His hands were big and warm. That was the first thing she thought when he took her hand in his. The way the warmth and sparks spread throughout It was not until his fingers were laced gently between hers that she realized with some amount of wonder, how natural it felt to touch him like that. Her small fingers fit between his larger ones perfectly, not too tight, not too loose, just perfect. As though they were meant to be there.

Her heart was in her throat. He had never been so honest with her, so open. It is time she thought. It was time to tell him…whatever came to her mind, or more accurately, to her heart. She looked over at him, a shy smile on her face, preparing to have what could be the most important conversation of her life.

"Tony,"

"Yeah?" he asked, turning to her with a small, almost hopeful smile on his face as well.

"I…wanted to thank you, for always having my back. For always being there for me, and for always…making me feel so loved." Though his eyes were on the road, she could see a smile blossoming on his face. She paused, "I know that at times our partnership has been…difficult, but you have always been there when I needed you, and you have always made me…happy when I thought no one could."

He squeezed her hand a little bit tighter, "I'm not going to lie to you sweet cheeks, it wasn't always easy, but I wouldn't change it for anything." he said, pressing a sweet kiss to her hand.

Her heart was beating fast as she smiled broadly at him. This was it. This was going to change everything. This was…fading away. Tony's smiling face was disappearing, replaced with a more ghastly image of him bloodied and unconscious.

She could feel a burning in her lungs and muffled pain almost everywhere, and there was a car horn blaring but she couldn't be sure why. She could smell acrid smoke and burning rubber and blood. Was there a bomb? She couldn't be sure. She heard her name as a desperate cry and a sudden, sharp jolt of pain.

She shot up in bed with a gasp, clenching her fist, quickly noting that Tony's fingers were no longer laced between hers. She felt around frantically, trying to find her partner's hand.

"Tony," she shouted.

It was then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Ducky.

"Where is Tony?" she asked, frantically.

"My dear, you must calm down."

"Where is Tony?" she asked more adamantly.

"He is in a different room, my dear. He is yet to wake."

"I need to see him."

"You cannot, I'm afraid. They do not want either of you leaving your rooms just yet."

"Ducky. I must see him." She said, insistently.

"I understand, and I will see what I can do, but first you must tell me what you remember."

"I…I do not know. Please can I see him?"

"Ziva, it is imperative that you tell me anything you can remember. I will see what I can do after you promise you will tell me what you know."

"I promise, but I do not know…"

"Try to relax. I know it will be unpleasant, but please try the best you can," he said as he raised the bed so Ziva could sit up comfortably.

She allowed herself to sit back and think back to the events still jumbled in her head.

"Tony,"

"Yeah?"

She saw his eyes widen in shock and fear, her name a desperate cry from his lips. A split second later, he dove towards her in the cabin, pulling her down towards him, their hands still connected. The jolt of impact shocked her entire being, her body flailing around as the car was flung across the street. Tony held tight to her body as long as he could, trying his best to protect her from harm.

As the car jolted to a stop, she could feel herself being thrown back into her seat, her hand becoming dislodged from Tony's. She wanted to ask him if he was alright. She wanted nothing more than to hold his hand once again, but she could not. She couldn't force her body to move. She took a breath, feeling Tony's fingers brush against her hand, and tears came to her eyes, knowing that he was trying to get to her, too.

She fought against the pain to stay awake, to stay conscious, but the car horn was so loud, and the throbbing pain in her shoulder was too much, and her lungs were on fire. Though she was looking at Tony, wishing hoping, prayingto see any sign of life, she registered movement on her other side. She turned her head in time to see a man reaching into the cabin through the now shattered window, looking around for just a second before reaching down and scooping up the little black bag of diamonds that lay at Ziva's feet.

"Did you really think you could outsmart him, bitch?" he said, menacingly.

She was powerless to do anything as he back handed her roughly, pushing her into unconsciousness.

Ducky looked at her, concerned.

"I remember. It was Ilan. One of his…associates…hit us so he could take the diamonds back."

