Marseille, France

It was perfect.

The soft glow of the candle on their table only added to the brilliance of the space. As it flickered to the soft tune of the grand piano, the melody gently wove its way around the patrons, Ziva knew it had been worth it. She had spent hours on the phone with Abby trying to find the perfect place for what she had planned. It had seemed almost impossible—well, almost as impossible as keeping her plans secret from a partner like hers. There were a few close calls and getting the reservation had almost felt like life or death, but she had managed to surprise him with this night out as a 'gift' from one of her old contacts.

Now, they sat at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the restaurant's garden. Her eyes moved from the garden to Tony. They had finished eating and were now waiting for their desserts. When their eyes met, she couldn't help the smile that danced on her lips. Tonight, they would start a new chapter in their story—a story that, by all accounts, should have ended several times. But here they still were, with Tali as a physical sign of the love they had for each other.

In her heart, she knew she only ever wanted to be with Tony. After he had spent years fighting for and finding her, it was her turn to show him that it wasn't just him—she would fight for them and their family. This was their forever—she was sure. The only thing left...

"Let me stop you right there."

Her eyebrows furrowed, and the smile that had played at her lips slowly faded into a fine line. What did he mean? Instinctively, she straightened her back. Did he know? How? She couldn't read his expression, which only gave way to a thought that hadn't crossed her mind until now. What if he was content with things as they were? Before any other thoughts could feed the rapidly building anxiety within her, she watched as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black jewellery box.

"I've been lugging this around for the last few weeks now, but I didn't want to run you off again."

Ziva squinted at him.

So that was it. He had figured out what she had planned and now wanted to beat her to the thump.

Without saying another word, her eyes never leaving his, Ziva mirrored his actions by reaching into her bag and retrieving an almost identical box, though the one she had picked out for him had a gold strip running around its base. She placed the box opposite the one he had also placed on the table.

The lighting was dim, but they didn't need it. They knew each other well enough—neither would back down.

For how long they stayed like that, she wasn't sure, but finally, Tony leaned back and smiled. "Alright, I'll play you for it."

"How so?" Ziva asked, curious.

"First one to get an answer wrong gets proposed," Tony clarified, his arms now coming to fold in front of his chest casually.

Ziva raised an eyebrow, "Alright, if you don't mind?"

Tony gestured for her to begin. "Ladies first."

The smile returned to her face once more, she knew exactly where to start. "First time I Gibbs-slapped you?"

Tony chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. "First and only time, might I add. We were trying to clear McGeek's name, and after you nearly T-boned into another car, I said what we were all thinking but Gibbs gave you the go-ahead."

"First movie night?" It was her turn.

"A week after Gibbs left for Mexico. I seem to remember you inviting yourself over to my apartment," she felt her eyes softening at the memory.

"Good times," The smile that now adorned his face as the memories also seemed to be playing before his eyes caused a warmth to slowly emanate from her chest

"First kiss?" She asked the nostalgia threatening to overwhelm her as she thought of their 'first kiss'.

"I seem to remember a swanky hotel room and the two of us as married assassins. Tony leaned in, "Sweet cheeks." He added the last part with a grin.

"très bien, my little hairy butt." They both smiled; after all these years, they hadn't retired those names, though they rarely used them now.

"Alright, first case together?"

Ziva raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think I would forget your phobia of the Civil War?"

"It's not a phobia," Tony almost groaned. "Just an outright disdain for grown men dressing up and acting like idiots in a war that was already won."

"If you say so. I'm sure it has nothing to do with you having to carry around that latrine bucket," Ziva shot back, barely containing the fit full of giggles ready to erupt at a young Tony carrying around said bucket.

Tony grimaced slightly, clearly not wanting to relive that memory. "Your turn," he said, eager to move on from the unpleasant thought.

"Fine. first time you realized I could kick your ass?"

He let out a laugh. "That first time we sparred in the gym when you just arrived—you flipped me so fast I didn't even have time to blink. I felt like Neo in The Matrix when he realizes he's not the one in charge of the fight. That's when I knew you weren't just all talk."

"Speaking of kicking ass, first fight?"

Ziva paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she sifted through the memories. There were many fights between them, some more costly than others, but it didn't take her long to realize where their first real fight had been. They weren't together at the time, but while they were there, it had given them a chance to be open, if just a little, with each other. She had learned of the hard lesson Tony had with his piano teacher, and he had figured out that her history with her father was a ticking bomb waiting to explode. Right after, it had been the first time she ever cooked for him.

"When we were stuck in that shipping container for hours. And as I recall, we didn't just have one."

"that's for sure and hopefully the last time you'll fire off a round in a closed off space" Tony nodded,

"I did protect you" Ziva said ignoring the slight jab at one of her least finest moment. "First time we met?"

"October 18, 2005," He responded without missing a beat. Tony wouldn't forget that week—losing Kate, almost losing Abby and Gibbs; and without him realizing it at the time, he had met the Ilsa Lund to his Rick Blaine.

"The first time I found you?"

"September 22, 2009." Ziva's voice softened. That day, the moment Saleem had lifted the hood and she had seen him, her heart had started to beat again, and for the first time in months, she could breathe. She would never forget it.

"What was the name of our hotel in Paris?" Ziva asked ready to reroute their line of questioning.

"Hôtel Royale." Tony answered, he too seemed ready to move away from memories that might threaten to ruin their night.

Her eyes squinted once more, as she could recognize a glint of mischief now swirling in his eyes, what was he up to?

She watched the triumphant smirk play at his lips as if preparing to declare victory.

"Flight number for our first trip to Paris?"

"237. 'The same as our room," she said, struggling to keep her composure. It took every ounce of her strength to remain calm as she mirrored his relaxed posture, leaning back in her seat. With her arms delicately resting in her lap, she gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, savouring his look of complete disbelief that she would recall such a seemingly insignificant detail.

At that point, it was war. The questions became more and more absurd as their voices rose as neither wanted to be outdone.

Tony was about to ask another question when the waiter approached. "excusez-moi, je suis désolé monsieur et mademoiselle but you're disturbing the other guests. May we ask that you refrain from raising your voices or perhaps take it outside?"

They looked at each other and grinned.

"Let's take this outside," Ziva suggested.

….

The night air was cool as they stepped onto the cobblestone street. Tony reached for her hand and brought her closer to him, "I have a feeling this won't be the last time we get kicked out of somewhere."

She smiled, melting into his embrace.

"What now?" She looked up into his eyes, marvelling, not for the first time, at how after all they had been through, they were right here, right now.

"Same time?"

She nodded, and they slowly released each other before retrieving their respective boxes and exchanging them.

"Three, two, one."

They opened the boxes simultaneously.

Tony's eyes fell on the inscription inside his ring—the date he had rescued her from Somalia. He looked up at her, a question in his gaze.

She smiled softly; her voice steady. "That was the day I knew my heart would only ever belong to you. No matter where I was, or what happened, I knew I couldn't live without you."

Tony swallowed; his emotions thick in his throat as he glanced down at Ziva's ring. "Mon vrai nord"—"My True North"—was engraved in delicate script. He met her gaze, his expression tender. "This is my promise to you. No matter what happens next, no matter where life takes us, I will always find you."

They both smiled, their hearts full, their paths forever intertwined. Without another moment's hesitation they both said what their hearts had been wanting to say since long before this night.

"Yes."

…

"Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."

Romans 10:13

A/N: Thank you all for stopping by!

P.S. I am currently still working on the next chapter for Finding Home, I hope I can get it to you asap