"Will you marry me?"
She didn't even have to think about it.
Wrapping him around her heart, she took a flying leap off the ledge after him, catching him on the way down.
"Yes."
The euphoric smile that bloomed across her face lit up her eyes and mirrored the one on his.
"Yes?" he asked hopefully, praying he'd heard right.
"Yes," she repeated happily without even a hint of doubt in her voice.
His short laugh was pure joy incarnated as he wrapped his left arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. Warmth filled her belly and spread throughout her body at the obvious relief and happiness that poured into his expression.
"Now you wanna see the ring?" he murmured into her hair.
"Absolutely," she admitted on an elated sigh with a smile, giving him a look that made him glad he was sitting down. "But, first, I want you to kiss me."
She didn't have to ask twice.
Their grinning mouths slowly came together … softly moving, clinging … opening to welcome the other inside … tongues stroking, teasing, dancing … until nothing existed but their physical and emotional connection.
Her left hand and his right were still clasped, the ring between them. Their arms drifted in until those hands were tucked protectively between them near their hearts.
The kiss went on and on … spinning out … shimmering all around and throughout them. Slowly, they came up for air, going back once, twice more before leaning their heads together, so grateful to be together.
"Neshama," she whispered emotionally into the comfortable silence that cocooned them.
He wrapped his long fingers around her neck, his thumb brushing back and forth over her jaw, as he tilted both their heads back just far enough to see her eyes clearly.
"That Hebrew?" he asked softly.
She nodded, almost shyly.
Intrigued, he wondered, "What's it mean?"
Her voice was very, very soft as she answered.
"It means … 'my soul.'" She fought to keep her eyes on his, tried not to hide as she revealed the true depth of emotion she felt for him. "It is a common term of endearment in Hebrew … but I have never used it. Until now. Until you."
His warm characteristic smile made her heart flutter and she was very glad she'd told him. He pressed a soft, grateful kiss to her lips, then gazed back into her eyes.
"Can I say it back to you like that or do I have to change the word?" He'd picked up enough Hebrew from her to know that some things were gender-specific, like in Spanish.
She felt almost absurdly touched that he would ask.
"That word is the same for both of us," she told him with a slight, easy smile. "But you do not have to say it."
"And if I want to?"
She went completely still at his question.
"Well, then …" she started faintly, pausing for a heartbeat. "Of course you may."
"Neshama," he murmured, drowning in her brown-eyed gaze. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. "I like it. Fits."
A wave of love for him crashed over her with such force that she nearly staggered even sitting down. She blinked back more tears of happiness as she pressed herself even more closely to him.
She had no words for how much it meant to hear that coming from him in the language of her heart, so she tucked her face into his throat, pressed a heartfelt kiss to his skin, hoped he received the message through that wordless bond that was so strong between them.
From the way he cradled her so close that not even a whisper could have passed between them, it appeared he did.
Then her left hand squeezed his right.
"Perhaps … now?" she requested softly, looking at the velvet pouch they still held between them.
He nodded his head to the side in affirmation and reached in to pull out the ring he'd chosen.
"Jeweler said we could exchange it for something else if it's not what you want," he told her, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous.
"Jethro?"
She waited until he paused in his actions and his eyes locked on hers again.
"Do you love it?"
He hesitated, then nodded.
"Did you choose it for me?"
He looked at her a little oddly, then nodded again.
Her smile was breathtaking.
"Then it is perfect." She didn't even have to see it to know that.
He glanced back down at his hands, but his half-smile tugged at his lips once more.
"Close your eyes and give me your hand," he directed her in a voice growing husky with emotion.
She did, without hesitation.
The way she trusted him – only him - blew his mind sometimes.
Gently taking her left hand in his, he slid the engagement ring onto her finger.
It looked and fit even more perfectly than he'd imagined.
"Can open your eyes now," he directed quietly, warmly, his smile coloring his voice.
Ziva's gaze went straight to the fourth finger on her left hand.
Her heart stuttered. Stopped. Galloped.
Adorning her hand was the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen.
She'd have gasped, but she had no breath for that.
Ziva admired the ring with her eyes as she reached out to touch it gently, lovingly, reverently with her other hand.
At the center of the platinum band sat a round princess-cut diamond that sparkled brilliantly. On either side, two smaller round diamonds snuggled up to the one in the center and four pave-set diamonds filled the ring's shank on either side of those.
She absolutely loved it. Couldn't even imagine anything more perfect.
"Jethro?" she husked, clearing her throat gently.
