Dog Years, a ncis fanfic

Hi all! I can't believe I'm still here writing and posting Tiva fanfics in 2019... This is not my first fic but it is my first one in years + I haven't watched NCIS consistently since Michael left so please be gentle, lol. The title and the last line are pulled from the song Dog Years because it always makes me think of these two. Alright, let's get to it.

In which Ziva returns to Tony.

And there she stood, in the middle of the bathroom. The bathroom in the very home she grew up in, where she was born, where— no, she cut the thought off before it could even properly form. With a shake of her head, her eyes focused back in on the little white stick she held clenched in a death grip, admittedly only to ensure her hands wouldn't shake.

How had she gotten here? Ziva David, in all her fiercely-independent glory, frozen under the bathroom lights that suddenly seemed too bright for her eyes, alone. Ziva reminded herself that this solitude was self-imposed, she had no one else to blame. Still, all she wished for in that moment was to not be standing there alone. Not technically alone she thought, and it felt as though someone had poured ice water through her veins. She let out a twisted chuckle that sounded almost like a sob. And then, another familiar voice rang in her mind.

At lo levad.

You are not alone.

At lo levad.

And then, that twisted chuckle turned into a genuine sob as she finally crumbled in on herself and the dam burst open.

It had been about 3 days now since Ziva discovered she was pregnant. Well, technically 2 days, 18 hours, and some assortment of minutes. Not that she was counting or anything. Pregnant- the word hung heavy, even in the confines of her own mind it rattled around, taunting her, over and over.

Ziva stared at her phone for what felt like the millionth time that morning; as if she could will it to ring, as if he should just know, as if she could just keep running. As if.

Yes, it would be easier on him if she just stayed away, if she had meant what she said when she told him leave and I need to do this alone. And yes, she knew that she could do this alone, knew that this would be complicated.

But, somehow, she made herself forget all these points as she willed her fingers to scroll to their intended contact. Because honestly, this wasn't just about her, or Tony, or even her and Tony anymore. Because, suddenly, there was a 3rd player in their game and this terrified Ziva more than she could even begin to comprehend. And deep down, Ziva knew that Tony had meant it when he told her that he could change with her. So, acting quickly, before she could talk herself down, Ziva hit call.

She sat on the edge of her couch in her childhood home with her phone held tightly in both hands as she waited for the first ring to sound. Ziva chided herself for how nervous she felt and realized that the scene felt strangely similar to the one in the bathroom just days prior. She wondered vaguely how much this international call would cost, making a mental note to pay him back for it somehow. As she waited for his voice to interrupt the rings, Ziva felt her mind begin to roar with an ambush of thoughts.

Burden, broken, mistake.

Family, life, change.

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

The sound of the first ring snapped her back to the reality she hadn't realized she'd left. Ziva bounced her leg up and down impatiently, anxiously, as she waited. She had spent the last few days imagining this moment. What would she say? What would he say? The traditional "hi, how are you?" seemed too... normal. Was this really the best way to tell him? Well, a quick google search offered Ziva no help either as apparently there is no proper tell-your-'it's-complicated'-partner-you're-pregnant-with-their-child etiquette. But lastly, the question that had been burning her alive for the last 2 days and 18 hours: should she even tell him at all?

Ziva felt... guilty. She had never meant to put him in this position, making him choose, holding him back, robbing him of his shot at an authentic American Dream. He is a good man she reminded herself. He is a good man and he deserves better, she amended.

This internal turmoil scratched at her resolve, but it was too late.

Because this was Ziva, who needed to change, who wanted to bring joy rather than sadness. This Ziva, who wanted something permanent, who had dreamt of a boy and a girl her whole life.

And Tony, oh Tony. This Tony, who feared children and commitment despite desperately wanting his own white picket fence in suburbia. Tony, who had proven more times than necessary that he would do anything for her. This man who was fighting for her, who wanted to change with her. This man who, self admittedly, couldn't live without her.

And Ziva knew, had known for a while if she was being honest, that's she could not live without him, either.

Try as she may, Ziva could not see a world in which her child, their child, did not know its father. She could imagine it so vividly, a future scene. Their child, with Tony's love of movies and sense of humor but also her wild coffee curls, and deep brown eyes. Ziva saw the little curls bob as their child ran through the olive grove, the child's eyes lit up at the prospect of an ice cream cone, the two adults with their child in tow settling down for a movie night... This hypothetical child knew nothing but love, of that she was sure.

The sound of her own name drew her away from her daydream and her breathing stopped as she heard her name again.

"Ziva, are you alright?"

The sound of his voice shocked her and for one moment, Ziva considered ending the call before she'd said anything.

It is not too late to back out.

Except it is, and you know that.

The silence stretched on as Ziva took in the rhythmic sound of his breaths. She could almost feel his concern through the phone and suddenly she felt sick.

"Tony, - "

"Ziva, thank god. What's going on? Are you okay? McGee's tracing you, he should have your location by now. MCGEE- "

"Tony, I am fine. Really. I was hoping we could... talk."

Silence.

"Yeah, of course. I'd love to talk. What's on your mind, David?" The slight sarcasm in his tone gave him away and Ziva could tell that this wasn't quite what he'd expected, she could feel that he was getting nervous. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the threat of tears burn behind her lids. Ziva allowed herself to silently count to five and collect herself before opening her eyes and speaking once again.

