Merry Christmas Al!!! Hopefully this makes up for me only ordering you present on Tuesday.... This is the only Christmas present i've written that i actually think is ok this year, and that's probably because i wrote it a couple of weeks ago. Instead of yesterday...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Holding on

She'd just started to relax, she had changed out of work clothes, and with a much anticipated glass of wine in her hand had curled up on her couch in front of some 'classic' Christmas movie when she heard the knock at the door.

Rolling her eyes, she dragged herself off her very comfortable couch, and put her wine down on the table opposite, whoever it was knocked again and, frustrated, quickly she walked to the door and opened it. Beaming back at her, was Tony. Well, she should have seen that one coming. Rolling her eyes for the second time, she asked "What do you want Tony?"

"Can one friend not have drinks with another? Where's your festive spirit, eh?" He said, his smile irritating her no end, "Nice outfit," he added. She scowled at him, remembering she was just in a pair of casual, but very small shorts and a skimpy top, her hair was damp because she'd just showered and she had been looking forward to a nice, quiet Christmas eve. She also knew there was no way in hell that she could bring herself to turn him away.

"Come in," she said, sighing and pretending to resign herself to the fact she was stuck with her partner on Christmas eve.

"So, what are your Christmas plans Tony?"

"Ahh, nothing special really, I could see my dad," he shrugged, she smiled a little, bitterly, she couldn't remember the last time she had spent Christmas with her father, even when she was a girl – when she had wanted to. "You?" he asked, locking eyes with her.

Her answer stuck in her throat, "I do not have anyone to see," she managed to get out quickly.

He didn't reply to that, just watched her, a little concerned. "Sit down," she said finally after an awkward silence, "Would you like a drink?" She said, gesturing at the wine.

"Yeah thanks," he said, sitting down turning round to watch her walk away.

"You can stop staring Tony," she called, without turning round. He smiled, and turned back looking around at the few photo's Ziva had around her apartment. She came back, and he pointed to a photo that was just lying on the couch opposite, "Is that Jenny?"

"Yes," she said quietly,

"When was it taken?"

"A very long time ago," she said softly, her eyes glazing over, as she no doubt remembered back to the time when the photo was taken.

He looked at her, her hair hanging loosely, slowly drying, bitter tears building up in her eyes as she stared at the photo and remembered. Yet she still looked so damn beautiful. He never could have imagined that he would be so lucky as to meet someone like her, she was so special and she didn't realize it. No one deserved what she had been through, least of all her. And it made his heart break to see her like this, acting like she was defeated, like she was broken.

"Zee,"

"What?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from the photo to look at him. The emotion in them shocking her, and she found his eyes piercing hers, she was barely able to breathe. It wasn't possible to feel this much emotion again, it was like her heart was being kick started back into action after Somalia, when she had switched it off.

"What's wrong?" He asked, gently brushing a stray hair away from her face, feeling the electricity flow between as his skin briefly touched hers. God he had missed that feeling when she was away, along with every other thing that made him love her so much.

"Nothing," she said, her voice trembling. She hated him; she hated how he was the only one who could reduce her to this kind of state.

"I know you know I can read you better than that," He said whilst shifting that little bit closer to her.

"It is Christmas Eve Tony; I do not want to ruin your Christmas." She said, holding back more tears.

"Why would you ruin it?" he asked a puzzled look on his face.

"I just, I don't want to talk about this."

"Talk about what?" he asked, pushing her, "What is this?"

She was really struggling; she was a nervous wreck, and mentally screaming at herself for it. This was not fair. This was not her.

"You know what it is Tony,"

"No, I don't because you refuse to talk about it. I can presume its Somalia, but I don't know, because you won't talk to me." He said his voice slightly bitter, hurt flashing in his eyes.

"Maybe because that is because I do not want to talk."

"Well you have to at some point! Just because, you, you lock things away, you refuse to let anyone in! I want to help you, I'm trying, but you just push everyone away." He said, raising his voice. She flinched away, and with shock he realized what he'd done. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry," he repeated, surprising her by gently wrapping his arms around her. He knew he was crossing a line, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered in that moment except for her. She was soft and warm, and felt so good in his arms, he breathed her in, revelling in the moment, and drew his arms more tightly around her, still whispering "I'm sorry," at random intervals.

"I know, I know," she replied softly, whispering into his chest as he buried his head into his hair, until it almost seemed like she was the one consoling him. "It was so hard without you," he told her, voice thick with emotion. She nodded against him, tears spilling over. "I can't believe I have you back," he continued , almost subconsciously pulling her closer, trying to convince himself that she was really there.

"When I saw you there," she said in barely a whisper, "When I saw you... I thought you were dead, and that it was my fault. It would be my fault, if, if he killed you," she said shaking.

He nodded, understanding the horrified look in her precious eyes as she saw who was there. The heartbreak, which had been slowly followed by a sinking, deadened look, in her once sparkling eyes. She had been so full of life.

