Disclaimer: NCIS characters and plot references merely borrowed. Opening lines of this story from "Believe Again" by Montana-Rosalie.

Important A/N: This is sequel, of sorts, so will make much more sense if you read its genesis -- so please read Montana-Rosalie's lovely story, Believe Again, here on FFN as story ID #5047152, before you read this one. This story follows hers and liberally takes from it.

UPDATE and WARNING: installments not posted in chronological order! After posting the first sequel installment below, titled "Ziva," the other characters started intruding to fit themselves into this thing along the way. If you want to read the chapters in chronological order, it will be posted at the opening of each installment. So go to the last entry (currently, it's Ch. 7, Vance) and you'll find the updated order of posted chapters. Sorry for any confusion caused by the characters or me! (I would re-post in order but I really am too selfish to lose all the reviews attached so far...)

Longer A/N: I owe many thanks to Montana-Rosalie, who not only let me steal her story to keep going with it, she encouraged it! I read Believe Again and not only found it to be as lovely as her other stories, but it made me believe that Tiva was possible: they definitely had a connection, but it always felt to me to be work and team related, each of them so busy and focused as members of Gibbs' team it seemed their lives were too busy to really build another, non-work relationship too. Others authors certainly may have tried it, but Believe Again was the first thing that made me really believe there could be a Tiva, probably because the circumstances force them to lose their status as teammates -- and where else could that intense connection go? So this led to another first for me -- an urge to continue the story. I confessed as much to poor Montana-Rosalie, who has been remarkably gracious about it and about sharing her fic. My many thanks again, M-R!

(and as usual, I also owe a thanks to Mari83 for patient reading, hand-holding, photography and always, always, for marzipan! :D)

So thanks to those reading -- and please let me hear from you! Any and all input craved and welcomed, and are very much appreciated. If you don't review but enjoyed this fic, then please at least leave Montana-Rosalie a review for "Believe Again" -- there's so much to admire in that story!

Believing still

"Ziva used to believe in many things, but fairy-tales were never among them. Now, when Tony is kissing her, half a year after she stopped believing in anything at all, the fairy-tale comes true, and nothing is wrong with the world.

"Tony kisses her, and Ziva believes."

I.

Another half year, the fairy tale has taken hold, and even a Mossad-trained warrior believes that the world can even be a hopeful place.

There is a rhythm to their lives now, a gentle cycle to their days that bring Tony and Ziva together and apart and together again in a soft cadence: awakening together, running or showering – or both – together, going in to work together ... then parting ways in the elevator, Ziva off at the second floor and into the squad room they used to share, Tony riding on up to three and to NSF, where he was easing into his role as analyst in the Antiterrorism unit.

He'd first thought the job was a bone he'd been thrown, one he'd never have been offered if he'd just walked in off the street with only a street cop's credentials, even if his background was both federal and investigative. He didn't think they'd have made the offer at all, but was dead certain they never would have hired him as he was now if he hadn't been an NCIS special agent injured in the line, injured in his effort to protect a fellow team member. Even Gibbs' irritated growl – lecturing him that while NCIS might have given him an early pension and a pat on the head if he'd decided not to come back, it damn well didn't hand out honorary jobs and if he heard DiNozzo wasn't pulling his weight in NSF, he'd have to answer both to his new boss and to him, because Gibbs had trained him better than that – wasn't enough to convince him, deep down. But as always, Tony was unrepentantly Tony, and from his very first day, he blew into NSF with his usual irreverence and charm.

Only Ziva knew how much effort it took to seem so effortless.

But before long it was clear to his new unit, and to Tony himself, that his unique history as an NCIS special agent, and as both beat cop and detective in three city police departments, made his contributions a rare and valuable addition to the continually evolving training and security programs being developed within the Antiterrorism Department – so much so that some of his informal chats with MTAC analysts on the side quickly led to a genuine dispute between the department heads as to where the former field agent could best be used. One of the first times Ziva saw the old sparkle really return to Tony's eyes was his recounting of what happened when he'd been called to the Director's office: half expecting to be told that it was just too much hassle to keep trying to figure out how to accommodate his blindness, Tony had been the surprised recipient of the Director's mild consternation that his newest security force asset was the source of a staffing argument between NSF and MTAC.

Suddenly, Tony found he was wanted for his expertise, not just tolerated for his past service – and that knowledge went far to heal a huge part of the wounds he still carried. Even more, they were arguing over him, and nothing – not even Ziva's steady, abiding love, so freely and easily voiced now – had helped him more in recovering from the non-physical part of his injuries. DiNozzo was that rare field agent still working for the agency but no longer in the field, and since the Director agreed that his street sense was a good addition to the less battle-scarred analysts posted in MTAC, he was ordered "on-loan" to MTAC two mornings a week.

He was insufferable about it for at least four days, and Ziva had never so welcomed being driven crazy in her life.

II.

