First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for their reviews. I really wasn't expecting such a response with this story, especially as My Girl is still going on, and I ended up with 38 reviews for the first chapter alone. I really am stunned. Thank you so much. I've been having a hard time (hence so much writing time) and your reviews really do bring a smile to my face every time I check my email. Really, thank you so, so much.

I should also point out that this story won't be nearly as long as My Girl. I have actually come up with a plot for this one (well, a beginning and an end, at least) so it may be open to a sequel, based on the response for this one. Because of the good response for the first two chapters, I have to say I'm now really nervous about posting the rest up in case it doesn't meet expectations!

Really, though, thank you so much. Please continue to review, because it would brighten my day so much and more reviews mean faster updates (especially seeing as I've got seven chapters written ahead!)

Sam

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Chapter Three:

Tony had no child seat in the car, so he had made sure he drove carefully as Ziva held the baby to her chest. He was no longer sleeping, but simply relaxing back against her chest, playing with a small stuffed animal that she had taken from her bag. It was a small dog that was already brown, but looked discoloured, although it wasn't clear whether that was from Shai's ritualistic chewing of the dog's ear, or whether it was more the fact that it hadn't seen cleaning products since it had first been handed to him. The drive to Tony's apartment wasn't long, but it seemed hours longer than usual because of the silence, only broken by the occasional Hebrew mumblings that Ziva directed to her child. When they got to his place, he got out first. Ziva hadn't moved, staring out of the windscreen at the road ahead of her and not noticing that it hadn't moved. She continued to stare ahead until Tony opened the door on her side, causing her to snap out of her troubled mind and look up at him.

"We're here," he said simply. She nodded, unplugging the safety belt and reaching down to grab her bag. "It's okay, I got it," Tony told her, taking the bag before she could argue and looking confused when she didn't.

She moved the baby to her hip, making sure that the plush dog was still in his grasp and not on the bottom of Tony's car, and followed Tony up to his apartment. It went back to being silent, because neither knew what to say to fill the gap of the past fifteen months. Two hours ago, Tony hadn't even known if she was alive, let alone where she was, and now she was here, with a baby, helplessly begging for their protection. He didn't know what, exactly, had happened to her back in Israel, but he knew that it had affected her enough for her usually instinctive reflexes to abandon her. It was why the silence was so thick; Tony barely spoke when something was bothering him, and Ziva rarely let anyone know what was really going on inside her head regardless of the situation, so the combination of their usual stubbornness drowned them in the elevator.

She'd hesitated in his doorway, watching him unlock the door with his keys. She frowned, watching the movements of his hands. A long time ago, the investigator and Mossad assassin side of her would have wanted to check it over for signs of forced entry, just in case her father was a step closer to her than she assumed and had already figured out who and where she had run to, even the tiniest giveaway that she wasn't as safe as they assured her. The likelihood was that he would come in person to find her, rather than trust any of his men. Still, the Mossad knew better. Her father wouldn't have left any signs behind when leaving a scene, unlike the unconscious bodies of half-poisoned staff that she had left at her father's home when she fled. Tony unlocked the door, opening it and entering himself first, with his weapon in his hand. He must have had the same fears as she did, because he told her to remain by the door until he had checked the entire apartment. When he came back, closing the door behind her, his weapon was away, ensuring her that there was no threat to her child here.

It was only once the door close behind them that either of them really found their voices, coincidentally at the same time.

"Ziva-"

"I am sorry."

He looked at her, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door. He made to offer hers, but she was simply wearing a zip-up sweatshirt over her t-shirt, and with it being near the end of December, she was probably already cold enough. "You don't have anything to be sorry for," he told her.

"I do," she nodded. "I said I would call." He stopped where he was, looking down at her rather than beckoning her into the living room as he had planned. "You told me to call you so you were sure the plane had landed safely, and to tell you whether or not I would need a lift home from the airport when I arrived back."

He flashbacked to the memory of them saying goodbye at the airport. Yes, he had made her promise to call him the second the plane had landed so that he knew she was okay. He did it when she was driving home usually on a rainy night, too, just to make sure that her crazy driving hadn't gotten her or anyone else killed. She hadn't called him when the plane had landed, obviously. "It's okay," he assured her with a smile. "I had McGee check the flight details when you didn't call, so I knew you'd landed okay, at least. I just figured you were pleased to see your father and you just forgot."

