So I had this idea in mind for a while now and decided to give it a shot and surprinsingly enough, it didn't turn out as bad as I expected. At least I hope so. Please read the author's note at the end when you're finished, some of your questions might find an answer there. In the meantime, I hope you like it and that it can bring you some of the Tiva love recents events have so unexpectedly taken away from us...

She types the first words a few hours after he left. She can't sleep. She's been tossing and turning in her too big, too empty bed for over two hours now. Her mind has been restless from the second she lost sight of him on the tarmac. She thought she knew what she was doing and what she was doing it for, but she had not planned on him finding her out there and turning her whole world upside down all over again.

She gives up and gets up, moving slowly across the dark house to the outside terrace. The night is chilly but she barely notices it. She's been feeling cold ever since she has left the soothing warmth of his embrace. She grabs the nearest piece of clothing she finds on her way and puts it on herself. It's only when the fabric passes over her nose that she realizes it's not hers. The familiar masculine scent imprinted in her partner's – ex-partner, she has to remind herself – sweater is both strangely comforting and horribly painful. The memory of their last moments together plays in her head again for the millionth time that night and as she remembers their last kiss, she is overwhelmed by the lingering feeling of his lips on hers, and she cannot think straight anymore. Was it the right decision? Is she going to regret it? Was she right to let him go? Can she really live without him by her side? Has she really thought this through? And what if she has just thrown away her last chance to be truly happy? She closes her eyes and shakes her heads as she blames the lack of sleep and the emotional past few days for the unwelcome questions invading her mind once again.

She grabs her laptop still lying on the small wooden table in front of her, opens her mail box and a new message tab. She doesn't type much, just a few words to ask if he's landed safely and tells him not to look for his sweater, that she can send it back to him if he wishes (but she secretly hopes that she doesn't have to). She wonders whether she should wait and send it later, when she has something better to say and when it doesn't feel like there is so much more they should talk about than a 12-hour flight over the Atlantic and a forgotten sweater. (Or maybe when he's contacted her first and she knows he still wants her to be a part of his life after all.) But she clicks "Send" anyway and turns her laptop off. Because he's the only thing in her life she can't bring herself to let go of completely.

[Word Count: 84]

His answer is surprisingly short but sweet and has this little something that his uniquely him. He tells her to keep the sweater, that it probably looks better on her anyway. But when he reminds her that he, too, found something of hers in his jacket pocket on his way home, she suspects that the sweater might have always been meant to remain there with her after all. He tells her the others say hi but doesn't say anything about how they reacted to the news of her departure and this is something she is actually grateful for. She is not sure she could have handled knowing how much sadness and disappointment she caused them. He tells her he has to go (because Gibbs is staring in that particular way that makes him very uncomfortable and announces an inevitable slap to the back of the head if he doesn't get moving soon). Talk to you later. A strange feeling of relief invades her. Later. For the first time in months, she has something to look forward to.

[Word Count: 149]

They keep emailing each other regularly after that and before they know it, it's a daily habit. They mostly talk about nothing and everything, about the things they do, the books they read, the movies they watch, they talk about the weather and how fast time passes. Sometimes they write pages-long emails to each other, sometimes it's just a few lines. But it's a constant in their now separate lives and she wouldn't have it any other way. Soon enough, it's been a month since she's left. Once in a while, Tony tells her about the people coming by and asking about her. She laughs – albeit a little tearfully - when he gives her a very detailed description of Kevin's utterly distressed face when he got the news that she didn't work there anymore. I always knew he had a thing for you. I wouldn't be surprised if he was in a plane to Israel right now. Be on the look out. He jokes a lot, but she can somehow read between the lines, as always, and she knows everything is not as okay as he makes it look. One day, he briefly mentions falling asleep at the office and she knows there is more to it than he's willing to say. She also knows better than to ask questions. It's not like she has to anyway, she knows exactly why he's having trouble sleeping. After all, it's the same thing that is keeping her awake at night.