"I hate him," he said, softly brushing her hair away from her tear streaked face, "I hate him so much for what he did to you. Him being dead, it's not enough."

"It will never be enough," she whispered curling into his warm chest, "But I am here now," her hand wandered up to his shoulder, holding onto him like he was her only lifeline.

"I thought you were dead," he said, breaking down. It was Christmas eve, and only now were they forcing each other to really feel, confront the powerful emotions that had been drowning them over the summer. "You don't know what it was like,"

"Yes," she said quietly, looking up at him, "Yes I do, not for as long, but, when your car exploded," she shivered at the memory, and he drew her in a little tighter. "It was not a whole summer, but it felt like forever." She trembled.

They were both silent, reflecting on the conversation they had just had.

"I love you," Tony said, playing with her damp hair gently, "I meant what I said, in Somalia, I was serious, I just, I can't live without you Zee,"

A soft gasp escaped her lips, and the tears came thick and fast, her heart was being overloaded with emotions and all the things that had been left unsaid for so long, left alone, were flooding back. Shaking slightly, she asked, "Why does it hurt this much?"

Gazing at her, pain mingled with love in his eyes, "Because if we hadn't left it so long, you wouldn't have been through half as much." He answered simply, "If I had just, said it, earlier, before any of this, Somalia wouldn't have happened; your father wouldn't have had as big a chance to hurt you. Saleem, you wouldn't have been through that kind of hell," he said angrily, still not letting go of her.

"It was not your fault Tony,"

"If we hadn't been arguing, because I was jealous of Rivkin," she winced a little at his name, "You would never have stayed in Israel, there would never have been a reason to go."

"It is not your fault, you are here now, I should have trusted you, because it has turned out that you were the only who was worth trusting."

He didn't want to talk anymore, talking hurt too much. He looked down at her, despite what she had been through, she was still just as beautiful, softly, lovingly, he brushed his lips on hers. The kiss deepened as years of tension, years of one not having the other built up. It was like magic, like realising a dream you always thought would be out of reach forever, and treasuring every moment of your deepest desire.

"Tony," she said, as they broke apart for air, her eyes shimmering and round with tears, "I have loved you for a very long time," her voice cracked, and he wrapped his arms around her. Emotions cascading into them both, they were trying to process the importance of what had just happened.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, his hand resting gently on her wet cheek.

She rested her head against his chest again, and snaked her arms around him. Very suddenly, she was exhausted, drained. She relaxed, enjoying the feel of being so close to him but her eyelids felt heavy, she was struggling to keep them open. She wanted to stay awake, to hear Tony whisper her name again and again, but she was mentally and emotionally drained, she just needed to close her eyes, and drift away... Listening to the steady beat of his heart reassured her, as she drifted into a dreamless sleep for the first time in months.

He listened to her even breathing, and realized that she had fallen asleep. He looked down at her, her eyes closed, her dark curls splayed across her face, her lips parted slightly. She was back. She was back, and she was his. Smoothing back her hair he allowed a tear to roll down his cheek, crying for everything that she had been through in the last few months. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, in case she disappeared. His eyes roamed all over her, her small top had ridden up and she was baring a couple of inches of her bare back, and he couldn't take her eyes off that spot. Long white scarring tainted her otherwise perfect skin. A wave of nausea washed over him, he could feel the anger building up, and more tears pricked at his eyes. She was right, Saleem being dead, it would never be enough. For either of them. He traced the scars across her back lightly, still crying. Praying, wishing he had been there to take some of the pain for her, ease her suffering.

She stirred slightly, and it took every effort for him to snatch his hand away. He flashed back to the three of them, in Somalia. The absolute terror he had felt when Saleem had held the knife to her throat, when she had tried to bargain with him to kill her but let them go. The look of complete shock, disbelief on her face as Saleem's body fell to the ground, a single shot to the head. Some things will haunt you forever. And that look, that look on her face when he'd been shot. He'd realized it later - she had never expected to get out of their alive. The reason she was so shocked, was because it meant she had to keep on living, no matter how painful that might be, because she didn't have an excuse anymore. Even here, safe and back home, his heart jumps a little every time he thinks about that day. But she was here now, safe in his arms. In his arms. Finally.

Eventually, she stirred, but he was still not asleep. She turned to him, looked him in the eye and her heart leaped again.

"Hey sleeping beauty," he joked, trailing his fingers along her jaw line. "Merry Christmas," he said, glancing at the clock.

She followed his gaze, it read 12:05. She smiled, and for the first time in months, she felt truly happy. "Merry Christmas,"

He leant in, and kissed her. "That's your Christmas present," he teased.

"I want all of you," she said, shooting him one of those looks that sent a shiver down his spine.

"You have all of me,"

"Good" she said, smiling and kissing him again.

"I love you Ziva David," she smiled, and, he might have been mistaken, but he was pretty sure he saw her eyes sparkle, that way they always used to.

In that moment he knew, she was back, and she wasn't going anywhere.

Alicee???