KALEIDOSCOPE!!!!
A/N: So, I have decided to put out a sequel. But, if you rather otherwise… Tough. And a major change! Chapter titles!
And disclaimer: I'm not CBS. Thanks if you think my writing is good enough, though. Also I own no references. Or Nyquil. All I own is a lot of books and a TV. The movie in this chapter is The Day the Earth Stood Still.
Sorry this one is a tad short word length wise, and sorry I am taking it up with an author's note.
Ch1. Green Eyes
Green eyes…
****
Ziva leaned against the wall of the elevator, her breath coming in short bursts. She still held his photo in her hand. She glanced at the offending photograph for a moment, then tossed it down in frustration.
Why, oh WHY, had she accepted the hit?
Just two weeks ago, she had told Tony how she felt. And now she had agreed to…
Kill him!
Why?
Why?
Why…
…why…
But she was. No use arguing; otherwise she could never return to Israel.
The question is, she pondered, will I be able to cope? After I place a bullet through his skull?
And did her father know how she felt? Certainly he knew Tony's masochistic self-sacrificing side. Certainly he knew Tony cared.
Which was why Ziva made the perfect person to eliminate him.
**** Tony's apartment
Tony took a huge bite of the pepperoni pizza, relishing the ooey goodness. After a moment of chewing: "Thanks for doing this with me, Tim. I miss her, but it might be better soon."
McGee nodded. At least Tony used his first name now. Actually, he was starting to miss Tony's old obnoxious nicknames. "The least I can do for you is watch movies, Tony."
Ziva's staying was not so bad, now. Sure everyone missed her, but the team's wounds were healing.
The two men sat silently, watching Keanu Reeves do his alien thing.
"So… you and Abby again, huh? I mean, nothing official, but you went on a real date last weekend?" Tony asked, right after the semi got eaten by robot bugs.
"Yep," McGee replied, glancing at his friend a bit nervously.
"That's really good. You guys are good." Tony avoided Tim's gaze, the longing on his face apparent.
McGee wasn't sure if he should tell Tony what he would say next, but he wanted to keep Tony's trust. The man needed a friend.
"I'm going to propose to her."
Tony glanced over. "After just one date since you got back together?"
"Uh… Yeah, I think."
"Oh yeah? You should. Nice restaurant, science fair, maybe… a romantic evening on the roof of your building, McGregor?" Tony was half playful, half serious.
Tim grinned. "Something like that." He fingered the velvet box that stayed always in his pocket.
"I'm sure she'll say yes," Tony said, turning back to the bad remake.
"The original was better," Tim commented, the lights of the movie flicking over his and Tony's faces.
"Much better," Tony murmured, not thinking about the movie at all.
**** Israel
Ziva would take her time. She wanted to put this off, not prolong the moment, so she packed her Sig.
A single shot to the head, he would feel nothing.
Not that she would know, never having experienced it herself.
God, what had she gotten herself into?
Ohhh…
She packed a few things for nostalgia's sake, for her own peace of mind.
Her green dress from her time as Sophie.
Her black bikini, of which the pictures with her in it were so popular among male NCIS special agents.
A few other things she shared some joke about with him.
Oh-h-h…
Ziva wasn't so sure about bringing the Sig.
Maybe… she could find a way to leave it?
The Director would know. He always knew.
Maybe she could leave Mossad?
Then Tony would still die.
Maybe's floated through her head, all to be shot down by that cursed voice of reason in her mind.
Oh, Tony!
She gripped her cell phone.
That, maybe she should leave.
But maybe not?
Finally, after several moments of inner turmoil, Ziva slipped the device into a pocket of her blue jeans.
With a sigh, she closed the suitcase.
****
A mist surrounded Ziva, thick like stew.
Soup, she heard him chide.
Ziva whipped around, trying to find him.
Tony?
"Ziva, shoot me." He appeared as she had last seen him. Bruised, beaten, shirtless, bandaged.
She stared down, startled to find the cold Sig in her hand.
"Shoot me." His arms were outstretched, beckoning.
Her big brown eyes widened.
Tony's cool green ones stared back.
Ziva's fingers tightened around the gun.
"Ziva, won't you kill me?" He was standing behind her now, his right arm running up and down hers.
His lips brushed her ear.
"I killed Michael. I placed four rounds in his chest. He died, Ziva. Don't you want revenge?"
He laughed.
"Shoot me."
The dream Tony turned her around, pulling her to him. He kissed her lips almost, avoiding any actual contact, and pulled her gun-holding hand to his chest.
"If I were Mossad, I would be dead all ready. Pull the trigger, Ziva. You want to.
"Shoot me, Ziva.
"Ziva!"
"ZIVA!"
****
The voice became that of Officer Hadar, calling her into wakefulness.
Ziva sat up, anxious, aware of the sweat pouring from her tense body.
"I shall shower, then you may take me to the airport," she murmured in Hebrew, brushing past Hadar as she exited.
Ziva did not let herself sleep on the flight.
****
She stepped into the replacement apartment, setting up the Embassy supplied surveillance equipment.
Ziva would like to place the cameras tomorrow; today, she would sink into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The Israeli woman stepped into the restroom, pulling two Nyquil from her bag and uncapping a bottle of water.
She swallowed the pills. It was a trick she had learned from Tony, to help her sleep after unsettling cases.
Soon rest claimed her, leaving her stretched out across the bed and snoring gently.