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Those three little words closed any remaining gap between them, and unless work related, they also put an end to either of them sleeping alone. They slipped into a domesticity that came so easily it was almost scary. His neighbors soon became aware of her and she found herself welcomed by families that had known Jethro for over twenty years. She laid out new running routes for herself through the neighborhood and found herself waving often to neighbors that recognized her. Dinner invitations were extended to them which surprised the offerers when they were actually accepted, Jethro Gibbs was known for almost being hermit. And with only a little hesitancy on his part, they themselves extended dinner invitations and for the first time in he couldn't even remember how long, his home was filled with people and laughter as they ate a home cooked meal off of the china that Shannon had picked out twenty-five years ago.
The discussion that they had had about the china was really a thinly veiled conversation about Shannon and her place in their current lives. Gibbs did not want Ziva to be uncomfortable with reminders of Shannon in his home, he did not compare the two woman. They both had a place in his life, Shannon the past, Ziva the present and future. And he had offered, when she first brought up the subject of inviting people over for a meal, to pack the china away and let Ziva pick out something new, something hers. But Ziva, in the same practical way that she had taken over Kate's desk, told him to leave the china right were it was in the hutch. She understood what he was trying to do for her, but she also understood tradition and knew that all those years ago that that china had been picked out with the dream of a lifetime of holidays and special occasions yet to come. A dream that had been cruelly destroyed. And when she took the delicately flowered plate from his hand and put it gently back in the hutch her simple “I don't think Shannon would mind” conveyed to him that it really was okay with her, and that was that.
Thanksgiving had been a wonderful holiday, spent with Ducky and Mrs. Mallard and most of the rest of the team. It was the first time that any of them had seen Ziva and Gibbs together as a couple. And what surprised them was that they were no different than they were at the office. Maybe a little freer to tease, and there was the occasional casual touch, but there was no mooning over each other or ridiculous public displays of affection. The only thing that even came close was when they were outside playing touch football and Gibbs caught her and threw Ziva over his shoulder and ran with her to keep her from making a touchdown. Everyone had had a good laugh over that and she had punched his arm playfully. Mrs. Mallard's rather loud pronouncement that Gibbs “should marry that girl” made everyone laugh all the harder, and managed to make Gibbs' face turn as red as his sweatshirt.
Work was work, and in a short space of time they managed to clear McGee's sister of murder, stop a female serial killer, and play with a really cool robotic vehicle. But all of that was overshadowed by Tony's odd behavior. Ziva was getting more and more concerned about his actions, and she was terrified that something was really wrong. Something he wouldn't share.
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Ziva being Jewish was defining to her. She was proud to be Jewish, and her culture and faith were important to her. And Gibbs knew that. They had talked about it late one night as he was lying with his head on her chest, his finger tracing the Star of David she always wore. She had asked him if it bothered him that she was Jewish. Gibbs had tilted his head and given her his patented “are you crazy” look and his only reply was “same God”. They had never talked about faith, and where he stood on religion and God and the host of things that went with them. His own beliefs were very private to him, and she respected that.
She found the first gift tucked into her favorite mug in the cupboard when she went to get them after dinner coffees. Wrapped in blue paper and tied with a simple white bow, it made her smile. He remembered. Opening it she laughed, it was candy. But not just any candy. It was candy that she had only remembered mentioning once, months ago, in a casual conversation at the office. It was candy from her childhood, from her home. He watched from behind her, enjoying the view of the soft curve of her cheek drawn up in a smile and her raven curls cascading down her back. Silky curls that he loved playing with while she slept nestled beside him. Her “you remembered” was said without her turning around. And his teasing “Of course I remembered, Happy Hanukkah” was said as he stepped up behind her and put his hands on her waist, and kissed the top of her head. But that wasn't what she meant, and her repeated “no, I mean, you remembered” was playfully accusing as she lifted the candy. He chuckled and his retorted “I am trained to remember details, Ziva” was playful in return.
Before she could reply he took her by the hand into the living room over to a little table he had set up near the front window. On it was a beautiful wooden Menorah that she instantly knew had not been purchased in any store. He had made it with his own hands, sawing and shaping and fitting together blocks of wood into a beautiful symbol of her faith, an heirloom of their own to be cherished and handed down. He handed her the candles and listened to her lilting voice recite the blessings in Hebrew. And with both their hands on his lighter, they lit the shamash and the first of eight candles. As they stood together, with his arm around her and watched the little flames flicker Ziva's thoughts went to those loved ones she had lost, and to the ones he had lost. And then her thoughts moved on to think of the many blessings in her life, the most important one was the gift of being loved by the man standing next to her, and it was truly a divine blessing that two people that had seen such violence and bloodshed and had both lost so much, would find each other.
Each night of the holiday she found a gift for her. The second night she found an odd, lumpy looking blue wrapped package on the coffee table for her, she opened it to find a half dozen skeins of soft yarn. She had told him that she wanted to make an afghan for the couch and the yarn was the perfect shade for it. The third night was a stunning silk scarf that she had admired in a shop window when they were on their way to interview a witness in one of their cases, she hadn't realized that he had noticed. The forth night's gift was something she had been complaining she needed for weeks, a large wok. The fifth night she found a tinkling glass wind chime, with pieces in every color of the rainbow. The sixth night was a set of exotic spices from around the world. The seventh night's gift took her breath away, it was a beautiful wooden jewelry box with an intricate middle eastern design inlaid in ebony wood on the top. She recognized the ebony, he had had a piece of it on his workbench weeks ago, but never mentioned what it was for, now she knew.
The eighth night's gift made her cry. The box was very small, not much bigger than a deck of cards, and when she opened it to see an old fashioned brass key nestled in tissue she couldn't stop the tears. The key was to the upright piano in the corner. A piano that he hadn't allowed anyone to play since he closed and locked it after Kelly died. She had only asked him about it once, and after hearing his reply she had never mentioned it again. And knowing what it meant to him to give her that key she couldn't stop the tears. He chided her with a smirk as he wiped them away and pulled her over to the piano where she fitted the key with a shaking hand. Once it was open, she placed her fingers gently on the keys and thought for a moment and started playing Amazing Grace, the gentle squeeze of his hands on her shoulders his show of acceptance. The piano was in desperate need of tuning, and the song did not sound musically perfect, but it was perfect none the less, a perfect acknowledgment of the past, and the grace that that brought them together.
Each night they lit the candles together and when Hanukkah was over, she carefully tucked the menorah into the hutch in the dining room, and if he was ever surprised at the sight of her heirloom sitting next to Shannon's heirlooms he never let it show.
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tbc...
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