Believing in happy endings

[Part II]

That night as he was sitting on his couch, his mind could not stop rushing in every direction. It was as if those texts had reignited a fire in him. She had always been in a corner of his mind, somewhere, in everything he was doing. Sometimes he could have sworn that he had heard her voice, smelled her perfume, or saw her silhouette. But everytime it was leaving him with an unfillable void in his heart.

He had tried to get her out, to forget about her, to stop texting her but everything around him was always bringing him back to her, to what his life could be.

He was often trying to imagine what she was doing, if she was also thinking about him. If she was missing him sometimes as he missed her every day.

Of course he had dated other women but the amount of alcohol he needed to find the courage for that was definitely going to kill him before his 60’s.

They were never funny enough, never attractive enough, never intimidating enough.

They were never her.

And everytime he could not stop himself from feeling guilty.

Guilty of betraying them, betraying her, betraying himself.

Tonight he had a date with a gorgeous woman he had met at a coffee shop. She was perfect. Beautiful, clever and she loved cinema. What else could he ask for? But yet he was still slouching on his couch, his eyes in a void. His phone rang. He jumped on it but the name he saw on screen left him with a bitter taste of deception. He answered:

“Hey… Yeah sure I’m still up for it.. I was uh.. I was about to head out actually... okay.. meet you there…”

As he hung up, he let a long sigh out. ‘What are you doing DiNozzo ?’ was the question he had been asking himself for the last few months. He rubbed his face and checked his phone. No messages. He stood up and as he walked to the mirror to check his reflection he thought: ‘come on DiNozzo, it’s been a year.. She has turned the page.. It’s time for you to do the same’

The night went on. He took her to a fancy bar in downtown D.C. He tried as much as he could to not scare her with the amount of alcohol he needed to relax. They talked, they ate, they laughed.

She was clearly under his spell and had to admit that he was attracted to her. But something was not right.

He drove her home and the crucial moment happened.

She proposed to him to come up for one last drink and he said yes.

The most hypocritical and insincere ‘yes’ he had ever said in his life.

They took that last drink and she leaned forward to kiss him. His entire body tensed when her lips touched his. He tried as much as he could to live the moment. He tried to focus on her. She led him to her room. His hands found their way on her hips. He sat on the bed and she sat on his lap. She started to unbutton his shirt and he swallowed hard. He was missing air.

As she started to kiss his chest, he mumbled:

“It’s not gonna work”

She straightened up:

“Excuse me?”

He pushed her out of his lap and started to button his shirt:

“I’m sorry but I think I should go”

He stood up, still struggling to button his shirt as fast as he could. He needed to get out now, to run away as far as he could.

She cleared her throat:

“Did I do something wrong ?”

“No.. no, of course not.. it’s not you… you are perfect.. it’s me.. I’m sorry.. I just can’t do this”

And with that he grabbed his jacket and ran out.

Another day, another case, another suspect.

He had to admit that his heart was not on the job anymore. He did not care if they caught the bad guy. All he wanted was to be done with work to get home and get his mind busy with some stupid movies he had already seen a thousand times.

That day was no different, except for one thing.

Today, he was exhausted.

Of course he bragged all morning about his night spent with a beautiful latina that kept him awake all night but the truth was very different.

A woman kept him up all night, yes, but that woman was Ziva.

They have been texting all night (and all day for her), none of them willing to be the one who ended the conversation. Over the course of the last few weeks, they have been talking more, sharing pictures, discussing futile subjects. Anything other than their feelings. They tried as much as they could to reconnect. He had tried to call her a couple of times, but she was never answering. All he wanted to do was to hear her voice but he knew that hearing his would be too hard for her.

McGee had found him suspiciously quiet on the car ride. Tony’s mind had been absorbed by his phone all morning with this stupid smile on his face.

Things were not different on their car ride to the suspect’s house. He had his eyes locked on his phone, letting chuckles out from time to time.

The car finally reached the house and came to a stop:

📩 From Tony D.

“Gotta go catch a bad guy. TTYS”

✉️From Ziva D.

“Be careful out there”

📩 From Tony D.

“I will 😘”

✉️From Ziva D.

“Don’t do anything stupid”

📩 From Tony D.

“Can’t promise that 😇”

The case led them to a suspect they needed to interrogate.

They knocked on the door. No answer.

Tony walked around the house, his Sig in hand, prepared for every eventualities. He heard some noise and a man rushed out of the house. A rush of adrenaline ran down his spine and he started to chase him, grunting:

“I hate when they run!”

