Soul mates.
As soon as the plane had landed and she inhaled that first breath of D.C. air, she knew she was back where she belonged. The atmosphere here was cool, and despite the traffic, everything felt tranquil, a far cry from the never ending dry heat and political uncertainty of Israel. She loved Tel Aviv, it was a part of her, roots which coursed through her blood and made her the woman she was today. But those roots were old, weathered, worn, she had made new roots somewhere else, and try as she might she couldn't let them die; she couldn't revive the old ones, and so she owed it to herself to return, to revive what she had left behind a decade ago now, or at the very least, to see an old face whom she had thought of every single day since she left.
She took a cab through the city. Structurally, so little had changed in her absence. Aesthetically, it was as if she were a first time tourist. The things she used to know, the places she frequented, markets, stores, bars, they were no longer the ones she had left behind, they had new names, new signs, new décor. What could she expect? Lives went on, even if you weren't there to see them do so. People moved, they died, they sold up, they bought new, each change was a sign of the times, of people making decisions that best affected them, to get the most from what they had; just like she thought she was doing years ago.
The cab turned down a street she could have painted a perfect portrait of from memory; a street she was pleased to see had not changed in her absence. Sure some of the cars were different, a few window decorations had changed but on the whole, it was just the way she remembered. As they drew to a halt the driver looked at her in the mirror; he was young, younger than she remembered cabbies being, but then she was older now, so perhaps that was what clouded her judgement.
"You need a hand with the bag m'am?" M'am. She might have been older but she certainly didn't deserve to be m'am'd just yet.
"No, I have got it covered." She returned leaning forward and passing some notes through the window. "Keep the change." She instructed. This being her first stop since arriving, she didn't have any single bills so she had tipped way too high, not that the driver would complain about that. Pushing open the door, she stepped onto the wet asphalt underfoot; a heavy rain had clearly fallen earlier, and now delicate puddles reflected the streetlamp haze and headlight glare. She walked to the trunk and pulled it open, reaching for the modest case she had brought with her; small enough to check in as a carry on; that was how she had lived her life these last years, making sure she never held anything so dear that it could not be fitted into that tiny case and moved at a moment's notice. She lifted the case with ease to the ground below and extended the handle. Closing the trunk and wheeling to the sidewalk she waved and thanked the driver as he pulled away.
Turning, she looked up at the towering apartment block before her. She located the window she recalled looking out of on occasion, the window she had once pictured herself looking out of every morning for the rest of her life. The light was out, but it wasn't all that late, too early for sleep at least. Perhaps he was out? Watching a movie? Maybe he no longer lived there at all. There was only one way for her to find out the answer to that. She stepped one foot in front of the other with no thoughts passing through her mind but a host of butterflies unfurling their wings in her stomach.
As she approached the door she let her fingers grace the keypad, her subconscious tapping in the correct order of numbers to grant her access. She felt her heart skip a beat when the door unlatched; she still knew the code. She pulled open the door and stepped inside, the familiar smell of pine cleaner filling her with a host of happy memories she had long but forgotten. Her fingers twitched as she hovered them over the elevator call button, she flexed them in and out before deciding to take the stairs; she hadn't planned what she was going to say, how she was going to say it, she hadn't even thought about what she'd do if he didn't live here anymore. Coming back had been a long shot; would he even want to see her after everything that had passed between them? The thoughts circled around and around in her head as she climbed each flight of stairs. Would he look the same? Talk the same? Did he still like movies? Did he still work for Gibbs? Did he have his own team? Was his father still behaving like a teenager? Was his father even still alive? She'd heard about Jackson Gibbs, she'd even booked herself a flight back for the funeral, only to change her mind at the last minute; she'd been gone less than a year then, she hadn't found what she had been looking for when she left, going back would confuse not only herself but him too.
Before she realised, she had reached his door. She hadn't even noticed that her feet had drawn her down the hallway as if running on instinct. She set her suitcase down beside her and touched her chilled fingers to her chest. She could feel it sitting there, the key he'd given her to his apartment about a month before she left, the key he said was so she could come and go as she pleased, make herself at home, make her feel safe. She had always intended on returning it to him, but after she left, things had happened so quickly it had slipped her mind. She found the key nestled between a picture frame of her, Ari and Tali as children and a picture of the entire team taken one Thanksgiving. She thought about mailing it back to him, but something inside of her physically ached when she tried to place it in the envelope. It was like she was truly sealing off all ties to him, and while that had been her intention by staying in her homeland, she wasn't ready for that to be a reality. She'd never use it, of that she was certain, but just holding it gave her a link to him that was physical in one way or another.
