Hey guys, thank you so much for the reviews and the nice things you've said! Sorry it's taken me so long to upload this next chapter, I've had exams to revise for. Thanks for still reading, enjoy! :)
PS as a sidenote, I'm from England and so use English spellings for some words that are spelled different in other countries :)
Waking up, it took Tony a moment to realise what day it was; what day it should have been. His mother's birthday. It was always a sore day for Tony, all of his anger and upset about his mother dying manifested itself at once. He wanted so much to be happy all of the time, for Ziva more than anything else, but today he knew he couldn't face her without being upset. He got dressed in gym clothes and took off for a run.
Looking up as he exits the block, Tony notices properly for the first time the clear skies and sunshine that have been residing over DC for the last few days. After 2 weeks of sharing both a home and their lives, Tony was really beginning to enjoy having Ziva so close. They did everything together, and he wanted it to last. So much, that he pretended not to notice when the rain stopped and the floods began to subside.
He knew that eventually, Ziva would return to her apartment and they would, most likely, return to just being friends who occasionally saw each other outside of work. Tony didn't want this, he wanted to be much more. The most you could be with another person, in fact. He resolved that at some point he would have to talk about his feelings with Ziva, but not today. Not on a day like today.
A few hours later, Tony checked his phone; 3 missed calls and a text from Ziva. "Where are you? You were up and gone before i woke up x " On a normal day, Tony would have spent hours analysing the significance of the kiss, and how many it would be appropriate to send back, but instead he sat down on a nearby bench and took a picture of his mother out of his pocket. She was so beautiful, very different from Tony himself as he'd grown up to look. Without his father to rely on when he was younger, his mum had became the one person he could always be with. When she died, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he'd felt betrayed. She was the one person he thought would never leave him.
He'd spent the rest of his life since that moment with serious trust issues, and searching out anyone that reminded him of his mother. It was her resemblance to his mother that had first attracted him to EJ, and many other long haired blondes before her. He'd never, however, found the security he's so desperately sought until Ziva. After Paris, their relationship had evolved, and he knew that he could now count on her for anything.
Tony decided to return home, to speak to Ziva and also to get ready for his birthday ritual.
As Tony reached his front door, he braced himself for what was to come next. He knew Ziva would be angry with him for not letting her know where he'd gone, and Ziva angry was not something he enjoyed. He pulled the door open quietly, not wanting to irritate her any more, and was immediately greeted by Ziva flinging an arm around his neck. "I was so worried! You have been gone for hours! You could have been lying in a ditch dead for all that I knew!" Ziva used her other hand to hit him in the chest, before letting go of him. He allowed his eyes to linger on her lips for a few moments, before she sat on the couch.
"So where have you been?" Ziva asked him, "Listen to me, I sound like your wife! It is none of my business where you were, I would just appreciate some kind of notification as to where you go so that I know not to worry."
"You're right, you don't!" Tony snapped, instantly regretting it. He shouldn't vent his frustration on other people, especially Ziva. "I'm sorry, Hey" he catches her gaze, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be getting angry at you, today's just difficult for me. And I'm sorry that I didn't feel like sharing it with you either."
"We are supposed to be friends, Tony." Ziva looked hurt. "If something is upsetting you then I would like to think that you would talk to me about it, rather than running off."
"What, like you talked to me about Somalia?" Tony's voice raised, slowly turning their exchange into an argument, "It only took you FOUR YEARS to share that with me. I don't owe you anything; I travelled thousands of miles to save you when everyone else had given you up for dead! And after you treated me so badly in Tel Aviv. You nearly shot me, ME! Your partner! The one man on this planet who would do absolutely anything for you, killed a man for trying to play you, and you just threw it back in my face! I followed you round like a lovesick puppy for all of these years, never pressing you for any details, and now you have the audacity to question me?" Tony looked across at Ziva, and saw that she was sobbing silently. He couldn't believe what he'd been saying, and what this day had done to him. "I'm sorry, it's just today. I need to get out of here before I say any more. I didn't mean to upset you, believe me that's the last thing I'd ever want to do. I have to go, I'm sorry."
Tony grabbed a jacket and prepared to leave, his mother's picture dropping from his pocket as he moved towards the door.
Every year on his mother's birthday, Tony headed to a movie theatre downtown that played classic movies every evening. Tonight, it was playing Gone with the Wind, a cinematic masterpiece, and his mother's favourite movie. He took a seat near the back of the room and settled down. As the opening music began to play, he heard the door open. Someone was moving down the row towards him. Ziva. "I found the picture, I am sorry," she said as she sat down next to him.
Tony took her hand in the darkness.
