So, there were two ways I wanted to take this, and I really could not decide. So I did them both. They both start off more or less the same, but they have different endings. This one is sad, the other is happy. I have not finished the other one, but I think I will upload it as a second chapter to this. Either that or I upload it as a different story. I do not know – what do you think? Upload it with this one, or have them completely separate?

Nerves

It wasn't fair. None of it. Not the way he made her smile, or the way she looked at him. It wasn't fair that he would have to smile at her tomorrow as she walked down the aisle, pretend that he was happy for her. It wasn't fair that he would have to smile when she would announce her pregnancy with Thomas's children, and smile at the birth of the children that he wanted to be his. It wasn't fair that he would have to watch as she grew old with Thomas, and retired with Thomas.

He'd thought it had hurt when she had brought him in to meet them all.

He'd thought it had hurt when she walked in with the diamond on her finger.

He knew it would hurt much more as she stood in a white gown.

He always thought they would have time. Time to admit their feelings, or at least for him to admit his feelings. Time to find their fit in the world together.

Now the last grain of sand was tumbling to the bottom of the hourglass and it was too late.

He smiled as a key turned in the lock of his front door. Only one other person besides him had a key to his apartment. Given for when they had a bad day at the office, or he had lost his key, or she needed a bottomless alcohol supply and someone to talk to, or all of the above. A quiet voice floated through as the door creaked open. "Are you home?"

"Where else would I be?" He snorted self-depreciatingly. "Although you should be home. Big day tomorrow."

"I wanted to be here." She sat down on the couch next to him, snuggling into his side as he wrapped a warm arm around her. They sat silently, staring at nothing, wanting nothing more than to stay in their little bubble of sheltered warmth. It was the last night she would be able to do this. The last night before she was a married woman and he wouldn't be able to feel her in his arms any more.

"Why are you here, Ziva? We said you couldn't keep coming over."

"He is at his brother's tonight. He has the bachelor party." She buried her face into his shirt. "I cannot do it, Tony. I cannot marry him."

"Of course you can."

"I cannot. I do not love him."

"Yeah, you do. These are just wedding jitters. You're nervous. It's normal." He smiled, being as convincing as he could be whilst his heart pleaded with him to tell her that she was right and she didn't love him, not really. But she did, and he loved her, which made what he felt for her wrong, because she wasn't his to love.

Whatever happened to freedom of love?

"But I do not love him, Tony. How can I marry someone I do not love?"

"You can't. But you do love him, so it's okay."

"But what if I love someone else?"

"Then I'd say you are probably making excuses."

"I think I have loved the other person longer though."

"And do they know that you love them?"

"No. It is not requited." She looked at him with eyes full of sorrow.

"It's a bit late to be having these thoughts now, Ziva." He looked over her head at the photo of the team that sat on the coffee table in front of them. They looked happy. They all had their arms around each-others' shoulders and they were happy. Everyone was looking at the camera but him, and his eyes were trained on her face. He remembered the moment that it was taken, remembered how light he felt, like he would float away if he didn't keep his arms around her and McGee to anchor him to the ground. He hadn't felt like that since she had introduced him to Thomas. The closest he ever got was when she was curled up next to him, a film playing in the background and Thomas forgotten. Or at least, almost forgotten. She would still have the ring on her finger. He looked down at her hand and frowned, picking it up. He tapped her finger and raised his eyebrows. "Where is it?"

"Lost it."

"Liar. Where's the ring?" She looked down and stuck a hand in her pocket, pulling out a small ring and holding it up. "Why aren't you wearing it?"

"Because I do not want to marry him."

"Then why did you say yes when he asked you?!" He snapped, standing up.

"I…I…"

He shook his head and scoffed. "I'm going to bed." He stormed out, slamming his bedroom door and leaving her alone on his couch.