Knock. Just knock. She urged herself.
What if he's not there?
What if he is?
You'll never know unless you try… Her mind ran in circles, arguing and justifying to herself. She raised her hand several times to rap against the wood, each time loosening her grip and dropping it to her side. She'd never felt like this before, she couldn't remember a time when nerves had affected her. She wasn't raised that way, she didn't live that way.
Just. Knock.
Inhaling deeply, she held her breath as she let her hand motion towards the door, her heart pounding so fast she fell deaf to the sound of her knock. Her chest rose and fell with speed, she rocked back and forth on her feet before turning and deciding to leave; she wasn't ready for this, she couldn't know, what if he opened the door and just shut it back on her… what if he didn't want to see her? She'd made it about five paces when she heard the door click open behind her. Halting dead in her steps, she turned back with caution and clocked eyes on the man leaning out of the door frame.
It was him. Tony DiNozzo. Ten years had aged him slightly but he wore it well. He was still in shape, a sweater covered his torso but she could see it hugging the muscles of his arms, and she just knew those abs would be under there somewhere; the abs she'd shared a bed with on many occasions; abs she'd thought about in the lonely nights… He had a few wrinkles near his eyes; wrinkles from smiling, laughing, the good kind of wrinkles, the ones that showed he had had a good life, a fun life, an enjoyable one. His hair was very lightly peppered with greys, the kind that defined him, that matured him in a dignified way. And he still had those thick black eyelashes that framed his gorgeous sparkling green eyes.
"Ziva?" The look of surprise in his eyes didn't give away if he thought it was a good or bad surprise that she had turned up here, out of the blue.
"Hello Tony." She smiled at him but didn't move.
He stepped out into the hallway, looking back into his apartment briefly before doing so. He left the door open, the light from inside sending ambient light spilling into the hallway.
"Wh…wh…" he scanned her up and down, his eyes wide, as though disbelieving she was really there. "What are you… what are you doing here?" he questioned, clearly too stunned to form too many words.
She shrugged with a delicate grin. "I was thinking about… I thought I…" she paused momentarily, taking a breath to compose her scattered thoughts. "I am home." She admitted.
Tony rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger before pinching the bridge of his nose. She was back. She was really here. He'd dreamt of her return for so long, he'd imagined it a thousand different ways. He'd always pictured her phoning him, he'd go to the airport; he'd have a bunch of flowers, something delicate, elegant, something bright and fragrant, fresh and green. He'd stand and wait, shifting from foot to foot as the flight board updated, as it told him she had landed, she'd got to baggage claim and now she was heading towards him. He's scan the crowd until he found her then he'd clock eyes on her, smile and like every cheesy movie he'd ever seen, he'd jump that damn barrier, pull her into his arms and tell her if she ever dared to leave again he'd chain himself to her. He'd tell her that leaving her behind and meant he left a piece of him, his heart, his soul, his jigsaw was incomplete… she'd tell him she was back to stay and they'd kiss causing hordes of fellow travellers to applaud and watch as their love story played out before them. Of course, that dream grew more and more distant the longer she stayed away, now his dreams were more and more infrequent, but every so often he'd wake up breathless when he saw her face amongst the crowd of his subconscious.
"What do you mean you're home?" he asked. He needed clarity before he let his hopes soar.
"I am back. I have done all the penance I can do. I need to be with my… family." She admitted, stumbling over the word, unsure if she could truly call herself family after a decade of absence.
Tony stared at her for what seemed a torturously long time. Ten years had changed her, and yet it had left so many things the same. Her accent was stronger, the way it had been when he first met her; extended time in her native land would do that, he pondered how much she had been able to speak English in the past years, if at all. Physically, she was the exact woman who he had left at the airport as if it were yesterday. Her dark hair still hung in beautiful waves, tumbling down her back and in front of her shoulders, she still had defined eyebrows, long dark lashes and eyes the colour of melted chocolate. Her face remained untouched by time; though she did appear to have developed a beautiful glow atop her already sun kissed skin. There was an aura about her that had not been there when they had parted ways. She no longer seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, she seemed to be happy, not just outwardly, but in her very core, she radiated peace and beauty, as though she had finally put all her demons to bed.
