A/N: Surprise! I decided I couldn't wait until Friday morning so here we are, 10 hours early, with the very first chapter of Six Months Home. Welcome Back to all who have joined me through After Somalia, Two Weeks Later and Three Months Alive. To all of you and all who are new (this will make more sense if you' read the others first), welcome and thanks for coming. I hope you enjoy! Love, ~Aliyah
*Present Day*
Tony opened his eyes on a Monday morning in the first week of March and smiled despite the early hour. Folding his arms under his head, he stared at the ceiling and thought about the last month and a half.
Marlene had put his offer in on the house bright and early Monday morning, two days after their tour. The owner asked for twenty-four hours to consider it and Tuesday night the realtor called her client with good news. Wednesday Tony signed the papers and Thursday Ziva voted to skip Movie Night in favour of helping him start packing, knowing he'd want to move in as soon as possible. She was on a mission and spent the whole weekend meticulously labeling boxes and clearing out each room of his apartment one at a time.
Tony hired a moving company to make things easier, not wanting to put his friends out. He got the keys late Friday afternoon and the following Monday after work, the movers had everything he owned unloaded and placed in the appropriate rooms under Ziva's direction and Tony's agreement less than three hours later.
Ziva took one look at the mess once they left and promptly called Abby and McGee. Between the four of them and even with Abby's extreme excitement about his new place, they managed to get the basics unpacked. Over the next few days, Abby and Ziva took great delight in ordering around him and Tim and by Friday, Tony was as settled as he could be without buying more furniture to fit in all the empty spaces.
In celebration of him being fully moved in, Abby declared a team night and no one had any argument. They ordered pizza and all four piled onto the couch for a well deserved break, with the company of the recent remake of Journey to the Center of the Earth, one of the first DVDs Tony could put his hands on until his collection was unpacked. It wasn't until Tuesday night after work that Tony put his next plan into action.
NCIS
*Flashback - February 2009*
Ziva walked in the front door of Tony's house on the second Tuesday in February, a week and a half after he'd gotten possession of it and only two days after he'd finished moving in. Her partner was sitting on the livingroom couch, head in his hands. Concerned, she went over and sat on the coffee table in front of him.
"Tony?" she asked.
He looked up at her, despair etched on his features. "I can't do it Zi."
Puzzled, Ziva raised an eyebrow. "Cannot do what?"
Standing up, Tony began pacing between the livingroom and kitchen areas in the open concept first floor. "I can't decorate this place! Look at my apartment? Did I know anything about how to make it look put together or feel homey?" He frowned and looked around the space. "This is my house Ziva, but I want it to look like a home. I just have no idea where to start." Tony shoved his hands in his pockets. "Maybe I should get some magazines or something," he muttered.
Ziva bit her lip, trying to conceal her amusement at Tony's dilemma. She never would've thought he'd get upset about something as simple as decorating, but the house was a big deal for Tony, one of his first real grown-up decisions, so she understood.
"Perhaps I can help," she offered. Even after so many years, Ziva still remembered the simple, beautiful touches her mother had brought to her childhood home. Her taste was similar, and she was certain she could handle the basics.
Tony spun towards with a light in his eyes. "Would you Ziva? That would be so great. I'll give you my credit card and you can seriously go nuts. Do whatever you like." He shrugged. "I've always thought your place looked great once you got everything, I'm sure I'll love whatever you can do here."
She smiled and shook her head. "We could start today." Seeing how excited Tony was, Ziva knew it was the right choice.
At Tony's insistence, Ziva did whatever she thought was necessary. A painting crew was hired and after Tony approved her colour choices with barely a glance, confirming in some strange way how much he trusted her, they were put to work for the entire next week, bringing warmth and style to the mostly empty house. She didn't discover until later that he'd changed the colour of one of the spare rooms to be yellow, with no explanation. But Ziva didn't say anything because it was his house and that was his choice. Plus, she'd always liked how yellow walls brightened up a room.
Having already decided that she liked the lighting fixtures and some of the other details that had been there when he moved in, Ziva turned her attention to decorating. She dragged Tony along with her to purchase paintings and prints for his walls, lamps, rugs and other small things.
With an idea in mind and holding on to Tony's promise that she could do whatever she thought the place needed, Ziva commissioned a man she'd heard of to build a special entertainment center for the livingroom. She didn't tell her partner about it and it was with great delight that, on their last movie night of the month, they walked in the door the find that it had been delivered and set up as per her instructions.