Twelve weeks into Tony's return to work he was scheduled into site assessment rotation with his unit, a few each month. The first couple times, Ziva worked as hard as she could not to let him see how edgy it made her, almost like his going back out in the field, but without her, without Gibbs, without real field agents, with only the others on the assessment teams. She knew she was being ridiculous; not only was he a part of a team, always with at least one or two others should even the slightest issue arise, he was part of pro-active law enforcement now, before things went wrong, rather than picking up the pieces as they did – as he had – investigating crimes. The assignments should not be threatening ones. Not like before. Not filled with guns and car chases .... or explosions. Especially, not with explosions.

From the moment Tony had left the hospital, he pushed for independence, quietly stubborn and headstrong and nearly always no worse the wear for it. Ziva expected nothing less from him and knew that, if he knew the truth, that how sometimes his solo jaunts to work or the market or the coffee shop worried her more than his undercover missions or confrontations with escaped felons ever had, he would suspect she saw him as vulnerable now. And she would never, ever, let him think that.

But that first time he went on site, to an assessment in Annapolis, she paced, she fretted, she barked at the new guy and even went down to the gym to take out her anxiety on a hapless probie who unwittingly took on her offer to spar. The second time wasn't much better. Logically, she knew he would be fine; logically, she knew she would get used to it. But her logic was no match for her fierce, protective concern for someone she had so recently let in, so completely.

This was a whole new set of feelings for her, and she fought to understand them and get a better handle on her reactions. For her whole life, her friends and lovers and family were trained and capable of handling nearly any threat that would present itself, nearly able as she. While she had lost many people dear to her, it was a part of life in Israel, especially for her family, inextricably entwined with Mossad. Everyone there, young and old, lived within that landscape, knowing that danger was always only a moment or two away. People there learned to be ready for it, and the seeming resignation to it always hovered in their lives.

But then Ziva came to Washington, and NCIS ... and Tony.

Tony was an able officer; well trained, professional and responsible about keeping up training, he was a good agent and had been fully capable of looking out for himself. But Washington wasn't Israel, and professional training in law enforcement wasn't the same as being trained from the cradle to anticipate, especially for someone no longer on the same footing with the bad guys, with his former self. Ziva felt that difference every moment Tony was away from the Navy Yard; she dwelt on her fear that somehow, someone would take advantage of an agent no longer able to watch out for himself for the threats that might still be out there. She knew he was capable and fit for the assignment – she just didn't like the feeling that she was being denied the chance to be there for him, with him, just ... well, just in case.

So those first times, when she was not out on a mission of her own, Ziva waited, adrenaline pumping as if she were on assignment, to hear he was back on the Yard. After a few more visits, all blessedly without incident, she was less obvious about watching for his return, but still did so. As best she could, she would note the car in which he'd gone and watch for it to reappear in its numbered bay, if he hadn't happened by or called first. The days he was posted to MTAC were the easiest, as she could check on his return by accessing the 'on duty' roster with a touch of her mouse. If he knew all she did, he kept it to himself; as he'd told her early on, it was both encouraging and embarrassing to think of her tracking his comings and goings, so just found it easier not to let on when he was aware of it. Gibbs, of course, sensed what had been happening, and had let her deal with those first few times in her own way, as long as they didn't interfere with his team's cases.

Ziva wasn't alone in her efforts, and she had good cover from the others, all determined to keep Tony close in their lives. Gibbs tended to make his way to MTAC for updates and assessments more often when Tony was there, passing by for only a word or two, but as always, making himself known and available for Tony's six, a strong steady presence; Abby and Ducky encouraged him to come visit their domains as he'd used to, and on a few occasions became resources for him as well, their scientific input put to good use in his new projects. But most touching and helpful and unflagging was the time and energy McGee offered him in seeking and building state of the art computer modifications even more sophisticated and versatile than had the IT personnel, all so Tony could access a very good deal of the information otherwise available only visually. It was clear that McGee had invested a lot of time in research and study to find the best. Tony repaid his efforts as he could on those occasions, once in a while, when Tim was wrestling with an assignment for Gibbs and coming up dry, by privately brainstorming with McGee for new angles, new answers – even if he still insisted it had to be done by 'campfire.'

Ziva could see that it all became a little easier, and a little more familiar, for Tony, for all of them, as the days and weeks went by. They were all settling back into a rhythm, their team no longer a team but more like an extended family, under the same roof but going their own ways. Different, new and untried ... but possible. And little by little, their lives got back to humming along in this new cadence. Not like old times... but nearly as real and true. And if her very warm, very private and very demonstrative assurances to Tony that she simply missed him and craved knowing what he was up to didn't completely extinguish his embarrassment, it certainly added to the magic of their lovemaking and, for those glorious minutes, showed him another little bit of heaven in her touch...

III.

Nineteen weeks after his return, he was brave enough to ask her if would she have him otherwise, brave enough to ask if their newly developing relationship was, for her, simply her guilt for how things had happened, or pity for his loss. "I might have visited the others in hospital, had it not been you," she said in her typically clipped assessment, "...but not every day."