"It's good to see you Ziva." He admitted, stepping forward and wrapping his arms somewhat hesitantly around her. As soon as he touched her, he felt a spark reignite within him, he felt her reciprocate his gesture, her own arms folding around him, her body fitting perfectly against his as though she had never not been there.
He held her for what seemed like an eternity. He feared that letting her go would mean he'd lose her again; if he let her go, she could run, she could go back and shatter his whole reality once more. But, as much as he'd have liked to, they couldn't stay there indefinitely.
"Would you uh, do you wanna come inside?" he motioned to the door.
She wished she could have found words, but right now it was taking all the energy she had to keep her heart firmly inside her chest. She gave a simple nod and followed him into the apartment. As she passed over the threshold she was greeted with the smell she so fondly remembered. His smell. The smell she hadn't bothered to wash off her clothes after their last day together, not until it had all but vanished and she was sure what she thought she was smelling was only in her imagination. There was something mixed with the smell she remembered, something sweeter, softer, but then, memory had a way of fooling you, perhaps that was always the way it had smelt, she had just clouded it with her own beliefs and ideals as the years had worn on. The rest of the apartment had barely changed. He'd decorated it, added a few wooden boxes in the corners of the room, no doubt to store his ever increasing movie collection, but otherwise, it was exactly as she remembered it.
"I was not sure you would still be here." She admitted as she took a seat he offered her on the couch.
"Where else would I go?" he smiled. "I'm on rent control, this place is a steal." He moved away from her toward the kitchen. "Drink?" he asked, pulling a box of peppermint tea bags from the cupboard without waiting for her reply.
"You kept them?" she asked, a little bewildered.
"Oh, no, I threw them out years ago; they passed the use by so I got rid." He explained, filling a kettle with water.
She nodded, understanding. She had been gone a long while.
"But," he continued. "I bought in fresh, just in case you ever dropped by."
There it was. That flutter back in her heart again. She took a few slow breaths, trying to calm herself.
"I always hoped you'd be back someday." He spoke honestly. "I really missed you." He set the water to boil and returned to join her on the couch.
"I missed you too." She admitted.
"Could have fooled me." He mumbled.
"I guess I deserve that." She nodded.
"I wrote to you every day." There was tinge of anger to his tone. "Every day." He stressed.
"I know you did."
"You couldn't find a minute to reply?"
"I thought about it." She spoke. "In fact, I drafted many responses; I just could not bring myself to send them."
"Why?" he asked. "That's all I wanted, word that you are okay, something, anything."
She nodded. "I understand that, I have been feeling that way for the last seven years."
Tony did the math. He last tried to make contact with her seven years ago.
"I would have given anything to receive one of your messages but it was selfish of me to think that when I had never replied to yours."
"So why didn't you?" he queried, his voice now just sounding hurt.
"Because," she explained. "If I were to respond, it would be keeping the notion of us alive for you. I told you ten years ago that I wanted you to move on, that you deserved better. If I had kept our correspondence going, it would only have made the process for you worse."
"That was not your choice to make." Tony grunted. "You don't get to decide how I feel. What I do."
"No, you are correct, but I do get to decide where I stand. I loved receiving your messages, I so badly wanted to write back, but I could not do that to you. I could not keep alive an illusion that was not to be. As your contact grew fewer, I began to wonder if I should send something, if only because I selfishly was not ready for things between us to be completely gone. My heart would skip a beat when I would see your e-mails every few months, and then that last one came and I heard nothing. I took me a long time to be okay with that." She explained.
"If you were feeling that bad, why didn't you just come back sooner?"
"That would not have solved anything." She admitted. "I left for a reason. I needed to… to find myself. To fix myself. To be a better version of myself."
Silence passed between them for a few beats, interrupted only by the sound of the kettle beginning to whistle on the stove top. Tony quickly pulled himself to his feet and turned off the flames.
"And?" he asked, pouring the water into her mug, watching the teabag absorb water until it was flooded, spiralling green water into the ceramic. "Did you do it?"
"I do not know. I hope so." She admitted.
Tony brought the mug into her after topping up his own cup of coffee from the pot. He handed it over and felt his fingers brush with hers. How he'd longed for that contact as each day passed by. Ziva thanked him as she wrapped her hands around the warm mug, blowing the steam away in the process.
"How have you been?" Tony finally questioned.
"I have been good. I did some work to honour my father for a while and then I decided I needed a total new start. I took on some charity projects," she sighed. "I suppose you would call it a veiled attempt to make amends, trying to make me feel better about who I was."
