He entered the Navy lodge Ziva was staying at because her apartment had been destroyed and she hadn't found a new one yet and searched for the right room number. It wasn't that Tony wanted to harass her or something or cause her pain, of course not, but he knew Ziva. She would never talk about it if no one made her. But burying it deep inside her wasn't good either.

Well, he was one to talk. He hadn't actually shared his feelings about the whole Jeanne disaster with anyone either. But it wasn't comparable. Hurting over a lost love was totally different than being tortured for months and losing faith in everything you once believed in. At least, Tony assumed that was what had happened and how Ziva had felt. It was hard to tell as long as she wasn't talking.

Perhaps he wasn't the ideal person to try and talk to her with his involvement in Rivkin's death and all, but he couldn't wait for Gibbs to do it and he really wanted to do it himself. He didn't want Ziva to be hurting and he wanted her to trust him again. After their conversation in the men's room Tony had gotten the impression that they were both willing to leave that whole Rivkin dilemma behind them.

Therefore, Tony knocked on her door now and waited for Ziva to open up. "Tony, what are you doing here?" she asked as soon as she did, not exactly sounding thrilled to see him.

"Serving dinner," Tony still replied and held up the Chinese take-outs he had brought along.

"I already ate," Ziva said though.

Tony shrugged. "Alright then, more for me." And he hurried to squeeze himself past her and into the room. He heard Ziva sigh and close the door behind him. "Nice room," he commented while placing the food on the table.

"It is sufficient until I find a new apartment," Ziva agreed in her nonchalant manner.

"Yeah, give me a call when you finally move," Tony said while searching for the box with the Chop Suey.

Ziva walked towards him. "Why? You want to carry the sofa up the stairs for me?" Her scepticism was clearly audible in her voice.

"No, obviously that's more the part for Gibbs and McGee to take care of. I was thinking more about… helping you decorate and arrange your DVD collection."

They looked at each other and shared an amused smile. But it didn't last long.

"Why did you come here, Tony?" Ziva asked, sounding serious again.

Tony shrugged. "Like I said. To eat and talk."

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "Talk about what?"

"Oh, the usual, weather, work, weeks worth of imprisonment at Saleem's camp…"

"How often do I have to tell you that it is none of your business, Tony?" Ziva snapped immediately. "Tell me now so that we can get over it already!"

"Sure, I could do that or you could simply tell me what happened," Tony insisted.

"Why? Why do you want to know?"

Tony shook his head. "It's not about me wanting to know, Ziva. It's about you being given the chance to talk about it."

Ziva rolled her eyes at him. "But I do not want to talk about it, Tony!"

"No, you prefer to beat everyone up because you don't know what else to do with all that pent-up anger. It will eat you from the inside out. That's what's going to happen!"

Ziva gave a humourless laugh. "Oh, since when do you have a degree in psychological profiling, Tony?"

"You don't have to be Ducky to realize what's going on with you, Ziva," he told her.

"Fine, then tell me this," Ziva hissed, stepping closer to him. "Why should I tell you of all people?"

Tony hadn't intended for this to get so out of hand, but he, too, bristled with anger now. "Why? Here's a newsflash for you, Ziva. I was the one responsible for us coming to rescue you!"

"But no one asked you to do that!" Ziva shot back, her eyes ablaze now.

"Yeah?" Tony shook his head. "Then I should have just let you die there?"

"Perhaps."

That made him pause. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice already a lot calmer.

"You do not understand."

Tony banged his fist on the table. "Then make me understand, dammit!"

"When I went to kill Saleem, I knew it was a suicide mission, okay? I knew the best case scenario would include me being able to kill him before his men would terminate me."

"Then why didn't you tell Daddy to go to hell or do it himself?" Tony asked in disbelief.

Ziva shook her head. "That's not how it works, Tony. I was given a direct order – to kill Saleem at all costs – and I was trained to follow them."

"That's crap!"

"No, it is what it is. Don't you get it? I am a killer, Tony. Raised and trained to kill without hesitation, without compassion, without remorse. I had nothing to lose and I figured it was as good a way to end it like any other."

