#factoffictionwriter

[hopeless-nostalgiac]

Last Line

Tagged by: I'm sure I missed a tag from someone at some point...

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words.

Like hell he was gonna squander this perfect collision of desire and timing and opportunity and…planets aligning, probably, in a quick screw against his front door.

Tagging: @mrsmungus @earanemith @loudlooks @factoffictionwriter @indestinatus @wanna-be-bold @mcgeekle @easylion @wafflesetc @paperclipninja @glenanneswesten ...not quite 27, but if you want to be, consider yourself tagged!

[red-and-frantic]

so @tumbleweedpalmer and @factoffictionwriter had the idea of someone writing a fic about tony and ziva coming back to help jimmy after breena’s death, so i may have written it...

[factoffictionwriter]

Cold Tiles and Warm Air

Ziva wasn’t usually one to stare. 

Yes, she possesses a healthy appreciation for the male form. And yes, she has often found herself indulging in said appreciation through various pursuits with her most appealing lovers. 

But staring? It just wasn’t her thing. Touching, kissing, stroking… these were all forms of intimacy she could get behind. But leave her to look - just look, not touch - and she typically grew antsy. Or worse: Bored. 

She was finding that, as with just about everything else, Tony was the exception. 

“I feel you watching me.” 

“Hm.” 

He didn’t bother turning around, so she didn’t bother looking away. It was funny how quickly they’d changed in the wake of dropping all pretense.

“Take a picture.” 

“Huh?”

“It lasts longer.” 

She wants to laugh. And she wants to roll her eyes. But instead, she shifts so she’s leaning a bit higher on the door frame, and brings her thumb to her lips to chew absently on the very edge of her nail. 

He leans forward, reaching for one of the plastic bottles lining the front wall of the shower. The movement causes water to run down the muscles of his back in a broad and hypnotizing pattern. 

When he stands up straight, his shoulders shutter and he instantly reaches for the tap. 

“Jesus, Ziva. As much as I love being the object of your undivided attention, I’m gonna need you to either be in the bathroom or out of it. You’re letting out all the warm air.” 

He finally looks at her over his shoulder. With dark eyes and water dripping off the spikes of his hair. She finds herself stepping forward and closing the door behind her back without actually deciding to do so.

Read more on ffn

[parischangedher]

Last line tag

Rules: Share the last line you wrote for a WIP

tagged by @factoffictionwriter! (I love, love, love your stories so thank you for tagging me!!)

“Is that right?” he asked playfully, eyebrows raised. “Now where have I heard that before?”

tagging: @wanna-be-bold

[ineedabettername2124]

These tags 🏷 by factoffictionwriter; a masterpiece

God I love these shots.

[sylokis]

[03.06 - the voyeur’s web]

@factoffictionwriter

[justkindaoverhereobsessing]

Tony worrying about Ziva at the end of Dagger, 6x9

for @factoffictionwriter​

[wanna-be-bold]

37 and 42 for the asks!

37. First person or third person - what do you write in and why?

Third person. Every time. I just don't like 1st person because it makes me feel like I'm in the story and if I'm writing it's about other people.

42. List and link to 5 fanfiction authors who are amazing:

I can't just pick 5 so I'm giving you some favorites from each fandom:

Ellick:

@hellokaelyn AO3

@onlyhereforellick AO3

@tiffanytheweirdo AO3

@enchantedbooklover18 AO3

Tiva:

@indestinatus AO3

@justkindaoverhereobsessing AO3

@hundan AO3

@factoffictionwriter

Densi:

@ejzah ff.net

@mashmaiden ff.net

@glenncoco4 ff.net

Ask me here!

[bamboo72498]

Smooth Like a Fine Wine

a Season 10 Tiva AU written for my buddy @factoffictionwriter

Under a cut, because long. Enjoy!

The phone rings, again. And Tony groans, again. And when Ziva finally answers it, and though he remains focussed on his computer screen looking up information on their latest case like a good little agent, Tony actively spies on Ziva; listening in on her conversation, most of which was in Hebrew. 

He catches a few words, tonight, home, and dinner, but it’s what Ziva says as she ends the call that makes him look up so fast it’s a wonder how he didn’t get whiplash. 

“Ani ohevet otcha, Ima.” 

It’s not until Ziva hangs up the phone and goes back to work that Tony pipes up.

“So-” he starts, trying to be casual. “That was your mom?”

“Yes, what does it matter to you?”

“Well, if that was the same person who’s been calling here all day, annoying everyone, I was curious as to who it was, that’s all,” he shrugs. 

“Were you listening to my conversation, Tony?” Ziva asks, exasperated.

“No! What. I would never!” Tony splutters. But off his partner’s look, he caves. “Okay, fine: Yes, I was listening in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me your mom was in town?”

“I did not know myself until this morning that she was coming. Something about ‘not wanting my father to know’,” she says, adding the air quotes. “Those two do not get along, and if my father knew my mom was coming, he would not be pleased.”

“So you two are having dinner? That’s sweet,” Tony nods. “A little mother-daughter bonding is always nice.”

“It is,” Ziva agrees. “We have not seen each other in a while. It will be nice to catch up.”

“So, is she staying long? I’d love a chance to meet the woman who birthed the amazing Ziva David.”

“Why? So you can tell her embarrassing things about me? Not a snowman’s chance in the desert, Tony.”

He wants to correct her, he really does, but chooses not to. “Come on, I promise I’ll be good! Only good stories.” He sounds like a child, and it makes Ziva smile. 

“How about a compromise? You can join us for a drink tonight. But, you must be on your best behavior.”

“Scouts honor,” Tony nods, cheering to himself on the inside. 

[][]

The restaurant she sends him to looks way too swanky to be appropriate for their plans that night. But then he remembers Ziva is the daughter of the head of Mosad, and thus Ziva could get them into any place without question just by mentioning her dad. 

He hands off his care to the valet, straightens his tie, and goes inside. After not spotting them, and checking with the hostess, Tony waits, and after a few minutes he sees Ziva and her mom coming up the walkway, Ziva’s car being driven off by the valet. Tony is quick to open the door for them, and the surprise on Ziva’s faces makes him smile. 

“You’re early,” she comments. 

“Wanted to make a good first impression,” he says. “Ladies: after you,” he waves them inside, missing the smiling eye roll Ziva gives him. 

“Ima, this is my partner, Tony DiNozzo,” Ziva introduces. 

Rivka David was stunningly beautiful. The same olive skin and dark eyes as her daughter, though she wore glasses hung on a jeweled chain, the same wild, curly hair. She was maybe an inch or two taller than Ziva, and held herself with such grace and confidence that the gold dress she wore seemed to float around her body like it was always a part of her. “Tony, it is so nice to finally put a face to the name,” Rivka said. Her accent reminded him of Ziva’s when she’d first joined NCIS and it made him smile to find another similarity to the two. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Tony says, shaking her offered hand. “And can I just say: you raised an amazing girl.” He sees Ziva blush and holds her eyes as long as possible before she looks away. 

“Thank you,” Rivka agrees. “Her father had some input on it, but not much,” she laughs at Eli’s expense. 

The hostess leads them to a table, and Tony waits until both girls are sitting before sitting himself. 

“And for you, sir?” their waiter asks about drinks.

“I’ll take wine, please. Whatever red you have on special today,” Tony says. 

“Of course, sir. I’ll have those drinks out shortly.”