"And did it?"
"No." Ziva responded honestly. "At least not to begin with. I was working with projects which gave too much back, I did not deserve the pride of doing good, so I started to pull away, to tackle projects that would go unnoticed to most eyes, but made a difference to those who needed it. I did not stick around to see that though."
"You know you never had to prove anything. You never had to make up for things; you were doing your job Ziva, that didn't make you a bad person." Tony had rationalised his arguments for her as the years had gone by; he still felt the same as he did they day they parted ways, to him, there wasn't a person who exuded more grace, more kindness than her. "You had orders-"
"I did not have to obey them." Ziva shook her head.
"Of course you did, we all know what would have happened if you hadn't. The job would have been done anyway; at least you got to ensure they were done in the best possible way."
"That does not make it any easier to accept."
"If the guy hitting the button on death row decides he doesn't want to end someone's life, if he changes his mind, does the inmate get a stay?" Tony offered. "No, because there would be someone else to do the job instead. Following orders does not make you a bad person. You are who you are inside, not what your actions dictate."
Before Ziva had the chance to say anything more she was distracted by a voice that came from nowhere, a voice so light, so free, a voice that sounded from his bedroom.
"Daddy?"
Ziva did little to hide the way her eyes widened as both of them turned from the couch to look at the doorway. She hadn't heard it open up but sure enough standing at the threshold was a tiny person, a little girl, a girl with long, unruly dirty blonde hair, straight near the top, save for wild frizzy curls near her temples, and then ringlets as her hair fell down her back. She stood in a pair of pink and white teddy bear pyjamas, a very well loved light grey stuffed elephant clutched by the ear in her tiny hand. She was him. In so many ways she was him. The long lashes, the green eyes, the cupid's bow lips; there was no denying who her father was. And yet, there was someone she didn't recognise mixed in with this little girl, the little girl who should have been theirs, the little girl who could have been theirs if she had stayed.
"What is it princess?" He asked rapidly pulling himself to his feet and moving around the couch to crouch before her.
"I had a bad dream." The girl whispered, her eyes drawn to Ziva.
"A bad dream huh?" Tony repeated, placing his hand on her shoulder. "What did daddy tell you about bad dreams?"
"That the fairies you put on the ceiling always chase them away." The girl replied as though she'd been told it a hundred times.
"That's right, sometimes they sneak in quick while the fairies aren't looking, but once they find them, do they ever come back?"
The girl shook her head with a grin. "Uh-uh."
"So what do you say we give the fairies a chance to do their job and go back to bed?" Tony suggested, standing up and lifting his daughter with one arm as she jumped towards him.
"Okay, but you need to tuck me back in again, for real, not like when you try to sneak off!" The girl was so precocious, she knew what she wanted, she was, in every way her father's daughter.
"You drive a hard bargain." He sucked in a breath through his teeth. "But I think we can manage it." He turned to Ziva and held up an outstretched hand. "Five minutes?" he mimed.
She nodded, understanding.
As Tony disappeared into his bedroom she quickly sipped at her drink, hoping the tea would calm her frantic nerves. As her eyes scanned the apartment, she didn't know how she'd missed it. There were children's DVDs stacked up next to the TV; there were drawings with an abundance of glitter splattered across them on the pin board; his goldfish had been replaced with a tiny cage featuring what appeared to be a slightly overfed fluff ball with a child's scrawl of "Cuddles" written with the "e" backwards underneath; those wooden boxes were, under closer inspection toy boxes, the name "Amelia" had been carved into one and an elaborate toy scene into the other, no doubt the work of Leroy Jethro Gibbs' hands. The more she paid attention, the more she saw, on the mantle sat four framed photographs, the first of the little girl alone dressed in a pink tutu and satin ballet shoes, the next of the two of them, Tony proudly holding the girl as a baby, she looked so tiny nestled into his chest while he looked down at her with nothing but love on his face. The third was of the whole team sitting around a table, Tony standing at the end with a huge smile as the little girl stared at the flickering glow of a lighted candle shaped like the number one, and the final picture was a simple black and white shot, it had to have been fairly recent, Tony sat in his desk chair, the little girl curled into his lap, a book opened in front of them, Tony's mouth open as he read, the girl's finger poking at the page where she followed along with his words. It was beautiful. A perfect moment captured forever on film; it was Abby's work she just knew it. Her heart was pounding, her hands were shaking, those butterflies were performing an Olympic gymnast routine in her stomach, there was a little girl, he had a little girl, a child that was a part of him but also a part of some other woman, a woman who was always going to be a part of his life, a woman who was connected to him in more ways that she ever could be, and all the while she could hear that tiny voice in his room, talking away to her father.
