Part Four! And the agony continues in short bursts of anguish. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. Thank you so much for your kind comments.
Be lovely, please review, and I hope you survive the hiatus.
Follow me on twitter: vatrask
Enjoy
It was such a simple image, a woman eating lunch with a man.
Except it was Ziva and Tony.
And the room was quiet.
And Ziva was the only one of them eating lunch.
And Tony was barely breathing.
The sunshine outside was beautiful. Neither of them was enjoying it.
But still the image played out. Ziva had her lunchbox at her feet—she'd taken to packing her lunch most days so she wouldn't waste time buying it on her way to see him—with her lunch of fruit and cheese splayed out on Tony's bed as if were a table. It wasn't much of a lunch, but she didn't have long, anyways. She'd lost a bit of her appetite lately, too sick with worry to care about much else.
She picked a grape from her container and put it to her lips.
"After three weeks of investigation, we are nearly finished solving the Naval Doctor Murder," she announced. "It seems that the doctor was covering up for one of her students who was caught experimenting on cadavers. Horrible things. We're going to interview him tomorrow."
She paused, the grape still pressed to her lips as her face fell. "Well, I am going to interview the student tomorrow. Normally you would come with me, but…" She swallowed hard, hoping to dispel the sadness caught in her throat, but she choked and instead took a deep, sorrowful breath.
One month. Her jaw worked through the anger and frustration building up in her chest, replacing the self-pity and selfless worry. She caught herself clenching her fist too tightly and slowly relaxed the muscles in her fingers. She watched each digit uncurl until she could feel the tension flow from her fingertips. Get a grip, Ziva.
She shook her head.
"I watched a movie on television the other day." She placed another grape on her lips and chewed carefully. "Casablanca." A sad smile graced her lips as the memory resurfaced: imagining him sitting next to her as she curled up on the couch, unspoken desires refusing to let her rest. "It made me think of you," she confessed. "Not any particular character, just…you. What it would be like to watch the movie with you. I know you would make some stupid comment to ruin the entire movie." She chuckled as she threw a grape at his head, as if making a pre-emptive strike against him and his wit.
But as she watched the grape bounce off his forehead and roll across the floor, the room fell silent with the weight of all the grape was rolling away with. Every shared moment across their desks, every exchange of shameless banter, every missed moment…
She ducked her head, staring down at her lunch bag, praying it would provide some answers for her.
"Abby is very worried about you." Her voice was quiet, but it carried and echoed to all corners of the room. "I told her not to but I know she is. I know you will make a full recovery. There is no need to be so worried. I don't think she can help it."
She stared at him for longer than she would ever admit. The colour had completely gone from his face and hands and there were dark circles like bruises under his eyes. Her eyes trailed over his exposed chest, wrapped tightly in gauze that she noted would need to be changed soon. The skin of his hands were so dry and cracked she worried they might break apart if she held too tight, but she squeezed his fingers anyways, blindly hoping for a response. When none came, she closed her eyes and imagined for a moment they were anywhere but here, in any situation but this horrible nightmare.
In that moment everything was still, everything was calm. There was no incessant beeping, no cold fingers, no white walls. Of course, it was merely a dream, but the hope was still there. That hope opened her eyes. Back to the white walls and cold fingers and beeping so loud she was drowning in it. Back to Tony.
"My lunch break will be over soon." She cleared her throat when the words came out roughly. "I need to go." Lord, but she didn't want to leave him. Not now.
With precise movements, she packed her lunch back into her bag, careful to avoid touching him. When everything was in its place she rose, taking one last, long look at her partner still sleeping.
"I will see you tomorrow, Tony." She bent at the waist to place her lips to his forehead, ignoring the cold, clammy feel of his flesh against hers. Before she could talk herself out of it, she rushed out the door, bringing the beeping with her and leaving the room in silence.