"Yeah?"
"You are now in charge of choosing all of my jewelry for the rest of our lives."
Her eyes snagged his. The ecstatic delight in her expression made his heart trip just before she launched herself more fully into his arms, knocking him over onto his back as she pressed a thousand kisses over his face, his neck, his chest.
He laughed and rolled her beneath him, capturing her lips in a deep, heartfelt kiss.
When he let her up to breathe, he looked down at her shining eyes, her mussed hair, her slightly swollen lips that were now a darker shade of pink and thought she'd never looked more beautiful.
"Did I mention that I love my ring?" she husked, one hand wrapped behind his neck and the other caressing his face.
"Not exactly, but I got that impression." He grinned and the very walls of the house seemed to settle with a happy sigh as they absorbed the enchanted laughter from the couple in front of the fire.
"Good." Ziva reached up to plant a brief, hard kiss on his mouth to underscore her point.
Resting her head back down on a pillow, she gazed into his eyes.
"People will say we are crazy," she observed wryly, "becoming engaged so soon."
"Let 'em," he returned.
She let her left hand drift over his face, his shoulder, down his chest, partly just to watch her ring sparkle in the firelight.
"Whadda you think?" Her answer to that was the only thing that mattered to him.
Ziva raised her eyes to his and locked her hands behind his neck, her body softening to cradle him against her.
"I think," she began slowly, her gaze never wavering from his, "that not everything is about time … and that, on some level, we have been on this path from the moment we met."
Her left hand came forward to trace gently, lovingly over his features.
"Do you remember that day?" she asked softly.
The look in his eyes and tender curve to his mouth made her heart turn over in her chest.
"Never forget it," he assured her quietly.
"Even with everything else that was happening, there was this … sense of recognition, a shock almost, the moment I looked into your eyes for the first time … and I knew."
"Knew what?"
"That we somehow belonged together, though I had no idea how that would come to be, especially after …" She looked away from him as a shadowed memory crossed her eyes that spoke of Kate, of Ari. "Everything."
He bent his head to nuzzle her throat, her cheek, offering her comfort that she gratefully received.
"And then I was gone and then Jenny brought me back and you were … irritated." Her lips twitched as her gaze came back to his.
He snorted.
"Could say that," he agreed. "But that was more about Jenny going behind my back ..." He paused for a heartbeat, then came clean with an admission of his own. "And about figuring out how the hell I was going to keep things just professional between us seein' you every day."
Her eyes widened a bit in surprise.
"That shock you got was like a punch in the gut for me," he admitted wryly.
"You hid it very well," she told him.
"Well, yeah."
That made her snort delicately.
"So did you," he pointed out.
"Well, yeah," she copied in an exaggerated tone, before chuckling lightly.
He bumped his nose against hers affectionately.
Ziva's eyes sobered a little.
"I tried to convince myself that the sense of belonging I felt when we met was about working together, becoming friends, being accepted into the family that was your team. I did not completely succeed, but at least it permitted me to function ... and allowed me to stay near you, even if that was getting difficult lately."
"Why?" he asked softly.
She closed her eyes briefly, then found his again.
"No matter what I told myself, I knew that my feelings for you were more than that … that no one else was ever going to be to me what I knew you could be. After everything with Dearing, I was reminded that life was short – often brutally so. In some ways, I suppose that is what made it especially hard over the last few months.
"You see, over the years, as I became more than what I had been, I gradually wanted more of a life." She gave him a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But really only with you."
She paused for a moment before continuing.
"And I thought it would never happen."
The sorrow in her expression as she remembered the loneliness prompted by that thought moved him to brush his lips over her cheeks, her jaw, her lips.
And then because this was no time for sadness, she consciously reached for the memory of New Year's Eve and gave him a breathtaking smile that brought a lump of emotion to his throat.
"But, with the help of a couple of self-appointed Guardian Angels, it turned out I was wrong."
She lifted her head to brush her mouth over his.
"And I could not be happier about that," she smiled, her eyes sparkling, captivating him.
Bending his head, he captured her lips in a soft, warm kiss that gradually deepened. The depth of feeling behind it communicated all he had failed to say over these last few years.
When he lifted his head at last, he gazed with satisfaction at the dazed, slumberous look in her eyes. Then he gave her a little more of himself.
"Sometimes couldn't help but think about being with you, saying to hell with Rule Twelve, but then I'd remember I was too old for you, too …" His voice trailed off and he shook his head. He couldn't figure out how to say too remote, too broken, too … something. Too everything.
