This was only supposed to be a one-shot, but I got enough requests for another chapter that I thought I'd turn it into a two-shot. Enjoy!

Tony DiNozzo was not the type to be caught dead at one of these things. The theater was old and ornate and had a stunning interior, but those facts combined to make this nothing that he would've ever willingly gone to – at least not before now. Before he had seen that poster. Before he had realized that this was his chance to see her again.

So here he was, finding a seat as close to the front as he could, just so that he might be able to get a good look at her. He had not yet decided whether or not he was going to try and get word to her that he was here, but making sure that she was doing okay had never been a matter that had been up for debate. If nothing else, that would become the entire reason he was here.

It had been nine years since he had seen Ziva, and he had learned to be okay with that. Knowing that she was back in D.C. – if only for a ballet performance – had stirred up some of those old feelings, though, and he had needed to do something about it. So he had come to the ballet, if only to lay eyes on her once again.

He wanted to talk to her, he realized, as the lights dimmed in the audience. He wanted to remind her that he was still here and still waiting for her, no matter how fruitless that might be. He wanted to tell her that he still loved her as much today as he had that day he had stupidly let her fly away from him.

Then she was on the stage, the only light in the cavernous room shining on her lithe figure, and all thoughts floated away as Tony was caught up in the spellbinding beauty of Ziva as she began her dance.

The Israeli woman lifted her exotic face towards the opposite wall and began to spin. The tulle of her skirt fluttered with the movement and she was beautiful, but more importantly she was happy and – there he saw it again, as undeniable as ever – she was free.

She was at perfect peace up there on that stage, Tony realized with a start. She was far, far away from the life she had lived while with NCIS, and that was how she needed it. He had come to that conclusion years ago, yes, to keep his own peace of mind, but at the end of the day, this – what he did or didn't do today – didn't have anything to do with his peace of mind; it had to be entirely about hers.

So he would do – he had no choice but to do – what he had already done once before. For her sake, he would let her fly out of here without his trying to stop her. He loved her enough to do that, he decided as the lights came on later in the evening.

So Tony stood up with the rest of the crowd as the show ended and slipped out of the theater, yet again, doing the hardest one-eighty of his life.

He curled his fingers around the handbill in his suit pocket as he walked towards his car.

Ziva deserved to be able to dance the rest of her life away if she so desired. So he had seen her once more, one last time, and now he would do what was best for the love of his life.

Starting his vehicle, he looked through the rearview mirror at the theater behind him, whispering, "Goodbye, ballerina."

I hope you guys liked this! Reviews make my day, if you feel so inclined. Thanks!:)