My JAG muse went a little crazy here. It also helps if you've seen the NCIS season 13 finale.
The airport in Paris is busy at this time of day, with flights coming and going and passengers hurrying to collect baggage and reach their next destination. In one of the terminals, there's a small waiting area, and a young woman with dark hair and eyes sits quietly as she watches the activity around her.
She's jostled as another traveler accidentally bumps into her chair, and she looks up to see another woman, a brunette who must be nearly a decade older but still holds youthful beauty and a sparkle in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," the woman apologizes. "I was just looking for a place to sit for a minute."
The younger woman gives the newcomer a friendly smile and motions to the seat next to her. "You are waiting for someone, yes?"
"My husband," the woman replies. "He's supposed to meet me to catch our flight to London, but as usual, he's late." She shakes her head and laughs. "My husband is going to be late to his own retirement dining out tonight. But I guess they wait for you when you're the Force Judge Advocate of Naval Forces Europe."
"Naval Forces?" The words bring on a sudden sharp pang of nostalgia. "Your husband...he is in the Navy?"
"He is."
"And you? You are also military?"
"Marine," she answers with pride.
"Mac!"
The Marine looks up and smiles as she sees her husband making his way through the crowd.
"Sorry I'm late." Her husband is tall and handsome, and there's love shining in his eyes as he leans down, cups her face in his hands, and kisses his wife deeply.
When they finally break apart, the woman hoists her bag over her shoulder and offers a farewell nod.
"I hope you don't have to wait too much longer," she says with a smile.
She takes her husband's hand, and they disappear into the crowd, and the younger woman is left alone in the waiting area again.
And then – finally – she hears what she's been waiting for.
"Ima!"
Tali.
Her eyes grow wide at the sight of her daughter bouncing excitedly, her small hand grasped by another hand much larger than hers.
That hand remains tightly attached to the little girl, but his other hand comes up to caress her cheek, and his lips claim hers in a tender kiss.
"Shalom, Ziva," he whispers breathlessly.
"Shalom, Tony."