Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you're in a Religious Studies lesson, reading a bible passage out loud, and say Dah-veed rather than Day-vihd.

Listening to: The Crane Wife 3 by the Decemberists

Blind

He pulls at his collar as he walks down the street, ignoring the gaggles of people that swarm past him. Checking his phone once more, he swears and wonders why on earth he's doing this.
Yet another text comes through with the same words as before, and he replies a quick 'OK', welcoming the distraction.

His feet pound the sidewalk with a purposeful slowed rhythm, trying in any and every way, to postpone the future meeting. But then, he rounds a corner and the restaurant's there, glinting into the darkness.
Oh god, he's really going to do this.

"TONY!" he hears a voice squeal, and he crosses the road only to find someone bundling themselves into his arms.
"I'm so glad you didn't get lost!" she says perkily, and he grimaces.

"Yeah, Abs. But I couldn't really get lost, not with all of the texts you've been sending me."

"Oh, never mind that! Come in!" she orders, detaching herself from him and dragging him inside.

Well, DiNozzo, there goes your dignity and your reputation.

000000

The restaurant is playing quiet jazz music, and he stifles a groan because it's so damn posh. Deep green tablecloth covers each wooden block, and dripping candles are nestled inside wine bottles. The aroma of cooked meat and seasoning is drifting through the air, confirmed by the plates sitting in front of many-a-happy couple. Waiters are walking round in full black tie, holding velvet-covered menus, and he feels decidedly out of place.

Eyes scanning through the large expanse, he searches for Abby's friend, but without success. Nobody in this place looks like Abby, or anyone she famously acquaints herself with.
However, he need search no longer, as his eccentric buddy pulls him toward the back of the restaurant, in the direction of a woman who looks like she fits in entirely.
And then, they stop, and he realizes this is their intended destination. Suddenly, this seems like a great idea.
"Tony, I'd like you to meet Ziva."

Ziva stands up, offering out her hand with an understated smile.
"It's nice to meet you." she says, and his insides knot as he drinks in her appearance and repays the compliment.

They order food and drink, but Abby suddenly announces her departure.
Truthfully, he doesn't mind.

"So, uh, how did you and Abby meet?" he asks, breaking the ice with what he hopes is an appropriate question for such a meeting.
She replies with a lengthy explanation, and he only half-listens, using the other half of his concentration to survey the woman he's only just met.

She's wearing a black, off-the-shoulder dress, made out of some sort of shiny material that hypnotizes him just a little, and he assumes she's got some of those tiny little high heels on, that all women seem to wear. Her skin is an olive color, with honey tones added too, and she gives off an air that suggests she's exotic, which has always been his weak spot in women. The dark brown hair of hers is pulled into an up-do, with only a few curly and tantalizing stands hanging down by her ears, and he has to catch himself before he reaches out and winds his finger through the locks. But her eyes get him the most.
They're a chocolate-y brown, accented with mahogany and chestnut and umber and cocoa; dancing with dark mischief but ringing with hidden loss. They hold an inquisitive air to them, but he gets the impression she already knows every single thing about him. And for some reason, other than just the fact he thinks those eyes of hers are windows to a potentially scarred soul, nothing about her makes him like her any less.
And that frightens him.

It's over dessert that he feels Abby was entirely right in her decision. Not just her forcing him to go, not just her creating this scenario, simply for being the one to bring a woman as incredible as Ziva, into his life.
Because she is scarred, he can see that, but she's allowing those scars to heal. And yes, she's secretive, but he is as well. However, the one thing that impresses him, more than anything else, is her calm.

She's not worried or concerned, nor is she edgy or panicked.
He gets the impression that she's let go, for the first in a long time.
And that's admirable in his eyes.

So as he catches a cab with her, he has no regrets about his choice to turn up; no doubts about trusting Abby's judgment- though it is often questionable-, and absolutely no thinking he's made an error in doing this.
The fact that he kisses her on her doorstep has absolutely no affect on his thoughts. At all.

Oh my word, I'm done. And the long Author's note commences. *clears throat*

Alright, first of all, I thank you all for your ever-kind reviews and alerts, they're flattering and helpful and a whole load more, and it's been nice to share this crazy little journey with y'all.

Secondly, many people have been saying how 'hard' it will be to choose a favorite. So, I have devised a ~cunning plan~.
If, when you've finished reading all this, could you pick your top three favorites (assuming you have three, if not then one will be fine) and tell me in a review or PM? I'll then mull it over and maybe- and I mean maybe- I'll continue more than one. Depending on what people like, etc., and even think of this idea.

Thirdly, sorry if this is a bit of a let-down for the final chapter. It kinda sucks, but the idea of a blind date was much harder to write than I anticipated. Plus, I didn't see the point in putting more effort in for the last one than I did for the first one, since everybody else is picking and it's up to all them. (by them, I mean you. Yes, you.)

Fourthly, I'm outta here.
Thank you once again, it's been great. *bows*