They continue talking the second their waiter walks away. It’s so easy, the three of them. Nothing awkward or unseasy, just fluid conversation as if they’d done it for years. Tony makes Ziva’s mom laugh recounting a tale about his first time on a Navy ship and touching things he wasn’t supposed to. And Rivka embarrasses her daughter with a story about her first crush with she was nine-years-old; how she’d brought him a teddy bear at recess and had to watch as the boy ripped the head off and used it as a soccer ball. Needless to say: young Ziva was heart broken and said she’d never talk to another boy ever again. 

When it came time to order food, Tony decided to take his leave, and gathered his things. 

“No, no. Stay, it’s alright,” Rivka scolded. 

“No, I don’t want to intrude on your dinner. Ziva told me you guys haven’t seen each other in a while. You need to catch up alone,” He said, staying true to their bargain. “It was really great meeting you,” he says, shaking Ziva’s mom’s hand, while his other rested on Ziva’s shoulder, squeezing down for a second, rubbing her bicep. He slid into his coat, smiled to his partner and left. 

“Well, he was very nice,” Rivka said suggestively once Tony was out of earshot. 

“Ima, don’t go getting any ideas. He’s my partner,” Ziva says, trying to keep her red face hidden. It had gone better than expected and Ziva wished Tony had stayed. Wished he could stay for all her family dinners. 

“I didn’t say anything! Though, the way he looked at you, he wants to be more than partners. And you do too, no?

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know,” Ziva splutters. “It’s complicated. Our boss had rules against partners dating.”

“Rules are made to be broken, Ziva.”

[hopeless-nostalgiac]

Last Line Tag

Tagged by @mrsmungus and @loudlooks

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words.

They took turns running recon outside the hotel, then warming the other up with more body friction than was strictly required.

Tagging...I’m not sure who writes regularly anymore. @factoffictionwriter @indestinatus @wanna-be-bold @mcgeekle @easylion and anyone else! 

[factoffictionwriter]

Tiva Fic Amnesty #14

More from Chaval Extras. Things to know: Ziva has 2 Aunts back in Israel whom she took Tony to meet. The Aunts are friends with Shmeil as well. Oh, and Tony and Ziva are totally a thing. Like a thing thing.

“Wait a second. So I wasn’t imagining it? Ziva really did have a motorcycle?” 

Shmeil nodded enthusiastically, “My Ziva had a motorcycle before she even learned how to drive!” 

Tony chuckled to himself, “That explains a lot, actually.” 

“What explains a lot?” His beautiful Israeli asked as she breezed into the room, delicate looking teacups in either hand. She carefully handed one of them to Shmeil before crossing the room to take a seat next to Tony on the couch. 

“I was just telling Anthony about your, shall we say, preference for dangerous modes of transportation.” 

Her eyebrows came together as she wracked her brain for what he could possibly be talking about. But when she saw Tony’s smug little grin beside her, she put the pieces together. 

“The motorcycle?” She asked. 

“Oh yeah,” Tony chimed.

She eyed him warily, “Remember what I said about stories being exaggerated? Keep that in mind.” 

He just laughed at her. 

“What is so funny, Anthony?” Nettie asked as she too emerged from the kitchen, her two sisters trailing behind, each with their own teacup.

“Ziva was just about to tell me about her motorcycle.”

“Oh, goodness. Why would you want to hear about that horrible thing?” Adina asked as she settled into the couch across the room. 

“Because he is a man,” Shmeil laughed, “And men like two things: hot women and fast vehicles.” 

Tony nodded, “And this story promises to have both.” 

“Very well then,” Nettie sighed as she sipped on her tea.

“We do not know where she managed to get such a horrible contraption, much less how she managed to keep it secret for so long,” Hinda was giving Ziva a disapproving look, “But somehow she managed to drive that thing to school every day for an entire year before we even knew it existed.” 

“She parked it a few spaces down from her father’s car in one of the neighbor boy’s spaces. Lord knows how she convinced him to let her have such a coveted spot,” Nettie shook her head. 

“I can think of a few ways,” Tony whispered to himself, but Shmeil managed to hear it. 

“David women can be quite convincing,” the old man winked at Tony, causing his smile to grow wider. 

“Anyways, we never would have even known about it if she hadn’t gotten in that accident.” 

“Which was not my fault, by the way,” Ziva added. 

“They never are,” Tony remarked, sending her a look of such pure adoration that she couldn’t help but forgive his jab. 

“Okay, but this one really was not. The man should have looked over his shoulder. Even I look over my shoulder when changing lanes.” 

“And how fast were you going, dear?” Nettie asked, the stern look on her face telling him she already knew the answer.

“That is not important. He still should have looked.” 

“I seem to remember the officer telling us you were going 110 mph… in a 45 mph zone,” Adina provided helpfully. 

Tony let out a long whistle before pausing, “Actually, I’m not that surprised. That does sound like something you would do.” 

She rolled her eyes, biting back a tiny smile. 

“She was thrown clear across the highway. A couple more feet and she would have rolled right off the cliff and into the sea below.” 

Ziva just shrugged, “I walked away with a few scratches.” 

“If by scratches you mean 3 broken ribs and road burn up your entire left side,” Hinda corrected, “But yes, you were able to walk away. You were very lucky.” 

Tony leaned into the couch cushion, slowly sliding his hand over to rest it on her side, right where he remembered seeing a long patch of scars, mostly faded until they looked like delicate white flames dancing across her skin. 

She nodded slightly in his direction as if confirming that the marks were, in fact, the remnants of this exact accident. 

“Tali would not go near the thing,” Nettie spoke, breaking up the moment between the couple on the couch. 

“Of course Tali wouldn’t go near it. She was smart. She understood the concept of danger,” Hinda acknowledged. 

Ziva let out a quiet huff as she leaned back against the cushions, and inadvertently his arm. 

“Yes, but I understood the concept of fun.” 

Tony let out a hearty laugh at her comment before smoothly transitioning it into a cough when the aunts shot him disapproving looks. 

“You only truly understood how to piss off your father. Let this be a lesson to you, Anthony. When you have children, do not rule with an iron fist, lest they turn out to be anything like their mother.” 

“Doda!” Ziva cried, sending Adina a truly incredulous look. 

---

“Did you ever get the chance to meet Eli, Anthony?” Nettie asked. 

He felt Ziva stiffen beside him, and took that as a sign to proceed with the utmost caution. 

“Yeah, I did. A couple of times, actually. He… wasn’t a big fan of me.” 

“Nor you of him, I assume,” Hinda offered. 

“I think Eli David was a complicated man�� in a complicated situation. It’s really not for me to judge. I will never understand exactly what he was going through.” 

“It is quite alright, Tony. You are surrounded by fellow Eli-haters here. I am sure there is nothing you can say about the man that Ziva has not already heard from one of us,” Shmeil assured him. 

Ziva’s shoulders heaved as she let out a long sigh. 

He watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye as he spoke, “I obviously don’t agree with many of the decisions he made, particularly in regards to his children. But at the end of the day, I think he was doing what he thought was best. He just happened to be wrong.” 

“He just happened to be wrong?” Hinda spat. 

“Doda…” Ziva warned. 

“No, Zivaleh. I am tired of listening to Eli’s excuses. He may have brainwashed you into believing them, but I will not let you bully Anthony into believing them as well.”

Tony sat forward, sliding his arm out from behind Ziva and resting his elbows on his knees, “She hasn’t bullied me into anything. Well - she has - but not with this. I just think that I’m coming at the situation from a bit of a… different angle than the rest of you.” 

