The driver comes to a halt on the tarmac, parked in front of a small passenger plane. Her body jerks with the stop, and she turns her head from the window next to her to face forward. She saw the plane.
Her plane.
The plane that would take her to her new life.
But that's not all she sees.
There is a man standing next to the steps leading into the plane, talking with a man who seemed to be the pilot. His back is to her, but she would recognize him anywhere.
She gets out of the car as her driver heads to the trunk to grab the two suitcases she is allowed. She hears the man and the pilot laugh as she approaches, and a confusing look appeares on her face.
"Tony?"
He turns around at her, smiling wide. "Hey! Ziva. I was just talking to your pilot, Frank. Frank's a pretty cool guy, and seems to know how to work this thing, too, which is a plus," he says, and pointed to the plane behind him.
The pilot laughs and rolls his eyes, heading into the plane. "I will be inside when you're ready, Ms. David."
He leaves, and her face remains unchanged.
"Tony, what are you doing here?"
His face sinks a little.
"Well, I couldn't let you get on a plane without making sure all was well. You haven't had the greatest experience with successful international travel."
She sighed. "You want to find out where I am going, so you tried getting it out of the pilot."
"What?" he exclaimed. "Ziva David, I would never. But hey, if you're willing to tell me-"
"Tony!" she barks. "I cannot tell you. I cannot tell anyone. I said that last night when I said goodbye."
Goodbye.
The word stings him, and he flinches lightly. "Ziva," he starts.
"No, Tony. I have to go. I'm sorry I can't speak with any of you ever again, and I wish it did not have to be like this. But it is. So we deal." She begins to push past him to the stairs, and he steps in front of her, gripping her shoulder and holding her back.
"No," he says.
"Tony, stop being a child!"
"Not until I say what I want to say."
"Fine. What is it?"
He relaxes his grip. "I have a bucket list."
She looks at him incredulously. "You have a bucket list."
"Yes."
"That's what you stopped me to say? That you have a bucket list?"
He sighs. "No, Ziva, I'm not done."
"Well," she steps back and crosses her arms, "make it quick. I don't have time."
"I have a bucket list. And on that list, in the mix of many ridiculous and outlandish things, are some not-so crazy events. One in particular. One that involves you."
Her face scrunches in confusion.
"Tell her," he says.
"Tell her?"
"Tell her."
"Tony, that doesn't make any sense. Tell her wh-"
He puts a finger to her lips. "I'm not finished," he says, and removes his hand.
"'Tell her' refers to you. Tell you. I have to tell you something, something that should have been said a while back. And I need to get it out now or-"
"Get to the point, Tony," she interjects.
He gives her a small smile. I'm going to miss that, he thinks.
He begins.
"I have known you for 8 years. And for those eight years, you have been my partner. Whether the case was strange or difficult or required us to literally dig through trash, we did it together. And we've spent time off the job together to. Watching movies in the squadroom, grabbing a drink; you even gave me piano lessons that one summer, remember? So we've had our fun. A great run."
He takes a breath.
"But we've also seen horrible things. Things that still haunt us, events that will never leave the backs of our minds. People we love who have died. Friends we have lost. People we couldn't save. Hell, you were captured, and I went on a suicide mission to save you. I didn't even know if you were alive."
She relaxes under his grip, absorbing the flow of his words like the air around her.
"And we're still here. And we got through it together. We've seen the good sides and the bad sides of each other, yet here we are."
A frown begins to form on his face.
"But when you get on that plane, it's over. We won't get to work together, grab a drink, have a joke. You'll be gone. For good."
Her face softens. "Tony-" she tries.
"No," he stops her. "I'm almost done. The point is, after right now, I will never see you again. And if it's my last chance to say it, my only chance to say it, I'm not going to skip out." He takes a breath.
"Ziva David," he says. "I am in love with you."
She catches her breath.
"And I have been, for a very long time now. And I wish I had said something before. When we still had time. I wish I could have told you, and we could have made it work. I would have done everything to make it work. I wouldn't care about what Gibbs or McGee or anyone else thought or said. We could have done it. But I never took the chance. And I wish we still had time. Because, my Israeli assassin, we would have been great. We would have thrived. And this might not be happening. And I would give anything to change the way things are now, but I know there's nothing I can do. So because you're leaving forever, I wanted to let you know: I love you."
He looks at her, waiting for her to react.
She takes a moment to take it all in, every word he has just said. Suddenly, she unfolds her arms and, grabbing his shoulders, pulls her to him, and brings him to her lips
He is shocked at first, but quickly gets lost in her touch. She arms wrap around his neck, and as one hand shifter to her waist, pulling her closer, the other lifts up between them to cup her face. Seconds, minutes pass before she finally pulls away, resting her forehead against his, eyes closed. A tear escapes.
"Tony," she whispers, moving a hand to his cheek. "I will always love you."
They stand there for a moment, the emotions raw in the air around them. Neither wants to move. But she knows that she must go, and with all the power she has, she steps back from his hold.
She finally opens her eyes, and looks up at him, a small smile on her face. "I wish I could stay. I wish that would have happened earlier. But it's a two-way street, Tony. Please do not blame yourself. We both screwed up. Romantically dysfunctional, remember?"
He laughs lightly at the reference. "Right. It's gonna be hard to find someone as emotionally messed up as you, though."
Her face turns soft, and slightly weary. "I hope you do, though," she says, and turns to head to the plane.
"Ziva," he calls after her.
She turns around once more, keeping herself together before her inevitable collapse once inside.
"Gosh, DiNozzo, what is it now?" she calls out.
"I never got rid of those bikini pictures you told McGee to delete."
She smiles, her eyes watering at the memory of the photos.
"Keep them," she replies. "You'll need something to remember me by."
He laughs as she turns around to walk up the steps.
They both think about yelling "goodbye". But neither of them can. "Goodbye" means something is ending; it makes the situation real, and come to a close. Something they both didn't want to happen.
So instead they parted as if they would see each other again soon. It's painful and hard and the absolute worst feeling in the world, but it is something they will both have.
Because even though they won't be together, even though they won't have a chance to have the future they both dream of, they can have the hope that one day, they'll meet again.