[Word Count: 10,265]

She starts having nightmares again. Old ones coming back to haunt her with the ghosts of her troubled past and new ones too, tormenting her with brand new faces and brand new fears. On those nights, she writes to him the same words of comfort he once whispered in her ear and made her promise to remember. She knows it's silly; it's a one-way conversation really. She doesn't expect him to answer back, she knows he won't. They never even address those night messages during their other, regular conversations - but again, they never discussed it either all those years ago at the office, when she would call him in the middle of the night, her voice shaking with strangled sobs, just to hear him say it was all going to be okay after she had a really bad dream. Yet, she stops at some point because she feels selfish for burdening him with it. But he knows her well, too well, and it's like he can read her mind even thousands of miles away. Tell me, Ziva. Just tell me. And her hands are still shaking and the tears still streaming down her face when she clicks "Send" at 3.30 AM that night.

[Word Count: 21,356]

He tells her about the new girl a few weeks later and she can't help the pang of jealousy that suddenly hits her. She knew it would happen so she is not surprised. Agent Bishop seems nice, professional and trust-worthy and really, that's all she needs to know. It's just hard to imagine that there is now someone else sitting at her desk, someone else working with her friends, someone else having their backs, someone else seeing and chatting and laughing with them every day. But it's particularly hard to imagine Tony making this new woman laugh with his silly jokes and flashing her his special DiNozzo smile in order to get out of whatever trouble he may find himself in. She doesn't tell him that of course, she wants to sound encouraging and happy for them and she knows deep down that she lost the right to be jealous the moment she decided to leave this all behind. You're still my favorite Probie of them all, you know. And she realizes just then that that special smile she was so afraid of having to share had always been for her, and for her only.

[Word Count: 50,629]

It's Christmas Eve and she finds herself feeling more alone than ever in the past 3 months. While she never celebrated Christmas as a religious tradition, the family holiday has grown on her over the past few years. She misses the loving and warm atmosphere of the holiday season, she misses the giant Christmas tree in the bullpen and she even misses the tacky decorations at the entrance of the building and the weird Christmas music in Abby's lab. She wonders if they've had their traditional private screening of "It's a Wonderful Life" in MTAC and the thought alone makes her heart hurt a little. She's about to send her Christmas greetings when a delivery man rings at her door and hands her a package. There is no card, just a wrapped rectangular object inside. She carefully removes the glossy paper and can't keep the tears away as the familiar DVD cover is revealed in her hands. Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he? Merry Christmas Tony. And thank you. And when she curls up on her couch with a cup of his "DiNozzo special" eggnog in her hands and the first notes of the black and white opening credits start to play, she doesn't feel so alone anymore.

[Word Count: 73,697]

She finds a job in a tiny local book shop early in the Spring. It's not much but she needs to get back on the job market, and frankly she needs the distraction too. Tony playfully makes fun of her because of course she would work in a book shop but wishes her well and she can tell he's relieved she's done spending her days alone in that big empty house of hers. If she is being honest, so is she. Every day she tells him about the people she meets, how useful she feels to them and how much she enjoys it. He, on the other hand, tells her about the crazy cases they've had, about how quickly their new recruit has adapted to their little group, about the head slaps and the pranks. She's relieved things have not changed too much. Yet, more often than not, once the last message is sent and her laptop is turned off, she wonders if he sometimes feels sad when he looks up from his desk and doesn't find her sitting there in front of him. She wonders if he sometimes calls her name by mistake. And she wonders if he sometimes misses her as much as she does him when the night comes and the bed feels too cold and too big, and desperately too empty.

[Word Count: 165,321]

He hesitantly and a little sheepishly tells her he's got a date. McGee set him up with one of Delilah's friends and he's decided to give it a shot, if only to shut the younger agent up. The news sting. She knows she's been gone for a long time now and so far she hasn't mentioned coming back even once so the reasonable part of herself assumes it is a good thing that he is trying to move on at last. She would truly despise herself for being the one thing preventing him to ever try to be happy again. But there is this other part of her that feels like she has just lost him for good and knows she's got nobody to blame for that but herself and she suddenly feels sick. She wants to scream and run away for as long as her legs would carry her, until she feels numb with physical pain and exhaustion and she doesn't have to think about him and her and them and all the things they could have had together ever again. She's torn between her desire to see him happy and her inability to accept that he could be happy with someone else. She knows she's being selfish, she's the one who left after all. He would have given her everything if she had gone with him that day. But she decided to let him go and now she has to face the consequences of that choice. She just never expected it to hurt so much.

