#but soft and bittersweet tiva feels always make me think of you!

[justkindaoverhereobsessing]

help me gather mine

Restless and worried in the wee hours of the morning, Tony leaves home to clear his head and finds himself in a synagogue for the second time this week. {missing scene from 10x12 "Shiva" shortly after the death of Ziva's father}

Friend drabble project, this one for my babe @benditlikepress, who is a fantastic supporter and a wonderful friend. <3

Can also be read on ff or AO3

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“A fine glass vase goes from treasure to trash, the moment it is broken. Fortunately, something else happens to you and me. Pick up your pieces. Then, help me gather mine.”

— Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration 

____________________

Tony closes the bedroom door behind him and returns to his makeshift bed on the floor outside the kitchen, tired and feeling heavy with borrowed grief. It comes as no surprise that Ziva dismissed him rather than choosing to talk about her feelings, but something about the way she looked before that, right when she woke up… 

Well, it has Tony feeling unsettled. 

He doesn’t go to sleep once he settles back onto the loaned inflatable mattress; his mind is too busy to relax, instead repeatedly mulling over possibilities and worries, stressing over solutions to problems that haven’t yet been made entirely clear. 

He needs to empty his head, get some clarity. 

He texts Abby after another fifteen minutes of tossing and turning, and despite the late hour, he gets a quick reply… clearly, Tony is not the only team member still awake and worrying, and Abby agrees to his request without question. 

He rises from the blow-up mattress and pulls on a coat over the sweats he wore to bed, then tugs on his running shoes. By the time Abby arrives, Tony is sitting on the stoop outside his apartment waiting for her.

“Thanks for this,” he tells his friend, standing and clapping Abby’s shoulder fondly.

“Of course. Has she…?”

“She woke up with a nightmare, but as far as I know, she went back to sleep. Didn’t tell her I was leaving.”

“Hm. I’m guessing you didn’t tell her you called a babysitter, either, did you?”

“Nope, and I’m hoping she won’t wake up again to find out.”

“Alright. Well, I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Thanks, Abbs. I’m sure Ziva would be fine alone—I mean, she’s not even actually alone, Shmeil’s asleep on the couch—but Gibbs would have my head if I just abandoned my post.”

“You didn’t call me ‘cause Gibbs was worried, Tony.”

Tony doesn’t dignify that with a response. “I’ll be back in an hour, two tops,” he says instead.

“Be careful.”

“You, too.” Tony pauses, and then adds: “If anything happens, if anyone shows up, Ziva can obviously hold her own, but… just in case you need it, there’s a gun taped to the back of the toilet.”

They nod at each other—the heaviness of the week’s events keeps even smartass Tony from making any jokes—and Abby slips into the apartment while Tony heads out of the building. 

His feet tread a familiar path as he automatically settles into following his jogging route; it’s a good thing, too, because he’s not very focused on where he’s going. Instead, he lets his chaotic thoughts start to whir again, nudged toward organization by the mild distraction of exercise. 

The urgency of the team’s quiet investigation into Eli’s death has kept Tony from thinking too deeply about what’s really concerning him here: Ziva, and everything that she must be feeling. Oh, he knows they’ll get to the bottom of the shooting at the Vance house—they always do, in the end. And he’s certain that they’ll get whoever is responsible for it. But for Ziva… None of this will ever be neatly tied up and boxed away for her, no matter how the investigation ends. 

Tony has known for a long time that his partner’s relationship with Eli is—was—complicated at best. Until tonight, however, he had been focusing on what she told him when he found her after pinging her phone: she wants revenge. Of course, Ziva hadn’t been lying then, and her words are undoubtedly still true—but her nightmare tells Tony that she’s also just grieving. She’s hurting deeply, even if she won’t admit it to anyone other than herself. Maybe she’s not admitting it to herself, either, though, and maybe that’s part of the problem. 

Tony can feel her slipping away. Rage and mourning are slowly eating away at her rationality, leaving behind someone whose behavior he can’t predict. He’s afraid of what she’ll do next. 

That concerning thought is interrupted when something unexpectedly catches Tony’s eye, drawing him back to where he is.

A few meters back from the sidewalk, tucked away in a large, darkened building, there’s a single brightened window. Light passes through thick, translucent panes to spill onto the ground below, leaving on the grass a thin column of luminescence broken by only one thing: the shadow of an unlit menorah resting just on the other side of the glass. 

