Tony felt a shiver run up his back, as he stepped outside. Virginia during the first weekend of November, was frigid. Ziva had gone into full winter hibernation mode, bringing out her winter sweaters, and buying yet another throw blanket for the couch. Ziva liked to be cosy, once there was a chill in the air.
There was a breath of warmth as Ziva slipped through the sliding door, and stood next to him. Nice and close.
"It is beautiful here," Ziva uttered, as they looked out to the vineyard. It was misty, almost like a horror movie. Nobody had told the weather the Halloween was over. This place was only a couple of hours away from home. "And not so far away."
Only a couple of hours away geographically, but it felt like another planet.
"Can you see yourself getting married here?" he asked, as he snaked his arm around Ziva's shoulder. She was warmer, having grabbed a scarf before they headed out. She had always been the more practical of the two of them.
"It is only the second venue we have seen," Ziva replied, leaning into him. "We should not make any sudden decisions."
It was the second venue they had seen in person, but they had looked up various venues. Neither of them had harbored dreams of huge white weddings, but they had some specifications. The more utilitarian included; not being too far away, being accessible for Delilah and having a quiet room available for use, as it was likely the baby Palmer would be hatched by them.
The more aesthetic dreams they had, included getting married outside and for the event to be intimate and private.
They also found themselves, pushed out of certain venues because of their plan for a small wedding. They only wanted their closest friends, and almost family there.
"Third, if we count Morticia and Gomez' Virginian vacation house," Tony muttered, scrunching up his face at the recent memory.
The gothic look of that venue had only been heightened by the dark weather, and both of them had decided not to step out of the car. Tony noted down the venue, as it seemed like the type of thing Abby would like.
"We did not even go inside," Ziva declared, with a slight smile. "That does not count."
"Anyway," he said, wanting to move the conversation along. "I can see us getting married here."
She turned to him, looking up at him, with wide eyes.
"You can?" she asked. Her voice giving her away, she was not convinced.
"You can't?" he asked back.
"I could get married anywhere," Ziva replied.
"Well it would be a hell of a lot cheaper to get married near the freeway," he said in a joking tone.
"You know what I mean," Ziva said, with a frown.
"I know," he replied. "Ziva David never thought she'd be front and centre of My Big Fat Jewish Wedding. There were times when she did not think she'd live to see another day."
She laughed, just as she had when they had snuggled up to watch the film, in an effort to get wedding inspiration, and something to laugh at. A James Bond movie had followed, but Ziva had fallen asleep during that.
It was not just the fact that Ziva had never been the girl who had planned her wedding before puberty. It was the fact that there would be so many empty seats, as well as the recent dark cloud that had hung over them, after thier recent loss. They were moving forward, one step at a time. Focusing on the joy.
"This matters more to you," Ziva started, voice wavering. "As long as we are married by a Rabbi I am flexible on the logistics."
Tony had met the Rabbi at the synagogue Ziva went to at least once a month. The Rabbi, who was more liberal than Tony was used to from religious leaders, had welcomed Tony with a warm hug and an all-knowing almost motherly smile, Ziva has told me a lot about you.
"Well we've got that," Tony said with a smile. "Rabbi Hug-a-lot, will give Abby a run for her money."
He couldn't remember the Rabbi's name, except that it did end with a 'wig' sound.
"Yes," Ziva said with a smile. "I am glad."
He looked out to the vineyard, his imagination running wild. Maybe, they could take pictures in front of the vines. The venue had a bed and breakfast just up the hill, maybe they could stay overnight, for their first night as married couple. Would, Amira run off and get herself lost in the nature, with poor Leyla cursing the ruined dress.
"Do you really not care where we get married?" he asked, trying not to sound as hurt as he was feeling, but the crack in his voice gave him away.
Did none of this matter to her?
"It is not that," Ziva said. "I just do not have your imagination for these things."
He scanned the venue, looking out the open terrace, with no steps separating it from the sheltered terrace, where they could set up a table. He could see it already. Their nearest and dearest surrounding them. It would be day of joy and love.
"Look at this place," he said, as he moved toward the open terrace, pointing. "I can see us getting married here. Who were we gonna get to hold the Chuppah, again?"
They had discussed that on the way back from the appointment from the Rabbi.
"Abby, McGee, Schmeil and Gibbs," she said with confidence.
