AUTHOR: Ashleigh Anpilova
PAIRING: Jennifer Shepard/Ziva David
SUB-GENRE: Established Relationship
SUMMARY: Set after Judgment Day. Ziva is missing Jenny.
WORD COUNT: 1,100
SPOILERS: Judgment Day
WARNING: Major character canon death. Please not this is not a happy story. I'm sorry, femme_slash_fan, but this story just insisted on being written.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for femme_slash_fan: L - Lonely
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time.
Drinking tequila straight from the bottle is not Ziva's usual way of doing things, but tonight she wants the alcohol to hit her as fast as possible. She wants to drink as much as possible, as quickly as possible, with as little effort as she can, she want to drinks until she is able to cry.
She wants to forget.
She wants to forget the fact that she let Jenny be killed.
She wants to forget the fact that she will not be returning to NCIS in the morning.
She wants to forget how lonely she is.
She wants to forget she could not save the woman she loved. The woman whose life she once saved and always vowed to protect.
She wants to forget everything and everyone: NCIS; Director Vance; Gibbs; Ducky; McGee; Abby; Palmer; Tony.
She does not blame Tony for Jenny's death even though he had been the one to insist they follow Jenny's 'orders'. He was only a man, only an NCIS Special Agent, and as well as Gibbs trained his team and she will admit Gibbs trains his team well, it does not equate to the way Mossad trains their people. Thus, Jenny's death is not Tony's fault; it is hers. She should have insisted on staying with Jenny and had Tony kept on ignoring her, she should have followed her instincts and protected Jenny on her own.
She truly believes had she been there in the diner with Jenny, Jenny would now not be dead. She has failed her; she has failed her lover and she does not know if she will ever get over that. She who has known great loss in her life, her mother, Tali, Ari (dead by her own hand), her father (dead to her, even though he still lives), she who has always known how to deal with loss, how to cope, how to move on, how to say goodbye, does not this time believe she will get over Jenny's death.
With Jenny gone she is alone. Even though over the three years she has been with NCIS she has got closer to the people on Gibbs's team, she has never truly felt 'one of them'. She has always felt on the outside. But then she has felt that way most of her life, except when she was with Jenny.
Jenny had been so different from her, so cool where she was hot, so fair where she was dark, so balanced where she was feisty. Jenny had only known about lovemaking with men, Ziva slept with men and woman as it suited her. Jenny had fascinated Ziva from the moment they had met, and she was made herself a promise she would melt the Ice Queen - and she had.
It had not taken her long to break through Jenny's barriers, to persuade her after sharing a bottle of wine to go to Ziva's room, to Ziva's bed. She had shown Jenny how to love another woman, how beautiful loving another woman could be; she had taught Jenny, just as she had learned from her.
She had always thought, always believed, it would be a short-lived affair, fun, intense, loving, but at the end of it they would shake hands, kiss on each cheek and walk away, remembering one another with fondness, but nothing more.
And then Jenny had become Director of NCIS and Jenny had wanted to establish a link between NCIS and Mossad. Ziva had been that link. Now she almost wishes she had not taken the job, not that she had any real choice in the matter; no Mossad agent does have a real choice.
But she did have a choice concerning Jenny; she did not have to re-establish their relationship. She had chosen to do that. Just as she had chosen to let herself fall in love with Jenny. Just as she had let Jenny get close to her. Just as she had allowed Jenny into her life, into her home and into her heart.
She is actually glad she has been reassigned because she will be able to leave her apartment which is so full of memories of Jenny. They always met at Ziva's home, never at Jenny's. Jenny liked the freedom of Ziva's apartment, the size of it, the warmth of it, the feel of it. She liked nothing more than kicking off her shoes, pouring herself a drink, pulling Ziva into her arms and just enjoying the evening; an evening when she was not the Director of NCIS but just a woman, a lover, a person, herself.
Ziva takes another swallow from the bottle, vaguely noticing it is less than half full now, yet she still does not feel even remotely drunk. She takes another swallow and begins to wander around the apartment, touching chairs, tables, books, the music centre, pictures, touching everything Jenny had touched.
The one place she still has not gone into is the bedroom - because that will remind her all too powerfully of the last time they were there. The last time Jenny was naked in her bed, covers thrown back, not in the least bit embarrassed by her body, just lost in Ziva's lovemaking, lost in the way with fingers, lips and tongue she had made love to Ziva, lost in the way Ziva had cried out her name when climaxing.
Ziva does not want to remember that last time, but it is forever seared into her memory. She does not want to remember Jenny, but she knows she always will. She does not want to remember that she loved Jenny and was loved by Jenny, but she knows no matter how many other lovers she takes, no matter how often she loves again, she will always love Jenny. She does not want to be alone but she is.
Finally she takes another swallow of tequila and forces herself to go into the bedroom to take one more look at the room she was the happiest in. She sees it on the dresser; Jenny's earring, the one they had spent far too long looking for on the morning after their last night together.
She picks it up and holds it in her hand, closing her fingers around it, warming it, holding it. She is alone, she is lonely, but that is how she has been for so much of her life.
Finally the tequila begins to hit her.
Finally she begins to cry.
Finally she gives into the loneliness, sinks down onto the bed, curls into a ball and cries for the lover she has lost.