Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. I know, it's such a sad fact. I wish I did. Hahahaha.
Notes: Song fic; Even Now by Dashboard Confessional. Barely post JD. Would take place between them coming back and Gibbs and Mike burning the house down. Hurt/Comfort. Jiva and a hint of Giva.
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Even now I can smell your clothes freshly from the wash, still hot from the dryer.
Ziva sat down on the rather grand bed, running her hand along the blanket next to her. The corner of her mouth twitched with a sad smile, if Tony found out that she was here he would be upset but it was what she needed. That was an image she'd never get from her head. Now in her lifetime, Ziva had seen so much. Death, poverty, war, pain and happiness too. Finding the one woman she loved more than anything she'd ever known dead on the floor, was something that wasn't going to let her go. She cringed slightly at some kind of non-physical pain she had inside of her. Actually, she had to admit this was close to physical pain and there was a lot of it. She looked up across the room, listening hard. Noemi wasn't here anymore. The house was so quiet… She felt a sickening pang of guilt in her belly, closing her eyes tight and taking a small breath. How could she have been so stupid to listen to Jenny when she'd told her and Tony to not follow her? How!
Her eyes trailed to the dresser, to which she got up and moved toward, picking up a picture frame that was just screaming for attention. Some of her features twitched with tension as she forced herself to keep from tearing up. This picture that Jenny always kept of the two of them when they'd first met. Cairo had been a hard op but they made it worth while for each other, finding more than either of them had gambled for. She set the picture down, closing the door to the room and looking around it once more, taking it all in. Every memory seemed to flood her from the moment they'd first met to the last smiles they'd shared. Everything was rushing to her. She pulled off her jacket, managed her boots off and climbed across the bed. She sat on her knees in the middle of the bed, just breathing for a moment. She inhaled deeply, she could still smell her. The perfume she used so little of it was barely musk- the most pleasing scent in the world to Ziva- mixed with the natural scent of her.
Even now I can smell your skin as I wrap you in a towel, lay you on the bed and try to love you. Even now I can feel your arms, I can feel your breast, I can hear your songs. And I always can find you here.
She never had to go alone, Ziva cringed as another pang of guilt and pain rushed through her causing her to whimper softly. She knew she shouldn't beat herself up but she couldn't help it. She should have listened to her instincts, and DiNozzo, and followed Jenny while they still had the chance! She leaned forward, laying on her belly across the bed and pulling her lover's pillow close. She whimpered again, a painful lump was building in her throat. She squeezed her eyes closed tight, nuzzling the pillow that so strongly smelled of Jenny. Her eyes burned while she fought so hard not to cry but sometimes she just wasn't that strong enough. The corners of her eyes were wet now she could feel it, and she could feel the tears escaping, sliding down across her temple and into her hair and finally to the pillow. She took a deep breath, squeezing the pillow tight and trying still to win against the tears.
Memories kept rushing into her and she was starting to feel like she could die. She'd dealt with a lot, yeah, but this was almost the worst she'd gone through. She shifted, keeping the pillow close, the scent of Jenny reminded her of everything. The first time she'd felt love in Cairo, the first time they'd had sex. The overwhelming passion they'd had for a few years. She still had no idea how they never got bored with each other. She couldn't help but laugh sadly at the last thought, but the laughter quickly subsided with the realization that Jenny wasn't there now. Her body started to shake a little with the battle against crying, which she was losing without doubt. She hummed softly, in any sad attempt to calm her down, which also was failing, but she was relentless. A song she'd sung to Jenny, of course, a song she'd played on the piano just to show off, to impress the woman but mostly just to make her smile. When she played piano she remembered a few times when Jenny would come over, sit next to her and take her hand, so gently, to distract her from playing when she'd play late at night. Those looks that Jenny gave her that made her forget how to even play at all. That smile that tore everything around Ziva down, and lost her even when she seemed to be the most composed person, but most of all when she would remember how to play, and her lover would sing for her, even if Jenny had never meant for Ziva to hear. Ziva let out a soft sob at the memory.