She was brave enough to ask him if he'd be so settled and happy with just her, at least for now, if things had turned out differently for him. "Dating someone new every night and running from commitment hadn't been something I'd planned," he said solemnly, "it was just – safer." Letting his guard down, showing his emotions and need wasn't something he'd tried often and when he did, it hadn't gone well. So maybe ... maybe ... if things hadn't changed, he wouldn't have changed.

She loved him for his honesty.

But as he'd been quick to add, he had been blown up – and at least at first, his dependency was obvious – so clear for the rest of the world to see. And he'd come back, was still coming back; he'd survived the explosion and living without sight and had found that the world hadn't ended when he sometimes asked for help. "DiNozzo's Life's Lesson #13," he offered with a grin, "when you let yourself accept a hand from someone, sometimes you can get– and maybe even give– even more..."

Maybe even the knowledge that commitment wasn't always something to be avoided.

IV.

Twenty four weeks after Tony's return to work, Ziva found herself remembering her shifting and conflicting feelings for him, those first years. She remembered how she'd been drawn to him before, but not like this; before, their work intruded, their lives collided. They had teased and bickered and bantered. Tony had drawn her into competition for Gibbs' approval, when her need for such validation was long past; Tony had joked and mugged and irritated his way under her skin by being absolutely everything she'd always detested, while being maddeningly engaging as he did. In the squad room, during down time, no matter how confident she would act, she never felt she had the right footing with him – he was like quicksand, avoiding anything serious, feinting away from anything that might reveal the man lurking beneath the quick, engaging smile and movie quotes and immature ogling of anything young and female.

She knew there had always been something more there, between them; how else to explain that otherwise elusive bond, evident in the ease with which they fell into sync when a sudden threat arose or they approached an unsecured scene? Yet away from the immediacy of danger, even after a few years as partners, they were never on time with each other: when she would reach out to him, he'd miss it; when he showed her the greatest empathy and caring, she turned it away. Only days before the world had so completely changed for them, she had offered her soul and, at the time, was crushed when he'd trampled on it. Now from a distance, seeing herself and Tony of that time with the filters of greater knowledge – greater connection – she understood that he had never done so purposefully. He'd been fighting his own demons that, at the time, seemed so important, so powerful – just as hers had been. Now she could see that for so many months as partners, they'd been rising and falling with the same feelings, same reactions, same instincts for each other – just not cycling to the surface at the same time. But the explosion had torn more than their flesh and bone, more than his sight – it had torn away their defenses and reset the clock ...

Amazing what a little time and a big explosion could do.

Ziva felt the weight of weeks gone by and the promise of more to come. She knew that time was working its way into their lives to ease the nightmares and calm anxieties, to heal deepest wounds and trade old habits for new. She knew they had made it past much of the worst but not all, had found much of their way together but not all. She knew they were not perfect, that life wasn't perfect, that each of them, and both of them, had lost much in their lives which could never be replaced. But what had grown in those voids, for each of them, and for both of them, was new and tender, unique ...

... and theirs, alone.

She curled a little closer into his side and slipped her head up onto his shoulder, nestling in close and feeling a little involuntary purr rumble in her throat as he, not quite conscious yet, pulled her closer. The world could stop for a few more moments, just like this, she reflected – because they were safe and warm and in each other's arms ... and no matter what happened from now on, no matter what the world would throw at them, they'd been through more than most people would ever have to face, had been through the fire – quite literally – together, and had come out on the other side, even able to smile some of the time. In moments like this – most of the time.

In another moment, a sleepy, contented smile slowly lifted the corners of Tony's mouth, and he turned his head slightly to nuzzle her hair. "Whose turn is it to make coffee?" he murmured.

"The one who promised to buy a coffee maker that can be set the night before but has not," she challenged.

The DiNozzo smirk was back. "What happened to those crazy ninja skills of yours, Zee-vah?" he teased, his voice still husky with sleep. "No heightened sense of smell?"

And at that moment – realizing she suddenly scented the warm, rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee – she abruptly rocked up on her elbow to gape at him in her surprise, staring speechless as his smirk widened into a grin that he'd caught her unaware. "You did get one!" she exclaimed. His grin grew even wider and his chuckle carried his pleasure that he'd pleased her.

"Winter's coming," he explained, "and I figured we could use a few more warm minutes under the covers."

They'd been through more than most people would ever have to face, Ziva thought again, and yet from the worst of moments had found that connection elusive to them before. They'd made it past most of the worst and had begun to believe that just about anything was possible.

Tony deftly circled her ribcage with his strong arm and pulled her close, bringing the fairy tale back again with his kiss. Ziva used to believe in many things, but fairy-tales had never been among them.

But as Tony kissed her, once again, her fairy-tale continued, and Ziva could still believe...

***