"Now you have to sing the song, the daddy version, not the real one, I like yours bestest!" she proclaimed.
"Once. I'll do it once then you need to try and go to sleep." He warned.
"Deal."
"Hush little Amelia, don't say a word, daddy's gonna fry you a pancake bird, if that pancake bird gets burnt, daddy's gonna buy you toys with the money he's earned, and when daddy steps on the ones you left on the floor, he's a sucker who will go out and buy you more, and when you groan that it's time for bed, have sweet dreams about the time you shaved Uncle McGee's head!" Tony crooned.
The little girl giggled and clapped as Tony sang.
"Do another one daddy!"
"We had a deal."
The girl sighed.
"Who is that lady?" she questioned, wanting to prolong her time with her father.
"That's daddy's friend,"
"I never seed her before."
"She's a friend from a long time ago; she was… daddy's best friend." Tony thought back to those times that seemed a lifetime ago now, he had only good memories of her, until she was gone.
"What's she called?" The girl quizzed.
"Ziva."
"I'm-"
"Bed time Amelia." Tony cut her off.
"Fine." She sighed, scrunching herself down into the covers. "Goodnight daddy." She sighed deeply.
"Good night princess." Tony touched a kiss to her forehead and pulled the covers up before flicking the night light on and leaving the room, pulling his door closed behind him.
"Sorry about that I just-… Ziva?" Tony scanned the apartment, she was gone. "Ziva?" Her suitcase was missing too, her mug still more than half-filled sitting on the coffee table. He rushed to the door, swung it open and dashed into the hallway. "Ziva!" he called spotting her nearing the end of the hall. She didn't stop, she didn't turn. He ran after her, knowing nothing could happen to his daughter when he could see the door to his apartment from here. "Ziva, wait!" He touched his hand to her shoulder when he caught up with her, forcing her to stop and turn to look at him. "Where are you going?" He asked, slightly concerned that he was out of breath after such a short distance. He'd tell himself his heart was already racing from the shock of her turning up on his doorstep after all this time.
"I should not have come here. I am sorry." She apologised.
"Shouldn't have come? I couldn't be happier that you did!" Tony reassured.
"You have moved on, you did what I wanted you to, what I told you to. I have no right to come in and ruin that for you. To turn up after all this time and disrupt the life you have made for yourself. I gave up the opportunity I had to… to make a life with you; I will have to live knowing that was my mistake." She tried to pull away, to leave again, but Tony kept a firm grip on her. "Tony, let me go, you have something here that I cannot just walk into the middle of. You have the wife, the child, all you need is the white cricket fence and you have it all. I will not come between that." She found it hard to look him in the eyes, she didn't want him to see the hurt in hers, the way her heart ached that she had waited too long to return, that despite what she had said when she left, she had always believed when she returned they would just slot back together, the way soul mates were supposed to.
"No, you don't understand, it's not what you think… Look come back inside and let me explain… please… please?" The look in his eyes was one she recognised, it was the last look he had given her before he left her behind; a look of longing, of desperation, of love. Everything inside of her screamed that she should just leave, that she had ruined too many families though the work she had done before, she couldn't do that again. If it was anyone but Tony, she'd have listened to that voice, but he had a hold on her, stronger than anything she had ever felt before, she couldn't walk away from him again. She pursed her lips, inhaled deeply and followed him back to his apartment.
Tony held out his hand and gestured for her to sit on the couch again, but this time she chose the chair, she couldn't be as close to him as she was knowing there was a different woman he ought to be sharing his personal space with.
"I know I should have told you, I know that was the kind of news I should have written you about, but you have to understand, I sent you at least 300 messages and you didn't bother to reply to a single one." He sighed. "I was mad at you."
Ziva nodded, she understood.
"And then, as time went on and she got older I kind of figured it was too late, I mean what was I supposed to do, send you an e-mail saying, here's some pictures of a 4 year olds birthday party and by the way she's mine?!" Tony rubbed his hand across his eyes then slowly down to his chin. "I wish I had told you, I wish this wasn't just a huge bomb to drop on you-" he clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. "Sorry, wrong turn of phrase."