"That bastard," he said angrily.

"Please, can I see him?"

"My dear, if you will excuse me for a moment, I will call your doctor to speak with you, and I must call Jethro."

"Yes, of course." she said, trying and failing to hold back the tears she could vaguely feel streaking down her face.

As soon as Ducky left the room, Ziva was struggling to get out of bed. One of her arms was in a sling, clearly dislocated at one point, and she could feel stitches up and down her right side. Her normally agile body was aching and sluggish. She got as far as touching her feet to the floor when the doctor entered.

"Agent David!" she cried in surprise "You shouldn't be out of bed!"

Ziva shook her head. "It is exactly where I should be. I need to see Tony."

"I understand you want to see your partner, Agent David, but I must insist you stay in bed for the time being. You have a dislocated shoulder, fractured ribs and just under a hundred stitches." She said, trying her best to get Ziva back in bed.

"I do not care, I need to see him," Ziva said, growing hysterical.

"Agent David, please. You have to stay in bed."

"No! I need to see Tony! You cannot keep me here!" She cried, tears streaming down her face.

Hearing the commotion, a nurse rushed into the room, hoping to keep Ziva from pulling out her IV.

"Push 50mg of lorazepam," the doctor commanded as Ziva struggled against her hold.

As soon as the sedative entered her system, Ziva felt herself go slack as she surrendered to unconsciousness once again.

The next time Ziva woke, she felt much stiffer than the last time. It hurt her entire being to try to move anywhere, her neck especially. She opened her eyes, and immediately saw Gibbs standing vigil.

"Ziver. How you feeling?"

"Awful. How is Tony?"

"He hasn't woken up yet. He hit his head on the driver's side window."

Ziva swallowed visibly, tears coming to her eyes.

"The doctors say he should be fine, it's just taking a little longer for him to wake up than they thought."

"Why?" she asked

"They're not sure."

"Can I see him, please?"

"Yeah. I can bring you to him."

"Thank you," she said, her relief evident.

Gibbs placed Ziva carefully in a wheelchair and brought her down to see Tony, trying not to jostle her too much along the way. He could tell the entire event was playing with her emotions. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her so constantly close to tears the entire time he'd known her. As they entered Tony's room, Ducky looked up from the book he was reading, glad to see Ziva finally getting what she desired so much.

"How are you feeling, Ziva?" he asked.

"I am fine," she answered automatically, her eyes never leaving Tony's prone form.

"I'll give you some privacy. Coffee, Jethro?"

"Sure, Duck. Thanks," he said, showing no intentions to move from the room.

Ducky only nodded as he left, watching Gibbs settle into the corner of the room, and Ziva by Tony's bed.

Ziva took Tony's hand in hers gently, running her fingers over his knuckles, careful of the half moon of cuts her fingernails had made. Her ability to keep up her carefully crafted mask was weakened by pain killers, and once again, tears were making their way down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Tony." She kept his hand clasped firmly in hers, wishing they never had to let go in the first place.

"What happened?" Gibbs asked softly.

"What happened when?"

"In the car. Why didn't you see it before."

"I…was looking at him, and he was looking at me. He saw it just before it hit, but it was too late to do anything but hold on."

"Why was he looking at you?"

"We were talking."

"You do that a lot?" he asked

"Yes." If he meant taking a very small step forward in their relationship and almost talking about their feelings, then yes, they did that a lot. Too often, in fact, without the desired results.

"What are his injuries?" she asked, not entirely certain she wanted to know.

"Severe concussion, broken nose, fractured wrist. You two were lucky."

"Somehow I do not think Tony sees it that way," she said sadly, her eyes not leaving his face.

"When he wakes up and sees that you're alive, he will."

"I want to be here when he wakes up."

"You can't stay here in your chair, Ziva. You're hurt just as bad as he is."

"I am not the one who is still unconscious."

"I know," he said, coming forward and kissing her hair, "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," she said softly.

