Okay, can we all just admit that "Shiva" was probably one of the most spectacular and overall perfect episodes in NCIS history?! It was enough to allow my heart to grow back like a lizard's tail. It was wonderful, and I am SO SO SO excited to see where Tony and Ziva's relationship evolves from this! It's most certainly been the "year of the Tiva," and it's not even over yet! :D
Also, I've decided this story will be divided into four parts: the first three will coincide with one another as a sort of trilogy, but the final chapter will be my speculatory whims as to what could happen - at least, what I would like to see happen - in the finale (I'm also writing that chapter for my dad, as he inspired it, and I think he'd enjoy a fanfiction or two ;). :)
Thank you all SO MUCH for your wonderful reviews, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! (Even if it is short!)
Disclaimer: Do I own NCIS? I wish I did. Then I would make Tony and Ziva make pretty babies.
Lehitraot
An NCIS fanfiction
By doodlegirll
...oOo...
Ziva sighed as she finally closed the magazine Tony had bought her for the plane, rolling it up and clenching it in her hands, turning her head to peer out the window beside her at the scenery below. Her gum had long ago gone stale, and she had spit it into a napkin to be discarded later. And now, with Schmeil asleep across from her, snoring slightly, she found herself alone.
At lo levad.
"You are not alone." She whispered softly, remembering Tony's gentle words in her ear as he had seen her off, spoken with surprising fluency in Hebrew.
No, she was not alone. She had lost her father, yes, but she was still very much surrounded by a family that loved and cared for her. She still had Schmeil. She still had her team. And she still had Tony.
Tony had always been there for her, since day one, had always done his best to protect her. Hell, the man had embarked on what could only be coined as a suicide mission in Somalia for revenge when he believed that she had been killed. Throughout all the men that had used her in her life, he had always been the one to still be there in the end, ready to act the part of the faithful partner, the friend, with a movie and an ear to talk to. He had welcomed her into his home when she had felt as though her world were crashing around her, if only to make sure that she was safe. He had broken protocol and brought Schmeil back to DC for her, had cooked for her, had held her hand when she was frightened (no matter how reluctant she was to admit it).
And now, he was back in DC, waiting for her to return with a goofy grin on his face and a prank up his sleeve.
As of late, Tony had grown increasingly more affection with her, albeit subtly. Ever since the attack on NCIS by Dearing, she had felt herself growing more and more attached to Tony – especially emotionally. She was beginning to see that maybe, just maybe, there was something more behind that playful demeanor and flirtatious glee. Perhaps there was something much deeper there than ever before, and somehow, she could not imagine her life without him there.
At lo levad.
Ziva smiled as she rested her head back against the seat.
She accepted that this was not going to be easy. During shiva, she would embark on the highly emotional journey of laying her father to rest, as well as his memory. But so long as she had her family back in DC waiting for – had Tony waiting for her – somehow, she knew that it would be worth the fire.
"Lehitraot, Tony." She whispered softly, and finally allowed herself to sleep.