The familiar shape makes something clear: whether by fate, coincidence, or simple subconscious choice, Tony’s restless wandering has led him to a synagogue.

He’s not sure why, but something about the place draws him in—maybe it’s just a stronger-than-ever desire to understand Ziva. Whatever it is, though, it makes Tony leave the sidewalk, his feet passing noiselessly over a manicured lawn as he drifts closer to the window.

Inside, past the menorah, someone is visible. A man sits in profile, staring studiously down at an open book as he turns a page. Though it’s going on four in the morning and the rest of this particular sleepy neighborhood has been at rest for hours, something about this man seems… unhurried. Relaxed. Peaceful, even.

I could really use some peace right about now, Tony thinks. 

Without letting himself consider all the reasons that he shouldn’t, Tony turns to his left and bounds up the steps leading to the synagogue’s entrance. Then he knocks on one of its large doors. 

For a moment, nothing happens. Then a face appears in the lit window that Tony can still partially see from where he’s standing—it’s the man who had been reading, and he looks at Tony in confusion. 

Tony waves awkwardly, trying to look as non-threatening as possible, and after a pause of clear deliberation, the man in the window gestures something along the lines of ‘hold on a second.’ He disappears from view, and shortly after, Tony can hear footsteps behind the door directly in front of him. Then there’s the sound of a lock sliding free. 

The door opens just a little. “Good evening. Can I help you?”

Tony isn’t sure what to say without sounding insane, but he tries. “I, um, I was out walking, and…” He sighs. “Are you a rabbi?”

“I am, yes.”

“Any chance we could talk? Like, now?”

Tony can dimly see the other man evaluating him and considering, and he finds himself really second guessing his impulsive decision to knock. To his surprise, though, the rabbi only pauses temporarily before opening the door further to admit him. 

Tony sticks his hands awkwardly into his pockets and walks in, glancing around. This is not the same synagogue he found Ziva at recently, but even in the low lighting, he can tell that this one has a similar setup. 

The rabbi interrupts Tony’s musings by brushing past him after re-locking the thick door. “This way,” the man requests softly. Then he leads Tony down a hall and into a large, almost cavernous room where Tony thinks services must take place. After motioning Tony into a pew, the rabbi sits down himself and looks at the restless agent expectantly. “Okay, we can talk here. I’m Rabbi Aviyah Silverman—you can just call me Rabbi Avi. And you are?”

“Tony DiNozzo.”

The rabbi nods. “Alright, Tony… what’s on your mind?”

Tony shakes his head. “I don’t even know,” he says, feeling displaced and wrong-footed. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I’m not even Jewish.”

“I could tell that the moment I saw you.”

“How?”

Rabbi Avi smiles with a touch of humor at Tony’s expense. “For starters, you’re not wearing a kippah, but maybe more to the point, you look… very uncertain about being here.”

Tony laughs ruefully—he really can’t argue with that astute observation—and he finds that the other man’s straightforwardness relaxes him a little. “You’re not entirely off-base, I guess,” he admits. “Before this, I’ve set foot in a synagogue maybe a handful of times in total.”

The rabbi dips his head again, looking thoughtful. “Well, something led you here. What were you thinking about when you decided to knock?”

“A friend.”

“What about them?”

“She, ah…” Tony hesitates and then sighs. “She’s just going through something difficult. I’m worried about her, and I don’t know how to help.”

“Has she asked for your help?”

Tony snorts, trying to imagine that impossibility. “No. That’s not really in her nature.”

Rabbi Avi lets out a quiet half-laugh. “Without knowing exactly what’s going on, there’s a limit to how much advice I can give, but… let me say something general that I think you may need to hear.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“There are things in this life that a person must face for themselves—and by themselves. That isn’t to say you should abandon your friends, but some demons live inside the mind, and sometimes, they’re too personal to fight while someone else is watching.”

“So you think I should just... leave her to it?” Tony asks, trying to work out the implications of the metaphor. “Let her deal with it alone?”

“Not at all. What I’m suggesting is quite the opposite, actually.”

Tony frowns. “Then what—”

“Remind her that you’re there for her! Even the battles we fight by ourselves leave us drained, right? If you’re up pacing the streets of Washington in the middle of the night because you’re so concerned, you must care about your friend. Feeling supported might give her the strength she needs to do what she has to do without you… so, tell her that when she finishes with whatever that is, she has you to fall back on.”

“She knows.”

“Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t, but a reminder couldn’t hurt.”

Tony finds all of this to be surprisingly logical, and he nods in agreement, staring up at a large Magen David hanging in a place of honor on the far wall and thinking of the one Ziva wears around her neck. “Surprised you’re not telling me to pray about it or something,” he jokes softly, his gaze and his thoughts still far away.

Rabbi Avi chuckles. “Proselytizing isn’t a very Jewish thing to do. Besides, no one ever walks in here looking to be told to pray.”

Tony smiles a little. “I wouldn’t know how to, anyway. Ziva—my friend—would probably be able to teach me… She is Jewish.”

“I see why you ended up here, then.” Rabbi Avi reaches under his seat and pulls out a siddur, offering it to Tony. “If you decide you want to try your hand at praying, this is full of prayers and blessings to choose from. What I think you really need, though, is some time alone in a quiet place to think.” He rises from his seat, and Tony pulls his eyes away from the unfamiliar text in his hands to look up at the other man. “My office is down the hall on the right,” the rabbi continues. “I’ll be in there if you need me, but if you don’t, stay as long as you’d like.”

“Thanks, Rabbi.” Tony offers a hand to shake, and Rabbi Avi accepts it.

“Any time. You’re a good friend, Tony. Don’t let yourself worry so much that you forget that.”

Tony isn’t sure what to say to that, so he offers a small smile of appreciation. As the rabbi walks away and Tony glances back at the thick book in his hands, though, the sight of English text and Hebrew text lined up together offers sudden inspiration. “Hey, Rabbi Avi?”

“Yes?” The rabbi pauses just shy of the door they walked in through. 

“How do you say ‘you are not alone’ in Hebrew?”

____________________

The sound of airplane engines fills Tony’s ears as he walks slowly toward the tarmac; somewhere under those bright fluorescent lights, one of those planes is waiting to carry Ziva away. 

Ziva herself stands back toward the gate, something making her linger even as she sends Shmeil on, and Tony, catching the tail end of the conversation, wonders what it is. Maybe it’s just dread for the tasks ahead of her, something Tony can understand. 

“Go with him, Shmeil,” Ziva is saying as Tony walks up behind her. “I will be there in a moment.”

Shmeil, kind and good-natured as ever, brushes that off. “Take your time. It’s a long flight. Besides,” he adds, making eye contact with a half-smiling Tony over Ziva’s shoulder, “I think someone’s come to see you off.”

As Ziva turns, following her elderly friend’s gaze, Shmeil departs. Tony only has eyes for Ziva, though, noticing that she’s entirely unsurprised to see that it’s him. “You did not have to come,” she tells him quietly.

“Well, you always forget your gum and magazines when you fly, so…” Tony’s weak joke gets no more than the distant hint of a smile in return, so he stops trying for levity. “They’ll find Bodnar, Ziva. Mossad’s looking, CIA, Navy Intel, Interpol... us.” He hopes that Ziva understands just how much support and care and promise is hidden in that last word.

Us. 

Whether his intent is clear to her or not, though, Ziva doesn’t say anything back.

“Shmeil’s got your back,” Tony tries again—anything to engage her. He gives her a smile. “Shmeil, the man of steel.” 

Still, Ziva doesn’t speak. Her expression, carefully neutral, doesn’t shift, either. That more than anything else worries Tony... Ziva hasn’t always been overly impressed by his often childish sense of humor over the years, but rarely has she failed to react at all. This time, she doesn’t laugh; she doesn’t huff; she doesn’t even roll her eyes. It’s almost like something is weighing on her so heavily now that the effort of rising to his bait is beyond her capabilities.

It’s like something inside her has broken under the heaviness of grief and of expectation. 

Swallowing back a deep, bone-aching worry for his friend, Tony sighs, unable to stop himself. “Don’t do this,” he begs, his voice dropping to a whisper, and he finally gets a response out of Ziva. 

“I am going to a funeral, Tony,” she informs him with a slight nod, as if he doesn’t already know. “I am delivering my father’s eulogy.” 

That’s as clear an answer as any, and it’s probably all that Tony is going to get—she’s shutting him out again, and no matter how she felt about her father while he was alive, she will do what she must. It’s time to give it up, to stop fighting her or trying to help her. 

It’s time to follow Rabbi Avi’s advice and just… be whatever Ziva needs him to be. 

He can do that. “How’s this for a… an opening line: ‘He did it his way,’” he suggests wryly.