"I was," she confirmed. "At first."

His gentle smile dripped. "What did he do to you, Ziva?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

She shook her head. "He would say things…and he would…he would not let return," she told him. "He terminated my position with NCIS while I was in flight. Then he signed me up for an undercover mission which I was unable to take."

"Because of the baby?" he assumed.

"Yes," she confirmed. "It was a long term mission, and my pregnancy would have compromised my cover, if I had lived that long."

His eyes darkened at that thought, but he didn't ask any more questions when some innocent gurgles from Shai interrupted them. He sounded like he was trying to talk, to join in the grown ups conversation that was happening around him. Ziva kissed his forehead, paying close attention to her son's eyes as he explored their new surroundings. When he felt the lips on his head, he smiled, rubbing his face against her cheek, causing Ziva to smile gently in return. "How old is he?" Tony asked, watching the soft interaction.

"Six months and four days," she recited instantly.

"Accurate," he observed.

"I had little else to do than to watch him grow," she told him, still not taking her eyes off her son.

Tony nodded, still watching them both. She had been gone for fifteen months. Her son was six months old. Six months of life…nine months of pregnancy…no, stop. He shook himself. Ziva had been through enough without him bombarding her with his questions. He burrowed all questions to the back of his mind, and put a hand on her back, leading her down the hall. "Come on," he told her, "I don't have a spare room, but you guys can sleep in my room for as long as you need to," he offered.

He waited for her to insist otherwise; for her to tell him that the offer was kind but she would feel better in her own apartment, as it was still available to her, but she didn't. She just nodded and muttered a "thank you" in a small voice. Inside his bedroom, he placed their bag down on the floor, beside the dresser where he kept his own belongings. Ziva stood near the bed, looking around her.

"Are you hungry?" he offered. "I've got food, but we can order something in if you want. I know it's early, but you look half starved." Her look at him told him that she probably was. "What about Shai?"

"I am still breast feeding," she told him. "I was not given the chance to try him on more solid foods yet."

"What about clothes and everything?" he asked. "It's December, and after being in Israel for so long you're going to start feeling the cold soon, especially Shai, and it's gonna be really cold tonight anyway."

"I have some changes of clothes for us both," she said, nodding to the bag. "With blankets, Shai will be fine."

He nodded. "Okay." He wanted her for a moment, taking her in. She was back. She was really back, and standing in his bedroom. She wasn't back in the way he'd expected, but the fact that she was here and alive was enough. She was broken, sure enough, things had happened in Israel that had changed her, shattered her spirit, but they could fix that. They could fix broken, but they couldn't fix dead. Broken was better than dead. After all, she was his partner, who else knew her better than he did? He'd worked with her for four years before she left, that was much longer than he worked with Kate. He couldn't deny that he knew more about Kate's personal life than Ziva's, though. Mind you, Kate's personal details were discovered when he had personally sought them out by any means necessary. He couldn't do that with Ziva. He couldn't go through her PDA or her trash because she never left any trace of personal connections. It was only when Gibbs had retired temporarily and they had grown closer as friends, rather than co-workers, that he had learned the odd detail about her. Sometimes, she'd let it slip, and other times he'd have to bed and plead for some scrap of childhood truth or innocence from her, but the fact that she'd end up telling him made him feel one step closer to her true being every time.

Inside, he knew that there was a young girl, a little girl who'd lost her mother at the age of nine (she's told him that on the anniversary of his mother's death, when he had snapped at her for no reason and she'd understood why), a little girl who had lost her sister unfairly (she'd told him that the second time they had properly met, seeking shelter outside the Embassy hotel in the rain), and the little girl who had realised the hard way that daddy wasn't perfect. She hadn't told him that last one, but he had seen it in her eyes when they were first locked up in the shipping container on the dock, and it was something that had been further backed up by everything she'd revealed so far that day. It didn't matter how much she tried to guard it, she had started letting him into her soul that day, letting him slip past her walls step by step, and he proceeded to walk closer ever since.

