AN: CHEESE AND FLUFF AHEAD. This is a one-shot, set at the end of the summer 2013. It's just something i had to get out there. It's sickeningly sappy. Please, enjoy.
"Do you not think we are a little far from D.C, Tony?" Ziva worried. They had just stepped out of the car after a good two hours drive to the coast. She looked around, taking in the busy boardwalk.
Tony just smiled and adjusted his wayfarers. "We're on call this weekend, Ziva! Not scheduled. Don't sweat it." He grabbed her hand, and used his other free arm to support a wicker basket. "Did you get the blanket from the back seat?"
Ziva nodded, and motioned towards the blue folds of fabric resting over her shoulder. "I still don not understand why we had to drive all the way to the coast to eat lunch that we prepared ourselves." Tony didn't answer. They descended the wooden steps, away from the shops, stalls, games, people, and noise towards the warm sand. Tony stopped them briefly to set down the basket to slide off his flip flops. "The only way to walk on the beach, of course." He said, wriggling his toes into the warm, loose ground. Ziva reached for the picnic basket but Tony just took her hand again, and the basket in the other. "Nope. I've got it."
Ziva rolled her eyes. "Okay. Where should we sit? Or do you plan on playing in the sand until the sandwiches spoil?" Tony shot her a grin that she couldn't help but return. He stepped forward, taking the lead and pulling her along behind him. "We have to find the perfect spot. Some shade, yes… but still warm, not chilly…" Tony eyed a small dune nearby, formed against the dropoff that formed the boardwalk. It gave enough distance from the few neighboring families, their screaming toddlers throwing sand and their tired parents laying back to enjoy the sun, but was not secluded. He grasped the basket closer to his side and took off in a spring, pulling Ziva along. He surprised her, but she quickly adjusted, securing the blanket and lengthening her stride to catch up next to him.
Tony pulled the blanket off her shoulder and laid it out on the sand. Ziva studied him as he carefully unfolded it, sweeping off the little sand that had gotten on top. "Sit, sit." He told her, focusing on the minuscule frayed ends of the blanket, not looking at her. "Do you like the spot?"
Ziva sat down slowly, still examining her boyfriend and his delicate mood. "It is a great spot. Thank you, Tony." She reached her hand to cover his knee. "This is very important to you, isn't it?"
Tony looked at her and smiled. "Well yeah, Ziva, beach picnic. It's, you know…" he trailed off.
A distant bullpen conversation resurfaced in Ziva's memory, and it clicked. "One of the big three, yes?" She smiled.
Tony's mouth curved open wide at her acknowledgment. "Why yes, yes it is." He pulled the basket onto the blanket with them, then pulled it over Ziva to her other side. He reached up to her face, combing his fingers into her hair and stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. "The only one we haven't done."
Ziva closed her eyes, giving herself a moment to take everything in. She let the ocean breeze flow over her shoulders and through her hair, and traced where Tony's collar met his neck, committing it all to a memory that could withstand the future struggles she expected for her and Tony. She met him for a kiss. "This may not beat Berlin, Tony, but this was a pretty great idea."
He tucked her hair behind her ear and drew back. "It's been a long summer. Hard to believe that was only a few months ago." He shook his head. "I don't like to rank within the big three, but impromptu dancing is pretty hard to beat. Beach picnic though, pretty unique if I do say so myself. Even if it's a little cliche." He patted her on the thigh before pulling to his own spot on the blanket. "Come on. Let's eat. You're right, the sandwiches are probably pretty warm by now."
Ziva turned away from him and opened the wicker basket. She pulled out the container of juice and the two plates they had set on top, placing them on their blue blanket. Going back in for the food, she realized there was a small yellow note on the inside of the basket's lid. Turn around.
She rotated towards him, still kneeling. "Tony, what is-" There he was, eyes wide, shaking smile, one knee in the sand, holding open a small velvet box with a very familiar family ring inside of it.
"Ziva." He swallowed. "We've only been dating for a few months, but we both know that it was more than that for so long before then." He gained more confidence, his actions assured by the fact that she was still sitting on the blanket, frozen still, mouth parted in shock. He knew she wasn't going anywhere. "In the past eight years, you've helped me become a better man. You've helped me figure out what I really want, long term- this." He reached to grab her trembling hand. "Ziva David, will you marry me?"
Ziva saw the neighboring families start to point to the couple out of the corner of her eye. Her shock subsided, and she searched herself for some doubt, for some self-loathing, for anything that could stop her from saying yes. She found nothing but warmth and need, need for her partner, her best friend, need for her to give him an answer and make him permanently hers inside herself. "Yes. Yes. Tony, of course." She launched her arms around his neck and felt his arms close around behind her. She smiled into his neck. Tony may not like to rank the big three, but Ziva definitely had a new sense of favoritism towards 'beach picnic'.