Tony was thrilled with the massive amount of space he now had for his DVDs - the center took up almost the entire wall, stopping at the window on the far left side of the room - and Ziva spent the evening helping him organize his collection. It fit, with space leftover. She added a couple of ornamental touches on top and in a few of the square cubbyholes. Drawers in the bottom provided storage for manuals, remotes, and extra cords that Tony decided to let McGee figure out what they were for.
The following weekend they did their last shopping trip to purchase new furniture for the livingroom. After standing back and surveying everything, Tony declared that his old stuff looked out of place in the new house. Ziva accepted his decision with a nod and added that to her list.
Upstairs, both of the guest rooms stood empty and though Ziva had tried to encourage Tony to turn at least one into an office or maybe even a storage room, he steadfastly ignored all her suggestions. After awhile she gave up, figuring that it was his house and if he wanted empty rooms, he could have them.
By the time the second week of March rolled around, Tony had a beautiful home. "It's all thanks to you Ziva," he told her, taking his twelfth tour and marveling at the minor miracle she'd managed in a month. "You have no idea what this means to me, thank you."
Tempted to put off his praise, Ziva changed her mind when she saw the seriousness in his eyes. She dipped her head. "You are welcome."
Glancing at his watch, Tony grinned. "So...want to help me cook a real meal in this place?"
They'd lived off takeout and leftovers while they worked. Ziva had been forced to make many additions to Tony's kitchen supplies, but now the space was completely stocked to her satisfaction and she'd only been waiting for an invitation. "Alright," she agreed. "Let me guess, spaghetti?" It was Tony's go-to comfort food, second only to pizza.
He winked. "You read my mind."
As she followed him, Ziva looked around, not able to see any place that did not hold her touch. In a house that was not hers, it was slightly unnerving. Thinking back to what her partner had said, Ziva wondered if the ability to read his mind might put both of their hearts in danger, or give them exactly what they had needed for so long.
NCIS
*Present Day*
It wasn't so much the progress his house had made over the last month that was most exciting for Tony. Instead what made the biggest impact was the way things had changed for him and Ziva. Somewhere in the course of the last several weeks, Ziva had stopped fighting him.
There had been no one moment, no announcement or honest talk. But somehow, for some reason he didn't know yet, Ziva had accepted him into a special place in her life and her heart. Tony wasn't yet privy to all her secrets, she hadn't confided to him any more about Somalia, and still everything was different.
They had gone from friends and partners to something more that hadn't been labeled for fear of messing it up. It was as if both had come to a silent acceptance of being together without actually making anything official. Tony felt the freedom to let a little more of the love he had for Ziva show in his eyes when he looked at her, and Ziva smiled more and was slowly, very slowly, letting herself be happy with him. That brought Tony more joy than anything else.
Suddenly Tony couldn't stay in bed any longer. Today was special, though he doubted anyone else was keeping track like he was. Six months ago today they had rescued Ziva from Somalia. And because she was home and safe, he wanted to celebrate.
NCIS
In the end he had to settle for a cupcake with a single candle and a whispered, "I'm so glad you're home Zi," because they got too busy to do more. Her expression softened in the most endearing way when Tony explained why they were celebrating, but the reminder also brought the shadows back, so he knew she'd be going to Ops tonight.
Whenever thoughts of Africa overwhelmed her, Ziva needed to be at the gym, to prove something to herself. So Tony retreated to his desk and spent the rest of their lunch break looking at his new favourite ad in the newspaper, while Ziva slowly broke chunks off her cupcake and ate it in-between phone calls and updates.
Tony read the words of the ad again, thinking about how he'd come across it so accidentally the previous Friday afternoon. When he'd seen the notice advertising the sale of a gently used baby grand piano, he nearly passed it over. Then a long ago conversation with his partner popped into his head and he'd turned the page back, reading over each word very carefully.
After work Monday night while Ziva was beating the memories into submission at the gym, Tony took a trip to the other end of the city and met a lovely lady named Grace McPherson. She was a white haired woman who quickly made him feel as if they were old friends.
She loved her piano. In fact, it had been a fiftieth wedding anniversary present from her husband Thomas. But with her arthritis getting worse Grace could no longer play and though it saddened her heart, she had finally decided to sell it. "I wanted someone else to get the same joy out of it that I have." She smiled at him, looking straight into his eyes. "What would you do with it, young man?"