Ziva shook her head and shrugged.
"You're wrong." He informed her. "I did exactly the opposite of what you asked me to do. I didn't try and move on, I didn't try to date or find love, I never married or sought out anything long term, didn't bother to find a new place to live… I was never a white picket, it's picket by the way, fence kinda guy."
He could see the cogs ticking over in her mind, the confusion in her eyes. It didn't make sense. He had a child, how could there not be a wife, or a girlfriend or at least somebody?
"Then how…?" Ziva indicated to his bedroom door.
"I was lonely." Tony admitted honestly. "I was angry. I tried to fix the hurt I still felt at you being gone with a series of meaningless encounters with women." He knew Ziva had an idea of his personality before he met her, he knew what she thought of him, and honestly it didn't bother him before, but for some reason, he now felt shame over his actions. Perhaps because he had grown up now, he had another life to account for, a daughter he put all of his attention into, a child he was going to raise right, someone who was going to look up to him. "I was heading out to work one morning when this woman appears outside the building. She was all flustered and ranting. Looked like she hadn't slept in a couple days, and I recognised her, you know? Her face looked kinda familiar but I couldn't place why I knew her. Anyways, she handed me the baby carrier, just thrust it right at me and says "she's yours, I can't do it, you take care of her." And that was it. She took off running, leaving me standing with this baby in total shock."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that." Tony repeated. "So I'm stunned, of course, I drag the kid into work and try to figure out what to do. I didn't know the first thing about raising a kid, let alone a damn baby, I have nothing ready at my apartment, I didn't even know if the kid had a name!" Tony ran his hand through his hair recalling that day. "It was a one night stand. That was it. I used the databases to track down the woman, she'd left the state, took me a couple months to contact her and when I did she said she wanted to pretend like it never happened, told me if I wanted her to legally sign away her rights she would, she didn't want the baby and she wanted no reminders of me. I'd literally been in this whole limbo place since she dropped the girl off. She was mine but she wasn't mine you know? And now that was it, I had my answer. She wasn't coming back and I had this girl whether I wanted her or not." Tony looked around his apartment, his eyes settling on the things that had changed since his daughter came into his life. "I thought for about a second about having her adopted." He spoke it in a hushed tone, as though ashamed. "But I just couldn't do it. That baby had held my finger while she slept, she stared at me while I gave her a bottle, she smiled at me as she drifted into sleep; she was helpless and dependent on me and I was the only parent she knew."
"So you became her father." Ziva stated.
"I became her father." Tony nodded. "Would you ever believe it? Me? A dad?" He laughed.
She smiled. She did believe it. She had always thought he would make an excellent father. He was every bit the child himself, and yet he knew when he needed to be mature, he knew when situations called for seriousness and he could handle that.
"Of course, I had a little help." He continued. "Gibbs put together so many beautiful pieces of furniture, including this amazing oak carved crib, and Jimmy helped me with toys and books and nursery decorations, which pretty much overtook my entire bedroom! He did some baby proofing, a lot of baby proofing, he's got three of his own now."
Tony watched as Ziva's eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face in delight for her colleague. But he continued his story before she had a chance to speak. "You know McGee is surprisingly good with babies, he's got this like… baby sense… he just knows what they want and he could get her to stop crying like that!" he clicked his fingers. "Abby and Ducky, before he retired, were always on hand for day time babysitting so I could keep on working, and Bishop helped me pick out some clothes. I wouldn't have gotten through that first year without them." He explained.
She felt a pang of guilt. She wasn't exactly McGee's baby whisperer status but she could have been his shoulder to lean on, she was reliable and patient, she could have gotten stuck in, tried to make it easier on him, but instead she was across the globe on a mission that even she didn't fully understand.
"It sounds like everyone really looked out for you." She commented.
"They're my team." He agreed. "They had my back." A beat of silence passed. "I know you would have too, if you'd been here." How he wished she had been. Those nights, those sleepless nights, all he had done was wished that he had fought harder, convinced her to return to D.C. with him, or even stayed behind in Israel with her… it wouldn't have happened if she'd been around.
"I am sorry I was not."
Tony shook his head.
"For the longest time, I wished you had been here, I wished we had been together, but then I realised that would mean I wouldn't have her." He touched his hand to his chest. "She is my life. Amelia is my light in the dark, when everything else sucks, when we take on a case that's sick and twisted and just depraved, I come home and I look at that face, that innocence and everything is okay again."