She was dressed now in grubby clothes, covered in stains of what could only be baby vomit; her usual combat trousers and a jewel coloured blue top that had faded a little with age. Her hair was longer, all layers and her fringe had grown out into the main bulk of her hair, which was curly, like it used to be, but he remembered she'd been wearing it straight when she left. She looked like a scared child, holding onto her son and not knowing what else to do. He realised then that he didn't know much about her family life in Israel, but he knew that someone who's entire life and career had been about helping people shouldn't have had to go through what she did. She should have had a normal life, a life where standing in a normal bedroom with her son didn't seem strange and unreal to her.

"You wanna take a shower or a bath while I sort us out with some food?" he asked her. In a true un-Ziva fashion, she bit her lip in hesitation, looking down at Shai. "I'll watch Shai." She still didn't look convinced. "You look exhausted, Zi," he told her softly, stepping into her personal space and putting a hand on her back. "It's okay. He's safe with me. So are you. I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you, okay?"

She was silent for a moment, before nodding. She had come to DC because she knew that her son would be safe with her friends. And Tony was right, Shai was safe with him. She knew from watching them together in autopsy earlier that Tony was capable of keeping him amused for a short while, so that she could wash away any holds that the last fifteen months had on her. "Okay," she nodded.

"Okay," he repeated. "I'll leave some warm clothes of mine out for you, to save on laundry," he told her.

She nodded, and then reluctantly passed Shai over to him. He fussed momentarily, but Ziva kissed his forehead. "Hush, my son, you are safe," she assured him. Shai settled at her voice, and sighed as he rested his head on Tony's shoulder, right near the base of his neck. "He is tired," she noted. "If you stroke the back of his neck, like this," she demonstrated, gently trailing the back of her finger along from the base of his neck to his hairline, "he should go to sleep easily." She removed her hand, and Tony picked up the action. "He likes that," she mused. "It relaxes him."

"Figures," he half laughed, the rise and fall of his chest jogging the baby, who grasped a handful of his shirt between his fingers and then settled again.

"What?" she asked, a frown of confusion replacing the nervous look from before.

"I remember that it relaxes you as well," he said.

The look in her eyes told him that the taboo had been broken. Things that he had wanted to talk about when she first arrived back had at first been withheld, because there were more important things at hand. If she had turned up, apologizing because she did some missions for Mossad, he'd have taken her to one side and had this conversation immediately, but instead, she had turned up frightened and unsure, holding a child like she as afraid to let him go, and actually asking him to save them. Things needed sorting out first; like making sure that she was here to stay and that her health, as well as her son's, was in good shape. She just stared at him, and he had to look hard for the gentle tugging of the corners of her lips, a ghost of a smile that there was no real time for. He boldly leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead and allowing himself a moment to linger when he heard her sigh. She placed a hand on his chest, beside where her son lay, and he pulled his lips back, returning them in for one quick, chaste encounter to her forehead again before guiding her in the direction of the bathroom.

"Take as long as you want," he invited her, pushing open the bathroom door. "There's no girly shampoo or anything, but you can use what you want. Make yourself at home." She nodded numbly, looking at Shai who was getting sleepier and sleepier by the second. "He'll be fine," he assured her, following her gaze. "I promise I won't let him out of my arms, let alone my sight," he said.

This settled her nerves. "If you promise," she whispered.

--------

He'd lingered halfway down the hall when he heard the bathroom door close behind her. He wasn't being perverted, like the old Ziva would probably have accused him of, but rather waiting for the reassuring sound of water running. Then, he set about making her comfortable. He knew that she never showered for longer than fifteen minutes, because it usually fit in with her running schedule before work, but who knew how long she'd want to wash away the troubles she bore on her shoulders? He set out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt on his bed for her and then went into the kitchen, turning on the kettle, blaming his need for coffee on working with Gibbs for too long. His cell phone rang, and he answered it quickly to avoid disturbing the almost asleep baby in his arms.

"DiNozzo," he answered.

"Ah, Anthony, it's only me," Ducky's voice said.

"Hi, Ducky. Everything okay?" he asked.

"I haven't heard from Gibbs, if that is what you are asking," he revealed. Tony sighed. "Actually, my call concerns Ziva."

"Did you want to speak to her? Only she's just gone for a shower-"

"No, it is best I speak with you," Ducky cut him off. "She was insistent that she was fine, but I did notice several things. The most important being that she is malnourished, so I would not go filling her with those unhealthy pizzas that you adore."