Inspiration lit his expression and Tony accepted her offer of a seat on the couch. "Well ma'am, I have this friend."
By the time the conversation was over, Tony was the proud owner of a beautiful black baby grand piano. Grace sent him on his way with her card and an offer to come back any time. Once he made a phone call, he let his new friend know that the moving company would be over to pick the piano up on Wednesday. She agreed and Tony went home, excited to see Ziva's reaction at their usual Thursday evening Movie Night and dinner.
NCIS
"So Ziva," Devon smiled brightly Tuesday morning, "it's been six months since you came home. How do you feel?"
The Israeli's expression was solemn. "Six months and still the scars have not faded."
Devon's brow wrinkled. "It will take time for that Ziva. Surely you didn't expect..."
Her patient shook her head. "I do not mean the marks on my body Devon," she explained, "I doubt they will ever go away." Ziva touched her forehead gently. "I was talking about the scars my mind bears."
Devon's eyes softened. "They have faded considerably since October Ziva, and we will keep working on that. It's why you're here, remember?"
Ziva sighed. "I thought it would be different."
"How so?" the therapist questioned, anxious to know what was really going through the other woman's head.
She shrugged. "I guess I just thought one day it would all be over and everything would be back to normal."
Devon's expression bore only a hint of a smile. "If it was that easy, I wouldn't have a job." Seconds of silence ticked by before she started to offer the reprieve of another subject, but it looked like Ziva had something on her mind. "What are you thinking about?" she inquired softly.
Ziva's head jerked towards her voice. "Pardon?"
"You look like you're deep in though. Can you tell me?"
Sighing, Ziva laid her hand on her swollen abdomen. "I am not sure I can do this by myself, raise this baby." She looked out the window. "I am even beginning to wonder whether it is wise to keep a child born of abuse." Ziva met Devon's eyes. "Is it fair to either of us?"
Talk about a heavy question! To be honest though, Devon had been expecting this topic to come up for weeks and she had the information she needed to reassure her patient. "Ziva, I've done some research about this. From what I found, many women who conceived as a result of being raped and kept their children had no problem loving them. There are phrases being tossed around that include, 'My baby was something wonderful that came out of something horrible', 'I love my child beyond reason', 'The baby is still part of me,' 'The child is much loved by our whole family'."
Ziva still didn't look convinced so Devon continued. "There are of course just as many stories of people who chose not to go through with the pregnancy at all, or who gave up their child for adoption into a loving family. But Ziva, you stayed pregnant with this baby and you have a loving family around you. They will love the baby simply because he or she is a part of you. I think you will never be alone in this. At this stage, I believe it would hurt you worse to give up this child, since your first choice after Ducky told you was to declare that you were keeping him or her."
Her shoulders fell and Ziva nodded slowly. "I know," she said in a barely audible voice, "but it is still hard to think about what happens after this."
Choosing to let the woman think about what she'd heard, Devon moved onto another regularly talked about subject. "How are things with you and Tony?"
Ziva's smile returned and the change in her eyes was instantaneous, from gloomy to joyful. "We are good. This...whatever it is we are doing...it is nice."
Dr. Andrews nodded. "So you guys still haven't clarified your relationship?"
The dark haired woman shook her head. "No, not yet. But I think we will have to talk soon, to decide what we want."
"It's kind of obvious," the doctor put in.
Ziva frowned. "What is?"
Devon rolled her eyes. "Ziva, you love him. You've known since the middle of January almost two months ago," she reminded the agent. "It's clear that Tony loves you, he probably has since the beginning. You two are acting like you're married already." Devon pinned her patient with a look. "What are you waiting for?"
Ziva's belly jiggled and she rubbed the top lightly. Hiccups had been hard to get used to because she felt like she had them too, even if it was only the baby. "I do not know," she finally admitted softly. "Tony and I, we have never been very good at being honest about our feelings."
Dr. Andrews set her hand on Ziva's knee, pleased to see she did not react in the slightest. She truly had begun to heal. "Maybe it's finally time to start."
Ziva nodded vaguely. "Yes," she said, almost to herself, "maybe."
NCIS
Tony's partner followed him home after work Thursday night for movie night, and once they'd hurried up the front porch steps to escape the rain, he turned to her. "Close your eyes Ziva."
She looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"
He rolled his eyes. "I have a surprise for you."
Frowning, Ziva did as he asked but jumped away as soon as his hands came up to cover the top part of her face. Taking in the fear that was still so instinctive, Tony took a step back to make himself look less threatening. "What was that?"
Ziva clenched and flexed her fingers a few times. "I do not like...having my eyes covered." Memories of bags and blindfolds, of blows she couldn't brace herself for because she was unable to see them coming, of forced darkness even when it was light out that failed to protect her from their attacks, made her swallow hard and look away.
The anticipation faded out of Tony's posture and he leaned back against one of the supporting beams of the porch. "I'm sorry Ziva, I should've known." He scrutinized her expression. "That day wasn't the first time they used the bag, was it?"
He so often went back to that room without warning and Ziva took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She shook her head minutely. "No."
"Okay." Tony looked like he was trying to figure something out. Finally he held her gaze. "Ziva, will you close your eyes, please?" Sensing somehow that this time would be different, Ziva let her eyelids slide closed. "Hold out your hands." Tony's voice was closer than it had been and she could feel when his body moved in front of hers. As asked, she held out her hands, palm up.
There was a smile in his voice this time. "I'm going to lead you into the house. It's okay, trust me." His large, rougher hands curled her fingers around his and tugged her forward. "Step up," he instructed, and Ziva did. She'd been in his house enough times to know the height she needed to lift her foot.
Once inside she heard Tony close the door. "Don't open your eyes yet, okay?" She nodded, curious now, not afraid. "Can I hang your coat up?" Appreciating how he was announcing every move, Ziva undid the tie that ran over top of her seven and a half month baby bump, and felt Tony's hands reach for it, helping her to get it off.
Her boots were next, slip on ones because bending over had recently become an impossibility. Finally they were ready. "Hands," he asked again, and Ziva let him grasp her wrists as he guided her across the livingroom. Having been responsible for decor, she knew precisely where they were in the room when they stopped moving. It was the far left corner, an empty space like an alcove that had bothered her because she couldn't figure out the right thing to fill it.
Tony moved behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, the only thing he'd done without asking first. But this kind of touch had become so normal now that she didn't mind. "Okay." She could sense the excitement coming off of him. "Open your eyes."
She did and gasped in delight at the beautiful piano sitting in front of her. Taking a step forward, she reverently stroked the sleek black wood and ran her fingers over the spotless white keys. "Tony," she breathed, "you bought a piano." It seemed like too obvious a thing to say, but Tony understood her confusion.
"It's for you," the words slipped out and he hurried to cover the mistake, "for both of us, I mean." She glanced at him and he shrugged. "I thought maybe I'd take you up on those lessons."
After a moment remembrance filled her gaze and Ziva nodded slowly. "Good."
They took a seat on the bench together, her facing the piano and Tony sitting sideways to watch her. She set her left hand on the keys and he slowly placed his hand overtop, covering hers. Ziva looked at him with eyes that saw straight to his soul.
"Tony, you have changed so much."
He took her hand. "Because of you."
She tilted her head to the side. "I do not understand."
Tony tucked a curl behind her ear. "When I thought I'd lost you, I was forced to admit how much I'd taken things in my life for granted - my friends, my family, my partner." He touched her cheek gently. "And I didn't want to be that guy anymore."
"You are not," Ziva told him seriously. "Sometimes I do not even recognize the man you have become as the same person who was my partner for all those years."
"Is that a good thing?" he asked uncertainly.
"I think you always had it in you to be the man you are now. I saw glimpses of it before Somalia. I meant it when I said you are a good person. But since Somalia I have only seen that side of you." She glanced down at their tangled fingers. "I did not know you could care so much."
"I didn't know either," Tony admitted. "But when I saw you again, when that bag came off your head, I realized I didn't want to waste any more time. If you were alive and coming home, I was going to make sure to be the kind of guy who might one day be worthy of you."
She leaned forward and slid her arms around his waist. "You are," Ziva whispered, hoping someday she'd be able to stop believing the lies. Maybe it was okay for her to be happy after all.
Tony cradled her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. If any time had been right for him to say 'I love you', it was now. But somehow, after all the months of wishing for this moment, the words caught in his throat and he couldn't force them past his lips. So Tony just held her tighter and thought of the little box upstairs in his sock drawer. Maybe it was finally time.