Ziva studies Tony’s face, and a small amount of the tension in her body seems to release. That’s enough to tell Tony that he’s doing the right thing. “My father was, um… not an easy man to understand, and yet…” Finally, she smiles a little.

“Complicated runs in the family,” Tony concludes.

Ziva hesitates, looking away for a few beats. “Tony, I…” She trails off rather than finishing, but she meets his eye again.

“What?”

He has rarely seen Ziva as vulnerable as she is then… Her lips twitch briefly, forming words that remain unspoken, and her eyes are a little too bright to be empty of tears; a smile emerges and then fades above her trembling chin as she fights for something intangible. In the end, though, her obvious struggle draws to a close when she reaches up to hug her partner tightly. 

Tony’s arms raise automatically to hold her back; her face presses so securely against his neck that he can feel it in her cheek when she smiles. This embrace alone, secure and trusting and intimate, might be nearly enough to knock his breath out, but then an unanticipated thought pops into his head and threatens to steal his breath entirely…

He loves her. 

The realization, though unexpected, doesn’t come as a shock. Of course he loves Ziva, even if he has never stopped to think about it. She’s his best friend and has been for a very long time. 

Tony won’t do her the disservice of telling her now, though. She has enough on her plate without having to field any heartfelt confessions tonight.

Instead, Tony tells her something that means the same thing.

“At lo levad.”

You are not alone.

Ziva tightens her embrace for a fleeting moment before releasing Tony and stepping back. There’s a smile on her face and tears in her eyes, and when she answers in a whisper, Tony thinks she might understand what he meant by it. 

“I know.”

Not waiting for Tony to say anything else, Ziva turns away, heading purposefully toward the plane carrying her father’s body; then she’s gone. 

Still and quiet, Tony stares after her, worrying about her and missing her already.

He doesn’t turn back until her plane has disappeared into the dark sky, long out of sight.

[tonysziva]

Second hardest 180 of my life

Thanks @talisbirthdaychallenge​ for prompting me to write again, it was a long time since I wrote a bit of fanfic and I had a great time. Besides, this is such a cute way to celebrate Tali and to bring together creative and talented people in this fandom.❤️I incorporated the birthday cake, the zoom call, the head-slap™, an old inside joke, a blood relative on Ziva’s side, a pie to the face (actually cake if it counts), a song that makes me think of Tiva, an airport, a new dress and someone laughing until they cry. 

English is not my native language so maybe I may have left some accidental mistakes or wrong idioms lol.

“Imaa, where is my brush? I told you I would pack my own toiletries and..” How agitated Tali was. Being and 18 year old headed to college was not and easy task. She sat down on the bed, Tony watching from the doorframe.

“Slow down Tee, we have still plenty of time to figure out what you will put in your college boxes, besides, today we celebrate your birthday with grandpa Gibbs isn’t that exciting?”

He received death stare from his daughter. He did not expect parenting a teenager would have been this hard. Yes, Tali sure has always been a very sweet and kind child but since she wasn’t a child anymore, her character changed, her true colors started to show. Sometimes she reminded him of himself when he was her age but she most definitely inherited her mum’s sassiness along with the bravery and kindness.

Tony watched her as she slowly began to soften her expression. Although she was soon off to college, she would forever be his little girl, the same one that he watched sleeping every night in their tiny Parisian loft. Things changed since they moved back to DC when Ziva joined them again many years ago but he couldn’t help but keep on seeing that little girl in her.

“Yeah, I guess” she smiled. “dad?”

“mhh?” 

“will you and Ima miss me when I go away?”

In that exact same moment Ziva reached her husband. She took his hand.

“Of course Tali, nothing will change and you know you will always be welcome back home”

“Besides” Tony interrupted “I’ll miss having someone around who actually gets my jokes and has the same taste for movies” he said teasingly. They all hugged as Tony begun tickling his girls. He knew they both had that week spot and he loved hearing their giggles. He always knew his wife had a soft side to her and seeing her grow through the years as a mother made it clear to him that he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else by his side.

It was tradition like every year that the whole family reunited to celebrate Tali’s birthday. Of course it would have been at Gibbses place. Oh how much he spoiled that little girl of his. He cherished every moment with his grandchildren, Victoria, Tali and the twins but somehow Tali was the special one, also given the  delicate situation she had been through.