After a few yards, Tony saw the suspect disappear around a corner. He rushed around it and froze as he realized that the man he was running after was standing there, gun raised, aiming at him. Tony's gaze crossed his and he knew. He knew it was the moment, he knew this was the mistake too many.

Time stopped. Everything around him froze.

A flash of light blinded him for a second and the deafening noise that accompanied it resonated in his brain.

As the strong punch of the bullet hit him in the chest, Tony collapsed on the floor but surprisingly he felt no pain… At first.

He grunted.

Some distant voices reached his ears and he recognized his name being shouted.

The only thing he could feel right now was coldness and dizziness.

Everyone was bustling around him.

Gibbs knelt next to him and grabbed his hand. The sudden pressure on his chest awoke the pain.

He groaned.

Breathing was becoming so difficult now. And that cold was now making his body shake like a leaf.

He tried to articulate:

“Boss… I think I messed up..big time”

“Shhh… You’re not leaving us Tony.. Ambulance is on the way”

A moment after everything became slower. The voices, more distant and the pain less present. But one thing was not changing. The only thing that was not growing distant was her.

Ziva.

She was still in his mind.

Crystal clear.

And this reassured him.

An hour later.

His phone vibrated inside the pocket of his jacket.

McGee took the jacket out of the evidence plastic bag and took Tony’s phone out.

2 messages appeared onscreen.

First: low battery.

Second: 2 unread messages from Ziva D.

He swallowed hard. He hasn’t thought about calling her.

He unlocked the screen and read the texts:

✉️From Ziva D.

“Are you ok ?”

“Tony ????”

She had texted him a few hours ago and she was probably asleep by now. What was he supposed to do ? Does Tony want her to know ? Should he wait for her to wake up ?

i’m restless for whatever comes next

seven // sleeping at last

Because it hurts so bad and there’s nothing in the world that can make him feel better because he loved her so much. That he let her go but he probably shouldn’t have, because he should have been there on her six and he blames himself for not being there. With her. 

It doesn’t matter what he does or chooses now, he can’t do anything about it. It’s almost like he has nothing left because was the job really worth it, over her? Over feeling this broken? Over losing the love of his life? 

Maybe he should have stayed with her. 

It destroys him that he can’t love her again, feel her skin again, run his hands through those damn beautiful curls of hers. Have the gift of her. Because she was such a treasure to him. 

And he’s just a sobbing mess right in front of everyone because he finally doesn’t care that they know he loved her. 

So, I don’t know about you but this scene hits me right in the feels a lot. 

I’ve read all kinds of posts both from writers and readers lamenting about comments on fic. Authors are upset when they don’t get any, readers don’t know what kinds of comments to leave, etc. And it finally clicked in my brain why I think a lot of people don’t bother writing comments. 

And this is what it boils down to:

Writers do not want praise.  We just want to talk about our story. 

I can’t speak for everyone obviously - but I think the majority of writers don’t care so much for the “omg you’re a brilliant writer!!” comments as much as we just want to hear your thoughts on the story. Even if it’s just your thoughts as you’re reading of “oooh x happened! I can’t believe y said this! What’s going to happen now that z has happened?!” We literally just want to talk about what we’ve written like you would with a friend about a tv show. We’re not out here demanding praise like some entitled narcissist. 

While praising our writing skills or writing style is appreciated, it doesn’t need to be said on every fic and every chapter that you read. If you regularly comment on someone’s work that’s telling enough that you like our technique. Readers shouldn’t feel pressured to have to praise a writer’s abilities every time they want to comment. 

In the grand scheme of things, talking about the fic/chapter is actually more helpful to us writers instead of spewing praise. It’s the same with artwork. As nice as it is that people tell me “wow your art is so pretty!” it’s a LOT more useful to me to get comments like “I love their expressions!” or “the lighting on this is gorgeous!” because then I know WHAT people are liking about it. If no one ever comments on my backgrounds, I now know what to improve. If most people comment on liking the expressions, I now know the strong points of my art and can use it to my advantage to make even better art in the future. 

The same goes for fic. If multiple people tell me they liked a certain part of the story I now know that things similar to that are a hit. It’s feedback I can use to improve the story and give my readers more of what they want. Without that I have no idea what they like about the fic.