“How so?” Shmeil asked. 

“Well, for starters, I didn’t meet Ziva until after Eli did a number on her. I can sit here and listen to you guys tell stories about her tending to a garden or flying off a motorcycle, but I’ll never fully understand what she was like back then.” 

“All the more reason you should be upset,” Hinda grumbled. 

Tony shook his head, “How do I explain this…” 

He looked around the small living room for a few seconds, trying to find some sort of inspiration for-

“Star Wars!” He exclaimed. 

Five heads all turned in his direction, their eye brows furrowed in confusion. 

“A movie. Really?” Ziva asked from beside him. 

“Not just a movie. A series. 7 movies. Filmed and premiered out of order. 3 movies, then 3 prequels, only to return back to the original timeline for the new one.”

“I do not follow,” Adina sighed. 

“Okay… it’s like you guys are watching the series in chronological order, and I’m watching them in the order they premiered. And you,” he pointed a long finger at Ziva, “are Darth Vader.” 

She looked confused, “The guy with the mask?” 

“Exactly,” he brought both his hands up to cover his mouth, creating a deep echoing sound as he pulled out his oldest and most adored character impression, “Luke, I am your father.” 

She had to focus hard to keep the corners of her mouth from curling up into a small smile. They both knew that she would never admit it, but she liked his little impressions. She thought they were cute, even if they were annoying. 

But then she remembered the single Star Wars film he had forced her to watch after one of his million references went over her head, and her face fell a little, “He is the bad guy, yes?” 

“No. Well, yes. But no. That’s just what they want you to think. In the original series, he’s portrayed as a total monster who betrayed his friends and killed his father. It’s not until you get to the prequels that you realize, hey, this Darth guy isn’t so bad. In fact, he was just a normal Jedi until his master took advantage of him and made him a monster.”

“And as the series comes to a close, he gets one of the most epic redemption arcs in movie history when he realizes that he had been duped into using his powers for the wrong side and then kills his master to save his son,” he turned back toward the Aunts, “So, if you guys watched the prequels first, then you would have already known that Darth was actually a good guy before he joined the dark side, making his fall all the more dramatic. But when I watch it in the order that the movies were made, I can’t help but think about how different the story would have been without that corrupt Jedi Master.” 

“And this changes your perception of Eli… how?” 

“Well, when I met Ziva, she was already a Mossad super spy. And yeah, the more I learned about the way her Dad treated her, the more I started hating the guy. But I will never be able to see him the way you guys do because without him, I likely would have never even met her.” 

“Because without what happened in the prequels, there would have been no need for the original series,” Adina nodded along as she slowly made sense of his convoluted explanation. 

“Exactly!” he flashed a dazzling DiNozzo grin at the older woman, thankful that at least someone had been able to follow his train of thought. 

[parischangedher]

this love came back to me.

Ideas/Requests/Tags: “Plot twist: Tony and Ziva took the couch in Paris. Together.” -- @factoffictionwriter @tivajunkie @coffeedepablo

So...this took a turn. It’s not at all realistic, but realism left this show a long time ago, really. Otherwise, they would’ve been canon years ago. But I digress...

TW: very brief mention of Somalia

Word Count: 5.8k

Links: AO3/FF

“Allons-y, ma chérie!” Tony exclaimed as he dropped their bags on the floor of the hotel room. 

It was classically Parisian, he thought as he took in the space. The suite was adorned with gold wallpaper and a small chandelier. On one end, there was a wide window above an inviting king-size bed, a desk, and a television. On the far side, where Ziva was currently sitting, was a matching sofa and armchair. They were the type that looked far more decorative than comfortable, complete with dark wooden frames and old fabric pulled taut.

“Où, mon petit pois?”

He grinned at the old moniker and raised his eyebrows playfully, stepping a bit closer and offering his arm. “You show me.”

Ziva laughed. “Tony, we have work to do. This is not a vacation.”

“We have nothing to do until tomorrow, Zee-vah. Come on, it’ll be fun.” He paused before continuing, his eyes meeting hers. “If it helps, I will give you complete control of our itinerary. We can avoid all the tourist spots.”

She considered his request more carefully, then. Whether it was the way he was staring at her, the fact that they were thousands of miles from home, or that they were in one of the most passionate cities in the world, she couldn’t tell. But, before her common sense could kick in, she smirked, stood and stepped closer to him, tilting to expose her neck suggestively as she always used to do.

Lowering her voice a few octaves, she thickened her accent and completed her assault on his personal space. “Complete control, huh?”

Tony’s smile fell for a split second as he subconsciously stood straighter, clearing his throat and quickly remembering what it was like to play with fire. 

“That is, uh, what I said.”

Ziva made a show of glancing down at his lips before meeting his eyes again and quickly backing away, her face and voice returning to normal. “Okay.”

She gathered her phone, badge, weapons and wallet while Tony remained still. With three words, he was transported back to four years ago, when he first met the only woman who could intimidate him, who could match him blow-for-blow without batting an eye. (Besides his mother and divorce lawyers, who don’t count.) 

 Ziva turned back to face him and smirked, again.

“Tony,” she said, stepping closer and putting a hand on his cheek. “Are you ready?”

Her touch snapped him out of it. Smiling, he responded.

 “Oui, mon Ziva. Après vous.”

+++ 

“You have to be kidding,” Tony exclaimed as he strolled down the cobblestone streets in the most under-rated parts of Paris with Ziva on his arm. 

They had spent the afternoon in a whole other world--one in which their normal boundaries seemed incredibly out-of-place. Investigating small shops, hidden bakeries and quintessential sights when they were off-duty built an atmosphere of intimacy. It encouraged personal conversation about everything from daydreams to childhoods.

Ziva smiled and playfully rolled her eyes. “I am not, Tony. We were a little too busy training to have the time for stuff like that.”

“That’s just, like...a sin,” he said. “It’s something you have to experience at least once. What if your kid wants to do it someday?”

It took everything in Ziva not to freeze at the question. Instead, she slowed and only allowed her smile to fade slightly. She knew it wasn’t his fault, not really. He was just making conversation. She was the one with the issues.

Sensing his mistake, Tony backed off and quickly changed the subject, asking questions about the best food she had in Paris and whether customs would allow him to bring it back to the States.

+++

Her jaw dropped when she exited the bathroom, her hair still wet from the shower and her body clothed in the lace pajamas she may or may not have packed on purpose. Just in case.

“What is all of this?” she asked, incredulous at the sight before her. 

The bed had been stripped of its blankets and pillows, which had been expertly relocated to the floor in front of the couch. Above it, a sheet lay draped neatly across the sofa and armchair. The lights were dimmed and a small stack of movies was on the end table.

“Over here,” Tony said as he poked his head out from under the sheet, flashing her one of his classic grins. 

Ziva smiled back, still confused and remaining still. “Tony, I--”

“Come on. I have a bribe,” he said as he held up a bottle of red wine.

She rolled her eyes but obliged, sliding onto the blankets and facing him. She pushed a stray curl behind her ear and looked at him expectantly. “Well?”

“Well,” he replied as he poured a generous amount before handing her the glass. “This way, we won’t fight about who gets the bed.”

"Tony,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “You and I both know we would not have fought over the bed.”

Tony laughed to himself and looked down, suddenly finding the pattern on his shorts very interesting. “Yeah.”

“So?”

“So,” he started again. “I just thought that, as your partner, I should make sure that you’re prepared for all scenarios.”