But the tender smile she gave him and the soft caress on his cheek said she understood … and yet, completely disagreed.
"I believe we have established that you are perfect for me," she reminded him, wiggling closer and taking his lips in a kiss that made his pulse pound.
"Well, I'm hoping I am," he responded dryly when he could speak. Then he looked at her with need and desire swirling in his eyes. "'Cause I don't want to let you go."
"I am not going to let you," she returned with a saucy, yet affectionate look in her eyes.
"Gonna hold you to that," he declared, punctuating his point with a brief kiss. He considered something for a moment, then said, "Had another reason for keeping Rule Twelve around."
"Oh?" she asked with a slight lift of a brow. "What was that?"
He debated on how to say it, then settled on a roundabout way.
"There's a betting pool on when you and DiNozzo are going to get together." And while he cared enough for both of them to want them to be happy, he just hadn't been able to smooth the way for that to happen unless he became convinced that was they both needed.
"I know," she answered calmly, surprising him.
She brought her left hand up to admire her engagement ring once more.
"I wonder if I can collect my winnings now or if I will have to wait until after the wedding," she mused thoughtfully out loud.
She raised her gaze to catch his astonished and confused one.
"Tony and I each gave Ducky one hundred dollars to place on never," she explained cheekily. "The three of us are going to split the winnings."
His brow rose nearly to his hairline, then he let out a bark of laughter and shook his head.
Laying his head on her chest, he relaxed into her.
"Sometimes I wondered," he admitted.
She ran soothing hands over his back, through his hair.
"So that is why you assumed I was talking about Tony when you overheard Abigail and me talking on New Year's Eve," she realized. He nodded. She pressed her lips to his forehead and spoke against his skin. "Tony is like a brother to me and I love him for that. We flirt some, but it is just in fun and is one more way of having each other's back."
He tilted his head back to look up at her in confusion.
She smiled down at him.
"It is sort of like pulling a curtain down to keep people from seeing what's underneath, for both of us," she explained. "It protects the real us – even though we never talk about that."
Gibbs relaxed against her once more, tucking his nose into her throat.
"I am sorry if that ever hurt you," she spoke quietly into his hair. "I was so certain I was not meant to have you that I did not realize that it might."
He shook his head slightly.
"The situation did some," he admitted, "though that was more on me than on you."
"But that is in the past and now we have each other," she whispered wondrously, cradling him to him tightly. "For always."
"Always," he promised, reaching up to seal it with a heady kiss.
When he let her up for air, he snuggled back down on top of her … pretty much his favorite place to be these days.
"So tell me, Special Agent Gibbs," Ziva changed the subject in a sexy, conversational drawl, "is this your usual style? Getting engaged after only a few weeks of dating?"
Part of him was ridiculously relieved that she could refer to that so casually as though it truly didn't bother her that she was going to be the fifth Mrs. Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
That would be because it didn't.
He shook his head and dropped a kiss to her mouth.
"This is a first." He looked down at her with all the love he felt shining in his eyes. "And last."
Satisfaction slammed through her, blending with the love and desire flowing within her to create a heady mix.
Taking him by surprise, she rolled him onto his back and leaned over him, her arms braced on either side of his head.
"You are certainly right about that," she agreed firmly in a tone that stopped just short of being a growl. Her eyes narrowed in that patented look that no one could deliver quite like Ziva. "And if anyone decides to test that, remember that the knife you just gave me is more than simply an amazing ring box and I am not afraid to use it."
A full-blown grin crossed his face as his hands smoothed over her lower back to press her more firmly against him. That side of her was one of the things he found incredibly attractive about her.
"Yes, ma'am," he acquiesced, because attraction hadn't made him stupid.
Ziva caught her bottom lip in her teeth adorably as she melted from teasingly sexy and confident to completely besotted just looking at him.
"I adore you," she whispered. Her voice strengthened, revealed her glorious wonder. "And this has been the best Valentine's Day ever."
A wild exhilaration whooshed through her body as a thrilled noise left her throat and she hugged him tightly in an unmistakable message: she wasn't letting him go.
Not now.
Not ever.
A/N: I put a link on my profile for this engagement ring, as I found a specific one I wanted to use. You might have to copy & paste it into your browser. Check out the name of the company, which I only noticed after I found the ring that spoke to me for them here - talk about serendipity, hmmm? =) Next chapter takes us to M ;) so you might need to be on the look-out for the update. THANKS for all the reading, reviewing, favoriting and following! My readers ROCK! :D