Talking with a writer about their story also gives them inspiration!! Nothing gets us more in the mood to work on a fic than to have people wanting to talk about it. A lot of times just talking about one of my fics with someone will give me that push to continue working on it. Getting a comment that just says “great chapter” or “you’re a great writer” doesn’t do much to motivate us to continue that particular fic. But if you talk about the story and the characters it gives us motivation to continue working on it, may even give us ideas for future chapters. I would hope that those of you with “comment anxiety” find this approach so much easier than trying to praise the writer every time you read.

So that fic the author hasn’t updated in forever that you’re dying to read? Talk to them about the fic and the elements of the story! It will make the writer want to talk to you about it and will get their mind thinking about it, hopefully inspiring them to continue where they left off. Fics that are left in silence are more likely to be abandoned or even deleted because nothing feels worse than putting your heart into a story to have no one say anything about it. 

TLDR; Writers do not want praise, we just want to talk with our readers about the story itself, and these are the kinds of comments that inspire us to keep writing more. 

AMENDMENT >>> Some people are misinterpreting my words so I just wanted to make something clear. I am not trying to police how people comment - I am merely reassuring readers that not every writer is an entitled asshole who expects you to comment about how talented they are and what a gift they are to the fandom. I’ve seen this attitude in writers occasionally and I want people to know that most of us writers are not like that. We love any and all comments but you do not ever need to feel pressured to say how amazing we are and lick our boots. There is nothing wrong with praising the writer, in fact a lot of us love it, but it is not something that should be required if you feel inclined to comment.

i don’t care whether your comment is a single emoji, or a 400-word analysis of a single line from the fic. i don’t care if you just want to say ‘hi’, ask when the next chapter is coming, or tell me that the fic made you cry/laugh/whatever. 

every comment is important to me. every. single. one.

and yes - i mean that even if your comment is to correct me on something or to tell me that there’s something you don’t like about the work. provided you’re not being actually hateful or toxic, i welcome your feedback because that’s how i grow as a writer.

‘Hardest 180 in my life’

These are the last words he said to her. Before turning his back on her. Before walking away. Before leaving.

On the plane, he could not stop remembering those last few words. He could not stop hating himself for letting this be his farewell. As he stepped out of the airport terminal his first reflex was to grab his phone and text her:

📩 From Tony D.

“Made it to D.C safely. Missing you already. I can’t stop thinking that something is not right”

His text remained unanswered. He knew she needed time and she was still processing her loss. He needed time too to process this. To accept it.

He kept texting her every day. It has become his ritual on the elevator ride that was leading him to the bullpen, when he headed back home, before going to bed. His texts were rarely given an answer. At first he blamed the time difference before he slowly started to realize that she was trying to cut ties.

For her sake. For his sake.

Life was going on. Days passed. Weeks passed that soon became months. But nothing was changing. He kept texting her. More for himself to be honest. He needed to know that maybe she was reading them and maybe they were making her smile.

_______________________________________________

A few months passed

_______________________________________________

📩 From Tony D.

“Happy Birthday Sweet Cheeks 🎉. Hope you had a great day. Have you received my flowers ?”

He put his phone back in his pocket and took a deep breath to chase all his melancolic thoughts. He had made a point of acting like everything was fine in front of his coworkers. Never showing how he missed her. Never showing how hurt he was to see her empty desk. Never showing how hurt he was that her desk was now occupied by someone else than her.

As the elevator came to a stop, the ringtone of his phone raised. Tony stepped out of the elevator while taking his phone out. He greeted his coworkers and threw his bag on the floor as he checked his phone with detachment.

He froze as he saw her name onscreen:

✉️From Ziva D.

“I did. Thank you. They are beautiful. You should not have. XOXO”

He could not help the smile that started to grow on the corner of his mouth. He could not stop reading her words. It was the first time he got an answer from her in the last couple of months. He could not stop thinking that maybe it was the beginning of something. He had to find something to say.

📩 From Tony D.

“It’s your birthday of course I had to. I wish I could have been there to offer them myself”

Around him, the voices of his coworkers started to raise:

“Tony!”

“Tony! Are you okay ?”

His eyes locked on his phone, he jumped:

“What ?”

McGee was looking at him with half upset, half concerned eyes:

“Are you okay ?”

Tony scoffed, still incapable of making his smile disappear:

“Yeah of course I’m fine. Why ?”

“Then if you are ‘fine’, can you send me the file I’ve been asking you about for the last 10 minutes ?”

Tony frowned and rubbed the back of his head as he realized that his mind might have been focused on her text for longer than he thought.

“Yeah sure.. sorry.. just some.. nevermind…”

His phone beeped again and he surely had a hard time not jumping on it. He looked at the screen and read:

✉️From Ziva D.

