Epilogue: Soulmates

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies"

Aristotle

Life goes on.

It was a December morning like any other; the twenty-fourth, a Thursday. Trying to get through the week, trying to pull through the muck. Mornings, he ran at least six miles, sometimes more. It was getting better. The nightmares were finally starting to recede, ebb away from the fractured bits of his mind. No more waking up at three and needing a cold shower and noise, or some soothing drug or drink to make everything blissfully black. Now, when he woke up Ziva was there beside him to whisper soothing words, having been woken by his screaming. The woman could sleep through their alarm clock and the construction at the neighbours', but if he so much as whimpered she shot right up, cocking her gun. Later, she told him that she had nightmares too, that she sometimes dreamt of Katrina, of a black mass engulfing him and dragging him away from her and wasn't it unfair for her lose him when she had only, only just found him?

Gibbs, of course, they hid it from. Although Tony kind of thought he knew anyway – it was Gibbs, after all. But he didn't say anything, didn't want to spoil it. Besides, there was some precious tenderness he found in having Ziva all to himself. This little world they had together – sometimes he wished he could shut down the world and go away with her. And he was so afraid of losing her! But for whatever (beautiful) reason, she was still here, still there every night. And he loved her. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

"Gibbs would have us work on Christmas Eve," Tony grumbled, staring at his computer screen and yet not really seeing anything on it. He blinked, and the soft edges flashed sharp for a minute before receding again and giving way to blurriness. Tired. All he wanted to do was go home and crash. Or Ziva's place. Really, they were almost interchangeable to him at this point.

"I always worked Christmas Eve," Ziva said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Tony rolled his eyes and with practiced skill threw a paper plane at her. It struck in her in the temple and she gasped and jumped, more from surprise than any kind of pain.

"I cannot believe you just did that!" she hissed, glaring at Tony and looking for Gibbs. "You are so immature!"

"That's not what you thought last night."

"What? Tony, that does not even make sense," Ziva scolded. She turned back to her computer screen, and Tony frowned. Work be damned, he had about all the concentration of an ADD kid at Disney world. He clicked through to his favorite internet radio site and turned to holiday music station. He turned on his speakers, and Mariah Carey's clear voice began to fill the office.

"Gibbs is going to kill you," McGee said, not looking up from his paper work. Tony shrugged and crossed the office.

"C'mon," he said, taking Ziva by the hand and pulling her into the middle of the office.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he wrapped one arm around her waist and took one of her hands in his. "Tony."

"Zee-vah," he returned, smiling. "We're dancing."

"I figured that out. Why are we dancing?" she asked as he turned her and then pulled her back to him, holding her closer than before.

"Because it's Christmas."

She gave a small laugh and her gaze softened as he rocked her gently. Dammit, he was going to make her soft and be the death of her. And yet . . . she closed her eyes and began humming along to the music, letting the unfamiliar notes glide across her lips. Perhaps this wouldn't be such a terrible thing to die for.

"I told you," Abby hissed excitedly. McGee jumped at the sound of her voice and she laughed, dark eyes sparkling. "They're in love."

"Don't scare me like that." But he was smiling too, and the stack of white paper was forgotten as they watched. "Gibbs is going to kill them."

"Love of my heart, light of life," Tony whispered in Ziva's ear. She blushed and lowered her gaze, but held him just a little tighter.

"My love," she said softly, and neither noticed as the song changed, or as their audience grew. Which would explain why he didn't hesitate to catch her lips in his, and why she didn't push him away.

And on the edge of the crowd, even Gibbs had to smile at them.

Author's Note: Looking over this story recently, it just didn't feel complete. So I decided a little epilogue was in order - Merry Christmas!