He missed Ziva. Even nine years later – six years after they had given up on maintaining any sort of contact with one another – there were days when he missed her like he did nothing else in the world – like missing her was his job. Had it been his job, it would've been a job he hated, a job that he had been told to quit by many of his friends, family and coworkers, but he still found that no matter how much he wanted to quit it, most days he just couldn't. Unfortunately, today was no exception.

At least the weather matched his mood today, though. The sky was overcast and gray, looking as moody as Tony felt. He and the rest of Washington D.C. was even being rained upon, albeit lightly, as he walked back to work after going out on a coffee run for his team.

The coffee carrier in his hands was the only warm thing about Tony as he alternated between jogging to get back to his warm office and going slow enough that he didn't spill the contents of the six Styrofoam cups he was carrying.

Today was not a day that felt like it wanted to be happy, and so Tony wasn't happy either. He was in one of his jogging sprints when a poster on a nearby theater caught his eye. He stopped mid-step and walked backwards towards the poster, almost completely dumping all the coffee but suddenly caring even less then he had a minute ago.

When his gaze finally focused on the poster, Tony's mouth went dry as he realized what exactly he was seeing. A poster for a ballerina's upcoming performance in the theater that had been photo-shopped to look like something out of the twenties. It was hardly the photo-shopping that caught his eye, but the lone person portrayed in the poster. Decked out in full ballerina regalia, complete with even a feather in her hair, the exotic-looking woman was frozen on the poster in a graceful pirouette, her expression the very definition of poise.

It couldn't be. But it was.

Tony cocked his head to the side, peering closer at the face of the beautiful woman in the poster, the rain falling down and coffee in his hands both long forgotten. It seemed so out of character for her to have become a ballerina, but then, wasn't that what she had always wanted when she was little?

It was her way of reclaiming some of her innocence, Tony realized as a certain facet of her expression caught his eye. She was smiling.

She wasn't really smiling; it was supposed to be a serious picture, he knew, so she wasn't actually grinning, but it was there, the barely noticeable tilt at the corner of her mouth, that certain spark in her eye that was so familiar to him. She was happy.

But there was something else there too, and Tony didn't think that it was thanks to the photo's editing. There was a look of something else about her, and at first Tony couldn't identify it. Then it hit him. Freedom.

Ziva looked… free.

Suddenly Tony found himself smiling despite the chill in the air, the gray skies, and the rain. He finally had proof that Ziva had found happiness, and that meant that he should be happy too.

Tony laughed to himself and restarted his trek back to NCIS, already wondering what his coworkers would think if they found out that he had spontaneously bought tickets to a ballet.


This is a one-shot that I've had in the back of my mind since I found out that Ziva would be leaving NCIS, and I just now decided to jot it down for you guys. Hopefully you enjoyed it! Reviews make my day, and I'd like to know how you would feel about a continuation of this. Thanks!:)

P.S. I've got a new poll up, if you guys want to take a look at it! Thanks!:)