It has been a mentally trying few days and I cannot wait for the three days I get off over Christmas.

I absolutely hate the last section of this. I hate its placement and I hate how it sounds and I simply hate it, but I could not for the life of me rewrite it to work.

Chapter Ten

Monday, September 24th 2007– 25 weeks

"Yo, Duck Man, you down here?!" Tony called as he walked into Autopsy.

"Of course I am down here. Where else would I be, Anthony?" Ducky was sat staring intently at a body on a slab. "What can I help you with?"

"Nothing, just thought I should come down here, check on how things are, how you're doing."

"Hmm… I would hazard a guess that you are down here because our dear Ziva has kicked you out of the squad room. Third time this month."

"When are the mood swings gonna stop, Ducky?" He whined, sounding exhausted and Ducky looked at him with pity.

"A few months yet, dear boy. She hasn't stopped ignoring you yet?"

"No." He shook his head and climbed up onto the slab next to the one the body was on. She had been ignoring him ever since she left the morning after their night of lovemaking. After the first two nights sleeping next to her had felt uncomfortable, especially when she flinched at his touch, he had moved back onto her couch. He just wanted to know what was wrong. She would not even tell him that. "I want to help her, Ducky. I really do. I want to be there for her, but it's so hard."

"I know." He walked over and patted Tony's shoulder.

"Do you think I hurt her? Do you think that's why she can barely stand to look at me?" Ducky knew what he was talking about. After she had kicked him out of the bullpen the first time, he had gone down to Ducky and explained everything.

"No, Dear Boy. I think she's very confused at the moment. She's trying to work out whether you're really going to be there for her, and I think she's struggling with the idea that you really do want more than just sex." Little did Tony know that Ducky was not only his confidant; Abby had, on many occasions over the past weeks, visited Autopsy with concerns for the couple, along with McGee and almost every other individual in the building (although many of the concerns of others did not revolve around the couple – Ducky simply always seemed to be the best person when it came to solving personal problems. And case related problems. Just problems, really).

"But of course I am there for more than just sex! I thought she knew that!"

"And I think she probably does, deep down, but you have to remember that that is not a concept that comes easily to her. She has spent her whole life only seeing things as business transactions. A favour for a secret, a secret for a favour. To her the idea that you could want nothing more than her love is alien. She is trying to work out what you gain from it." He explained, pouring two cups of tea. "For her, love is such an abstract concept that is forbidden. Her father taught her that love was a weakness, so she thinks that loving you, and allowing you to love her back, makes her very weak indeed. Of course, we both know that is not true, but even if she comes to accept that it is not a weakness, she will take a lot of time to get out of the habit of telling herself it is."

"I'm worried about her."

"Officer David can take care of herself."

"You believe that crap, Ducky?" He snapped. "Sorry." He sighed when the older man did not even look hurt. The pathologist had grown used to his harsh temper after the increase in hours he had been spending in Autopsy.

"That's quite alright, Anthony. You are under a lot of stress. As to whether I believe that Officer David can take care of herself…" He paused and sat back down next to the body. "She knows how to fight. She knows how to kill. She knows how to defend herself. She knows how to stick up for herself. Now she knows how to investigate. She's learning to sympathise. As to whether she can take care of herself as a mother, a single mother at that, I am not so sure. As I have told Jethro, Ziva is a fast learner and fast to adapt. But that does not mean that we cannot worry about her."

"You think we've got cause to worry about her?"

"Do you?"

"Sorry little one. I know, I know. There was no need to kick me now, was there?" Ziva sighed, one hand on her bump as she stretched up to the top shelf of the cupboards in the break room. She was as close to the counter as she could get with her stomach in the way. Her fingers grazed the new pack of paper towelling, only serving to push it back further into the recesses of the cupboard. "Damn!" She dropped back down from her tiptoes and ran the hand, which had been reaching up, over her face. "You know, I never had a problem reaching that shelf before I got pregnant. You are too big, baby." She knew she was not as big as she was going to get, and that thought made her groan. The hand on her stomach shifted slightly and she let out a small, sharp breath. "Do not worry, Baby. I know you are still there. You sure know how to kick."