They had debated back and forth, with Ziva offering to include his father, but Tony wanted her to decide. They would find a part for Senior to play.
"Yeah," he said, with a smile. "All of our favourite people will be surrounding us, and we won't have to worry about Delilah getting grass in her wheels. And, I know Schmeil gets a lil' wobbly after a few drinks."
He already knew that when the day came, his eyes would be on Ziva and Ziva only. She would be every part the stunning bride. She had not been dress shopping yet, but he had seen her looking at few dresses online, ruling out anything strapless, which was most of the dresses on offer.
"That is a nice thought," she replied.
"Can you picture it?" he asked.
"Sort of," she admitted. "But not quite. I do not have your imagination."
He moved slightly toward the covered patio, which was attached to the main house, softly guiding Ziva. He pointed to the wooden trellis, wrapped in evergreen vines.
"Close your eyes," he said softly. "It'll help."
Ziva turned to look at him, with a disbelieving frown.
"Trust me," he whispered.
"I do," came her reply.
"Then close your eyes," he uttered softly. "Just for a moment."
She closed her eyes, and he rested his hands on her shoulders, feeling a tension ebb and flow through her. Old habits die hard.
"Over there in the open, we'll get married, under the Chuppah. And here, we'll have big meal," he said, unable to shake a smile. One that had not fallen off, since he had walked into the venue. "Can you picture my Dad drinking all the wine? What about Schmeil and Ducky talking about anything and everything? We'll have to make sure we have some bourbon for Gibbs."
She let out a small laugh. He hoped the picture was being painted.
"Nobody else will be able to get a word in," she said softly.
"Everyone we love will be here," he said. "We'll celebrate this with them."
They would celebrate their love, with all of those that mattered most.
"I would like us to have one big table," Ziva said. "All of eating together."
"I like that," he said. His voice drifting away.
She opened her eyes, and looked around the venue, her eyes lit up with imagination.
"I am starting to see what you are seeing," Ziva murmured. "It could be a really beautiful wedding."
It would be a beautiful wedding.
"Yeah," he said with a smile. "It will be."
"Shall we go back inside?" Ziva asked, tugging his icy-cold hand. "Ask the co-ordinator about the dates they have available."
"Earliest date is the second weekend of September," he muttered, as they slowly walked back toward the house. "Because of a cancellation."
He had asked the moment he stepped through the doors. He just knew this was the place. Judging by the waitlist, a lot of people also thought the same thing.
"That is not for months," Ziva said.
It would be just over ten months away. It felt such a long time.
"Well, we never said we would rush down the aisle," he said.
It looked like it would be fourteen months from the moment he was down on one knee, until the day they were pronounced man and wife. It felt like a lifetime.
"No," Ziva said with a smile. "It just feels like it is very far away. I thought you wanted to beat Dorney down the aisle."
Ned Dorneget had recently announced his engagement to a man named Brian, who had worked with Ellie at the NSA. Tony had said nothing about Dornie's sexuality, but had cracked a joke about people in the line of work being unable to marry outside of the job.
"It'll fly by," he murmured. "Besides there's so much to do, according to my Dad there's a ton of stuff to do, to plan a wedding."
Technically, he too had been involved with wedding planning once before, but he was younger then, and Wendy had a clear vision of what she wanted. All that he was involved in, was signing the cheque, and calling everyone the morning of to tell them it wasn't happening.
"If anyone would know," Ziva stated, as they stepped through the door into warmth.
"Besides, this gives Abby some time to plan my bachelor party," he declared. Softening his voice to a whisper.
Abby had declared she wanted to plan both Tony's bachelor party, and Ziva's bachelorette party, as they were both her friends, and loved them both equally. Tony had been more excited about that prospect, whereas Ziva was not sure if she wanted one. So much of the wedding stuff felt foreign.
Almost everything they had looked at online was meant for big weddings for younger couples with huge extended families. It was all rehearsal dinners, and gift grabbing. They wanted a casual wedding, where everyone was comfortable, so they had vetoed the rehearsal dinner. They had decided early on, was to ask for their friends to donate to charity, if they insisted on provided a wedding gift, as they did not need another plate set. Nor did their friends need the stress of gift giving.
"Yes," she said with a smile. "And. I am sure you will need to sufficient time to recover from that before the wedding."
He half laughed, as his body warmed up, moments after stepping inside. Abby's parties were always wild.