She tells him not to worry, that she understands and that she doesn't want him to spend his life waiting for her. She wishes she could tell him that she will be back soon and give him something real to hold on to – and prevent him to go to more serious dates in the future – but she knows she can't do that, not without either lying to him or ending up breaking her promise and she's so tired of doing both. I hope you will find what you are looking for. He doesn't reply and she decides that maybe it is time they both live their own lives now and she stops writing. Giving him some space. Giving herself some time.

[Word Count: 230,549]

It's been 11 days since their last conversation when her mailbox comes to life again, late at night. Are we good? She sighs, with relief mostly. Yes, we are. / Goodnight Ziva. / Goodnight Tony. She doesn't ask how the date went. Strangely enough, she realizes that she doesn't need to know. He's still there, and for now, that's all that matters.

[Word Count: 230,567]

He sends her a picture of "Mini Palmer" (as he calls him) on the first week of May. It's a chubby 7 month-old baby with a lightly tanned skin, soft brown curls and dark eyes. He's from Chile, he tells her, and Jimmy and Breena should be able to take him back home with them in a few more months. Matias. It is actually a Hebrew name, did you know? It means Gift of God. He is the cutest thing she's ever seen and her heart does something strange in her chest as she looks at the picture some more. It's like a pang of envy, or one of regret, she doesn't quite know and she suddenly gets lost in thoughts of what her own son or daughter would look like. She pictures her imaginary children playing in the tiny waves of the Mediterranean sea down her family beach house in Haifa, she pictures herself singing them to sleep, reading them bedtime fairy tales, telling them it is okay to dream of strong-willed princesses and brave-hearted knights. And then, she imagines being in his arms on the porch swing, as they watch their children play in the backyard of their house just outside DC and suddenly she can see them clearer than ever before and they are a perfect mix of her and him: dark curls yet lighter than hers, green eyes yet darker than his, and that same unmistakable cheeky grin he thinks makes him irresistible. Her heart starts doing strange things in her chest again but there's no envy or regret anymore, there's only love and hope like never before. Someday, she silently vows to herself. Someday.

[Word Count: 340,089]

Shmeil dies at the beginning of the summer. She feels like it's yet another part of her life that is crumbling down. She wasn't expecting it, Shmeil always seemed immortal to her, invincible, permanent. The old man's passing makes her reflect on what exactly she is doing with her life. She thinks about the time she has already wasted and lost trying to be someone she did not really want to be, trying to fix a lifetime of mistakes and wrong decisions, convincing herself that she had time, that she would get to the happy place she's always been yearning for eventually. And yet, here she is, back in the house where she was born all those years ago, alone, thousands of miles away from the only people in the world who still care about her, in spite of everything she is and everything she did. She is mad at herself for causing them so much pain, for making them miss her when she has done nothing but push them away and it's like the devouring guilt that she has been trying to ignore for almost a year is suddenly about to burst out. She knows she needs to do this to be able to live a future life free from the ghosts of her past and feel worthy of the better future she's working towards. But it's hard, so hard. She thought she was strong enough, that her motivation to start over would be enough to get her through the heartache of leaving them behind and missing them so much. But she was wrong, so wrong… She wonders if she should go home, stop this before it is too late and she destroys more than she already has. But she knows it would not be fair, to herself, to her family back in DC, to Tony.

Tony.

She does not think she could ever forgive herself for what she did to him when she made him leave her there. If letting him go was hard, imagining the pain he must have felt at being pushed away by her once again, especially after he all but poured his heart out to her, is just unbearable. So, can she really go home to him before she even really tried to do what she stayed there for and make all that suffering be for nothing? As tempting as the thought is right now, she knows she can't. She made a decision and she ought, at least for him, to face the consequences of it, no matter how cruel they may be.

She writes to him then, with tears streaming down her face and gross sobs escaping her throat every time she takes another breath, and decides to do what she ultimately thinks is best for the two of them. She tells him about her doubts, her regrets and her fears that she will lose him. She tells him for the first time how much she truly misses him. She knows she shouldn't but she can't help herself. The least she can do at this point is be boldly honest to him. She owes it to him. So she tells Tony she is going to bury Shmeil and then go travel for a while, she doesn't know how long she will be gone. She will still write of course, and hopes he will too. But she needs a change of scenery, she needs to explore the word and explore herself. She tells him – and it's breaking her heart to do so – that she cannot promise him anything right now and that he must do what he feels is best for him. It's time you put yourself first for once, Tony. I am yours no matter what. Forever.

