Setting: end of season 10 AU
She glanced at the clock. It had just hit midnight, and she knew there probably wasn't enough time to pack a full bag. Bare essentials would do. She would have to pick things up along the way. Travelling light was probably for the best, anyway. It would mean a much smaller chance of her leaving anything behind on her travels. Harder to track, harder to follow, for both enemies and allies—
Allies…
Ziva paused again, staring at her own face in the bathroom mirror. There were tears in her eyes that had probably been there since her contact had called her. She hardly recognised this woman before her. Or maybe this woman no longer recognised this kind of situation. Back in her Mossad days she would have found it all too easy to drop everything and go on the run. She had no ties. No anchor. Nowhere to truly call home. But it was entirely different now, because every few minutes she thought of how Gibbs would react. Or Tim, or Abby. Ducky and Palmer. It gave her an almost constant twist of the gut.
And then there was Tony.
God, she could only imagine how he'd react to her disappearance. The mere thought of it made her entire body ache, filling her with simultaneous dread and terror. A mind that needed so much to be calm and measured could not stop racing. It could not stop torturing her.
What if he comes looking for me?
What if they use him to get to me?
What if he can't even bring himself to care this time?
I may never see him again.
She may never see any of them again. And that was a reality Ziva was struggling to face. A struggle of monumental proportions. But another voice, one battling to reach the forefront of her shattered mind, kept reminding her that this was the best move. The safest move for them. The safest move for Tony, who she knew wouldn't hesitate to throw himself into danger for her. This threat was not something that would allow her time to weigh up her options.
The footsteps brought Ziva back to the real world, one where she found herself throwing things out of her closet near the front door of her apartment, searching for… something. It didn't really matter because her gun was in her hand in a flash, aimed and ready, and her task was quickly forgotten.
The footsteps sounded slow and hesitant as they got closer to the entrance. Ziva felt here eyes widen as the door creaked open ever so slightly. In her haste, she'd left the damn thing unlocked.
The safety was off. She held her breath.
''Don't shoot. You'll probably wake the neighbours.''
It was the last voice she wanted to hear, and yet somehow it was the only one in the world she truly needed to hear. Tony poked his head around the door just as Ziva fell to her knees, putting the gun aside and staring up at him in exhausted defeat. His face was an exhibition of concern, panic and fear. But there was a splash of relief on his features as well, along with something she'd seen a lot of over the years that she could never quite label. Whatever it was never failed to make her heart race.
Tony slid a duffle bag off his shoulder and closed the door behind him after he stepped through it. ''I just had a very interesting phone call,'' he informed her, and he was trying his best to keep his voice calm, Ziva could tell. ''From our mutual friend in Tel-Aviv, actually. I never thought I would have any friends in Tel-Aviv, but that DiNozzo charm must have broken through after all because we had quite the discussion.''
He leaned back against her door and folded his arms with a sigh. Ziva still couldn't bring herself to move.
''Well,'' he continued, not meeting her eyes, ''it was quite a one-sided discussion, if I'm honest. Orli wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. She just wanted to let me know that my partner was about to disappear—completely—from my life. Some sort of major threat to your life or something. She thought it might be better for you to have someone watching your six.''
When his gaze eventually fell down to her, she could only offer a pathetic sob. ''Tony…''
He was in front of her by the time her face crumbled, on his knees and down at her level. ''Ziva, hey, look at me.'' When she did, there was so much history in those eyes that—for the first time since she'd gotten home—she felt herself calm down slightly. ''I don't know the finer details here, but if you think you're going through this alone then you have another thing coming.''
Ziva felt her head shaking. ''I cannot ask you to do this.''
''You didn't. I'm insisting.''
With a scoff she shook her head again. ''I have not even left yet, and you've already found me.''
''That thing I said in Somalia,'' he said, catching her off guard slightly. ''With the truth serum and hopeless suicide mission? I very much meant that thing.''
''That was nearly four years ago.'' She'd remembered. Of course she'd remembered.
Tony simply shrugged. ''I thought I'd skip a few steps this time around and just come with you.''
She looked at him, really looked at him, and could see nothing but calm determination. Sincerity. He was really willing to do this. ''You are serious.''
''Why wouldn't I be? This is you. This is your life we're talking about.''
''And yours!''
Tony let out a deep breath, and despite everything a small but painfully familiar smile formed for the briefest of moments. ''I don't think we can have one without the other.'' He paused while the meaning of that sunk in—more like clawed its way in, right into Ziva's chest. ''It's a theory I've had for a while,'' he admitted.
This man. This impossible man. This loyal idiot of a man that she had come to love more than anyone else left in her life. He would never cease to make her speechless. Ziva brought her hands up to his face, bracketing it between them and allowing herself to remain grounded by those eyes she knew better than any others. They made her feel safe, loved, treasured. How could she possibly leave that behind?
Tony rested his forehead down onto hers and they both remained there. ''I'll follow your lead. Wherever it takes us. Please let me,'' he whispered.
''You would be leaving your entire life behind,'' she reminded him.
She felt his head shake against hers. ''No, I wouldn't.''
''Your job.''
''Would have consisted of chasing you around the globe for the next eternity.''
''Your friends.''
''I think they get how this works by now.''
''Your home.''
''Home is with you.''
Ziva opened her eyes and pulled back from him. What little fight she had was long gone. ''You are unbelievable.''
Tony shrugged again. ''You're stuck with me, Miss David, and if you don't want to be then you'll have to shoot me.''
She thumped his shoulder half-heartedly, but then kissed him. It was a slow, gentle and disappointingly brief kiss. But it was Ziva's way of saying more to him than any words ever could. Judging by the look on Tony's face afterwards, he'd gotten the message loud and clear, even if there was some skepticism there.
''Ok,'' she murmured.
''Ok?''
''Ok.''
He frowned; her suspicion of his skepticism confirmed. ''I expected more of a fight.''
In spite of herself, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ''When I saw that you'd already brought your bag, I should have known there would be no talking you down. You can be very stubborn, Tony.''
His returning smile finally filled her with hope. Enough to lift some of the clouds from her mind. ''I learned from the best.''
With that, Tony got to his feet with a small groan, and then offered his hand to her.
She took one last deep breath as she looked up at him. ''Wherever it takes us, hm?''
He nodded. Zero hesitation.
She took his hand.
Very mushy, I know. Just wanted to see if I still had any T/Z left in me
