A/N: Okay, this is a longer chapter than the last, with an abundance of back-story. Please tell me if it makes enough sense to you when you read it, cause I'm no good at spotting inconsistencies, and I don't usually have anyone Beta-Read my stories. Hugs to my reviewers!!
-Kait
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The wait seemed endless to both Tony and Kazia, but finally it was time for Ziva to come home. The doctors had thought it best for her to stay with someone, just to keep an eye on her until she was fully recovered.
Gibbs, being Gibbs, and therefore an unquestionable authority, had told Ziva that she should stay with Tony–after all, Kazia already had settled herself in, and there was no sense in taking the risk by going home, that something might go wrong and no one would be around.
"Even if DiNozzo is a moron sometimes, he's not stupid." had been his reasoning.
Ziva had argued a bit, insisting that she could look after herself, but she finally gave in. Kazia really liked Tony after all. She couldn't think of a reason not to stay, anyway.
The drive back from the hospital was relatively quiet–except for Kazia voicing questions about various things every now and then.
Ziva seemed to be feeling pretty well–or at least she didn't let on otherwise, Tony thought, as she insisted she could get out of the car on her own.
Kazia eagerly bounced about the apartment, hovering around Ziva and making sure she was alright at every moment. Finally Tony convinced her to settle down and watch a movie in the living room, while he put on a pot of tea.
"So," Tony said slowly, setting a mug on his small kitchen table in front of Ziva. He hadn't said much today; he'd spent most of his time silently contemplating her, wondering how awkward it would be for him to start a conversation on the subject of Kazia's father.
Ziva gave a quiet, "Thanks." and played with her tea-bag absentmindedly. "So?" she asked after a moment of him quietly watching her. "I suppose you have questions."
Mind reading. Yet another skill taught at Mossad. He thought wryly.
"That, or–you already know the whole story. Gibbs probably filled you in when he told you when you found out you had to look after Kazia?" she muttered; it wasn't so much a question as an accepted, dull sounding statement.
"Actually, no." Tony replied slowly. "Gibbs didn't tell me anything."
She looked surprised, but nodded. "Better that way."
He frowned. "How so? It's not like I wouldn't like to know."
Ziva raised an eyebrow and pretended she wasn't clear on what he meant. "Know what?"
Tony looked at her, giving a confused half-smile. "But you just–? Never mind, forget it." he resolved. He didn't want to argue, but as curious as he was, he knew he could never force answers from Ziva if she wasn't willing to give them.
They were silent.
"It was a covert operation." Ziva sighed finally, seeming loathe to tell the story, but knowing that she needed to give him his answers.
Tony sat up straighter, listening intently.
"I was young, but, apparently I fit the profile Mossad needed for this particular mission. My father didn't have any objection if it would get the information that we needed. I did what they wanted. I seduced the target, Demetri Barron, half French, half Israeli, mostly a surprisingly charming son-of-a-bitch. I led him to believe that I loved him, that we needed each other, convinced him that he could tell me anything."
Tony nodded. "That's when you–"
Ziva shook her head. "The pregnancy was...unplanned, but he was...thrilled."
"You weren't."
Ziva silenced him with a sharp look. "My father ordered me to end the mission and give them what I knew already. Slip away and leave him to wonder.
"I had enough intel from Barron, and communications he'd made, that Mossad could use it in order to bust a terrorist cell, possibly preventing what could have been a devastating attack. I got out as fast as I could. Unfortunately we didn't have enough on Barron personally to detain him, though several of his accomplices were charged for their crimes, and eventually executed."
"Guessing he wasn't too 'thrilled' with you about that." Tony chuckled wryly.
"Not at all. I was ordered to stay in a safe-house until Kazia's birth, and several weeks later, I was informed that he was another operative working on the case–though he'd eventually turned on his agency." Ziva took a tired breath. "Despite what he knew, and all he had lead me to believe, we had originally been on the same mission to apprehend the same terrorists. But to him, I was the enemy target, and to me, he was the same.
"Then we heard...of his death." her gaze was clouded now, conflicted. "Now that he was no longer a threat, it seemed ironic." she tried to think of a way to phrase what she was about to say, then rushed on. "He'd taken part in a suicide bombing. It had been part of his cover– though he hadn't imagined it could go that far–the leader of the cell detonated all of the bombs with a remote, so that cowards wouldn't be able to get cold toes and desert." She sniffed, though she had resolved long ago that tears were useless.
"Cold feet." Tony corrected softly, not sure if he should comfort her or not. He hesitantly reached across the table and took her hand softly.
She had been younger then, not as experienced as she should have been. The whole thing had gotten to her, and on some level she had formed an attachment to Demetri, and he'd been torn away, like so many others in her life. She sniffed again, blinking back the tears that she'd sworn she wouldn't shed for Demetri.
He was silent for a moment, but squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I'm sorry, Ziva. I wouldn't have asked you if I'd knew this would make things harder on you."
She squeezed his hand in return, forcing a weak smile. "I never had anything against Kazia, for the events proceeding her birth, or for her father's faults. I want you to know that. I just wasn't ready to give up my life when she came along. I understand now that she's more important than my work--though I'm not going anywhere."
"You didn't have to explain everything. I accepted that you didn't want to." he told her.
"No. I did have to. I should have trusted you to know before this happened. I trusted you enough to take care of her."
Tony fixed her with an intent stare. "Why?"
She pulled her hand from his slowly, and watched him for a moment. "I don't know." she got up and put her tea mug into the kitchen sink. "I need a shower." she resolved, and turned to leave the room.
Feeling he needed to lighten the mood, Tony called after her, "Want me to come with you and make sure you don't pass out or something?"
She made a face from the doorway, then smiled, she had almost thought he was being serious at first. "I'll be okay, thanks."
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