Title: Ziva's Ghost.
Genre: NCIS – Romance/Angst
Pairing: Toni, Tali and Ziva
Rating: M has adult themes and – run – flashbacks.
Timeline: Post Season 13.
Spoilers: If you've seen it then it does not count as a spoiler.
Summery: His mind would not let go of it: like that movie with Nicolas Cage, where people were convinced he was crazy for drawing a series of squiggly lines. But to be honest, he felt like Bond in Skyfall. Too old to be doing what he was but his loyalty held him accountable. And then there was her Tali, the child with Ziva he never thought he would have. The child that stirred emotions in him, just as her mother had. He could not, would not accept her death. He knew Ziva well enough to know if there wasn't a body she could still be alive… And if she was, he will find her.
Disclaimer: It's nice borrowing someone else's toys – I'll return them, very relaxed, I promise.
A/N: Read the summery… Missy would not let it go either… however took her time to put the pieces together.
Written: over several months in 2016
Language: International English.
Word Count: 2,270 (for now)

I love you Ziva.

Four words he has said so many times… but never directly to her. But he had shown her, had been there for her. He never gave up on her, or his hope for them

And for those brief moments, those stolen days together, when they had finally connected, he had almost said them. But he knew it would not have been fair, that she'd not been ready to hear them, although she knew, had to know.

He'd lied to Tim… It wasn't a fond farewell, it had been everything, the accumulation on all their time together, everything they had gone to, and in a manner a plea for her to give them a chance. Yet it had resulted in so much more.

His gaze again falls on the little girl, their daughter, he still had difficulty wrapping his head around that. He was a father. There was a warmth there in his chest, more powerful than anything else he has ever experienced. It filled him with a protective urge, far greater than he had ever felt for Ziva – possibly because he knew Ziva could look after herself. But this little person was wholly dependant on him.

The adjustment had been difficult. While he at first found it difficult to look at Tali, without seeing her mother in her and again realizing his loss. There were so many times he thought of checking up on her. How things could, would have been different if he had. He would have forced her hand, would have made her return with him. As wicked as it sounded, he would have used Tali to get what he wanted… her mother.

His guilt ate him. He had sensed something was wrong, that he'd made a mistake. He'd even shared his thoughts with Gibbs.

He should have pushed harder, should have followed his gut, should have kept in touch. However all the regrets and doubts are not going to bring her back. They will not answer the most burning question he wanted to ask, demand of her… Why hadn't she told him? Why did she keep Tali a secret?

There was no shame in how she'd been conceived. She was truly a child conceived in love, regardless of what anyone else would care to think. Only love could create something as perfect as Tali. Even Orli's reasoning made no sense.

Releasing a heavy sigh he closed his eyes and allowed the memories reign.

The day in the orchard when she had started her new list, buried it. The day he had asked her to come home, that he was fighting for them. It was the closest he'd ever come to begging. The months he spent looking for her, worrying about her. The need that drove him to find her, to fill the void his live was without her. The anger he had felt towards those who withheld information from him… It had all faded, became irrelevant when he knocked on that on final door, and it opened to reveal her.

The relief that coursed through him he could never put to words, but she was there, safe and alive! However his relief was short lived, for although her initial reaction was one of surprise. Her eyes lit up and she appeared – for just a moment – to be happy to see him, but just as quickly the walls again reappeared and she resisted his presence. Her eyes had said one thing and her mouth another, as they so often did when she tried to protect herself, and he thought he could push through it, if only she would let him.

And in the orchard he'd really thought there was a chance for them, that he'd made his desires clear. But he had also seen the person struggling within, the Ziva he knew, struggling with what she thought was best and with what she wanted. There were times he really thought her a martyr, for she always placed her own needs, desires last. Always blamed herself for things she had no control over.

He knew what she'd felt for he'd also felt it at times, and those were usually the times he could count on her support.

And yet…

As the sun withdrew is light causing long shadows in the orchard and her home, things between them shifted. It was subtle at first, the reappearance of the old Ziva, the one whose space he could get into without thinking. The woman he would touch, just because he wanted to.

He remembered the hope he'd fostered for them when he had initially set out on that journey. That time and opportunity had finally lined up for them, that they might just have the opportunity that had always alluded them.

That evening as the house grew darker, after she'd made her intentions clear in the orchard, there was a different energy around them, one they were well familiar with, but had no reason to check. There was no NCIS, no team, no Gibbs, no rules to check it. They drifted closer. Their looks lingered longer, they became unguarded, blatant even. He'd had no need to withhold his desires anymore. He was willing to let her see it, know it and then decide what she wanted… And she'd responded, as he could only have dreamed she would. Her looks were as unguarded, blatant, causing stirs not only within his body but his entire being.

There were only flashes of their first time. It had been so, so unrestricted. It was all a blur of immense sensation, warmth, pleasure… a sense of closeness he'd never before felt. Yet at the same time demanding, passionate and nowhere near long enough. He could still feel her body pressed against his, they way their skins touched, everywhere, without restriction. The way she had moaned his name in utter abandon.

She had answered with her own passion, challenging him to try and sate his desire, to take his fill, yet they'd remained insatiable.