He straitened his tie as he stood in the hotel, watching the doors and waiting for her to walk through. She'd been gone when he had woken, but he knew she had slept on his sofa. The blanket that she frequently covered herself with when she stayed the night was left folded neatly on the floor next to the coffee table, not in the linen closet where it normally lived. So he'd dressed in silence, preparing himself for the battle to come.

He felt like he was at a funeral, not a wedding. McGee elbowed him in the gut. "Smile!" The younger agent hissed.

"McGee…"

"I know. But she's happy. The least you can do is try and be happy for her."

"But what if she's not happy? What if she doesn't love him?" He kept his voice low so the other guests would not hear him over the soft music that was playing.

"Tony…" McGee sighed and shook his head. "We wouldn't be here today if she didn't love him."

"But what if…"

"Tony, stop it. If you continue to torture yourself like this you'll never be able to move on. She loves someone else. You need to accept that."

"No offence, McGee, but you've never had to watch the woman you love marry another man." Tony growled.

"Hey, the pair of you, pack it in!" Ducky whispered, joining the quiet conversation. "This is Ziva's day, so stop bickering. Tony, if you can't control yourself, you can't stay here."

Tony turned back to face the front of the room where the groom stood, growling quietly and grumbling about how unfair it was. "Do you think he's better in bed than me?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you." Tim shook his head, just as the doors opened. A sea of heads turned and Tony craned his neck so he could see over everyone else.

She was beautiful. Her dark curls tumbled down her back, contrasting with the white lace of her dress and the blue and white cornflowers tangled in the gentle locks. Her arm was wrapped around Gibbs' as though he was supporting her whole weight, but she wore a soft smile, one that had been missing the previous night. He watched as she searched the gathering before finding his face. Her smile broadened and she nodded subtly. He returned the gesture, trying to fight the tightening in his chest and the lump in his throat. He wanted to curl up and cry. He didn't want to have to watch. But she was his best friend, and he was going to be happy for her – externally, at least. Internally, he was shattering, splintering into thousands of pieces. He looked up to the ceiling, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall from tumbling freely down his cheeks.

She frowned at Tony as he sat miserably at the bar. "Hey, you okay?"

"I am worried about him."

"It's our wedding day. You're not supposed to be worried about him."

"He is my partner and my best friend. If I think he needs worrying over, I will worry about him." She snapped at Thomas.

"Ziva…"

She sighed and rested her forehead on his chest. "Sorry. You are right." She wrapped her arms around her husband's torso. "I love you."

"I'm glad. I love you, too." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"I am just going to…"

He snagged her forearm as she started to move away from him. "Leave him, Ziva. If he cannot be happy for you then he is not a very supportive friend, is he?"

"I think he is lonely." She stared over at her best friend, watching as he ordered another glassful of whatever liquor he was drinking.

"Well, there are plenty of unattached women here who would happily spend the night with him." Her husband said, nonchalantly.

"Why do you not like him?" She frowned. There had always been tension between the two men, and she had never understood it.

"I don't like the way he looks at you, the way he always has to be near you."

"He is just being a big brother. He has my six, just like I have his. We only trust each other, Gibbs and McGee to have our backs. And now I trust you, too." She smiled and pressed her lips to his.

He wanted to say that big brothers don't stare at their sisters like Tony stared at Ziva, but he wasn't wanting to fight on his wedding day. And he certainly was not going to let on that he was jealous of the fact that Tony got to work next to her every day. But she was his wife, and that was all that mattered. He had won, not Tony. He was the one who got to wake up next to her every morning and go to bed with her every night. The veiled threats he had warned Tony away with had not had their desired effect, but now they were married, he knew that Tony would distance himself from her. Even a blind man could see that the way Tony looked at Ziva was love. But he loved her too, and he had had the courage to ask her to dinner, and then to ask her to move in, and then to marry him. He was the successful one.

He slouched over the bar, staring into the amber liquid that swirled in the bottom of his glass, glowing under the dim light of the hall. His bowtie hung undone around his neck and his top button was undone.

