my ncis


“Sometimes you meet someone, and it’s so clear that the two of you, on some level belong together. As lovers, or as friends, or as family, or as something entirely different. You just work, whether you understand one another or you’re in love or you’re partners in crime. You meet these people throughout your life, out of nowhere, under the strangest circumstances, and they help you feel alive. I don’t know if that makes me believe in coincidence, or fate, or sheer blind luck, but it definitely makes me believe in something.”


I’ve just realised that every single OTP I have ever had since I was young is lesbian couples. For example:

  1. Dixie and Jess (Casualty)
  2. Root and Shaw (Person of Interest)
  3. Emily and Maya (Pretty Little Liars)
  4. Emily and Alison (Pretty Little Liars) *after Maya died*
  5. Karma and Amy (Faking it)
  6. Zoe and Grace (Degrassi: Next Class)
  7. Kara and Lena (Supergirl)
  8. Abby and Ziva (NCIS)
  9. Morgana and Morgause (Merlin)
  10. Waverly and haught (Wynonna Earp)

The only OTP which is a straight couple is:

  • Sheldon and Amy (The Big Bang Theory)

Face number 27… So they’re showing NCIS on three different channels on any given evening at the moment - a series that has been running for more than ten years, but I watched it for the first time ever a  few weeks ago… and I can now conclude that there has been something missing from my life… the kindly, cute as a button, pathologist Dr. Donald ‘Ducky’ Mallard played by David McCallum. Why has no one pointed me in the direction of this adorable Scotsman before? A most grievous oversight.

Just Like Ima - (Ziva and Tali.)

(Fits in the Separation Anxiety universe.)

It was the middle of the day, but Ziva had already cleared it with Tali’s preschool that the interruption would be okay. They’d decided it was fine, especially considering how long she’d been gone. She loved her new job and it kept her home at much more reasonable hours than her job at NCIS had, but it had the unfortunate drawback of annual conferences lasting a week, none of which, she’d been informed when she started working there, were optional.

Or local, apparently.

She missed her little girl, however, and although this time certainly wasn’t worse than the last time she’d been separated from her, it still made her anxious and ready to see Tali again and give her a big hug. She might just pull her out of school early for some ice cream and a movie marathon.

Ms. Hanson was standing toward the front of the room as the children played, all of them wandering around and interacting with each other over blocks and letters of the alphabet, and she caught Ziva’s eye from inside the room, nodding slightly to signal that she could come in. Ziva took her cue, scanning the room for that mess of light-brown curls and bright brown eyes she’d committed to memory from the moment she’d held her daughter in her arms.

There she is, Ziva realized, her heart flipping at the sight of her, wearing a black long-sleeved t-shirt and a black hat not unlike the one she was currently wearing herself, the one that Tali often took off her head to wear herself, the oversized object falling down over her eyes and making her squeal with laughter. Tali had wanted a hat of her own, and it seemed Tony had gotten her one while she was away.

Just then, Tali turned her head, noting for the first time who was standing behind her. “Ima!” she shrieked, scrambling to her feet and running toward her mother and into a hug. Ziva gathered her up in her arms, patting her back and kissing her cheek, trying - and failing - not to cry.

“Ima, look! Tali’s hat!” She said proudly, pointing to it happily. “Abba buy it,” she added, as if Ziva wouldn’t have been able to determine that piece of information herself. Someday, Tali would understand that her mother had been an investigator and that she would instinctively know these things, but for now, Ziva only smiled.

“It’s lovely, my sweet,” she cooed, tipping the hat gently. “Now you’re just like ima.”

“Just like ima!” Tali agreed with a squeal, and Ziva felt her heart swell with pride at how much her daughter had grown. She might want to be just like her mother for now, but she’d already become her own person in so many ways. And if this small way was the way in which she chose to emulate her mother, rather than so many other ways, then she’d have a much better childhood than Ziva ever had.

It was a dangerous thing to think about, and she immediately pushed the cloudy thought out of her mind. “Come on, Tali,” she said, standing back up and taking her by the hand. “Let’s go home and see abba.”