The pizza menu that was in his hands ended up being stuffed back into the drawer. "Oh, right."

"Although, if you insist on Italian food, might I recommend that pasta dish you made for Abigail's gathering last month."

He couldn't remember what he'd made, but he was sure he could whip up some pasta dish. "Yeah, no problem. Anything else?"

"She will certainly be feeling the cold this evening, so ensure that both her and the baby are kept warm. I would turn up the thermostat, but not too much - an overheated baby is not a happy baby. And if the baby has never been in a climate so different from Israel, he will need time to adjust," Ducky instructed.

"Right. Food. Warm. Got it."

"Also, I know that you are very pleased to have her back -" That was an understatement. "-but do not rush things, Anthony. She will not be the same Ziva we once knew for a while, so do not expect her to be up to scratch with your usual banter for a while. Her tolerance will be different and she has many concerns on her shoulders. She is a mother now, after all. Allow her time to rest, and to heal. She has never been away from her son, so do not go offering to disappear with him for a day to give her some time to herself. It must go at her pace, not the pace at which you want her to be back to normal."

Tony sighed. "I wanted her back, Ducky…" he admitted. "But like this?"

"Chin up, my boy, she will be fine," he assured her. "After all, this is Ziva. Regardless of the situation, she is strong willed. I have no doubts that she will be all right."

"Thanks, Ducky."

"That is quite all right. No doubt I will speak to you again this evening, but if I do not, have a merry Christmas."

"You as well," Tony returned.

"I trust I will still see you tomorrow for lunch?"

"Yeah, I'll speak to Ziva in the morning and see how she feels about coming to see everyone," he said, remembering the plan of everyone going to Ducky's for Christmas lunch, as no one was travelling to see their families this year.

When he hung up, he resisted the urge to throw his cell phone across the room, but if he did that it would break and Gibbs would yell at him. It was only when he noticed a pair of eyes watching him that he instead put the cell phone down on the table. Shai was looking up at him, no longer tempted into sleep but curiously watching him. Tony watched him back. The sound of boiling water interrupted their staring contest, and he put the water into one of the mugs he'd set out, leaving the other unattended; he'd come back and add water to that when Ziva was ready for it, otherwise it'd be stone cold when she got to it. He noticed how Shai's head whipped in different directions as he listened to the sounds around him; coffee being stirred, cutlery clinking, the kettle hissing…had he even heard these sounds before?

"I bet your momma talks to you in Hebrew a lot, don't she?" Tony spoke aloud to the little boy, seeing as he was no longer tired.

Shai gurgled some baby-response.

"Yeah, I thought so. I can't really do that, 'cause I don't speak Hebrew. I know the words she says all the time, though…Shalom. I know Shalom. That means 'hello', you know. Well, I think it does. I think it means 'goodbye' as well. And I know 'ani hoev otkha' because she used to say that a lot. I don't think I have to tell you what it means though, do I? I bet she says it to you ten times a day. She said it in Hebrew, and I'd say it in Italian. You know what it is in Italian?"

Shai just gurgled.

"Nice try, but you're wrong. It's 'ti amo'. See, much easier to say, isn't it?"

Again, Shai gurgled.

"Well, your pronunciation's a bit off, but I think you'll get it eventually."

At this, Shai turned his face into Tony's shoulder, throwing his full weight against the man holding him.

"So, you are tired, you were just faking before?" Tony realised.

Shai mumbled against his shoulder.

"Yeah, I thought so."

He took his coffee cup in his free hand and walked into the living room. Before he passed the wall completely, he reached over and turned the thermostat on, hearing the boiler jump into life in the closet beside the bathroom. He sat down on the couch, getting Shai more comfortable against him so that he could keep his promise to Ziva and keep the boy in his arms. Once they were settled, he did what Ziva told him, and stroked the back of his finger up and down his neck. Instantly, the boy moulded against him, and it wasn't long before he was fast asleep, his baby breath beating against his chest.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed Tony talking to Shai! It reminded me of watching my brother with my cousin when he was a baby (all grown up and 2 now, bless him!) they just used to talk to each other even though neither one of them understood the other. Kinda funny, but also sweet!