“Tony,” she said again, putting her hand over his and encouraging him to look at her. 

He finally met her eyes and smiled sheepishly. “Okay. Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. It didn’t come out right.”

“So...you built one of those pillow huts you were talking about to make it up to me?”

“Fort. A pillow fort. And...yes.” He searched her eyes before nervously continuing. “What do you think?”

Ziva smiled softly with a look in her eyes that was too scary for either to name. She was deeply touched: No one had ever done anything this thoughtful for her before.

“I think--” she started as she brought her hand up to cup his cheek. “--that it is a perfect introduction to the world of pillow forts.”

+++

Two hours later, with the movie over and the wine bottle emptied, Ziva lay flush against Tony’s side. His arm wrapped lightly around her waist as her head rested on his left shoulder.

"Do you want children, Tony?”

“I--” he started, absentmindedly running his hand down her arm. “I suppose, someday, it might be nice. Assuming I can do better than Senior, of course.”

"Of that I have no doubt.”

They stayed in comfortable silence for some time, enjoying the intimacy of the moment and the feeling of lowered walls.

“What about you?” he asked quietly.

She sighed. “I...I do not know. My life was, as you know, complicated, growing up. It still is. I do not think I would be the best example.”

“Ziva David,” Tony stated, tilting his head back a bit to look at her. “You would be an amazing example.”

She rolled her eyes and drew circles on his chest, avoiding eye contact. “That is sweet, Tony. But you and I both know it is not true.”

“You tell me a reason you think so, and I’ll shoot it down with a thousand to the contrary.”

 “Well, until today I never experienced a pillow fort. You said yourself that it was an essential prerequisite to parenthood.”

“Ziva,” he said softly, moving his hand to her cheek and encouraging her to look at him.

She reluctantly met his eyes with misty ones of her own, immediately recognizing the same loving look that she gave him earlier. Of course he wouldn’t accept that deflection.

She contemplated changing the subject, as they usually did when things got too serious. But in that moment, in his arms in the middle of the night in Paris, she felt...safe. For the first time in a long time.

Or maybe it was just the damn fort.

“Tony,” she smiled sadly. “I was raised to be a killer. A spy, a heartless soldier.  And for most of my life, that is what I was.”

“You are not heartless,” he replied. “Even if that was true at some point, it’s not anymore.”

“Maybe,” she said. “That part of me likely died in...in Somalia. But it does not change what I have done.”

“You can’t let your past--especially the parts that were influenced by being the daughter of Mossad’s director--control you now. You deserve better.”

Ziva scoffed. “Not according to some people.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“Vance.”

“What did he say? He will regret it.”

“No, Tony. I do not want to visit you in jail.” 

She hesitated before continuing. She had not voiced this to anyone, and she still wasn’t quite sure that she should--especially to him. 

When the hood had been lifted, she suddenly realized that she truly could not live without him. Although the rational part of her knew that he felt the same--he told her himself, after all--she was scared to do or say anything that might make him think less of her, or treat her differently. Or not want her anymore.

But, studying his face--full of raw emotion, safety and something that looked a lot like unconditional love--somehow made her brave.

“When I returned--when you brought me back,” she said slowly, heart pounding in her ears. “He said that I was damaged goods. He was not wrong.”

“Screw him,” he said immediately with fire in his eyes. “You are not.”

“I am, though, Tony. Even if you do not count anything I did while working with Mossad,” she said, her voice shaking. “Being in Somalia...what Saleem did...hurt. He and his men...they left their mark.”

She looked at him again, this time letting a stray tear escape. He wiped it away and interlaced his fingers with hers, kissing the top of her hand.

“I’m so sorry, Ziva.”

"I know.”

His watery eyes bore into hers, desperately trying to send all the love he had for her into her soul. 

“But, even that does not make you broken. You’re not...damaged goods.”

She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. His heart ached as he saw the internal battle raging in her.

“You trust me, right?” Tony asked softly.

“Of course I do.”

“Look at me.”

When she finally did, he continued.

“You’re the strongest person I know, Ziva. You have gone through unimaginable horrors and made it through the other side. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you a survivor, and for that reason alone, you will make an excellent mother someday.”

Ziva nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak as a few more tears slipped down her face. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you, Tony,” she said quietly as she settled back against him. He gently rubbed her back and kissed her hairline, hoping he alleviated at least a little bit of her self-doubt. They stayed like that, talking softly and enjoying the embrace, until sleep eventually claimed them both.

+++

“Just put it on the counter, Tali,” Tony instructed as he unlocked their apartment door and stepped inside.

“Okay, Abba,” she said as she placed a grocery bag in the kitchen and rummaged through its contents. “Can we watch a movie tonight?”

Tony chuckled and rubbed a hand through her hair. “Are you kidding? Why did you think we bought extra ice cream?!”

After they finished putting the food away, Tali and Tony walked into the living room, the latter frowning at the sight before him. Pillows, blankets and comforters were piled haphazardly on the floor in front of their sofa, and their spare sheet was draped awkwardly across it and two kitchen chairs.

“Tali, how many times do I have to tell you to please clean up after you’re done playing?” 

“I didn’t do it!”

“Tali,” he said sternly, about to chastise her for lying, when she ran to her room and shut the door. He turned to follow when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

“She is right, you know,” Ziva said, crawling out from under the sheet with a shy smile on her face.

Tony’s jaw dropped at the sound. He turned to finally see his love, standing in front of him, in his apartment, alive.

“Ziva.”

“Hello, Tony,” she said. “I am sorry. I meant to be finished before you came back. But, I have never actually made one of these before. It is much harder than it looks.”

Tony smiled with misty eyes and stepped closer, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist. Ziva’s smile grew wider as she put her hands around his neck, basking in his presence. His face looked a bit older, his hair a bit grayer, his eyes a bit wiser--but he still radiated calmness, safety and love, much to her relief.

“It’s really over?”

She nodded.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

He pulled her flush against him and touched his forehead with hers, tightening his grip to make sure she was actually real. She slowly looked down at his lips and then back up to his eyes, leaning in a bit--a silent, hesitant question. It was one that Tony answered immediately when he gently cupped her jaw and met her halfway. 

Unlike their goodbye kiss, their heated ones in Israel, and their time undercover, this embrace was slow and strong. Tony’s tongue begged for entry, which Ziva happily granted. He cradled her head in his hand and deepened the kiss, never wanting to let go; her skin burned under his touch. She moaned quietly when he moved from her lips to her neck, briefly sucking on her pulse point before reclaiming her mouth. Ziva ran her hands under his shirt and up his back, causing a shiver down his spine. They spent several minutes reacquainting themselves with each other, reveling in the moment until she eventually broke away.

“Now that is a hello,” she said, breathing hard.

Tony chuckled and ran a hand through her curls. “Well, we have a lot of making up to do.”

“I know. And, we have a lot to discuss,” she replied, avoiding eye contact as fear started to rise. “Despite that lovely greeting, I do not want to presume anything, Tony.”

“Hey,” he said warmly, gently stroking her cheek and leaning in close. “We will talk. About everything. But right now, I am just happy to see you. I’m still not sure this isn’t a dream.”

She smiled weakly but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Ziva...It might take time--and a lot of work. But, I will do whatever it takes to make us okay. There is absolutely no way I’m losing you again. I promise.” He paused briefly before continuing. “I don’t have a choice, really. I can’t live without you. I tried. I couldn’t.”