"I... I think I would like to come back to visit DC, see some family..." she felt herself trailing off, her words becoming quieter. Ziva forced the next words out before she lost her resolve. "And fix some things."

Her heart was pounding hard, the sound and feel overwhelming her senses. The continuous whoosh in her ears sounding more and more like a mantra of run, run, run as silent seconds ticked by.

"You know that you're always welcome, Ziva. Everyone would love to see you." If he thought that his usage of everyone rather than I was lost on her, he was wrong. She wiped away a single tear that had fallen and nodded once.

"I know." She retorted, meekly.

"Do you need help getting a flight? We could probably still get you on a flight out, even though, you know, you're not technically Navy anymore." She wondered if he knew that this question felt like a knife twisted in her heart. She wanted to yell, to tell him she could still be if she wanted to be, that this was her choice. But these facts felt like a slap in her face because it was her choice to leave and to stay in Israel and to be alone, and suddenly she lost all fight.

"That is not necessary, I will fly as everyone else does."

"Yeah, okay, well those seats are comfier anyway."

Silence, again.

"So... when were you thinking?" His question caught her off guard, she hadn't even considered this key point in her plan.

Lamely, Ziva admitted "I do not know"

SOON, her mind screamed.

"I have not booked a flight or hotel yet, so I suppose it will depend on that availability." And if she thought that her mention of hotel was lost on him, she was wrong. If she listened closely, Ziva could hear slight motion on the other line and she assumed that Tony had walked over to the hidden alcove, in search of some semblance of privacy.

"Okay. You know that you have options of places to stay here too, right? I mean, you know how Abby gets, she's probably itching for a girls night, and –"

Ziva had to cut him off, the emotion in his voice giving away the double meaning of his words still ringing in her head. Stay with me, stay with me. "Thank you, Tony" she offered up, avoiding the unspoken question. "I will let you know when I have made reservations, then"

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Ziva ran a hand through her curls as she looked at the screen of her laptop she'd pulled open earlier. Her mouse hovered over the confirmation button as she realized that this was her last chance to back out. Her finger dropped down and the sound of the single click felt more like a punch to her gut. A moment later, Ziva found herself staring at her confirmation page numbly.

Ziva stared out her tiny airplane window as she could begin to see the familiar DC skyline appear. A comforting feeling spread through her as she anticipated the early autumn air that would greet her when she stepped off the plane. The comfort she was feeling, however, was quickly replaced with nervousness as she thought of the man likely already waiting for her arrival.

She had told him not to come to the airport, of course. Tried to insist, even. Her flight was arriving in the middle of a Tuesday and, as she had pointed out, he must be all out of vacation days at this point. Still, her determination had stood no match for his as he vowed to pick her up and, although she wouldn't admit it, she was thankful for his promise.

The jolt of airplane wheels connecting with solid ground shook her out of her daydream and back to reality. Her fingers slipped from their place on the window and her eyes began to dart around, calculating the fastest way to disembark. Her hand absentmindedly made its way to her abdomen and nimble fingers began to toy with the sweater covering her skin. She had not been able to settle on when or howto tellTony despite the fact that she had thought of little else since she found out she was pregnant.

Ziva worked her way off the plane in a haze, all previous thoughts of haste forgone. Stopping by the restroom to splash some cold water on her face. She met her own eyes in the mirror and could see the internal turmoil reflected back. She only hoped that Tony would not be able to read her that easily, that she could keep pretending that everything was normal for just a few more moments... But she was so tired of pretending, after all these years. And for what? Where had their pretenses and games ever gotten them?

She heard her own words then, words written long ago, echo through her mind.

I fight and I kick and I scream and I feel. And that is good. It is good to let it in. It is good to feel. Because feeling brings me power. Feeling is what makes me realize that the savior I have been waiting for, is me.

She had made up her mind.

She found herself standing behind him, not remembering how she had willed her legs to take the steps, the people and shops she passed nothing more than a blur in her memory. He was staring up at the arrivals board, she noted, still unaware of her presence. She allowed herself a moment to take him in this way, to observe him without his knowledge. Admittedly, there was not much she could discern from her position. He looked tense, she could almost feel it radiating off him.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and tapped his shoulder.

He spun around fast, and she found herself staring into deep green pools before she'd had time to process how she got there. They stood there together, frozen in place, just staring at the other. The weight of his stare grew as he tried to read her. Stop him, she thought, not here.

Ziva tilted her head slightly and offered up a genuine smile. The one she received in return caused the air to catch in her throat.

"Tony," she breathed, "thank you for being here."

"Nowhere else I'd rather be" if she thought his gaze was heavy before, it was crushing now. Despite her heart rate increase, she refused to let on how much his words had touched her, shaken her. "Besides, definitely beats paperwork."

She let out a soft chuckle, thankful for his effort to lighten the mood. They stood frozen for several moments longer before he reached for her suitcase, threw her one of those smiles, and said; "c'mon, let's get outta here."

We will be alright, she thought before falling in step with him.

Phew, there we go, hope everyone enjoyed! I had a hard time deciding where to end this story in a way that felt complete so I will probably revisit this with a second chapter at some point if there is any interest.