A/N: Hi guys! Me again, with another story. I really have a problem. I watched the last couple episodes of season 6 and then started season 7 and I just couldn't help writing a fanfic after 7x02. I wrote this quickly and I did read through it and caught some errors, but I am likely to have missed some so I apologize in advance. The last story I wrote was in present tense so I had some troubles sticking to past this time. Also, I have avoided writing a fic where Tony and Ziva get together so far because I feel like I would make them really out of character. I tried, though, and I'm sorry if they seem weird. Anyways, please forgive my errors and let me know what you think. :)

I couldn't find a good way to work this into the story, so the following takes place after Season 7 Episode 2: Reunion.

Acknowledgement

She came to him later that night. The visit was unexpected but not unwelcome, as Tony had been drinking and staring at the wall until she arrived. When he opened the door Ziva walked straight in, not speaking a word or waiting for a word to be spoken to her. Then she turned, looking at him before dropping her eyes and clasping her hands, looking unsure.

"Something on your mind?" Tony asked. It was a stupid question because it was quite clear that something was troubling her, but she wasn't saying anything so Tony took the initiative.

"Yes," she nodded, still looking at the floor. "I know we cleared up our troubles in the men's room—"

"—as we so often do," Tony butted in.

Ziva gave him a wary look and continued, "but something you said in Somalia still troubles me."

Uh oh. Tony quickly came up with an excuse. "Well, Ziva, you can't really hold me accountable for anything I said over there. I was shot full of truth serum, dehydrated, an—"

"You seemed competent enough to me."

"Well, you don't know everything."

"No," she said. She looked him in the eye. "That is why I am confused. You said that I shouldn't ask any questions I did not want to know the answer to."

Oh no. Here, now? Tony was expecting this to come up, but not so soon after she returned. He had planned on getting an answer all ready, preparing himself for trying to explain that it didn't mean what she thought it did, even though they both knew that would be a lie. "Oh yeah," he replied. "Forgot about that."

She chucked. "Well, I did not. And it would be fantastic if you could fill me up."

Tony tried to hide his smile but he couldn't. After the first laugh burst from his lips he was lost, cracking up while Ziva looked on with a shocked expression.

This went on for some time, but eventually Tony calmed, wiped the tears from under his eyes and said, "Ziva, that term is 'fill me in'."

She frowned. "Okay, I still do not understand what is so funny—"

"Fill me up is an innuendo." He looked at her, waiting for her to realize.

"Oh?" She looked perplexed for a minute, then her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly. "Oh. Oh! Tony, I am—I can't believe—" Her eyes were fearful for a moment and Tony realized what those men in Somalia could have done to her. He was terrified for a moment, terrified that he shouldn't have pointed it out, but he stood where he was, not wanting to make things worse. Then, to his astonishment, the corners of her mouth twitched up and she started laughing. Really, truly laughing. He hadn't seen her like this for a long, long time, and it brought a smile to his face, knowing that if she's laughing like this then Somalia couldn't be a the top of her head. He grinned at her as she laughed, her hand over her mouth and her eyes shut tight. She got herself under control and then heaved a sigh. "Well." She went over to his couch and took a seat, still shaking her head at herself.

The atmosphere of the room was not nearly as tense now and Tony was glad for it. He went and sat down next to her. They sat like that for a minute, in silence, until Tony asked, "Do you still want to be filled in?"

"Filled in. Yes. Please." Ziva turned and smiled at him.

He smiled back. "Well, I meant—"

"Wait," she held up a hand to stop him. Tony watched Ziva carefully, wondering what was going on, until she looked back at him and asked, "Does it mean what I think it means?" Her voice was soft.

"I don't know, Ziva," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you think it means?"

She was suddenly aware of how close they were sitting, how his leg was touching her leg, and Somalia took hold of her like a claw but she shook it off. This is Tony, this is Tony. She took a deep breath and replied, "I think it means that if I had asked certain questions, then we would have to acknowledge…" her voice trailed off.

Tony leaned closer. "Acknowledge what?"

She turned her head, her face inches from his. "This," she whispered, and pressed her lips against his.

Tony was shocked at the sudden sensation of her lips on his but he quickly adjusted, leaning into the kiss and cupping her cheek. He was thoroughly enjoying himself but his mind was racing a mile a minute and made himself pull away after a moment, needing to get a handle on his spinning head.

Ziva looked at him, horrified. "I am sorry, I should not have come."

She got up to leave but Tony grabbed her wrist. "Ziva, what are you doing?"

She looked down. "You pulled away."

"Only because I can't wrap my head around the fact that that actually happened," he said. Ziva still looked wary. "Maybe this will help…" he muttered. He stood up and this time he initiated the kiss, his arms wrapped around her back, one of his hands lost in her hair. She reciprocated and it hit him how utterly different this was than their undercover kiss years and years ago. This was slow and loving, not hungry and animalistic. He realized how much he had changed—how much they had changed. And maybe that meant that now, they're ready.

Tony pulled away again and pressed his forehead against hers. He could feel her breath on his mouth. "Ziva, I think we're ready."

Her eyes were still shut. "Are you sure?"

He chuckled. "No."

"Well," she pulled her head back and smiled softly, "that is good enough for me."

And with that they leaned back in, finally ready to start the relationship that had been on hold for so long.