The sun rose on a warm September morning in Washington DC at 6.36 am and cast a warm orange glow over the city. The only people around to view the beauty were the early morning runners and the dog walkers. It was long after the first rays entered his apartment that Tony got out of bed, since it was Sunday he could enjoy the comfort of his bed for a few extra hours. He groggily stumbled towards his kitchen and flipped the switch for the kettle, his head was throbbing like a college hangover. The night before had been completely alcohol free instead the source of his pain came from tiredness and work troubles. He had been working late at NCIS till 4am hoping for a break in the case, and when they finally got one it took another hour to break the suspect and force and confession from their suspect. He always felt awful when working late, especially on murder cases, but the victim had been an 8 year old girl which made it all the worse. When the kettle finally boiled he drank his coffee fast, regardless of the burning down his throat, while swallowing Advil. It would take a while before it kicked in, so Tony went and showered in the hope that when he stepped out he would feel refreshed like the way they always seemed to in the commercials.
Tony stood facing the stream of water, and the hot steam filled his sinuses. He washed his hair with his two in one shampoo conditioner, and soaped his muscular body with shower gel. Unlike most people Tony had body confidence, but then you had to be in shape for his line of work. A few months before he had let a perp outrun him, and Tony had felt so guilty he had hit the gym extra hard. He knew it wasn't entirely his fault but because of him the criminal had got away and the sailor's wife never got to see justice for her murdered husband. After all the Washington motto was 'Justitia Omnibus', 'Justice for All' and Tony had failed in that respect. He tried not to think about it and focus on other cases but every once in a while he would think of all the people he had failed, when that happened he just buried himself in work. After fifteen minutes in the shower Tony felt he had soaked long enough so he stepped out and wrapped a towel round his waist before brushing his teeth.
Fully dressed, he emerged from the bathroom and took his usual Sunday morning place on the couch. He flipped through channels in his typical fashion, sports, news, cop dramas, TV was so repetitive, the Washington Nationals baseball interviews, Muriel Bowser giving statements to the press, a re-run of CSI. Finally he settled on watching a repeat of the Redskins game with a bowl of soggy cereal in his lap that he was neglecting to eat. He hated Sunday's and also loved them. It was his only day off from work, which meant a well earned break to relax, but ultimately it was spent alone in his apartment every week. His father in New York, and no girlfriend to spend time with. He could call McGee or Bishop but he didn't want to seem that desperate, maybe he could start building boats like Gibbs instead. When the Redskins won he felt a little pride, as he always did when his team won. He switched off the television and sighed in boredom. He grabbed a dust rag and some Kiwi polish and polished his shoes for the coming week. Once he was satisfied with the shine he cleaned his gun as it was his most important tool, with the exception of his experience, he treasured it and took care of it because for him it was his life. A government issued Sig-Sauer P228 that was sleek, yet manly in a way.
By noon he had done everything he need to, weapon maintenance, shoe care, tidied his apartment, though that only took a half hour, he was then free to spend his day however he wanted. The trouble was he had nothing to do, well there was some outstanding paperwork but he wasn't that bored yet. He could always get a head start on taxes but again, there had to be something else to occupy his time. Anything else. For a brief moment he considered reading but that seemed dull and 'McGee-ish' so instead he went to the park for a walk. He enjoyed walking at the park because it meant he could people watch, a good practise for being an investigator. He watched people walking past him and tried to figure them out whilst using the observation skills he had learned through NCIS. Not everyone could rely on their 'gut' like Leroy. A middle aged bald man walked past with a briefcase, dried egg on his untucked shirt, and dirty glasses. Tony concluded that he was unhappy with his job and depressed at how his life had turned out, beyond caring about appearance, Tony gave it a year before he bought some mid life crisis sports car (probably red) or moved into his elderly parent's basement to have an overwhelming existential crisis.
Around half past six Tony decided to go for dinner, he wasn't usually one for eating alone but he was hungry and hadn't gone shopping. He went to a new restaurant called Giorgio's that had just opened in Georgetown. He had been recommend to try it by his doctor on their last encounter, and he assumed that if a doctor thought it was good food then it must be! He made small talk with the waiter as he was shown to a table for one and hoped that he wouldn't see anyone from work. Nothing would look lonelier. Although it wasn't as if McGee would make fun of him, McGee probably had dinner alone every night he thought but Bishop would be insufferable. Gibbs would probably say nothing but he would silently be wondering why he didn't just build boats in his basement while drinking Jack like normal people... Tony looked around at his surroundings, it was a little fake but nice. He always found it slightly weird when restaurants go out of their way to pretend to seem 'European' and this was no exception, plaited dining cloths, candles, bad music playing in the background. He doubted if any of them had ever been to Italy much less learned how to cook there, but the menu promised 'authentic Italian cuisine'.
Tony picked up the menu and started to look through it, page after page of fake italian food that was incorrectly titled. Long before he was decided a waitress came to take his order. Her hair was tied up neatly, a spare pencil tucked behind her ear, and pen and pad in hand.
"May I take your order?" She said. Tony did not look up but chuckled slightly if it was supposed to be an Italian accent this person needed to work harder.
"I'm actually still looking." He replied his eyes still glued to the menu that covered half his face. "What would you recommend?"
"Well it is all delicious," She said in a monotone clearly as doubtful of the food as Tony, "but I would say the Carbonara is an excellent dish, sir." Her voice betrayed her, it was clear she had not even tried the Carbonara let alone enjoyed it.
Tony nodded and put down his menu staring at the table. "I will have that then thank you. And a glass of Chardonnay to drink please." The waitress carried on scribbling on her pad, not even glancing at her customer before she walked away. Whilst he waited for his food Tony carried on searching through his phone for updates on work, recently it was all he had been doing. There was a time where he had enough moments free to chase after whatever piece of skirt caught his fancy, now he just immersed himself into NCIS as if there were nothing else in life. For him there wasn't anymore. Work, go home, go to work, go home, the same old routine every day.
A plate of hot Carbonara was placed in front of him and the aroma coming from it was already delicious, and looked up to thank the waitress.
"Thank yo-" Tony dropped his phone on the table and it made a loud thunk that caused several customers to sigh at the clumsy man who had apparently interrupted their evenings. There was silence for a long time as Tony stared at the waitress. "Ziva?"
Author's note: I'm not usually one for the cliff hangers, but there ya' go! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, of my first Tiva fanfiction, I will be updating soon with the next instalment. Until then please follow, or favourite, and to make me smile extra wide leave a review! Please let me know what you thought, and any comments on my writing as I do love reading them so much.