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 60âs.
They were never funny enough, never attractive enough, never intimidating enough.
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:
âHey⊠Yeah sure Iâm still up for it.. I was uh.. I was about to head out actually... okay.. meet you thereâŠâ
As he hung up, he let a long sigh out. âWhat are you doing DiNozzo ?â 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: âcome on DiNozzo, itâs been a year.. She has turned the page.. Itâs time for you to do the sameâ
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 âyesâ 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:
âItâs not gonna workâ
He pushed her out of his lap and started to button his shirt:
âIâm sorry but I think I should goâ
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.
âDid I do something wrong ?â
âNo.. no, of course not.. itâs not you⊠you are perfect.. itâs me.. Iâm sorry.. I just canât do thisâ
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.
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. Tonyâs 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 suspectâs 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:
âGotta go catch a bad guy. TTYSâ
âBe careful out thereâ
âDonât do anything stupidâ
âCanât promise that đâ
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:
âI hate when they run!â
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.
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.
Breathing was becoming so difficult now. And that cold was now making his body shake like a leaf.
âBoss⊠I think I messed up..big timeâ
âShhh⊠Youâre not leaving us Tony.. Ambulance is on the wayâ
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.
She was still in his mind.
His phone vibrated inside the pocket of his jacket.
McGee took the jacket out of the evidence plastic bag and took Tonyâs phone out.
2 messages appeared onscreen.
Second: 2 unread messages from Ziva D.
He swallowed hard. He hasnât thought about calling her.
He unlocked the screen and read the texts:
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 ?
All those questions were now torturing his mind.