“And I you.” She met his eyes, then, with watery ones of her own. She put her hands on his shoulders. “I am not sure what I did to deserve you.”

“See? We’re on the same page already,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Ziva chuckled and cupped his jaw. 

“Shall we let her know she's off the hook?”

"I suppose,” she said, her anxiety rising again. “Does she remember anything?”

“It’s hard to tell. But, no matter what, she knows all about how strong her mother is, and how much she is loved. I made sure of that. I even taught her--and myself--a little Hebrew.”

Ziva smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Tony. Now, I know that I do not deserve you.”

“Cut that out,” he said with a playful glint in his eye. “Or I’ll make you stay in that fort until you do.”

“Is that a promise?" she asked, glancing quickly down at his mouth again.

Tony smirked, raising his eyebrows and thoroughly enjoying the first flirtatious moment they’ve had in years. There was still a lot to discuss, feelings to express and questions to ask. But, for now, with her in his arms, everything was perfectly aligned. They stayed like that for a few moments until Tali came bounding out of her room, evidently tired of waiting for her father.

Ziva froze as she took in the sight of her daughter up-close for the first time in three years. She was even more beautiful than she was before, if that was possible, with all the best parts of her and Tony. Her heart ached for the missed time, and it pounded as everything she had been working for was finally happening. This was it.

“Tali,” Tony said, breaking away from Ziva to meet her at the entrance. He took her small hands gently in his. “Listen, I’m sorry I yelled at you before. I know you didn’t make a mess.”

Tali grinned. “I forgive you.”

"Good,” he laughed. “And, honey...there is someone here who would really like to see you. Is that ok?” She nodded but looked at him curiously as he stepped aside and gestured to Ziva.

She made eye contact with her mother and studied her carefully, as only the daughter of a trained spy could. Ziva smiled softly and stood still, not wanting to spook her. Eventually, Tali recognized the necklace and instinctively raised a hand to clutch the one around her neck.

“Ima?” she asked hesitantly.

Ziva broke into a wide grin as she nodded, raising a hand to grasp the pendant. “Yes, Tali, it’s me.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyes bright with possibility despite the touch of disbelief.

“Yes, ahuva sheli. Bo Hena?” she asked, opening her arms and gesturing for her to come.

Tali grinned and ran into her mother’s arms. Ziva knelt down to meet her and hugged her tightly. Gently stroking her back, Ziva buried her face in her daughter’s hair and started to sob, finally able to release the breath she has been holding for three years.

“Why are you sad?” 

Ziva chuckled and pulled back a bit from Tali to look at her. “I am not sad, Tali. I am crying because I am happy. I am so, so happy to see you."

“I’m happy to see you too,” Tali said softly, reaching out a hand to carefully touch the pendant around Ziva’s neck, as if it was made of glass. It was a sharp contrast to the yanking of a toddler that she remembered.

If it was possible for a heart to explode with joy, it would have done so in that moment. Ziva wiped her face and couldn’t stop smiling.

“Is that for me, Ima?” Tali asked, eyes wide as she took in the mess in front of the sofa.

“Yes, Tali. Ken.”

Tali grinned and took Ziva’s hand, pulling her over to the fort. They ducked inside and Ziva waited as Tali took in the space. Tony watched from a distance with a wide smile, wanting to give them both the time they needed.

“Toda, Ima. I love it! Can I eat the ice cream in here after dinner?”

Ziva laughed. “I don’t see why not. But we should probably ask Abba, too.”

Tali grinned and stuck her little head out from under the blankets, just as Tony had done years ago. “Abba!” she yelled.

“Yes?” Tony replied.

“Can we eat the ice cream in here later?”

“Of course, kid.” 

Getting the answer she expected, Tali popped her head back under the sheet and turned to face Ziva.

“Ima?” she asked shyly, fiddling with a thread on the blanket as her previous smile faded. The novelty of her mother’s reappearance wore off and was replaced with questions that only Ziva could answer.

“What is it, tateleh?” Ziva asked nervously, trying to ignore all the dark possibilities that immediately sprung to mind.

Tali looked away, then--a move she must have inherited from her mother--and paused before answering.

“Why did you leave?”

“Well,” Ziva started, her pulse racing as she tried to find words that would make sense to her. “What did Abba tell you?”

“He said you had to do something very important.”

“That’s right,” she said. “There were some...bad people who were mad at me. So, I had to try to fix the problem and let you stay with your Abba for a while.”

Tali nodded in understanding beyond her years. “So you had to keep us safe?”

“Yes.”

Ziva saw the fear in her daughter’s eyes, which almost broke her heart. “Come here, Tali. Bo hena,” she said, holding her arms open.

She obeyed, snuggling against her mother and burying her face in her shirt. Ziva stroked her hair softly. “Everything is better now, Tali. You, and Abba, and I are all safe. It is over. And I am so, so sorry I had to leave you for so long. Please forgive me, ahuv sheli.”

Tali nodded into Ziva’s chest. “Where are you going now?” she asked apprehensively, tightening her grasp around her mother.

“I’m not going anywhere, Tali. Ani lo e’zov. I promise.”

Tali leaned back a bit, a heavy weight off her growing shoulders. She raised her hand to gently grasp the Star around her neck.

“You probably need this back then. Abba said it was yours.”

“Oh no,” Ziva replied, shaking her head with a soft smile. “It is yours now, Tali. It looks beautiful on you.”

She grinned, finally, and hugged Ziva again. “Toda, Ima. Ani ohev otach.”

“Ani ohev otach, tateleh.”

+++

After making dinner, eating ice cream and watching Frozen, Tony and Ziva had finally convinced Tali to sleep. It was strange, having their bedtime ritual joined by the missing link in their trio. But somehow, it was also as natural as ever. Tali reveled in spending the day with both of her parents, showing Ziva all of her drawings and talking endlessly about how much she liked Olaf. Ziva tried to let Tony take the lead, as he was the one who had been raising her for the past three years, and she didn’t want to intrude or usurp him. But he would have none of it, consistently telling Tali to ask her mother what she thought, encouraging their bonding and stepping back to let them begin to make up for all the lost time. They were stumbling blindly through this new reality, taking it one moment at a time--but they were doing it together, as partners, just as they always had.

They spent a few hours after putting Tali to bed enjoying each other’s company, not yet daring to breach any sensitive topics. Still, they were content, lounging with the television in the background. Tony’s feet were up on the coffee table as Ziva’s were folded under her; her head rested on his shoulder with his arm around her back.

When a half hour passed without a comment from Ziva, Tony turned slightly to sneak a glance. He smiled when he saw her nearing the brink of sleep.

“Hey,” he said, just loud enough to rouse her. Ziva blinked a few times and looked at him with sleepy eyes. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to his bedroom. Or, their bedroom. Maybe.

Ziva opened her mouth to object, as they had not yet discussed sleeping arrangements--among many other things. She did not want to disrupt his life more than she already had. The words died on her lips when she saw the intense, loving and determined look on his face.

She smiled back and obliged, following him into the room and graciously accepting his old Ohio State t-shirt to use as pajamas. 

They climbed into bed and reached for each other without hesitation. Turning to her side, Tony immediately followed and pressed up against her back. Draping a protective arm around her side, he pulled her close. That from any other man would have felt threatening, but after everything, Ziva had never felt more at home.

+++

Tony awoke to the feeling of loss. Realizing that the space beside him was cold and his bedside companion was missing, he sat up straight and tried to quell the rising panic.