Also like every year it was a tradition that Senior would gift Tali a dress for her birthday and that year would be no different. He had a good taste and always sent the best fabrics for his favorite granddaughter. Her light blue knee length long sleeved dress matched perfectly with her light olive skin, and the dark blue dots were absolutely delightful, matching her bubbly personality. 

Tony and Ziva decided back then that it would have been better for Tali and for them settle down definitely in DC, since a little help from their friends would always be nice. But through the years it was clear they made the perfect choice seeing how much Tali and Gibbs had bonded. She spent many afternoons after school with him since he retired from NCIS, and came to swear to know the secret to how Grandpa Gibbs got the boats out from his basement, to which Tony tried to get it out from her in every way.

“Happy birthday Kid” Gibbs hugged her as they arrived at his home. He hugged his two former agents, who he considered his kids all the way. Not always had there to be blood to connect people as family, especially at NCIS. Unfortunately a difficult case at work kept the rest of the fam from coming but there was another surprise for Tali. On a pc Mcgee managed to instruct Gibbs on how it functions there was an Incoming Zoom video call.

Tali could not believe her eyes : “happy 18th birthday dear Tali” Uncle Tim, Uncle Jimmy, Jack, Ellie and her husband Nick the wuss, as Ima still jokingly called him, were all there. She was soooo happy gosh that was a nice surprise. They excused themselves for not being there and Tali understood because she knew what being a very special agent meant.

They opened presents, ate and laughed, even more so as Gibbs presented his homemade cake. And since it revealed itself to taste horribly, Tali and Ziva could not resist but smash some cake into Tony’s face. It was such an hilarious scene for everybody except for Tony who desperately tried to remove it from his hair. It was a long time since Gibbs had seen such an hilarious episode and what was even more rare was seeing tears forming in Gibbses and Tali’s eyes, they could not stop laughing at Tony. It was one of those moments which Tali would have cherished for the years to come.  

Late night arrived. The evening at Gibbses place had been great but back at home Tali started to become more and more agitated. Her parents immediately noticed.

“What’s wrong mon coeur? Is everything alright?” Ziva’s mom senses jumped in.

“yeah it’s just… I was wondering- her light brown curls now shaking with her head- i was just wondering what if I wanted to become and agent like you and Dad and Gibbs and everyone else?” Tali knew it was a very hard topic to touch since she heard her parents argue several times over which path would have been best for her. She was now old enough and really wished her parents knew what she longed for after college, the fact that that world has always called for her.

Tony and Ziva looked at each other knowing that maybe that moment would have come.

“well Tali you must know that when I was introduced to the team I was still very young and it all happened when”

 “yeah i know when uncle Ari was sent here to kill Gibbs I know the story Ima”

“yes. When we talked about you taking this path we were afraid, you know it’s a work full of threats and”

“and full of pretty coworkers” Tony added smirking.

Ziva smiled to his husband annoyed. “that’s not the point, but you get it Tali. We don’t want you to get hurt but…if that would make you happy then we’ll support you and of course, you would learn from the very best.”

“like your mother said I was once Very special agent Anthony DiNozzo and…” he was shushed by his wife throwing a big pillow at him and everyone bursted into a laugh.

“my Tali remember, you will be everything you are meant to be” Ziva caressed her daughter’s cheek.

 “thanks Abba, Thank you Ima” how grateful they were for their not anymore little girl.

The day arrived when they had to accompany Tali to the airport. It took Tony all of his power not to cry at the breakfast table as he hummed “slipping through my fingers” from Mamma Mia in his head. Ziva on the other hand was better at hiding it, even though she always hated goodbyes. Well it wasn’t technically a forever goodbye but knowing that the nest would be empty from that moment on left a bittersweet feeling In her.

“i can’t wait to meet my roommates” was all Tali could say as they were about to say goodbye, her eyes now watery but full of resolution.“i will miss you but I’ll promise I’ll call as soon as I land.”.

“And if any boy tries to break your heart you’re still going to tell your old dad aren’t you Tee?” Tali promptly head-slapped her dad just like Gibbs did for many years. it was actually the very first time she did it and it felt oddly satisfying. they could’t help but laugh.

The family hugged one more time before parting. As they were walking away Tony had to intervene:

“Funny how this is the second time I leave from an airport without Tali” a nod to that evening at the tarmac. And again “guess this is the second hardest 180 of my life”.

His wife stared lovingly at him. “she will be fine, let’s go home Tony”. She rubbed his back ant took his hand. Everything was okay.