Torn
Rifiuto: Non Miriena
Summary: The sight- the mere thought- of them together tore at her heart. Implied McGiva. Angst.
There he is.
Sitting at the coffeeshop, his laptop open, his attention fully focused on whatever he was working on. Most likely another novel. She so hoped for an in-depth Lisa/MacGregor romance.
Even from this distance, she could tell it was him, and quickly, she bundled up, tieing her scarf in a knot at her neck and rushing from her apartment. The fact that she lived directly across from the coffeeshop he frequented was no mere act of voyeurism. She loved that coffeeshop, it was the whole reason she picked the apartment in the first place. Finding out McGee spent a good majority of his free time there was just an added bonus.
Her feet carried her down three flights of stairs, her mind going to all the wonderful things they would be doing once they returned to her apartment. Her mind briefly flashed towards the gutter variety- strong hands, running over soft skin and tangling in dark hair; lips, drawing shivering trails down hot skin; sheets tangling about their bodies as they gave in to the passion that they had been denying for years.
From the moment they had met, she'd been drawn to him- sure, there had been an intial draw to Tony, but over time, that schoolgirl crush had turned into sibling love. He was the annoying older brother she had never had. She'd had Ari, but there had been nothing annoying about him. Tony had taken over that role; poking fun at her, becoming protective of her around Ray and other men, even going so far as to call her 'sis' when they were alone. But Tim...
Tim was something altogether different. He'd initally been the only one to look at her and speak to her like she wasn't taking every last trace of Kate away from them, wiping her clean of their memories. Tony, Gibbs, Abby, had all originally resented her, especially when they discovered she was the sister of the man who had stolen Kate's life in the short burst of a single gunshot across that rooftop. But Tim; Tim had looked at her and seen the conflict within her dark eyes: to believe them, or believe in her brother. He himself would wear that same look a year later, when Sarah was charged with murder.
Yes, Tim McGee had looked at her with a gaze of acceptance, and over the years, they had become good friends. Such good friends that late night, impromptu dinners had often taken place, swapping apartments, sharing cooking duties, often ending with cuddling on the sofa or dancing to music. Occasionally, they would end up sharing coffee and talking about writing, or what they'd planned for their futures before their lives had taken the turns they had. They'd talk about what they wanted for the future, occasionally sharing a kiss or caress before parting ways. And they'd continued this little dalliance at work, sharing glances or silent messages by way of ASL, e-mail or chance meetings in the men's room.
But all of that had changed after Somalia.
He and Tony had come, had saved her, had brought her home, and she had been grateful, but whenever she'd tried talking to Tim about it, he would shut down. Come to think of it, whenever she tried to get anywhere near Tim, he would shut down. Pull away, and ignore her, as though she didn't exist. He would disappear at odd times during the day, or dash off after getting off work, to return the next morning semi-relaxed, as though Somalia had never happened. Tony would tease him about having a girlfriend, to which he would just stare at him and raise an eyebrow, then shake his head and return to work, a small smile on his face. She often bristled at the mention of any girlfriend, certain that no woman could make him happy like she could.
She rushed from the apartment, heading out into the chilly autumn air, pulling on her gloves and heading for the coffeeshop. She stopped at the light, waiting to cross, when something caught her eye. She craned her neck to see, catching sight of a dark-haired woman and little girl entering the shop. They looked familiar, but she couldn't tell who they were by the back. As she headed across the street, she watched as they made their way through the coffeeshop.
And towards Tim.
She headed for the door, passing by the window, in time to see Tim look up, a grin lighting his face. He pushed his chair away from the table, reaching out for the littel girl, who eagerly climbed onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then, he turned his gaze to the woman, and smiled. She rushed into the coffeeshop as the woman leaned down for a kiss.
Removing her gloves, she quickly stuffed them into her coat pocket, tightening her ponytail as she made her way towards McGee's table. Her heart began to flip as she got closer, but suddenly, it and time seemed to stop as she watched in silent shock. Tim and the woman were sitting side by side, the little girl on his lap, and he was slipping a ring onto her finger. He whispered something to her, which she returned, and then leaned close, taking her lips in a soft kiss, smiling. She giggled, reaching up to take his face in her hands. The ring glinted in the light of the coffeeshop.
An engagement ring.
"Ziva!" She snapped out of her shock at the child's cry. When she looked up, the girl was rushing towards her, throwing her small arms around the older woman's legs.
"Amira!" Ziva glanced down; Amira, Leyla's six-year-old daughter, was looking up at her, grinning. Leyla chuckled softly, going to her. "I'm sorry, Ziva." But she shook her head, confused.
"Um... it... it's no problem..." She replied, eyes going to Leyla's hand. The older woman caught her gaze, and smiled softly, holding out her hand.
"Tim proposed. We are going to get married as soon as Amira's adoption goes through."
"A... adoption?" She choked out, her throat thick with heartache.
"Yes. Tim is going to adopt Amira as his own." She glanced at Tim, before turning back to Ziva. "Are you all right?" Ziva nodded, struggling to hold back tears. She gave Leyla a small smile, reaching out to wrap her in a hug.
"Yes, I am fine. Mazel Tov." Leyla squeezed her tight, before pulling away. She then turned to Tim, tears pricking at her eyes. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and in soft, shuddering breath, whispered, "Mazel Tov, Tim." He wrapped her in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her temple.
"Toda, Ziva." He whispered back. She quickly pulled away, giving them both a small smile before leaving the coffeeshop. Tears began to fill her eyes as she returned to her apartment, Leyla's words circling in her head. The sight- the mere thought- of them together tore at her heart.
But suddenly, it all made sense- why he was dashing off after work, why he'd refused to talk to her after Somalia, why he'd been so secretive. It was because of Leyla. Because they were in a relationship and it was serious. She couldn't possibly sit by and watch him marry someone else. Not when her heart was breaking. By the time she returned to her apartment, she'd made up her mind. First thing in the morning, she would hand in her resignation and return to Israel. And while Tim and Leyla were saying their wedding vows and starting their life together, she would try to fix her broken and torn heart.
She glanced out the window, catching sight of the pair leaving the coffeeshop, holding hands, Amira swinging hands with Tim. Tears began to rush down her face as they disappeared into the bustle of Georgetown, and she choked on a sob, realizing that any hope of a future with Tim was gone.
Yes, first thing in the morning, she would resign.