He threw the sheets off, pulled on a t-shirt and opened his door, walking through the apartment until he saw a lamp on in the living room.

“There you are,” he said in relief as he walked to the entrance of the pillow fort.

Ziva smiled apologetically and reached out her hand. “I did not mean to worry you.”

Tony smiled back and climbed under the sheet with her. “You okay?”

“Not really.”

“Bad dream?”

“Something like that,” she said quietly. “We need to talk.”

“Now?”

“Yes. If you are able, of course,” she added hastily.

"Whatever you need, Ziva.”

She made eye contact with him then, letting him see the anxiety, fear and regret sketched all across her face. It looked like she’d been crying. He took her shaking hand in his strong one, waiting patiently for her to begin.

“I am so sorry, Tony.”

“I know,” he said, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. “I got your letters from Odette.”

“I thought as much, when you did not shoot me out earlier.”

“Throw you out. And I would never do that. No matter what.”

Ziva squeezed his hand. “Are you...are you angry?”

“No. Well, maybe a little bit.”

She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Tony. What I did is almost unforgivable. You have every right to be furious.”

“Operative word being almost, Ziva,” he said softly, stroking her hand with his thumb. He paused for a moment before continuing. “I was angry, when I first found out about Tali. Of course I was. But that was also tangled up in confusion, denial, and grief. It’s hard to pick it all apart.”

“I am sorry about that too.”

“Hearing the news about your ‘death’...even though I had my doubts from the beginning...it almost killed me, Ziva. It probably would have, if it wasn’t for her.”

She nodded but said nothing, urging him to continue.

“I understand why you did it. I do. I know that once the threat began, you were trying to protect her, and that you believed the best way to do that was to keep a low profile and eventually use the attack to disappear.”

“But?”

“But,” he continued. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me the moment you found out you were pregnant. Did you really think that little of me? That I wouldn’t want to know?”

His eyes bore into hers, exposing the pain and rawness that he had been suppressing since she broke into his apartment. She wiped a tear from her face and forced herself to respond. Not to run.

“Of course not, Tony. I knew you would have been perfect. Honestly,” she said sadly. “I do not think there is any reason in the world that could justify what I did. I will always regret it.”

“Try me.”

Taking a deep breath, she tried her best to explain her deeply flawed thought process.

“After you left Israel, Tony, I was not doing well. I thought that spending time there would help me heal, bring me closure. Help me put an end to everything I hated about myself. I was wrong.”

He said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“Instead, it just made everything worse. I convinced myself that you--that everyone, really--would be better off without me. I thought that little of myself. Not you. When I found out I was pregnant, I did not know what to feel. There were days when I wasn’t even sure I would keep her. It was...a very dark time,” she admitted.

“I still deserved to know, Ziva,” he said, his voice breaking.

She put her hand on his cheek and felt his stubble underneath her fingers. She gave him a pleading look, one that begged him to understand what was not understandable and forgive what was nearly unforgivable.

“I know. And, I eventually figured that out too. Having her, holding her in my arms, allowed me to finally dig myself out of the dark hole I found myself in. It was then that I realized what a horrible mistake I made. But by then it was too late. The danger was already present. I simply could not risk it.”

“And then of course, once I heard of the pending attack, I knew that I had to disappear. There could be no doubt that I was dead, or they would have used Tali against me. They would have used you against me. So, I did the only thing I could do. I faked my death, and I sent Tali to the only person I could ever trust to protect her. And...you know the rest.”

“You didn’t have to do that, though. I could have helped protect you.”

“I know you could have. But I simply could not risk anything happening to you, Tony. Leaving Tali without both of her parents, or leaving myself without--without you. I just could not take that chance.”

He said nothing, still processing what she said. She waited patiently for as long as she could in vulnerable silence.

“Please say something, Tony.”

A tear escaped and traveled down his face as met her eyes. She padded it away and took his hands in hers.

“We really screwed this up, didn’t we,” he said.

“I suppose we did.”

“I am sorry too, you know.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t have left you in Israel to wallow by yourself, Ziva. I should have stayed with you, if you didn’t want to return. Or at least made more of an effort to check in on you.”

“Tony,” she said sadly. “I did not want you to. And you had your whole life in DC.”

He laughed softly, running a hand through her hair. “That’s where you’re wrong, sweetcheeks. I left my life in Israel--I left you. And her, although I didn’t know it then.”

He paused before continuing, not wanting to stumble this next line. “At ha’or shel hachayim sheli, Ziva.” 

[You are the light of my life.]

Ziva smiled and leaned forward, kissing his cheek.

“So what now, Tony?”

“Now, I think we should really try to get some sleep.”

“Tony,” she said, clearly not quite finished with the conversation. “I need to know what it is you want.”

He studied her briefly before responding.

“Well, that depends. Do you promise not to run again?”

“Yes. Ani lo e’zov, Tony.”

[I won’t leave.]

“Good. Then...come here,” he instructed, rising and stepping out of the fort. Ziva did as he requested. He led her over to the bookcase and turned away to rummage through an old shoebox he kept at the top.

“I saw this when Tali and I first arrived in Paris,” he rambled as he continued, increasingly frantic. “And I knew it was a long-shot, probably a stupid idea, but I didn’t care, really. I just had this feeling that I--”

“Tony,” she said, exasperated. “Please answer me.”

“I will. Right...now,” he said with a wide smile as he finally found the object of his search.

He turned to face her with a wide grin on his face. “I never thought I’d have the chance to use this. Hoped. But I never thought it would actually happen.”

Ziva smiled softly, still a bit confused until he opened his hand to reveal a small  velvet box.

Her jaw dropped when she realized his intentions. “You’ve had that all this time?”

“Yes.”

“Tony, I...I do not want you to do something impulsive, or feel a sense of obligation, or--”

“Ziva," he said, his eyebrows raised. “I promise you that I’m not, and I don’t. I got this because I knew that if I were to ever find you again, I wanted to be ready.”

She was silent for a moment, processing his response. “I...I do not know what to say right now,” she said, laughing softly to herself as her eyes started to grow misty.

“I’ll take that as my cue, then.”

Their hearts both raced as he lowered himself to one knee. 

"The past six years and, especially, the last three, have been the hardest of my life,” he started. “But, what they’ve taught me is simple. We’ve wasted so much time, and I don’t want to spend one more second without you. So...what I want--or, what I need, really--is you. Us. All the good parts and the bad parts, forever. If that’s, of course, what you want.”

Ziva smiled wide as she wiped her eyes. “That is the only thing I want.” 

He smiled back and stared deeply into her eyes, exposing his nervousness and vulnerability as he opened the box. He let out a shaky breath as he prepared for the most important question he’d ever have to ask. 

She saw the worry in his face and stretched out a hand to cradle his head, nodding in encouragement. “Ask me, Tony,” she said quietly.

With a new bout of courage, he gently took her hand. “I know we still have a lot to discuss and work through. I really wasn’t planning on springing this on you so fast after you got back. But, our timing has never been good anyway, I guess,” he chuckled to himself.

“None of that matters, though. The only thing that does is that I love you. I have for years. I am hopelessly, hopelessly in love with you. And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I do. So...Ziva David, will you marry me? Titchatni iti?”

“Yes” she said immediately, grinning as the tears she had been holding back flowed freely down her face. “Yes, a million times over.”

He grinned like a kid on Christmas morning as he placed the ring on her finger. As soon as he did, she pulled him up to her and kissed him deeply. He returned the embrace and pulled her closer to him, marking the beginning of the rest of their lives.