“Me too 😊”

An even larger grin spread on his face. He kept his eyes on her words for another couple of second before turning to McGee:

“What’s that file you wanted me to send you, again ?”

AMEN TO THAT !!!!!

Ajskjdsl I didn’t expect to get this one okay I’ll rant about how little we know about the Secret Summer of Sex (yes it gets capitals because it’s the title of the summer these sex gremlins couldn’t resist each other any more) ;D

Let’s start with the end of season 3. As we all know, these fools were all over each other, as per usual, and their sexual tension was reaching some breaking points and I honestly believe that they wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. I may also believe that they were sleeping together throughout s3 but that’s another story

I bring your attention to this gif right here (*cough* Jess *cough*) because WOW LOOK AT THIS THEY ARE ALL OVER EACH OTHER IN PUBLIC AND THEY ARE CONSIDERING JUMPING EACH OTHER RIGHT THERE???? please

So we can see that these two have no boundaries any more and NOW they are free from Gibbs’s rule #12 so hehehe ;)

We now have A WHOLE SUMMER of them being free to go to each other’s houses (I also believe that there’s not way Ziva didn’t go to Tony’s apartment until s10 wtf) and just be friends with benefits. But more than that, they were definitely friends throughout s3 and this freedom then granted them the ability to explore it even more YET WE DIDN’T SEE IT. We know that they were having movie nights regularly and they were definitely doing more than that too. 

In my head they were not only going to each other’s apartments but also actually DOING things together and going places and exploring and doing dumbass domestic stuff, like Ziva full on taught Tony how to cook properly and he taught her all sorts of film knowledge. They also played uno religiously, idk why I’m so stuck on this idea, but it happened.

AS WELL AS ALL THE SEX.

LOOK AT HOW HAPPY AND CONTENT AND DOMESTIC THEY ARE IN THESE PHOTOS. WHAT WERE THEY DOING? HOW FAR INTO THE SUMMER WAS THIS? WAS ONE OF THESE FROM THE PREVIOUS NIGHT? THERE’S AT LEAST TWO DIFFERENT OUTFITS SO WE ARE LOOKING AT AT LEAST TWO DIFFERENT NIGHTS or one night and one morning I SERIOUSLY HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS.

(super slow gif because pictuuuurrrrrrreeeeessssssss)

Let’s have a look at Ziva’s reaction to the photos of Tony at her apartment AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK, THE IMPLICATIONS OF HOW MANY TIMES A WEEK IT WAS ACTUALLY IS DRIVING ME WILD. It could have been every night some weeks for all we know gaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Was this really the reaction of someone who hadn’t been secretly sleeping with her partner for a whole summer? And I’ll never get over that she doesn’t even answer the question asjdisjfiods GIVE ME ANSWERS @ WRITERS.

And here we have Tony saying that he loves Ziva in a roundabout way but I’m still taking it 

AND LOOK AT THE CONCERN IN TONY’S EYES FOR HER BECAUSE THEY HAVE BEEN SLEEPING TOGETHER THE WHOLE SUMMER AND HE DIDN’T KNOW WHERE SHE WAS OR IF SHE WAS OKAY I’M DROWNINNNGGG

AND THEY ARE GIVING EACH OTHER THESE LOOKS. RIGHT IN FRONT OF GIBBS. BECAUSE THERE’S STILL NOT RULES. AND THEY ARE STILL FREE TO FEEL THEIR SSoS FEELS. TELL ME THAT THESE ARE THE LOOKS OF PEOPLE WHO WERE NOT SLEEPING TOGETHER.

TIVATOBER 2020 // DAY 7

↳ prompt: Whiskey - rated M (1,954 words)

summary: Tony and Ziva go undercover as a married couple, and… Things go as expected.

A/N: Gratuitous use of trope “let’s kiss to distract them” and I’m not sorry. 

read it on AO3 🥃

“So how did you two meet?”

Tony lifted his gaze to settle on the middle-aged woman sitting at the other side of the table, her smart gray eyes seizing him up as she took a sip of her wine. Among everyone at that dinner, she was the one he was more worried about, her sharp stare making him believe she was seeing more than she let on.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” He gave her his trademark smile and saw her eyes sparkle, a voice in the back of his mind telling him to tread carefully. 

She’s covered with love and attention from her Ima and her Abba. She will never have to get through fear again. He is her everything and she is the most precious thing in his world. ______________________________