Her condo was warm. Almost too warm. She would dread her next power bill. Dinner plates, all but licked clean sat on her coffee table. She had made an eggplant stew, similar to what her mother used to make, but slightly less spicy, for Tony's benefit. He had joked that their entire relationship was just a ploy to get him to like eggplant. Something she did not deny.

Her legs were draped over Tony's lap while they watched a movie. Throughout the movie, his fingers would absently trace circles on her thighs. It felt nice. Peaceful. Safe.

The movie was in black and white. She was sure it was based on a book, maybe Patricia Highsmith, but she wasn't sure. Tony was engrossed in it, despite having seen it a few times. Every so often, he would lean into her ear, and tell it would all make sense in the end.

She smiled, as they sat there. Quiet and content. Outside, the rain started, and she wondered if it might snow. Thanksgiving was in a couple of days, and from what she had caught of the weather report, it just might. It would be her ninth winter in D.C, and was warming up to the idea of four months of snow.

She leaned close to Tony, and ran her fingers through his hair. She nuzzled her nose into the nape of his neck.

"You okay?" he asked, not looking up from the movie.

"Yes," she said, smile still not fading.

And she was. It had been months since she gave up the badge for good, and now it was starting to feel like she had landed on her feet. Like a cat who fell from the hundredth storey of an apartment building.

She had started some online classes for university, and was doing well. Tony was trying to convince her to take a film studies class as an elective, because it was something they could do together. He promised her that with him as a study partner, she would get an A.

She had found a job at a local NGO, she translated the mundane stuff for women who were still learning English. Three mornings a week, she explained tax forms, and pharmacy instructions. It was so different from her old life, but a satisfaction came from helping others help rebuild their lives. How genuinely these women would thank her. But she did not need their thanks, she was already so proud of what she did.

"I love you," she murmured into his ear, before placing a kiss on his cheek. His arm snaked around her waist, and pulled her even closer. Their skin pressed against one another.

"I love you too," he told her. Turning around and looking her in the eye. They wore matching smiles for a moment.

All was well. All was right.

He had been so good to her. She knew what a change it was for him, to go from having her by his side everyday, while they saved the world, to this peaceful little life she was trying to carve out. He had been so helpful, and so patient. He had found her an adult ballet class, from a flyer in a coffee shop near the Navy Yard. She had been so nervous, as she walked through those doors, expecting to find professional ballerinas whose eager eyes would notice how uncoordinated she had gotten. Instead, it was a more casual affair, and she found herself looking forward to Tuesday evenings. She found herself reveling in the burning of her muscles they next day. How quickly the old steps came back to her. How she felt like a child again.

"This was one of my mothers favourites," he declared as there was montage of the main couple falling in love. "When we used to take the train into the city, we used to pass the time by going through our top ten movies. She always ranked this one fairly high. She told me, that I'd get it when I was older."

She ran her hand through his hair again. They were both getting better at this. Letting the ghosts come out from the shadows. Talking about those that were not here, but still so missed. As the summer had started to fade, he had cashed in a couple of days of comp time, and taken her for a four day weekend. They'd driven up to Long Island, and he had shown her pieces of his past, where his old house used to be, the first Catholic school he had gotten kicked out of, and his mother's grave.

"I think she would have liked you," he murmured. "Once she got over the fact that you rank Pirates of the Caribbean in your top ten."

She laughed. A huge belly laugh. He laughed too. The rain pelted down.

"My mother would have liked your appetite," she declared, as the laughter faded. "And I think she would have seen that you a good man."

"Well I try," he deflected.

"Tali would have liked you too," she whispered. "You two would have been fast friends."

He smiled at her. They had gone to the opera the Saturday before, with Thanksgiving being late this year. He had held her hand, while they watched a production of Carmen. He had wrapped her in his jacket, as they walked to the car. She had told him stories, during the long car ride back to her place. The time Tali played one of the street children in Carmen. The audition for Micaela that Tali was so excited for. The audition she had never gone to. Ziva trying to improve Tali's french.

"Whatcha thinking about?" he asked, lazily as the credits started to roll on the film. "I can hear your thoughts buzzing away in there. Like bees."

Sometimes her thoughts did sting.