She sat by his bedside for over an hour before she started to nod off. Gibbs pried her away and brought her back to her room despite her protests. He thanked whatever power that was sort of keeping them safe that she didn't need to be sedated again to sleep.

When she woke again, she found Tony within an arm's reach. She didn't even want to know what kind of strings Gibbs had to pull to make it happen, but she was incredibly glad he did.

Tony woke up the next day with a start, surprised to see Ziva sitting up and holding his hand.

"Tony," she gasped in relief. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a truck. Oh wait…"

"You are not as funny as you think you are." she said, frowning slightly.

"I thought it was pretty good," he said through a pained smile.

"How are you really?"

"I kind of feel like I'm gonna puke," he said honestly.

"That would be the concussion."

"Oh. Do you have one of those?"

"Yes," she said calmly, "but not nearly as severe as yours."

This was not how she had imagined his first moments of consciousness. She had wanted them to be more...sweet? Romantic? She wasn't certain what she was truly going for, but she knew it was more than this.

"Well that's good. I'm glad you're in better shape than me."

"I'm not," she said.

"Not in better shape or..."

"Not glad I'm in better shape. If anyone should be more injured, it should be me."

"If that were the case, I would feel terrible for not doing my job properly."

"How many times must I tell you that it is not your job to protect me?"

"As many times as I have to tell you it is whether you like it or not. I've put myself in harm's way for you before, Ziva, and I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"I wish you wouldn't. I cannot allow you to sacrifice your life for the sake of mine. I do not deserve it."

"You say that, but I know for a fact it isn't true."

"Tony, the only reason we are in this mess in the first place is because I was set on revenge. I was the one that got you involved in this. This is my fault. You should not have to take on the consequences of my actions."

"You know that I wouldn't have gone with you if I didn't want to be there, Ziva. I wanted to be there. I wanted to be with you. I always want to be with you," he said, intertwining their fingers once again.

"Tony," she started "We cannot." She didn't need to elaborate.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean we cannot do this. We cannot...maybe this is fate telling us not to do this."

"Fate has had it out for us for years."

"And it has stopped us many times before. Why should we ignore it now?"

"Because it's different now. We're different."

She looked at him, despair and confusion written on her face.

"Just think about it, okay?" he said. If this wasn't a big enough catalyst to make them take the leap, he wasn't sure what was.

She nodded in solemn confirmation. They fell into silence, their fingers still intertwined.

"I am glad you are alright," she said after a while.

He squeezed her hand the best he could, "I'm glad my ninja is okay, too." Her only response was a sad smile.

Later that night though Tony had fallen asleep quite easily, Ziva was having much more difficulty. She could not stop looking at him, thanking every god that could hear her that he was alive. He lay there, still as can be, snoring much louder than usual, she supposed because of his broken nose, and though she should be relieved that despite the crash he wanted to be with her, she was shaken. He should not want her. He should not still be willing to put himself out there for her after all she had put him through. She flew them halfway across the world with only vengeance in her heart. Maybe if she had left it alone they would not have been hit, and he would not be injured. She was stupid, putting him at risk like that, not only because of her bloodlust, but because she had distracted him. She had taken his attention away from the task at hand, and he was in the hospital.

The guilt she felt was overwhelming, and she could think of only one thing to do to rectify it. She had to find the person responsible. She had to leave him behind, let go whatever it was they were thinking of starting. It was the only way to keep him safe from harm. Nearly every injury he had incurred in recent memory had been because of her. She could not allow more harm to befall him. She would have to tell him that she didn't want him, that she didn't feel the same way. The mere thought of rejecting him so brought tears to her eyes, because she knew in her heart despite her very best efforts, she would always be his.

The next night it was silent in the hospital room. The rest of the team had come and gone, and the hustle and bustle of hospital life had died away. The sound of whirring machines and the beeping of the heart monitor now absent since Tony had woken up. Tony slept soundly as Ziva dressed as swiftly as she could. She had to get out of there as quickly as possible. Tony couldn't know she was leaving, or she knew she would never make it out clean. She crept past his bed, hoping her much clumsier form would not alert him.

"Tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing," he rasped.

Ziva froze where she was, knowing that she couldn't leave without answering him.

"What would that be?"

"Sneaking out in the middle of the night without being discharged?"

"I do not need to be here anymore, Tony. There is nothing they can do for me. I need to be back at NCIS, looking for the person that did this to us."

"You need to be here or they would have discharged you already."

"Do not make this difficult. You know you're not going to stay for your recommended stay either. You will get restless."

"Right now I can't imagine being anything but nauseous, but you're probably right."

"See? So just let me go, Tony. Let me work, please."

"I would if that were the only reason you were leaving."

"What other reason would there be?"

"You're running away from this."

"There is no this, Tony. There cannot be a this."

"I don't know if you've noticed but this," he said, motioning between them, " has been going on for a while."

"Not in the way that you're implying."

"What am I implying, Zee-vah?"

"That we are involved...in a relationship."

"We are. Trust me, whether or not we realized it before, we're in a relationship."

"What do you mean by that?"

"When is the last time you went on a date?"

"I don't know," she answered, puzzled at his question.

"When's the last time you had sex?"

"I...don't..."

"Exactly," he said.

"Exactly what?" she asked growing frustrated.

"You want to know the last real date I went on, Ziva?" she shook her head. "Since EJ."

Ziva looked vaguely surprised at the revelation.

"Last time I had sex? That hasn't been quite as long of a stretch, but I can tell you that the only times it's happened in recent memory, I couldn't even enjoy it because I was too caught up wishing it was you in bed with me."

"Tony," she said, surprised.

"It's true. I can't be with anyone without wishing she was you."

"Tony, we cannot do this. I do not feel the same." she said, but she could tell he didn't believe it. They'd come too far together for him to believe any of her lies.

"Come over here, Ziva."

She looked at him skeptically.

"Please, just come here," he said.

"What?" she asked when she arrived at his bedside.

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life. Why?"

He didn't respond, simply cradled her head in his hand, bringing her slowly towards him.

"Tony," she quietly protested, but made no move to stop him.

He brought her lips to his, capturing them in a sweet, gentle kiss. She surrendered herself to him, allowing the warmth he caused to spread through her, making it that much harder to do what she knew she must do. He held her there for only a moment or so before pulling away. Tears were already welling in her eyes as he looked at her, only love pouring out of him.

"If you can tell me that you didn't feel anything, I'll consider letting it go for now."

She couldn't lie to him. She couldn't tell him she felt nothing, because she knew she loved him beyond a shadow of a doubt, but they could not be. As she pulled away from him, her heart was practically ripping in two.

"We cannot do this." she said, tears starting to spill over. She pulled away from his hands, apologizing as she went.

"I am sorry. I am so sorry, I can't." She shook her head as she backed out of the room. "I can't."

"Ziva, wait," he called, but she was gone.

She didn't visit during his remaining time in the hospital. Though he didn't stay for much longer, discharging himself against medical advice only 2 days later, it hurt when she didn't come by.

When he saw her the first time since the kiss, every muscle in her body was tense. Every bit of her body language was telling him to stay away, and though he wanted so badly to touch her, he refrained. She refused to let him in for the remainder of the Bodnar case. Even when nothing turned out to be what it seemed, and everything she thought she knew was turned upside down, the walls stayed up, and he was kept out.

He knew he should be angry and he shouldn't try so hard to start something she says she doesn't want. But soon their world started to fall apart, and everyone started to question who they are and what they do. Suddenly there were lawyers involved and they ended up in court. When the prosecutor started picking them apart piece by piece she took his hand in hers and he let her, because maybe she really did need it as much as he did. And when he brushed his thumb across her knuckles, she took it as permission to take it a little further and leaned into him, hoping to establish even a little bit of the connection they lost.

Though they weren't anywhere close to where they were before the crash, it gave him hope that maybe eventually they'll make it after all.