They made no empty promises after that, both knew the complexity of the matters that needed to be resolved, but they'd given themselves those moments, those few stolen days, where they allowed their bodies to speak for their hearts and minds – unchecked.

For two whole days they had been wrapped around one another, not leaving the bedroom for anything other than the bathroom or to replenish their strengths.

And yet it was not all sex. He'd spent hours simply her holding her, cuddling with her, not wanting the world to intrude on them. Their naked skins pressed closely together, at other times joined and hardly moving. They had shared a level of intimacy that was difficult to describe, one had to experience it to understand. There was so much said between them, without the need for words.

He had tried his best not to think of it since his return, because thinking of it gave him hope, the kind of hope that her necklace lent him; that she would return once she was ready… but the little body sleeping on his couch conveyed an entirely different message.

His gazed again upon the image of his sleeping daughter, their daughter. Even throughout all the hurt and heartache of losing Ziva, Tali was the one ray of sunshine he'd needed to carry on. She was the affirmation of a moment in time that could never be denied or forgotten – certainly never regretted. She was Ziva all over again, only one he got to keep and love without reservations. And yet at the same time there was an brewing anger inside him, for all the time lost, for all the milestones missed. He knew Ziva had not withheld his identity from her, but Tali, he, they could have had so much more. He could have witnessed Ziva's body swell with his child, would even had been cocky about it… he had after all managed to catch the ninja. He would have felt Tali push up against her mother's abdomen and he would have seen her develop into the little person she already was.

Her sudden appearance in his life was just as shocking as her mother's had been, yet he would not trade even a moment for anything in the world. He'd promised himself that he would be the type of father he never had, that neither of her grandfathers ever were… But he wanted Ziva there as well. And that was possibly his biggest challenge. He was angry at her for not considering his feelings, but at the same time grateful for the gift she had given him. A gift that could have been taken from him, just as her mother had been, without him ever having known. He had no idea how he would have felt about that, only how he felt now. It was difficult to imagine such a scenario but if he'd had to guess, it would have been anger.

But boiling underneath it all was an uncertainty, his gut telling him that things weren't right, that something was off. It was like he'd missed the obvious signs, the obvious gaps he had not thought to question at the time.

His daughter was only two, yet she'd survived unscathed. She also did not seem traumatized by the ordeal. Which could only mean one of two things, she was used to being separated from Ziva, for periods of time, which he was uncertain as to how he should react, or Ziva had prepared her. The latter caused his blood to run cold, because that meant she'd known they ware in danger and she hadn't contacted him.

However way he looked at it, Tali should have been more traumatized by events, they had worked with children he'd seen how they respond in such situations, how traumatized they were. Tali did not cling to the people she knew or trusted… and as much as he would have thought it a Ziva trait, it was not human nature.

His gaze shifted to the go-to bag, then shook his head. It had been too meticulously packed. There were things in it that an average person would not have included, they were not necessities, they were not things a child would need. Which only left one conclusion – Ziva had packed the bag. She knew that what it contained and a special meaning. And just like the time in Israel, they were part of a clue a message. He pulled the bag closer and pulled out the non-essential contents. Kaliph he could understand, but the photo and scarf confused him. The scarf was also not one he recognized, and to understand the message he had to know each of the components and how they fitted together. And then there would be those he did not yet have, those he were most likely to find in Israel.

He again looked at his daughter, he would need to see the farmhouse to determine the size of the mortar round and if she had indeed been home at the time. And then there were the facts Orli had not divulged. Ziva had returned to Mossad, even though she had made it clear she wanted to let go of the badge. It did not make any sense, nothing made sense… But then that was Mossad, they divulge only what they want you to know.

He picked up the photo and smiled in remembrance, it had been one of their better trips. He frowned and then flipped it over, quickly checking the backing. Finding nothing he pulled it free and removed the backing boar placing both on the table. His breath caught as he recognized the handwriting on the back of the photo. His fingers brushed over it, almost as if he was hoping he could sense her in those four words.

He took a deep breath and then placed the photo face down on the table. He ran his hands over his face releasing a heavy sigh as he again looked at the words. "The morning I knew" Knew what? He wanted to know. The words did not mean anything in particular to him and he had no idea if they were related to the photo or whether she was trying so say something to him.

He reached for the scarf, turning it over before again lifting it to his nose. It smelt like her and caused an ache to settle around his heart. But other than those obvious effects he could assign no meaning to it.

His gaze again landed on the dissembled photo. Paris? He shook his head, It would be too easy, Ziva would never make anything that easy. Others who knew her may consider it, but he knew better. Last time it took five objects, he only had two, his gaze shifted to Tali – maybe three.

He thought back to her words the afternoon he'd found her, what she had said about Ari and the others. That the centre point of it all was her… but it did not make sense.

Rule 3 crept into his mind, "Don't believe what you are told, double check." and even though he no longer worked for NCIS, certain things left a lifelong impact.

He thought of Orli, of what she said, it had been so specific, rehearsed even. What had that old guy in X Files said? Something along the line of; "The best lies, the most believable ones, were those hidden between two truths." But which were the truth and which were the lies?

They had to return to Israel, there were questions that needed answers.

More to follow.