Tony stared at her and slowly shook his head. "See, it's good that I'm here because you don't even realize how much control your father had over you, what he did to you. You went to get yourself killed without even thinking about… anyone else."

Ziva seemed to calm down now as well and instead of anger there was only emptiness in her expression which was almost worse. "Like whom?" she asked.

"Well…" Tony hesitated. "There's Abby."

"Abby?"

"Yes, she was devastated when we had to assume you were dead," Tony remembered. "And Ducky, of course, feeling helpless because there was nothing he could do to ease her sadness. McGee, missing the one person he could complain to about my childishness, and Gibbs… well… being Gibbs, always suffering in silence like a true hero."

Ziva was silent for a few seconds, trying to handle these descriptions of how lost the team had been without her. "I did regret never being able to see them again. But I thought they would get over me eventually, especially considering the circumstances of how I left."

"No, that didn't matter anymore," Tony immediately replied. "They wouldn't have gotten over you. They would have been forced to miss you for the rest of their lives. Of course, they only realized that when they thought they had lost you forever."

They looked at each other and Ziva finally replaced 'they' with what he was actually talking about. "Well, you shouldn't feel like that because you finally have to understand something. I am a killer, Tony. I was not trained to feel anything."

"And you finally have to understand that's crap," Tony didn't hesitate to respond. "You've never been only a killer. And even if you had, what happened in Somalia changed you. I can't even begin to imagine what you must have gone through those four months at Saleem's camp and I just don't want you to bury it along with your other feelings."

"Why?" Ziva merely asked.

"Because it's like you said. I've always had your back, Ziva, and always will… Oh, and of course, because I realized I can't live without you when I thought you were dead," Tony added in a hurry before he would lose his nerve to do it. "When I thought you were gone, everything else lost its meaning, too. I know you had reasons to question my motives, but I know now that everything I did, I did because you are the single most important person in my life right now."

Ziva looked at him for a long time without giving away anything. "I don't know whether I am ready for this now, Tony," she finally said. "Whether you believe it or not, I have been trained to suppress personal feelings and to follow orders above anything else. I have not been more than a killing machine – without heart and without soul.

But you are also right. Somalia changed things. I learned certain truths about my father, myself and the life he had made me live. And I went there to die. And though I am still alive because you and Gibbs saved me, there is a part of me that is dead and the rest of me will need a lot of healing to live on and perhaps to come to terms with what it is that I am feeling for you."

"I understand," Tony said softly and dared to take her hands into his. "And all I'm asking is for you to let me help you with that. I know you said you couldn't afford to trust me after Ari and Rivkin, but I was hoping we could work on that."

Ziva shook her head. "There is no need. I was wrong not to trust you. You were always there for me, Tony. You were always on my side. I simply failed to realize that until I had those four months to think about everything, to realize who really had betrayed me and who I wished I could see again before I died."

"I hope I was among the latter," Tony couldn't help joking a little.

Ziva smiled softly. "Of course, you were."

"Well, seems we both learned something over the course of this summer then," he said and looked at the beautiful Israeli who was both incredibly strong and secretly vulnerable at the same time. "Where does that leave us now?"

"Right here," Ziva said, gently caressing his cheek. "Together and willing to work out our feelings for each other."

Usually, Tony would have long since made a move and simply kissed her. But he had never before been in a situation like this and Ziva was not like any other woman, though at this very moment Tony wasn't concerned that she would hurt him, but the other way around because he had never seen her as vulnerable as this.

"So, how exactly do we do that?" he therefore asked carefully.

Ziva looked at him and then took his face in her hands to place a gentle but incredibly sweet kiss on his lips. "Give me some time," she whispered.

Tony smiled and caressed a strand of dark hair out of her beautiful face. "For you I would wait until I grow old and die," he said and gently pulled her towards the sofa.

There they sat down and Tony put an arm around her while Ziva rested her head on his shoulder. He would give her the time she needed. Usually, if he had told a woman something like 'I'd do anything for you', it had been a bunch of crap. But not this time. Everything was different with Ziva. Sure, he wanted to be with her, but first he wanted her to heal.

Tony knew they weren't even halfway there, but he was glad that Ziva had allowed him to come this close.

One step at a time, Tony thought and placed a kiss on Ziva's forehead.