Ashleigh Anpilova


Tony persuades Ziva to go to a fourth of July celebration.

A pre-het story.

Written: January 2012. Word count: 500.



JULY 3rd 2010


"Come on, Ziva, you have to come." Tony sat on the edge of Ziva's desk and smiled his winning smile at her.


"Why? Why do I 'have' to come, Tony? What is so special about it?"


Tony blinked. "What's so special? It's only the Fourth of July, Ziva. Independence Day. You tell her, McGee," he called. "Tell her it's compulsory for citizens of the United States to attend a Fourth of July parade."


Ziva looked at McGee. "Compulsory?" she asked. "It is compulsory?" she sounded astounded. "Surely that cannot be true? McGee, tell me if it is true."


Tony waved his hands at McGee and nodded frantically. McGee opened his mouth, looked at Ziva, looked back at Tony and gave a half-apologetic shrug. Tony rolled his eyes. "It's not exactly compulsory, Ziva," McGee said slowly as Tony sighed loudly. "But it is," he paused, "usual," he finished.


"But I have been in your country for five years now and you have never insisted that I -"


Tony interrupted her. "Ah, but this year's different, Ziva. Because this year," he stood up and leaned over her chair, "this year," he repeated, spinning her around in her chair before she could object or stop him. "This year, Special Agent Ziva David, you are an American citizen! So there!" he punched the air. "Hah!" he added, smiling widely as he looked from Ziva to McGee.


Ziva stopped her chair from spinning around and looked at McGee who shrugged. "It'd be easier to say yes, Ziva," he said. "You'll never hear the last of it if you don't. Now I have to go and see Abby." He hurried off.


Still smiling Tony looked at Ziva. "Well?" he asked.


She stared at him, studying him as he held his breath. "Very well, Tony," she said finally. "I shall accompany you to the parade."


JULY 4th 2010


"Isn't it great?" Tony asked, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose and looking around him, rubbing his hands with excitement. By his side Ziva was quiet; she'd barely spoken since he'd picked her up. "Ziva? Is something wrong?"


She looked at him and shook her head once. "It is just loud noises, bangs, explosions, they all mean danger, trouble, they are not something to be enjoyed, to be excited by. I am sorry, Tony," she added swiftly, putting her hand on his arm. "I do like the colors and I like -" But whatever she'd been about to say was drowned out by a massive explosion of fireworks blasting up into the sky and lighting it up.


As the noise continued and increased, Tony slipped his arm around Ziva's shoulders and held her in a loose embrace. "I love you, Ziva David," he said, quite safe in the knowledge that his words, like hers a moment or two before, would be swallowed by the cacophony of sound.


Maybe by the next Fourth of July, he would have said the words to her at a time when she would be able to hear them.



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