[Word Count: 400,000]

She wipes a lone tear away with the back of her hand, and, as she types the final words of her already too long and too painful email, prays with everything she has that when the time comes, they will find each other again. For good.

I love you.

[Word Count: 400,003]

The following 8 months fly by. She travels a lot, writes a lot too. She tells him about all the places she visits and all the delicious food she knows he would have loved.

She meets other people, too, and some stick around, for a night or for a while. But he is always in her mind, night and day, wherever she goes, whatever she does. He is there in everything she does and sees for there is always something in her world to remind her of him. It is a comfort on some days, a burden on some others. It's soothing and reassuring and suffocating at the same time. It's something she cannot escape even if she wanted to. But if she is being honest with herself, the mere thought of not feeling his presence one way or another terrifies her. Couldn't live without you, he once told her, and she thinks she is getting to understand exactly what he meant then.

His replies are often short, sometimes because he reads what he likes to call her "Big Adventure Tales" late at night after a long day at work and is too tired to type a long, constructive answer, sometimes because he doesn't have much to say anyway and is just content to read her messages and to picture in his mind the places she writes to him, hoping that maybe one day they will go back together.

They have wordlessly agreed a long time ago not to discuss any possible dates they both could have, mostly because they would have to pretend that they are okay with it and if there was ever a time where pretending was salutary for them, it sure is no longer the case. So they just don't talk about it. But this is something that keeps coming back to her whenever she struggles to fall asleep at night, or when she finds herself surrounded by loving couples sharing a tender moment, oblivious to the world around them. She wonders if he's alone at the moment, if he was alone the night before, she wonders if she sometimes crawls her way back into his mind the way he does hers. She wonders if he, too, sometimes dreams about her and about them, in such a vivid way that he almost expects to find her sleeping soundly next to him when he wakes up in the morning.

She goes to the Opera for Thanksgiving this year. She hasn't been there in a while. She spent last year's going through old family photo albums listening to the Puccini CD Tony had made her the year before and it felt right enough. But there is nothing stopping her now so she indulges herself, puts on a long black strapless dress with black high heels and straightens her hair slightly, only leaving it curl and wave softly at the ends. When she looks at her reflection in the mirror, she suddenly thinks she would love to have him there with her, probably unabashedly checking her out, certainly speechless at the sight in front of him. She realizes that even though going to the Opera for her sister's birthday had always been a very private and personal occasion for her, she wishes she could share it with him once more. And later that night, as she hums along the familiar songs resonating in the theater, she closes her tear-filled eyes and it is not only Tali who is there with her.

She celebrates the New Year in Paris and sends him a picture of the sparkling Eiffel Tower at midnight. She stands there looking at the millions of little lights lightening up the Parisian winter night for much longer than she cares to think about and as a cold breeze makes her shiver and she wraps her coat and heavy scarf tighter around her body and neck, she makes a silent wish to herself to find a way to be with him at the same time next year.

She comes back to the farm house in Be'er Sheva on the first day of February and she feels better she thinks. She knows she's not there yet, but she's definitely getting closer.

As she unpacks from her several months of wandering around the world and moves to put her passport away in one of the wardrobe drawers, it slowly dawns on her that it doesn't feel quite like home anymore. There's something inside of her that makes her put the passport back in her travel bag and she can't put her finger on what it is exactly, but she knows, at that exact moment, that she will use it only one more time

She knows she's not there yet, but as she zips her bag closed with her passport safely placed in the inside pocket, she knows she's never been closer.

[Word Count: 680,258]

She spends the next two months and a half doing some redecorating in her parents' old farm house in Be'er Sheva. She has all but abandoned the place for the best part of a whole year and it could really use some thorough cleaning and a fresh coat of paint. She does it all by herself and when she's done, the old place that saw her first moments into the world all those years ago feels so new, so clear, so full of light and life that she cannot help but see it as the clean slate she was so desperately yearning for and it's almost as if she, too, is being born again.

Suddenly, she finds herself releasing a breath she didn't know she had been holding, and before she knows it she's kneeling on the hardwood floor of the living room, and the dam breaks. These are tears of relief running down her face and she feels silly for crying so much when she should be happier than ever before but she can't bring herself to care. She's crying away all the pain and all the anger, all the guilt and all the emptiness, she's crying away all of her fears and all of her doubts and when she has no more tears to shed, she gets up and her mind is set.