"Everybody else is having fun. You are over here on your own, looking miserable." A familiar voice said as she sat down on the barstool next to him. "Even Gibbs is dancing."

"I'm fine, Ziva." He shrugged.

"No, you are not." She shook her head when the bartender moved to refill Tony's glass again. "He has had enough."

"Not hardly, Ziva. Another." He directed the last word to the bartender.

"No. Do not make us argue on my wedding day, Tony. Please?" He sighed and pushed the glass away. "Come. Take a walk with me."

"Oh, I don't think that's…"

"Just a walk, Tony. For me, please? I need to get out of here, it is too loud." He looked up at her and smiled knowing that she was lying for his benefit and being grateful for that, slipping off the barstool and grabbing his dinner jacket from where he had tossed it on a nearby chair. They walked slowly towards the tall French windows that opened out onto the patio, keeping to the shadows of the edge of the dance hall to avoid being unnecessarily stopped by someone wanting to talk to Ziva, or congratulate her. They walked in silence, keeping a small amount of distance between them in a mutual agreement as they slipped unnoticed out of the doors. Tea lights cast a golden glow around the patio and lined the jetty that jutted out into the water of the lake. The small candles also outlined the pathway around the lake. When they reached the edge of the patio she stepped out of her heels and he picked them up like a gentleman, hooking them over his fingers to carry them.

"It's beautiful here." He said, looking at her. She knew he was saying she was beautiful, and he knew that she knew. But it wasn't something either of them could acknowledge – she was married now, she was another man's wife, the feelings he had for her had to go now.

"Thomas chose it."

"I know. He has good taste." Their gazes met and they both momentarily stopped in their walk around the lake, trapped in a staring contest that neither wanted to break and ruin the small moment. But they both knew the moment was not allowed anymore. Ziva blushed and looked away, continuing barefoot on the soft grass. They made their way around the lake back to the patio and jetty, which they walked down, edging closer together so their hands brushed. The music floated out of the doors and Tony snorted. "The Partridge Family. August 22nd 1970." She frowned at him. "It was a sitcom. The song, it was recorded by them. David Cassidy singing." As I Think I Love You surrounded them quietly he took her hand, twirling her under his arm and catching her, placing his other hand on her hip. "Last night…"

"Tony, I was wrong to have come to you and…" She shook her head. "You were right. I was only nervous." She couldn't look up at him, only at his chest where the hand that wasn't clasped in his large, warm one was playing with one of the buttons on his white shirt.

"Of course I was right. I'm always right." He joked, trying to lighten the dark mood. In reality he felt his heart breaking all over again. He had hoped that it wouldn't just be nerves, that she really didn't want to go through with the wedding because, maybe, she had realised her true feelings towards him. However, for that to be the case she would have to have feelings towards him that went deeper than friendship, and she didn't. He knew she didn't because she had married the guy.

"I love him, Tony. I am happy."

"I know. I see it." He looked up at the moon and the stars as they gently swayed to the music, trying to block the tears that were fighting to escape.

"You are still my best friend. You know that, yes? You will always be my best friend."

"I know that." He smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers trail down her jawbone and wrap around her chin so he could look into her eyes. He sighed sadly. "You'll always be my best friend, too."

"That sounds like a goodbye." Tears brimmed her eyes. "I will see you on Monday morning."

"Yeah, but will you still be you?"

She chuckled quietly. "I will always be me. And you will always be you. And Gibbs will always drink coffee and Abby will always wear black. Nothing will change."

"Things already have changed." He sighed, removing his hands from her waist and backing away. "Congratulations, for everything. Um, I think…I think I'm gonna head home, because I'm feeling tired and I've had a lot to drink and I don't want to ruin your day any more than I already have."

"Tony, wait…you did not…you have not ruined my day." Her voice fell on empty air as he retreated into the dark, turning his back on her.

For my reference: 40th NCIS fic.