The apartment was dark when Tony opened the front door. He sighed heavily and yanked at his tie, loosening the knot so it hung crookedly. He shut the door softly behind him and leaned against it for a minute, gathering his emotions.

The faint sound of the water running in their bathroom shower trickled out and Tony sighed. He wondered how long she had been in there tonight. She'd had a good run of days where the shower was only used for its actual purpose.

After a few more seconds, Tony eventually dropped his pack to the floor, nudging it out of the doorway with his foot. His Italian loafers were carefully toed off next, his suit jacket, a little wrinkled and smelly from the day, shucked and dropped over the back of the couch. Tony knew he was taking his sweet time, but God, it was painful to see Ziva hurting when his own hurt was so raw.

He hoped the shower would've been turned off by the time he reached their bedroom, but no dice. Tony checked his watch. Almost 10. He was late, but the time meant Ziva was having a bad day. His heart broke into pieces for his wife.

"Ziva?" He knocked tentatively on the shut bathroom door. Tony rolled up his shirtsleeves and waited for Ziva to respond. When she didn't, he knocked again, a little harder.

"Ziva," he sighed, "If you don't acknowledge me, I'm coming in there and seeing you for myself."

He imagined her rolling her eyes, frowning, giving an exasperated huff. But no, on her bad days, Ziva usually stared blankly at the walls, no half-amused, half-frustrated smiles to be seen.

He pressed his ear against the door, hoping to hear her voice. There was maybe some sniffling? Tony frowned, tested the doorknob, and found it locked.

"Damnit," he growled, taking a step back before jamming his shoulder into the door, cracking it open. He stumbled into the bathroom, making a mental note to ask Gibbs if he would come over to fix the door, again.

Ziva startled a little at the sudden appearance of her husband, sparing him a brief glance before shaking her head, "Get out."

Tony rubbed irritably at his shoulder and frowned, "'Get out'? That's all you're gonna say? How long have you been in there?"

Ziva wrapped her arms tighter around her bare legs and pretended the water was too loud to hear him. Tony closed his eyes briefly; maybe he'd been a little snappy with her.

"Ziva," he tried again, voice softer this time, "Shutting me out doesn't do anyone any good. You know Rachel said we should talk about this."

He stepped closer to the shower, leaning lightly against the metal frame. She didn't look at him when she said, "I was not anticipating spending my evening like this."

Tony knew she was trying to be strong, but a consequence of her time away was the breaking down of walls. Ziva was, not necessarily an open book with her feelings, but the bad emotions were more easily seen in her features. On the flip side, she was also more open with her affection.

"No one ever does," Tony muttered sympathetically. In a split second he made the decision to step into the shower stall, his Oxford and slacks immediately getting soaked. Ziva looked up at him curiously and then readjusted her gaze as he sunk to sit on the floor next to her, the shower's cool spray flattening his hair to his head.

Ziva pushed her own sopping curls off of her face and carefully leaned her head against Tony's shoulder. Maybe she wasn't as bad as he thought, if she was openly leaning on him. He held his breath, feeling silly that he had to walk on such eggshells around his own wife.

"Delilah is pregnant," Ziva murmured into his shoulder.

Tony's hand moved to rest against Ziva's bare calf.

"I know," he replied simply. Tim had told him earlier and he really was thrilled for his best friend, honest, but it was hard with Ziva's latest miscarriage so recent.

"How'd you find out?" Tony asked, praying that he might be able to get Ziva out of the shower soon.

"Delilah and I went for coffee this morning," Ziva sighed and Tony felt her fingers scramble to hold onto his shirtsleeve.

"It'll happen for us, Ziva," Tony leaned his cheek against the top of Ziva's head, barely believing his own words.

Ziva let out a derisive snort, "I do not think so, Tony."

The water had cooled past the point of comfort and now it felt like shards of ice hitting his skin. He shivered a bit and rubbed his thumb against her leg, "Wanna get out of the water? I'm starting to feel like Leo in Titanic."

He gave her a broad, cheesy grin, trying to elicit a smile or even a smirk. She ran her free hand through her knotted hair and nodded.

"Okay. I think," she murmured, grasping his hand, "that I have been mopping long enough."

"Moping," Tony corrected automatically, pulling his wife to her feet and tugging her into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her back, holding her close.

Being in the safe embrace of Tony's arms, Ziva finally broke down. Tony carefully reached behind him and shut the water off. Ziva shook against his chest and Tony cupped the back of her head and splayed his hand flat against her back.

"It's gonna happen, Ziva," he promised. "One way or another, you'll be a mom. You're gonna be a great one, too."

She clung to him, shaking from emotion and the cold. Tony finally lifted her slightly and set her on the bath mat. He grabbed a towel and wrapped her up tightly, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to warm her up.

While Ziva stood shivering slightly on the mat, Tony stripped down to his boxers, leaving his sodden clothes in a pile on the floor.

"Come on, Z," Tony gently nudged her into their bedroom. "Put on something comfy and we can relax."

She dropped to sit on their mattress. With teary brown eyes, she looked up at him. Tony stood in front of her, his hair and boxers still dripping water on the floor, and waited.

"I am sorry, Tony," she sighed.

"Hey," he shook his head and squatted so they were eye-to-eye, "Nothing to be sorry about." His hands reached out to grab Ziva's knees; "There's a reason for everything."

"I do not deserve you," she sighed, the corner of her mouth twitching a little.

Tony leaned forward and kissed her softly. As he relaxed back on his haunches, he said, "Nah, you're too good for me. Now come on, get dressed. We wrapped the case today, so Gibbs gave us the day off tomorrow."

It was a lie, but Tony had every intention of calling Gibbs early in the morning and telling him that he'd be taking the day.

Boss wouldn't mind.

Ziva needed Tony around more than he needed to be working the case.

And Tony needed to be with Ziva for his own sanity.

His heart felt like it was shattered in pieces and holding Ziva in his arms was the only way that he felt like it could be whole again.

A/N: I've been playing in the Tiva sandbox again lately, and this is the product. I saw a picture on Tumblr, posted by Pascal Campion (aka the man responsible for 99% of my Tiva feels) and this is the result of my brain running away with an idea.

They feel a little out of character to me, but that's probably a result of not writing them as much as I used to. I'll get better at them again lol.

Drop me a review and let me know what you think! Happy Leap Day too! :)