What if I told you I will be back before the new year? And for the first time since she left, she dares to do what she never let herself do before: she gives him something real to hold on to, she gives him hope and she knows this is the one promise she will never break.

[Word Count: 795,542]

Together they start planning her return. He helps her find a new place – she goes through the "For Rent" ads on the specialized websites and he goes to visit the ones she's selected. She trusts his judgment so she's not surprised when he tells her he's found the perfect place for her and it turns out to be exactly what she wants. It's also quite conveniently located not even two blocks away from his place. That's as far away from me as I will ever let you go again. She laughs at his - contagious – excitement and starts picturing her new life.

But it's mostly him she sees: pizza nights with too much beer being drunk and too many secrets being spilled, late phone calls when he can't find sleep after a long and complicated case and half-unexpected visits on Sunday mornings with coffee, muffins and yet another DVD. I can't imagine how behind you must be on your cinema classics watching. But she can sense his reservations and his fears and she worries about how things will be between them when she comes back. Surely there will be some awkward moments and some tension. She can't imagine things to be so easy, she knows her leaving has left some deep marks and certainly put a strain on their relationship. She is not expecting her return to go all smoothly, she knows it will take time for her to find her place back in his life, but she's willing to do everything she can to make it work, no matter how long it will take for him to trust her again and believe her when she says that she is there to stay.

[Word Count: 900,501]

She goes to visit her aunt Nettie at last and spends Hanukkah with her. The old woman has always treated Ziva as her own daughter and now is no different. She greets her with a teary smile and a warm embrace, whispering in Ziva's ear the same words of love and affection she would whisper in her ear when she was just a little girl and Ziva thinks briefly that she would be perfectly happy to just stay there, in her aunt's strong arms holding her tight, for the rest of her life. With her, Ziva is almost back to being the carefree child she once was and the feeling is so welcome that she doesn't even mind when Nettie decides that she is too skinny so she cooks all day and makes sure her niece's stomach is never empty from the minute she gets up in the morning to the blessed moment when she can finally go to bed and get a few hours of respite. You would love it here I am sure. Ziva inevitably puts on a little weight and she has to admit – much to her aunt's blatant satisfaction – that she looks better like that, she looks healthier, happier even. She knows she will have to double her training efforts after her stay with her aunt to be back in shape, but for now, she feels so good and so alive that she doesn't bother thinking about it too hard. She takes the time to reconnect with the woman who has always been her most loyal support throughout her entire life, and together they share memories of the past, cooking recipes and long walks in the olive grove surrounding Nettie's house. It's a time for peace, remembrance and confidence. Ziva eventually tells her aunt that she's going back to Washington, that there are people she needs to go back to, people who have been waiting for her for much too long already and the knowing smile of approval the old woman gives her in response is all Ziva needs to know that she has definitely made the right choice. She says she would like to meet you someday. I think you would like her. She leaves the comfort of Nettie's cozy house a few days before Christmas and there are tears in both women's eyes as they part. Nettie hugs her one last time, and taking her niece's face between her strong wrinkled hands to stare straight into her dark eyes, tells her she could not be prouder of who she has become and that it is time she lets the past behind and just live.

It's December 23rd when Ziva finally places the last of her few belongings in her travel bag, Tony's now worn-out sweater neatly folded on the top, and turns the lights off. There is nothing but relief, hope and excitement in her heart as she casts one last glance around the dark living-room, walks out of the house and locks the front door.

Tomorrow. 10.35PM. Terminal 2. I am coming home.

[Word Count: 1,000,000]

Author's Note: Now I know it may seem a little unrealistic, especially if you try to count how many words two people can write to each other in the span of time this story unfolds into (believe me I've almost actually died trying). But in order to be perfectly realistic, this story would have spanned over almost 4 years (since that's about as long as it would take for two people to reasonably exchange a million words in emails...) and I just couldn't bring myself to have Tony and Ziva apart for so long. So, I made it all happen in a little over 2 years, and it's not too bad a compromise I think.

And besides, if the actual, official writers could write their relationship in such a non-sensical way as they have this season (first 2 eps included) and get away with it, I will sure take that right too.

Thank you for reading! Here's a heart-shaped cookie for you 3