"It is nothing," she lied. Voice soft. For a moment his eyes flitted with concern, but then he noticed her smile. She was okay. They were both okay.

"So, you're not thinking about your super hot boyfriend," he muttered, wearing his bedroom eyes. "And how you have me all to yourself tonight."

He had been gone for five days, because of a case. A missing child. She knew just how hard Gibbs worked them, when it came to kid cases. Thankfully, it proved to be a custody dispute, and the child had been unharmed. She knew of course, that would not have stopped Gibbs' giving the warring parents a piece of his mind.

"Well that too," she said with a giggle, "But I was thinking, that I am happy."

She had said as much to her therapist during her most recent appointment, listing things to look forward too, and talking about the future. That's progress the therapist had beamed, as she scratched something on her little notebook.

Maybe, she would finally put the past to bed. Maybe, she could have a nice future. Maybe, she could find peace.

"Like in this moment?" he asked. "Right now?"

Curled up on the sofa. Belly full. Loving, and being loved in return. It was just so nice. So peaceful.

"Yes," she whispered, "But also overall."

She felt safe and secure in her relationship. She still had her friends from her old life, despite the fears that they would no longer want her, now that she had let go of the badge. She regularly had coffee dates with McGee, and he had helped her with her math coursework. Her and Abby had regular girls-nights. She and Ducky had regular tea dates, always away from the Navy Yard. She was still apprehensive to face those pumpkin walls again.

She had even found a way to use her old fighting skills for good. Once a week she taught self-defense at a women's centre. She relished in watching women who were so afraid, find confidence and peace in themselves. She watched as slowly but surely, a sense of safety returned to those women who knew the horrors of the world too explicitly.

"Good," he whispered. "Good."

And she still had so much more to look forward to. Schmeil was going to visit for Thanksgiving, because this year Thanksgiving and the first night of Hanukkah overlapped, and Schmeil was excited for the combined celebration. The two holidays would not overlap again in both of their lifetimes. Senior would also be coming down from New York, and she was looking forward to seeing him.

She was also trying to plan a trip to Italy with Tony, for his next birthday. He had wanted to trace the DiNozzo family history. Schmeil was helping her do a bit of research, calling in some favours from a few colleagues in Europe. She hoped to have some starting points, for them to trace the DiNozzo family legend. She was hoping that she could keep it a surprise, for as long as possible. She could already picture Tony's face lighting up as she handed him the tickets.

"Are you happy, Tony?" she asked. Voice soft. A tiny bit afraid, that he would say no.

That question had been asked before. Piercing his heart as it did. He'd always skirted around them, quoting movies, or avoiding the question. This time the answer fell from his mouth before had a chance to catch it.

"Yeah," he said, voice strong not wavering. "Yeah, I am."

And he was. So damn happy. Happy to come home to her. Filled with excitement for the future. Ghosts of girlfriends past, probably snickered at the thought of him wanting the picket fence dream.

"Good," she said, as she stood up from the couch, and took his hand, in hers. They both wore their bedroom eyes. He placed a deep kiss on her lips as they stood in front of each other. "Good."

They scampered to her bedroom, giggling. Hand in hand. Matching smiles on their faces.

A/N:

I don't own a thing, but man if I did Ziva David would have gotten her happy ending.

That's a wrap folks.

The muse is toying with some other ideas, but don't hold your breath. The muse is a fickle beast. But there is just so much more story to tell, with these two.

Thank you all so much, for all the love, all the reviews, and all the favourites. Thanks for putting up with the erratic updates, and typos. Thank you dear reader. Thank you so much. Again, thank you so very much.

According to Wikipedia and buzz-feed (two highly reputable sources, I know!) Thanksgiving and Hanukkah did sort of overlap in 2013, the first night of Hanukkah overlapped with the Thursday evening of US Thanksgiving. I'm neither American, nor Jewish, so don't quote me on that.

Carmen is a French opera, but set in Spain around 1830. It follows a doomed love affair, and looks at jealousy, and all consuming love. Did I blow a month of overtime money on tickets to see a local production? Yes. Was I the youngest person in theatre by half a century? Yes. Was it worth it? Yes.

Again, thank you so much for reading. It really warms my heart.