Even now I can feel your hand gently over mine, with almost no weight at all. Even now I can feel your eyes watch me as I strum much too late at night. Even now I can see you smile, I can hear you hum, I can hear you sing, and I always can find you again.
"Why can't I find you now, Jenny." She whimpered softly, hugging the pillow tight and curling up. She let her thoughts wander again, starting to cry now. She didn't want to fight anymore she was always the strong one. It was her turn to break down now, everyone else had his or her chance and it was her turn even if it meant she had to be alone to do it. Her entire body shook with her tears and she cried without hesitation, holding that pillow that was the last she had of her lover's scent other than the perfume bottle she would surely keep. She remembered how no matter how little Jenny used of that perfume, the musk scent after every passionate encounter made it so much more intense. She remembered every touch, taste, sound. The way Jenny gasped her name, and begged for her, and the way she would do the same. She broke into gentle sobs, cursing herself once more for not following Jenny that day.
Even in the dark of night, even in the lowest light. Even as the world outside is spinning and spinning.
She remembered when they'd first come back to D.C. how she stayed a few months with Jenny until she could find her own place, if simply for the safety of Jenny. They would switch back and forth, a few nights at one place, a few at the other. The nights she would just hold Jenny when they'd sit downstairs and watch the rain from the living room window. When they would choose to sit in the chair together rather than on the couch. Ziva laughed a little through her tears, how stubborn they were together. Or when they would sit on the porch swing out back really late at night the summer they'd just got back to D.C. and they would stay so close as though trying to keep warm, even when the air was so warm, just as an excuse to hold each other.
Even now I can feel your hair blow across my cheek as we sit in one of two chairs.
Ziva began to cry again, she didn't care anymore. She would cry openly. She began to remember closer to the end when Jenny had gotten sick. She wouldn't talk about it, her and Ziva had gotten into a fight about it, and eventually talked about it later that same night through a lot of tears. She knew at that moment still nothing would change between them, nothing at all. Ziva would still love her, she would still love Ziva. The nights Ziva would just hold her close and stay awake until Jenny slept, some nights she wouldn't get any sleep but that was something she would always do for Jenny. The more her sickness took hold of her though, the more restless she got and it was then that Ziva started to hold on tighter.
Even now I can feel your face resting on my chest, wrestling for sleep and failing at it. Even now I can see you sleep, I can see you dream, I can see you fly and I always can find you again.
Gibbs had made his way into the house quietly, knowing no one was here. Well, not Noemi or Jenny at least. There was a light on though. He made his way around quietly, searching every room until he met a closed door. He paused, listening hard. He heard crying, he'd heard those sobs before. He held his breath painfully, Ziva. He slowly opened the door, looking inside. Sure enough, there she was. Her body was shaking while she cried and he had to admit it was painful to even look at. He'd only seen her cry twice, both times they were completely alone. Some twist of fate, perhaps, that they were always there when the other was in pain. He moved across the room quietly, kneeling on the bed and resting a hand on her arm. "Ziva." He whispered softly, his features dark with some pain and worry. It irked him a little that she didn't flinch, she didn't move when he touched her. That just wasn't like her.
"Jethro." She said softly, her voice shook while she tried to stop crying. She couldn't stop; she didn't want to. She pushed herself up, hugging the pillow close to her while she sat on the bed, looking up at him with red, dark, wet eyes that reflected more pain than she wanted them to.
They said nothing more than that to each other. The only thing either did was move to each other. Jethro reached over, pulling her close and holding her while she held that pillow, surrounded by everything that was Jenny. All he did was hold her and let her cry again and no matter how stiff either of them got with sitting that way, neither of them moved. This is how they would stay until one or both of them could regain the composure to face the world again without her.
And I always can find you again.