoming a contract private investigator, Tony had turned over every rock in Europe and the Middle East it felt like sometimes in order to confirm or deny if she was truly dead. Every single piece of evidence seemed to point to her death being as real as she child that had come from their love. That said, today marked a year since he had chosen to end his search. In so doing, he and Tali lived in a cheap apartment in Paris, the city Ziva loved. Tali loved it too.

As he sipped his coffee at Ziva's favorite café, Tony's phone suddenly rang at his chest. He reached inside for the item and answered curtly. "Oh, hey, Tim." He suddenly felt bad about how harsh his greeting had been. "No, yeah, today's one year since I stopped searching. I've been a mess. How's things back home? Is Abby okay?"

"Oh, they're fine."

"Not by the sound of your voice, probie."

"Tony, I'm senior field agent now. The nickname is kind of old."

"Aw, I don't know about that. But I'm sorry if you don't like it anymore."

"No, I like it…actually. It reminds me of when you and Ziva were still here."

The line fell silent for a moment.

"So," Tony broke the silence. "Have they caught the guy?"

"What guy?"

"Ronald McDonald." Tony rolled his eyes.

"What?!"

"The guy that shot Abby!"

"Oh!" Tim stuttered, "Yeah. He, um, he's behind bars as we speak. But…"

"What is it, Tim?!"

"Abby…she's leaving NCIS."

"What?!" Tony almost laughed. "You can't be serious. She'd never leave. Something pretty bad had to have happened for her to quit."

"Yeah." Tim hesitated, thinking about how much he'd miss Abby. "She felt pretty bad about Reeves. She plans to escort his body back to England and then start the charity he never was able to."

"Wow," Tony's voice caught in his throat. He wasn't sure what to say. It was so sudden. First, Abby was shot and nearly died. Now she was leaving the only thing that in Tony's eyes made her who she was…who he remembered her as.

"Well, I'll leave you alone now. I was just about to go to bed and wanted to let you know."

"Yeah, thanks, Tim. I appreciate it. Very much."

As Tony hung up the phone, his heart seemed to sink even lower. First Kate, then Jenny, his Ziva, and now Abby. Thank God Abby had lived though. Little bits of regret lingered in his shaken thoughts that he had ended his search for Ziva. It seemed like yesterday really was gone now for good.

Tony opened the photos on his phone and scanned through the ones he always kept of Ziva. "Are you out there," he whispered. "This may seem silly, but from now on I will tell you I love you every day. Life's too short to do otherwise. Besides, somehow I think you can hear me…wherever you are. Speak to me."

But for now the only voice he heard was his own.


The next day…

Brown curly locks framed the face of Mossad's latest technical engineer. For three years she had worked night and day to earn her stripes as one of the country's best forensic scientist. She'd never hold the title officially. But perhaps one of these days she'd find the answers to why it had happened. Dressed in fatigues and a thin-lipped stern frown, she pecked at the computer keys, conducting one last test for an IDF officer before she was done for the day.

"All done, Mary?" a voice from the corridor asked, tiptoeing in the room.

A beep from the computer was the answer as the brown-haired beauty smiled. "Yes, all done."

"Phew, I'm glad!" The second voice relaxed and sauntered into the room. "For a moment there I thought I'd have to have face Jacobs with another negative test."

"Well," the technician grimaced, handing the young man a sheet of paper. "It was negative again. I'm sorry."

"Oh, well it's not your fault." He ignored the piece of paper and rounded the table to view the test. "Yep. You're right."

"You'd think I'd lie?!"

"N—no. Of course not. I just don't want to face Jacobs again!" he whimpered and mumbled something off in his native Hebrew tongue.

No longer had Ziva flashed him a smile had the ground shook violently beneath them.

"They're here!" Ziva shouted, overtaking the young soldier to the ground just as the walls collapsed around them.

Debris of every kind crumbled as the explosion caused the building to cave in around them.

Barely aware of her surroundings, Ziva could only think of one day…the day she had died to the world. It couldn't happen again. Not today. In two days it would be the day. She had to live. She had to have a chance to make things right. But apparently it was not meant to be.


~ TO BE CONTINUED ~