"If it rains," Ziva started, looking around the large sunroom, with a huge rustic dining table. "We could move in here."
That was Ziva, always thinking of the back-up plan, and a contingency. It was helpful and heartbreaking at the same time.
"Yeah," he said, with a smile. "Let's ask about that date in September."
"Yes," she replied. An enthusiastic yes.
The venue coordinator, perhaps sensing that they were ready to sign on the dotted line, appeared out of nowhere. She looked like she had stepped out of a bad nineties movie, with a pastel skirt suit. Tony could not remember the woman's name, and she had told him at least three times.
"Would you like some information about some local photographers, and caters we work with?" the co-ordinator asked. "I believe one of them has Kosher options."
Tony found himself moderately surprised, as the co-ordinators astute observation. Ziva's accent was almost never guessed correctly, and her necklace was hidden under her thick scarf. He wondered for a brief moment, if there were listening devices hidden among the potted plants on the terrace.
The co-ordinator thrust the leaflets in Ziva's direction. Tony knew this scene the co-ordinator was expecting, Ziva was to play bridezilla, while he was the reluctant groom, who did not know his eggshell from his ivory. Old tropes die hard.
"Maybe later," Ziva said. "First, we would like to discuss dates."
The co-ordinator smiled. Smelling the money. Her bleached blonde curly hair bounced with excitement.
"Of course, when were you thinking?" she said again.
"September," Tony started, as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. It rang and rang.
The team were definately off-duty this weekend, so he let the phone ring to voicemail. Ellie was up in Oklahoma licking her wounds after her recent separation, McGee was with his Dad in the hospice. Vance had promised them that it would have to be the apocalypse before they got called in.
Still, Tony, almost felt guilty planning something so joyful among so much of his friends sorrow.
The vibration stopped. Then a few seconds later another vibration indicated that a voicemail had been left. Whatever, it was it could wait.
"Do you still have that cancellation on the thirteenth?" Ziva asked. "Or even something earlier."
"Yes," came the bright reply from the co-ordinator. What was her name? "September is our earliest date."
Ziva's phone started to vibrate. Ringing and ringing. It was too soon after he had ignored his call, for it to be anyone other than his caller. Whoever was trying very hard to get in touch with both of them.
Tony felt a gnawing feeling in his gut. Something had happened. Something bad.
"Maybe, you should get that," he whispered to Ziva.
She finished her phone out from her jacket pocket.
"I'm sorry Sandra," Ziva said turning her direction to the co-ordinator. "I need to take this."
So that was her name, finally revealed in the closing act.
"Of course," Sandra said, but Ziva had already moved toward the other end of the room.
"Hello Abby," Ziva said. Tony made no effort to talk to Sandra, instead he pretended to look at the leaflets, while listening to Ziva. Sandra picked up her own phone, and started tapping away. Her fingernails clacking on the screen. "No, Tony is with me, we are up in Virginia."
Tony turned slightly to watch as Ziva spoke. Her face fell from the smile she was wearing, to a heavy look.
"Oh," Ziva said carefully. "How is Tim doing?"
Tony's ears picked up. What had happened?
"Of course," Ziva said again. "We will be back soon. See you soon."
Ziva took a deep breath, as she slid her phone back into her pocket. Her shoulders were slouched and heavy. Her eyes looked out into the distance, lost in a sea of thoughts.
Something bad had happened, he just knew it.
Tony found himself crossing the room, leaving the leaflets on the table, and Sandra to her own phone.
"Is everything okay?" he asked, moving into her personal space.
"McGee's father died," Ziva reported. He realised the expression she was wearing, was one of sadness. One of empathy. It had not been long, since her own father had died. She was getting swept out to sea, in a tide of resurfaced grief.
He wrapped his arms around her tightly. She leaned into him. Pulling him close.
To have and to hold. Until death do them part.
A/N: I don't own a thing.
Thanks for all the reviews, faves and follows. Both new and regulars. Hi to all the guest reviewers.
The next chapter, will focus on our dynamic duo being good friends to McGee. I am aiming for weekly updates.
As someone who lives in wine country where it doesn't snow, I was surprised to learn Virginia had vineyards. I might have goofed on how long it takes to get between where they are supposed to live, and where the vineyards are, so please forgive me. Also, now my pinterest homepage is full of wedding stuff, because of the research I did for this chapter.