“I love you too, you know,” she whispered when they finally broke apart. “I have for a long, long time.”

Tony smiled and stroked her cheek, both reveling in the happy silence for a few moments.

“Come here,” she said as she started to pull him away from the shelf and walked backwards toward the bedroom.

“Finally ready to sleep?” he asked lightheartedly, following her without hesitation. He’d follow her anywhere.

She smirked, tilting her head suggestively and shooting him a look that could set water on fire. “Not in the slightest.”

He grinned and bit the corner of his lip. “Good. Neither is your fiancé.”

[indestinatus]

Tiva in every episode // 3x13 Deception

in which Ziva casually looks at Tony to see how he reacts before copying his body language and pretending nothing ever happened.

for @factoffictionwriter

[wanna-be-bold]

Tagged by @hellokaelyn

RULES - We're snooping on your playlist. Set your entire music library on shuffle and report the first 10 songs that pop up. Then choose 10 victims

I'm In - Keith Urban

Covered Wagon - Miranda Lambert

A Little Home - Rascal Flatts

Use My Heart - Miranda Lambert

Chillin It - Cole Swindell

Walking In Memphis - Lonestar

Your Everything - Keith Urban

Lettin the Night Roll - Justin Moore

Storm Warning- Hunter Hayes

The Day You Stop Looking Back - Thomas Rhett

Tagginng: @glenncoco4 @mashmaiden @chicgeekgirl89 @ryan9098 @indestinatus @delicatefalice @ncis-ncislafan @gingerstorm101 @factoffictionwriter @benditlikepress

[factoffictionwriter]

Tiva Fic Amnesty #4

Just a few marginally related flirting scenes that were too short of post alone. 

“Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo’s phone,” Ziva chimed into the speaker as she walked toward the bedroom door and pulled it shut, locking it with a wicked smirk on her face. Tony watched her from where he was sitting on the bed, back up against the headboard.

She listened to the person on the other end, slowly walking toward the bed and leaning her knee against it, “I’m afraid he is busy, McGee. Can I take a message?”

She crawled saucily toward him, catching his eyes and maintaining contact as she listened to her former teammates' explanation. She threw a leg across his hips to straddle him when she approached.

She leaned back, making him squirm at the - uh - pressure on his lower stomach, and walked two fingers up his chest as she clucked her tongue in disapproval, “Sorry, Tim. Tony can’t come in to work right now. He’s about to do something very important.”

She traced her fingers down his jaw before feathering them across his cheek, the dark desire in her eyes making heat spread across the back of his neck.

Her hand dropped from his face as she looked toward the clock on the side table, “I suppose I can send him in after he has finished.”

He ran a hand up the back of her thigh, letting it rest just below the curve of her ass.

She looked back at him and smiled at his action, “I will tell him. He should be there in an hour.”

He pulled on her leg, causing her to lean forward, hovering over him as she balanced on her hand place right next to his head. He moved his grip to her waist, causing the thin material of her shirt to ride up and reveal the ever-growing bump on her lower stomach. He ran one of his hands over it, appreciating its size and roundness, before dropping it lower to dip under the fabric of her silky panties.

She bit her lip, blinking several times before she remembered she was on the phone. She held back a groan and exchanged it instead for a content sigh.

“Make that two,” she practically whispered into the microphone before ending the call and leaning over to put the phone of the table.

“Thanks,” he mumbled as he brushed loose hair out of her face.

“For answering your phone?”

“For getting me out of work.”

“Oh, Tony,” she mused as she ducked her head to press her lips to the soft skin just below his ear, “You may not be going in to the office yet, but trust me, you are going to do work.”

---

“I should have gotten one of these years ago. Babies are total chick magnets.”

“Down boy,” she teased as she drew in close to his side, sliding a finger through one of his belt loops, “Am I going to have to put a ring on your finger to keep you subdued?”

His eyes sparkled as he watched her brush a stray curl out of Tali’s face before leaning up to press a kiss to one of her small, fat baby hands, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

She winked at him before holding up her arms, wordlessly asking him to hand over their daughter. He did so reluctantly before bending down to pick up the diaper bag which had been discarded in all the excitement of college girls fawning over the baby.

“I missed you, einayim sheli,” she held Tali up in the air before bringing her down to plant a huge kiss on her cheek, “Did you and Abba have a good day together?”

“Well, she came out in one piece, so that’s good,” he mumbled as he tossed the bag over his shoulder and moved to slip his other arm across hers. Babies weren’t just chick magnets, and he had seen more than one young, good looking college guy turn her way since he handed her Tali.

She rolled her eyes, “I told him you’d be fine. He is a better father than he realizes.”

---

He pushed her back against the metal wall, capturing her lips in a kiss and letting his hands slide up her side, causing her shirt to ride up and expose the soft skin of her lower stomach. 

She responded enthusiastically at first, before seeming to come to her senses and realize where he intended for this to go. She pushed at his shoulders, separating their lips and causing him to move on to licking and sucking on the sensitive skin of her neck. 

“This is not happening. We are not conceiving our child in an elevator, Tony.” 

He moved to face her, amusement brimming in his expression, “Okay. How about the break room?” 

“No.” 

“Copy room?” 

“No.”

“Supply closet?” 

She pushed back against him harder, but the soft smile on her lips told him he wasn’t in too much trouble, and she ran her fingers along the collar of his shirt, “We are going to make this child in a bed, just like we did the last one.” 

“Hm. Are you sure it was in a bed? Because, from what I remember, it could have been the bed… or the shower… or the couch… the kitchen table… the kitchen floor…” 

She pulled his lips to hers, smiling through the whole kiss. She wrapped her arms around his torso and pulled him against her, thankful, yet again, for the gift of being married to a man who was not only her lover, but her very best friend, and the only one who knew just how to make her laugh, no matter how ridiculous the situation. 

She pulled away one final time, untangling his arms from around her and moving to turn the elevator back on. She didn’t say anything as it ascended to the second floor, just straightened her blouse and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to remove the signs of their activities. She felt him step up behind her, not touching her aside from his chest just barely brushing her shoulder while they waited for the door to open. The elevator came to a stop, and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. 

“You know, the back seat of my car is surprisingly roomy.” 

“The same back seat that we drive our daughter around in?” 

“She sits in a car seat. She doesn’t actually touch the leather. Besides, if we stopped having sex everywhere we put our daughter, we would have to be much better at practicing self-control.”

[factoffictionwriter]

Tiva Fic Amnesty #6

Ziva ran a hand across his back as she moved behind him and exited the bathroom. He heard her mumbling to Tali in the other room some phrases in English, some in Hebrew. Then he heard a hollow thump followed by few seconds of silence. 

“Tali? What do you have there?” 

More silence. 

Then a breathless, “Oh.” 

His heart stopped as his brain worked through what was likely happening just 15 feet away from him. He pushed off the counter and moved out of the bathroom at a painstakingly slow pace.

He was right. He saw Ziva sitting on the bed, Tali in her lap, staring down at one of her hands. He didn’t have to look any longer to know what she was holding. The surprised look on her face said it all. 

“Abba!” Tali squealed, alerting her mother to his presence. 

Ziva’s head whipped around, her mouth hanging open slightly as she watched him move to sit beside her on the bed. 

“I knew I should have hidden that better,” he mumbled. 

Her eyes drifted back to the black box in her hand, open and letting the light dance off the diamond. 

