Is anyone still reading these?
Eight more days until Christmas - where has the time gone?
jae
Quilt
He arrives home right on time; his flight hitting the ground just as the snow begins to fall. He's slightly unprepared for the blast of freezing air that greets him as he steps onto the tarmac; if only because he'd spent the last two weeks in the equatorial part of the globe.
He'd been told the mission would take no longer than two weeks, and was promised that he'd be home well in time before the Christmas holidays arrived.
He supposes he's fortunate; returning back with just three days to spare.
She hadn't let him go easy, and he didn't expect anything less. Not only was it their first holiday together, but it was difficult to be separated from the other when it came to missions and being in the field. They'd grown accustomed to being one another's shadow; having their eyes on the other's back, and their back alone. He doesn't envy what his partner went through, as she sat in the safety of the bullpen and under the eyes of their team, while he was off grid with sporadic means of communication available to her.
Besides, Ziva's never been one to sit idly by while others run head long into action.
And though he's been traveling too long, working hours that will leave him in a comatose like stupor for the weeks to come, he's eager to see the woman that's been achingly absent from his life.
He finds the door to his apartment unlocked, and he pushes it open easily to find his the space warm and lit and alive; as if it hadn't been abandoned for a two week period. He realizes that someone had taken the time to tidy up; he finds bills and mail straightened neatly on his counter, and the sink bare of the dishes he recalls leaving hastily piled together.
He glances around his kitchen, and finds a box of tea sitting off to the side of the stove that he knows he hadn't had stocked away, and fresh fruit piled in the bowl set out on the island.
His smile widens as he enters his living room, where he at lasts discards his luggage, and he finds several christmas albums, a few of his own personal favorites, sitting out besides his sound system, which has been moved out of the way to accompany a small, but lit and decorated Christmas Tree. An abandoned box labeled X-Mas sits beside the couch, and he wonders where she found the old box filled with remnants of ghosts from Christmas past.
And though he's discovered many surprises that night, he's not at all surprised to find her in the middle of his bed as he wanders down the end of the hall, and pushes open his bedroom door. The picture she paints warms his chest, and he leans against the doorframe as he takes her in; sitting barefoot and cross-legged against his bed frame, thumbing through a thick book with a familiar quilt pulled tightly around her. Curls fall in loose locks from the bun at her nape, and the smile she greets him with is as bright as it is loving.
"Comfortable?" Tony chuckles, and Ziva closes her book with a sharp thump.
"You are home." She returns unnecessarily, her eyes raking over his tired frame, while her smile doesn't falter. He pushes off the doorframe, coming to the end of the mattress and crawling over to where she scoots to make room for him.
She pulls the quilt loose from around her, opening it to encompass his frame next to her, and melts easily into his side.
He sits back with her against him, closing his eyes as he heaves a tired sigh and drops a kiss to the top of her head.
"I'm home." He mumbles, and she leans up to capture his lips properly, her hand slipping up his chest and over his neck, trailing back down again.
He pulls back to look at her, and while her lips leave his, her hand doesn't fall from where it rests against his chest.
"I see you found the Christmas stuff." He nods in the direction of the living room, and Ziva gives him a shy smile, looking at the wall behind him.
"You had not put anything out yet." Her fingers curl into his sweater nervously. "I thought I could while I was around."
He smiles at her attempt to downplay how much time she'd been spending here in his absence; he was beginning to suspect she'd been here the entire time. Her eyes come back to rest on his, and he pulls at the quilt wrapped around them.
"And you found mom's old quilt."
Ziva's smile falters, her face falling at his words.
"Tony, I did not know," She begins, attempting to shuffle the blanket off of them. "I found it in the box, I have been using it around the house because of the cold. " She's almost freed it from around her shoulder, but Tony shakes his head roughly, keeping it pulled tightly around them.
"Ziva, it's fine." He laughs, but she still watches him with a guarded expression. "Really," he assures, pulling her closer against him and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Mom used to pull it out around the holidays." He recalls, and his eyes grow distant as he smiles fondly at the memory. "When we'd watch the classics she loved by the fire." He looks down at Ziva's affectionate look, and he clears his throat as he shakes off the memories from long ago. "Dad was away a lot then, so it was just me and her around the holidays."
Ziva thumbs the worn fabric between her fingers, relaxing into his hold.
"Still, I shouldn't have gone through your things." His lips are on hers then, cutting her off, and he indulges her in a kiss that's deeper than the one she greeted him with.
"You've made yourself at home," Tony murmurs after pulling his mouth from hers, and her eyes seem to darken as they open to look into his own. "I like it." And as he looks down at her soft, adoring smile, breathing in her scent and encompassed by her warmth, surrounded so very much by her, he realizes that he's never felt more at home in his own apartment than he does in this moment, here right now with her.
She finally shuffles to sit in his lap, looking up at him as his arms pull her against his chest.
"You are my home," she utters softly, almost too quiet for his ears, and he thinks he might have imagined the confession, if he didn't catch a glimpse of the shy smile she turns to hide in the crook of his neck.
He tightens his arms around her.
Because she is as much of his home as he is hers.
And it's true what they say.
He's so very blessed to be home for the holidays.