"Just like his mother." Gibbs said from behind her, a smile in his voice. He nudged her out of the way and plucked the paper towels out of the cupboard.

"Her mother. I am having a girl." She glared at him. They had this debate every day.

"Whatever you say." He just shrugged and turned so his back was leaning against the counter, proffering the pack of paper towelling. "It's okay to ask for help, y'know."

"Gibbs, I do not need any help."

"Everyone needs a little help from time to time. You're no exception to that." He smiled. "You're a strong, confident, beautiful young woman, Ziva, and I know that you've been through stuff that most people couldn't even imagine, but even then, you can't do this alone."

"Gibbs…"

"Ziva. Let him help you. Don't shut him out."

"What? Who? Tony?! I do not shut him out!"

"Two weeks ago you were upset because he was shutting you out. Now that he has opened up to you, you're shutting him out. Why?"

"I have coped for my whole adult life on my own. I just do not think that using him as a crotch…"

"Crutch."

"Thank you. I do not think using Tony as a crutch will be beneficial. To anyone. Particularly not when in a few months he will realise what he is doing and come to his senses. He is practically living with me and he will not want that when there is a baby waking up screaming every few hours. What happens when he wants to bring a girl home, Gibbs? It has not happened yet, but sooner or later it will. I do not think I can…I just…I…" She took a shuddering breath. "Gibbs, have you ever…has it ever been so tight, in here," she tapped her heart, "and it hurts so much every time that…every look it just…but you know you have already screwed it up and…you cannot…but he…then it…and…" She dissolved into a pool of tears. "…Gibbs…"

"Come here." He wrapped his arms around her trembling form. "You love him." It was not a question, it was a statement. She froze. "It's okay. I know. I know." He soothed, holding her as he would have held Kelly as she sobbed into his shirt.

She took a deep breath. "It is true. I love him." She extracted herself from his embrace and backhanded the saline streams that were moistening her cheeks. "But it is too late now. What is done is done and there is nothing more to do." She nodded. "I will get back to work now."

"Ziva…" He started, but she had already left. The pair of them really were hopeless.

Gibbs had been right. And she missed him. That was what had made her wrap her arms around his middle and guide him towards her bedroom that night when he had been making up the couch. It was what made her curl up in his arms and fall asleep instantly, unlike the hours that she had spent trying to get to sleep for the past few weeks. They had not spoken – they did not have the need to. They communicated perfectly without speaking, and the sounds of their voices would have simply ruined everything as she coiled up next to his body, using him as her personal comfort blanket, wrapping herself in him, surrounding herself with his scent and warmth. She slipped into her peaceful slumber with him stroking her hair, running his fingers through her glossy brown curls, and pressing kisses to the crown of her head every so often.

In the morning when they woke, things would not be back to normal, but they would be on the mend. They would be talking, although they would not mention what had happened two weeks beforehand, and they would be slightly more distant from one another than everyone else was used to seeing them, causing some worry and concern within the Navy Yard, however they would be as close to the rough approximation of normal that they had maintained for the past four months as they could be whilst still avoiding all topics of conversation that could lead them to places that had the potential to cause pain and distress.

I do not like that last section. I think it is poorly written and really not well placed. However, there have to be some oddly placed sections for the storyline to make sense, otherwise they are jumping from situation to situation with no consistency. And with a limit of only 24 chapters, meaning only 24 days, 23 because August 19th had two chapters, I have to work out a way to summarise two years of their life. I have to say, it is not as easy as I had hoped. At the moment, as I write this author's note on July 8th 2016, I have 14 chapters written up, which only takes us up to Christmas, and then I have the final chapter written up, which means that I have to fit a year and a half into 9 days.