A few more seconds of silence passed by before Tony licked his lips.
"You know, uh, after you l-" he couldn't say it again, he'd said the words too many times tonight, this wasn't about guilt tripping her, it wasn't about making her feel bad for making a mistake, her leaving hadn't been a mistake, he understood that now, she had done it because it was what she needed but she didn't need that anymore. "With you gone, everything seemed really hard. Every day seemed to pass by without anything really happening, so I started to pour everything I had into work. I'd arrive early, go home late, I gave my very best to every case, but you can only pour away so much of yourself before you start to become empty. I kept asking myself why? Why did I feel so empty? And then Amelia happened. And the emptiness started to fade. There was a little space in my life that started to fill back up again; the void was slowly disappearing with each day I spent with her. Each smile, each laugh, each step, they all added more and more until there was practically nothing left to fill."
"I am happy for you Tony." And it was true. She was.
"But," he added before she had time to consider how much her heart ached that he still had all that compassion inside of him when she knew that deep down she had essentially ruined him by leaving. "There's still a part of me that's missing, a part that's empty… you could fill it… if… if you wanted to?" And there he was, putting himself on the line once again. For a man as carefree and immature as he often presented himself, he loved deeply and he was not afraid to bare his soul for another to see.
The words seemed to echo around the room for a moment before he realised what he had said.
"Oh, geez, I…I'm sorry, that was really presumptuous of me, do you… are you involved?" he asked, he presented the words with confidence, just another question, but internally every word was laced with hesitancy, she couldn't say yes, she just couldn't.
"No, I am not." She affirmed.
"Oh well I-"
"I was." She added voluntarily. There was a small part of her that thought she did it to gloat, to prove that she had not spent the last ten years wandering no man's land all alone in search of her waning soul, but a larger part knew she was telling him because honesty was more important now than ever. "He was a good man. Liran was his name. He was a dentist and probably the most unassuming and ordinary man I have ever met." Ziva smiled at the memory. "We met by accident, we both reached for the same item in the grocery store."
"A little love over the vegetables!" Tony joked.
"Actually it was toothpaste."
"A dentist doesn't get free toothpaste? Now I know there's something wrong in the world." Tony huffed.
"Actually he got a lot of free toothpaste, turns out there was only one brand he liked! I let him have it, it was the last one, and in return he took me for coffee. We got to talking and things kind of went from there." She sighed. "I was never looking to meet someone. I did not think love was going to be a part of my life, not after… well, not once I said goodbye to you."
Tony silently nodded in understanding.
"So you did love him?" He questioned.
"Yes, I did love him, very much in fact."
"Then what happened?" Tony wondered aloud.
Ziva took a sip from her now cold mug of peppermint tea; she left the water in her mouth for a few moments too long, as though trying to improve the flavour on her pallet. She swallowed the tea and set her mug down again, placing her hands in her lap and fumbling her fingers over one another.
"He asked me to marry him." Ziva confided, she looked over at Tony and saw how he tried with little success to hide the look of shock and confusion on his face. "I never saw myself getting married," she continued to explain. "Before, I blamed my job, it was not exactly conducive to a good relationship, but then when I was free, I thought about it, I had the time to give, I had feelings… but I did not have the person I wanted. When he asked me, I knew right away that it was not right, but I told him I would think about it. That night, I had a dream, I was wearing the gown, walking down the aisle, I had my arm linked through a man's but I could not see his face. There was my groom, he was waiting for me at the end next to the alter, he had on a beautifully tailored suit and his shoes were the shiniest I had ever seen!" she laughed, drawing a chuckle from Tony, who knew her dreams would be so detailed. "But when he turned around, it was not Liran standing there." She stared at him with intense eyes, everything inside of her screamed out for him to kiss her, like that would make everything okay, like it would bring back the last ten years and cement them in a relationship that everyone knew was right. Tony closed his eyes and inhaled deeply; he opened them again and reached out for her hand.
"Ten years…" he whispered.
"I know. And I am sorry." She could feel her eyes welling up, tears were not something that flowed easily, they were not an emotion that it was okay to show, but with him, it had never been that way, she could be vulnerable, she could make mistakes and he would love her all the same.
