Summary: Even in the last moments before separation, some things are hard to say. The night before they part, Ziva plays Tony a song on the piano that he will never forget. A fic based on the song "Run", by Leona Lewis.

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or Run.

Spoilers: The single most famous sentence from Truth or Consequences (except that, of course, if you've never watched Truth or Consequences you wouldn't know which sentence I'm talking about anyway).

Song lyrics gotten from : metrolyrics, 2010.

If you've never heard Leona Lewis's version of "Run", you should go listen to it. It will change your life. And then please read this fic and review!

-Soph

Goodbye

xoxo

I'll sing it one last time for you

Then we really have to go

You've been the only thing that's right

In all I've done

Run, by Leona Lewis

xoxo

"How come you've never played the piano for me before?"

Tony's voice pierces the quiet night; shatters the fragile peace that floats uneasily between them. Ziva slowly turns her head to look at him, and the passionate greens that meet her eyes almost make her gasp. She feels her heart breaking, like he's plunged a knife deep into it and twisted the knife around to make sure that there are no more big pieces left.

She knows that she's the one who's plunged the knife into herself, simply by keeping quiet; by not saying what she should have said. And still she can't bring herself to say what she should now, so she says instead, "Because you have never asked me to, Tony."

"I'm asking now." His green eyes plead her to run her fingers over the ivory keys and fill his heart with melody; her melody, because that's what he needs to remember.

"What would you like me to play?"

"Your favourite song." His answer is not hesitant, because he knows that it would be a part of her, and that's all he needs right now.

Ziva thinks about this for a while. Finally she says, "I have different favourite songs for listening to, for singing, and for playing on the piano. But I will play you one of the songs that I love the most."

"Okay." He watches her as she gets up and goes over to the piano. She runs her hands over the polished black lid that covers the keys before lifting it up, and she almost seems reluctant as she sits down. Suddenly she turns her head and looks at him, her brown eyes swirling with entreaty.

"Come and sit with me."

And just like before, they both know that it isn't an invite or a request; it is a plea, because there is no longer time for any other. He goes over and sits by her side. It is as if that is something they have done for years, when in fact they have never done it before, and will probably never do it again.

She takes a deep breath and her slender fingers press down on the keys. And it is in that moment that Tony knows; if there was anything he needed to make his world go round it would be for her to play for him. Not to him or with him, but for him, with her heart and her soul, with all of her.

She starts to sing. "I'll sing it one last time for you; then we really have to go."

And his heart breaks, just like hers did. The words he never said to her surface in his mind against his will. He doesn't want say goodbye; he doesn't want it to be the last time that she sings for him. But life must travel on its own path, and there is nothing they can do about it. C'est la vie. That's life. She had taught him that. She had taught him a lot of things that he hadn't even realized he'd learnt from her until now.

Friendship. Laughter. Love. Life. Concepts foreign to him until he joined NCIS. The former two Kate and Gibbs had taught him; the latter two Ziva had. They were the hardest lessons he had ever had to learn, and yet they were made easier because he had had her beside him, guiding him with her soft touch and kind words. And where would he be now but for her?

"Couldn't live without you, I guess."

Words spoken what seemed like a million years ago. Even then he couldn't tell her the truth. It wasn't as simple as him not being able to live without her. It was his world coming to life with her in it; his heart beating a little faster, his step being a little quicker. It was the way colours seemed brighter whenever she was around. It was her expressive eyes; her beautiful face. It was her hair. Her scent. Her voice, oh, her perfect voice. It was her.

He wonders if the angels cry because of all the chances they have given him that he let pass by. He is sorry that he has never told her he loves her, but he has never found the courage to, just as she has never found the courage to tell him she loves him. They both know it to be the truth. People think they deny it, but the fact of the matter is that they repress it. Love is a word forbidden to them, especially if they have to mean it when they say it.

She stops playing now, because she is crying too hard. Tears are streaming down her face and her shoulders are heaving, and yet she makes not a single sound. Tony gathers her into his arms and holds her, and she just cries into his chest. They never say a word, because that's what their relationship is based on. Unspoken words, unbroken silences.

He isn't surprised when the first thing she asks after she has stopped crying is, "Do you know what song that is?"

"Run, by Leona Lewis," he answers her; reassures her that he knows what she means to tell him.

"Yes." Her voice breaks, and he thinks she is going to start crying again, but she doesn't. Instead her tear-stained face looks up at him and she says, "Goodbye, Tony."

He runs his thumb along her cheekbone, memorizing her beautiful eyes and the curve of her lips and the smell of her hair. He burns the image of her into his mind, because he knows that the day he forgets her will be the day his world ends. And only when he is satisfied that he will never forget does he say it.

"Goodbye, Ziva."