“It is beautiful.” 

He grunted, “Well, I knew I had some high standards to meet. It was you who told me never to question an Israeli about diamonds.” 

She didn’t respond, and he started to wonder whether she was even listening to him. 

But suddenly she snapped the box shut and held it out for him.

“Here. I’ll let you hide this again.” 

“Huh?” 

“I’ll be sure to act surprised next time I see it.” 

“Next time?” 

“Yes, Tony. I know you. You must have something planned.” 

He looked down at the box as he moved it from one hand to another, “I do.” 

“And I don’t want to take that away from you.” 

He looked back up and found her watching him, her eyes clear and honest.

He chuckled slightly, looking away again under the weight of the situation, “It involves champagne. And some ridiculously expensive dinner reservations.” 

She smiled, “Sounds like fun.” 

He watched as she adjusted Tali on her lap, moving her around so she could brush extra curls out of the little girl’s face. He kept watching them for a minute, seeing the gentle way his girlfriends hands moved and jostled their daughter. 

He finally shook his head, shifting his body off of the bed and moving to kneel in front of her. 

“I don’t want to wait. I want to do this now.” 

She tucked a patch of curls behind her own ear, peering at him through those impossibly long lashes. A smile spread across her face that reinforced everything he had been thinking over the past few months. It made every second of their decade long love story worth it to see her look at him the way she was right now. 

She picked Tali up off her lap and set her gently on the bed beside her. She leaned forward, letting him grab her left hand and hold it gently between them. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically before meeting his eyes again.

“Okay,” she whispered, “I’m ready.”

He licked his lips as he dug through his brain, accessing the monologue he had been rehearsing and editing for two years, making it perfect for the day when the time was right. 

“Miss David,” he started, the corners of his mouth curling upward as he realized this could be one of the last times he called her that. With any luck, she wouldn’t be a Miss or a David for much longer, “If someone had told me 10 years ago that I would be here today, on one knee in front of a woman as strong and beautiful as you, I would have laughed in their face. If they had told me that woman would be you, my hot israeli partner with a steely eyes and a knack for knives, I would have blown a blood vessel.” 

She laughed, and the sound sent a wave of calm over his body.

“But, by some miracle, I am here, and so are you, and we have been given an entire decade of memories to prepare us for this moment. Sure, they haven’t always been good. We once got locked in a metal box of death together - twice actually if you consider the elevator. And then there was the time I shot your boyfriend.”

“In self defense,” She interjected, knowing that decision and the events afterwards still weighed on him, though he would never admit it. 

“Of course. But then came Somalia, and a summer from hell when I thought you were dead, followed by months of you thinking you would rather be.”

She winced at the memory. 

“But you got through that. How, I still don’t know, but you did.” 

“You played a big part in my healing afterwards,” She reached out and ran her fingers along his jaw, “I could not have done it without you.” 

He smiled and squeezed the hand still resting in his, “That’s sweet, but I’m not so sure it’s true. You’re strong, Ziva. Stronger than the rest of us.  And you’ve been through so much in your short 33 years, and you still manage to light up every room you walk in to. You have every reason to hate the world, and yet you still choose to be happy.”

“I have many reasons to thank the world as well, Neshama,” she tilted her head towards their babbling toddler who clearly had no idea what was going on, but still felt the need to be a part of it with her mumblings. 

“Yeah, I’m getting to her. But first, not only do you choose to be happy, but for some reason you choose to love me. And as if that alone isn’t enough, you choose to let me be a part of your life, of our daughter’s life.” 

“She is your daughter, Tony. I can hardly take credit for that.” 

“But you didn’t have to tell me. You were half a world away when you found out you were pregnant. You could have stayed in Israel and raised her yourself. But you didn’t, and I don’t thank you for that enough. This - Tali, this house, our life together - is everything to me. And you have given me all of it. You’re my best friend, Zi. My partner. The love of my life. My Beshert.”

Her smile grew at the Hebrew word: soulmate. One made specifically for him. Her mind flew back to what felt like a lifetime ago in a dimly lit break room, both of them retrieving snacks for what was looking like a long night of research, when she asked him if he believed in such a thing. His answer had been in jest, as all his answers back then seemed to be, and she had grown annoyed with his coping mechanism already, causing her to walk away before he had a chance to give her a better one. She didn’t know him well enough then to know she should have stayed a few seconds longer and let him get serious. He always got serious eventually. She absently wondered what would have happened if she had waited. What would he have said? Was he as aware of the gravity between them as she was, even back then? Would they have closer to 8 years of love under their belt instead of only 3? 

“We have grown up so much over the years, and I can’t help but think we were growing together the whole time. And now, well, all I want is to grow old with you,” he pulled the small ring out of the box and held it up, “This was my mother’s” 

She nodded, “I thought it might be. It seems she always had great taste.” 

He slid it onto her finger and twirled it around, “Looks like we need to get it resized.” 

She placed a finger under his chin, drawing his attention up to her face, where he saw a look of excitement and growing impatience, “You have not asked the question yet, Ahava.” 

He chuckled, looking away to hide the blush rushing to his face, “Right. I got excited..” 

He pulled her hand closer to him, the ring still on her finger, shining in the low light of their bedroom at night, “Ziva David?”

“Yes?” She beamed down at him, the same look of pure love and affection in her eyes that he saw the day Tali was born. 

“Will you marry me?” 

Tears threatened to breach her eyelids as she looked down at their joined hands. She opened her mouth to answer-

“Muh!” Tali chimed from her spot on the bed where she had managed to turn herself over into a crawling position. 

Ziva turned to her, “What do you think, Tali? Huh? Should I agree to marry your father?” 

“Abba!” she wiggled her way into her mother’s lap, forcing their hands apart, “Abba!”

“I think that was a yes,” he laughed as Tali reached for a handful of Ziva’s curls. 

“Well,” she started as she fought to free her hair from the toddler death grip, “Who am I to disagree with such a sweet face, huh?” 

Tony stood, finding a spot on the bed next to her and reaching for her, running a hand up her cheek and into her hair, gripping the strands much more gently than their daughter had, “So?” 

She smiled, “Yes, Tony. I will marry you.” 

He pulled her lips to his hungrily, jostling the toddler halfway off her mother’s lap.

Ziva caught her effortlessly, not even breaking their contact. Her lips moved against him eagerly, and he started to see the downside of proposing during a late night rendezvous with their kid in the room. However, the proximity of the bed had the potential to be a real convenience. 

Tali did not agree. In fact, she had moved herself to a standing position on Ziva’s legs and was now clawing at their joined faces. They pulled apart reluctantly, glancing down at their daughter as she leaned out toward Tony and tried to press her tiny lips against his. 

He leaned into her and gave her a quick, dramatic kiss before reaching over to take her onto his lap. She laughed, always happy to be closer to her father, and he sat her down with her back against his chest as she pulled at the hair on his arms. 

Ziva sighed, though the annoyance in her voice did not make it to her face, which was still beaming at the two of them, “Always the daddy’s girl, huh? Well, I’ll have you know, he was mine first. It is you,” she tapped Tali’s nose lightly with her pointer finger, causing the little girl to laugh joyfully, “who stole him away.” 

Tony smiled, securing his daughter on his lap with one arm and reaching out to his girlfriend- no his fiancee, with the other, pulling at her waist to get her to inch closer. She did so happily, ducking her head to rest on his shoulder, her warm breath causing goosebumps even through his cotton t-shirt.