"No." he stopped her, wrapping his fingers over hers and leaning his face just a little closer. "It took me a long time to understand it, maybe I didn't fully get it until Amelia came along, but I get it now. What you did… walking away… I spent so long thinking that it was because I couldn't be enough for you, that if maybe I'd done something different, said something different, stopped something from happening, that it might have turned out another way. But then, after I spoke to Amelia's mother, I was sitting up that night, cradling her as she slept in my arms, I was looking at that tiny, perfect face and thinking how does anyone walk away from that? That was when I figured out that it wasn't about being selfish, it was about being selfless. You walked away from me because you loved me in a way that was pure and kind and beautiful, but it wasn't right. I wasn't right. At least not then. You left because you needed something that you couldn't get here, you could have stayed because you loved me, and as much as that would have meant to me, it would eventually have driven us apart. You'd have resented me, or we'd have grown apart, inevitably I would have gone out and done something with some other woman I'd spend the rest of my life regretting and everything would have been screwed up." He tapped his finger to her cheek and smiled. "You wouldn't let that happen, you walked away because you knew it was right. I know how much it hurt me and I know that it hurt you too, but I had my family around me, the team, you walked away with nothing… you don't have to be sorry for being a stronger person."
A tear finally broke free and careered down her cheek until it made contact with his finger.
"I thought about you every day." She confessed a smile on her lips and more tears brimmed over her eyes lids.
"I did too." He admitted with a nod, leaning forward and pressing his warm lips to her forehead. "But it's not too late; we don't have to be done."
"We lost ten years." She reminded him.
"And when we have spent another forty together that will be like pocket change. Time doesn't always have to be about the number of years you get, it's about what you do with them, what you put into them, if I knew now I could only have one more year with you, I'd take it because I would make that the best year, we could make it the best year."
"You would let me back into your life that easily?" For Ziva, life had been about second guessing the motives of others, and Tony, despite having spent a huge number of years in a job that prompted him to do the same, he was not jaded enough by the actions of the few to let it mar his beliefs about the many.
"Always." He whispered. "I mean, obviously there are things to figure out, I sleep right there in your chair since my bedroom was taken over!" he laughed, pleased that it brought out a smile on her face.
"You did not think that was reason enough to find a new apartment?" she laughed lightly.
"Honestly?" he spoke. "I fell asleep in the damn thing so much it seemed to make sense to just hand over my room." He took a breath and his tone returned to serious. "Plus, I needed to make sure you could find me, if you ever came back."
She bowed her head a little.
"Listen, obviously things are a little more complicated now than they were before. You'll have to meet Amelia – properly," he smiled. "But, she'll love you, she loves meeting new people, she'll totally interrogate you, but you should be okay with that."
She nodded with a smile.
"I want this to work out Ziva; this is all I've ever wanted."
Ziva stood from the chair she was sitting in, forcing Tony to his feet too.
"Please don't say you're leaving." He spoke. "I know this is kind of full on but, you came to me, you told me you were home and I just thought-"
"You were right." She assured him. "I am home, and I do want this, you."
"Then where are you going?" He asked.
She smiled.
"I was going to come back and share the couch."
Tony shook his head and rubbed his eyes in relief.
"Oh, well then here, there's plenty of space." He sat back down with his hand extended.
"I do not need any more space." She whispered, settling herself next to him, pressing her body into his as he wrapped his arm around her and rested his chin on the crown of her head. He slowly breathed in her scent, closing his eyes and remembering moments they had shared like this before, so few and far between. But those days were gone. They were older, more mature. They'd been together and they'd been apart and somehow they had been connected throughout it all. As Ziva fell into a gentle sleep against him, he thought back to a story he heard, a myth about soul mates, how once upon a time they had been joined forever, only to be separated for fear that they were too powerful as one union. The two entities were doomed to troll the Earth seeking out the other part of them that had been lost, never knowing who they were truly looking for. If that story were true, he had no doubts that Ziva was his soul mate; right from the start she had always known him better than he had known himself, even with her absence she had come back and things felt as good as they did ten years ago. That didn't happen with just anyone. He'd always known Amelia would need a mother someday; he knew how Ziva felt about children and yet deep down he had wished she would be the one to muddle through parenthood with him. It was early days now, very early days, but he had a good feeling, a feeling Gibbs would have told him to follow. She was sticking around this time, for good, and they'd be okay, they'd make it, because they'd trolled the Earth, looked for something better and still come back to where they started. Their story had started, seemingly come to an end, only to turn out it was ready for a new chapter to begin. Their story was unfinished, and now they had the chance to make the ending they should have had ten years ago. If there was a better example of soul mates than that, he'd gladly challenge anyone to find it.