A/N: I have so much to tell you all because it feels like I've been gone ages (I have been, actually). My life has been quite hectic the past few months, for starters I graduate high school in less than five months, I was accepted into a fabulous college, I am officially legal in the United States (as far joining the military, getting a tattoo, and marrying without parental consent -none of which I plan on doing) . . . I've also had quite a time with writer's block, which, as most of you know, is dreadful. I realize Unyielding has not been updated and that is because it has taken a major hit with my muse's abandonment, but I'm working hard to get the little slacker (my muse, not the story -it's my fault about the story) back to work. I've truly missed FF and all you and I hope to be back now that my last semester of high school has started (and I have a little more down time -hopefully). Anyway, waiting patiently on tonight's episode of NCIS, of course; and it better be good (last week's was lovely). However, I suppose if tonight doesn't quite go as hoped, we can always rewrite it, hm? :^) Until the very near future, keep the peace and so much love, Kit!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, if I did, I wouldn't be battling off senioritis with a broom at the moment. And, PS, this has nothing to do with the band hellogoodbye.
"HELLO, GOODBYE"
She finds him in the break room, stirring sugar into a Styrofoam cup of stale coffee that Gibbs won't even touch. He's humming absently to himself, some vaguely familiar song she's sure she heard on the radio this morning. She's about to announce her presence when he asks without glancing over his shoulder if she'd like a cup of coffee.
"No, thank you, Tony," she says politely, slipping further into the room, pulling a chair from the table and sinking down onto the molded plastic. He joins her a moment later, occupying the spot across from her, offering her an Oreo from the package he probably coerced from the vending machine. She accepts, if only because she'd already declined the coffee, and expertly separates the top cookie from the cream filling, popping it into her mouth.
He regards her over the rim of his cup, making a face when he takes his first sip because, yeah, this stuff definitely constitutes the term swill.
"Don't you want to hear about Ray?" she asks suddenly after she swallows. "You usually give the first degree."
"Third degree," he corrects automatically, placing his coffee back on the table and fishing out the second Oreo. "So, what did CI-Ray have to say?"
"He asked me to marry him," she says with all the delicacy of a blunt force object. "He got down on one knee with a ring and everything."
And at this point, Tony's just trying hard to chew and swallow without choking. It's kind of hard to breath all of the sudden and he think his heart may just palpitate out of his ribcage. "Congratulations, Ziva," he finally manages, standing up shakily to give her a hug. She rises from her seat as well, but leans back, fending off his advance.
"Aren't you going to ask me what happened next?" she asks, literally force-feeding him his lines. And all he can do is repeat dumbly, "What happened next?"
Her dark eyes are suspiciously shiny, he now notices, as he peers down at her. Somehow, despite her retreat of an inch or so, they've wound up toe to toe, with her chin tilted up toward him and him gazing at her expectantly.
"He asked me to marry him," she recounts matter-of-factly, "And I said no."
