A/N: Still going. Still got a few chapters to go. Give me a few months and I might get all the way to the end.
Apologies for the lack of formatting/lines between scenes etc here. Since FF 'upgraded' its document manager I actually can't do any formatting within the site at all. Great job, guys!
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.
...
Two days after his nonna had arrived, Tony had realized that dealing with the Mafioso was just like riding a bike. As a teenager he had mastered the skill, but as he'd gotten older and more distanced from the family he hadn't needed to rely on it much. When the Mafioso reappeared in his life he was completely out of practice and their insanity had knocked him on his ass. But after a couple of days of total immersion in their drama he had remembered how to deal with it. Don't fight it (it only makes them stronger), just go along with it (submission avoided emotional, mental and sometimes physical injury), and employ selective hearing (which became easier by the day with Mafioso-induced deafness).
Sometime the previous night—he thought it could have been between his second and third helping of his nonna's cannoli—Tony had realized that while he wasn't exactly feeling comfortable and in control, he no longer felt like stabbing himself. Incessant questioning about his love life had eased up when he started reacting to it with monosyllabic answers and ignored the accompanying pleading, worried and annoyed looks. He reckoned he'd cut their meddling time down to about two hours a day—down from at least four—and he could just about deal with it.
When he picked up Lina and Clare that morning to take them into NCIS, he'd made it clear that if they made one comment while on the grounds of the Navy Yard about him being in love with Ziva, he would take them over to the harbor and push them in. Both girls had crossed their hearts and promised to be on their best behavior. Now as he led them through the security gates in the foyer of the NCIS building, he hoped that they wouldn't give him a reason to distrust them.
As the girls clipped visitor passes to their jackets, Tony caught Clare eyeing off a young Marine standing nearby. He couldn't tell if she thought he was cute or if she was just curious about the people who joined the Corps, but he felt the need to comment anyway.
"Don't look at the Marines with guns for too long," he warned her. "If you look too shifty they'll probably arrest you."
The girls shared a look and small, knowing smiles. It struck him as completely affectionate, as if they had fully expected him to make some stupid comment like that and accepted it as part of who he was, and Tony wondered if that was some kind of sibling bonding moment that they were actually including him in. It brought a ridiculously happy feeling to his chest, and he bit back a smile as they stepped onto the elevator and he hit the button for the lab.
Sandra Bush, one of the agency's lawyers got into the car with them and hit the button for her floor before looking over the girls with a smile and then addressing Tony. "Are these your daughters, Agent DiNozzo?" she asked, and it seemed to Tony as if she took great relish in doing so.
Tony chuckled as if the suggestion that a man of his age would have almost adult daughters, but it was mostly for show. Bush wanted to get a rise out of him—although he couldn't immediately remember why she didn't like him very much—so he played along in his best passive aggressive shoes. "Oh yeah, but these are just the younger two. I got another one who's about to have her own kid. Can't wait to be a grandpa."
Bush seemed surprised by his level of snark, but she didn't tease him anymore. She got off the elevator with a small nod of farewell, and once the doors closed he looked at Lina and Clare. Clare looked amused—figured, she'd probably been rolling her eyes and saying the same thing in her head—but Lina looked pained on his behalf. Tony smiled with self-awareness and jerked his thumb at the door.
"I don't usually talk to people like that," he told them. "I think Rose is rubbing off on me."
"Why are you defending yourself?" Clare asked. "She shouldn't have talked to you like that. She was just being a bitch but disguising it behind non-witty banter. Screw her."
Tony smiled to himself. Man, he really liked Clare. He gave her a grateful look, but Lina wasn't having any of it.
"Clare, you can't just say whatever you want to people," she said on a sigh, and Tony knew without doubt that she'd spoken that sentence hundreds of times before.
Clare crossed her arms and remained defiant. "I quote Cordelia Chase: Tact is just saying stuff that's not true. Maybe the world would be a better place if everyone just stopped with the bullshit veneer and didn't entertain other people's precious egos by letting them get away with being assholes."
"Or maybe that would send the world into World War III," Lina rebutted. "You think it'd be better if Obama just told Kim Jong-un that he's a weenie and his dad was a complete nut job?"
"He'd have to get Kim Jong-un to talk to him first," Clare pointed out. "And I'm not talking about political diplomacy. I'm talking about when people put you down and make backhanded comments and then smile and expect that you'll swallow it because it's the polite thing to do."
The elevator stopped on Abby's floor and Tony slinked between the fighting girls to lead them down the hallway. He kind of wanted them to stop arguing, but since it was intelligent debate instead of slapsies over a lost skirt or someone's stupid boyfriend, he decided not to get involved. In fact, he was kind of impressed. The last few fights him and McGee had were over vending machine change, directions and a missing tube of superglue.
"I'm not saying you shouldn't stand up for yourself," Lina was saying. "I just think that you can do that without resorting to putting the other person down too."
"The other person should be put down," Clare said. "Tough love, bitch."
At the threshold to the lad, Lina spun to get up in Clare's face. "Did you just call me bitch?"
Clare sighed and put a calming hand on Lina's shoulder. "No, I meant it as, like, a punctuation mark."
Lina backed off completely. "Oh. Good. Because I was about to mess you up."
Clare looked at her as if that was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever been asked to believe, and Tony decided it was time to step in before they started slapping and pinching each other.
"Okay, no one's messing anyone up. There's no fighting in the lab. It's an occupational health and safety thing." He gestured around at the chemicals in the fridge and various kid unfriendly machines and surfaces. "Someone might accidentally throw hydrochloric acid on someone else and then we'd have a law suit on our hands."
"Sorry," they said in unison.
"Good," Tony said, and then looked around for Abby. "Now, this is usually where we find Abby, but I don't see—"
"YOU!"
Tony jumped and spun around at the angry voice, and after a little weaving around work stations he saw Abby striding towards him with her finger pointed. She was glaring at him as if she could set him alight with just her gaze, and Tony instinctively angled his body between her and the girls.
"Hey, Abs," he said brightly, but with caution. "I missed you. I brought the girls—"
"Where were you last night?" she demanded.
Just like Lina had with Clare a minute ago, Abby got right up in his face and put her hands on her hips. Tony started backing up as Abby kept advancing until his butt hit the workbench behind Abby's command centre and he had nowhere else to go.
"Uh, did we have plans?" he asked slowly as he racked his brains trying to remember. "What was I supposed to do?"
Abby crossed her arms over her chest and scoffed. "Well, geez. You could have paid Ziva a visit."
Tony was usually pretty good at remembering plans with Ziva, and he was sure they hadn't made any for the night before. "Did I have plans with Ziva?" he asked anyway.
Abby blinked at him. "Are you serious?"
He got the impression that she couldn't believe he didn't know. But he honestly didn't. "Yes…" he said at length.
Abby cocked her head to the side to study him, and then he watched her face fall. Her irritation gave way to sympathy and then worry, and Tony didn't like it one bit. "Oh," she said. "You don't know, do you?"
Tony felt dread pour over him. "Know what?" he asked, his voice hardening.
Now Abby started backing up and looking for an exit. "Um…"
He advanced on her, desperate for the important information about his partner. "Abby, what's going on?"
Abby held up a finger and looked around nervously. "You know, you should really get McGee to tell you."
Speak of the devil, the probie chose that moment to walk into the lab. "Tell who what?" he asked, and then looked around at Abby and the flock of DiNozzos.
Abby stepped over to his side and wrapped her hand around his arm. "Um, Tony would like to know about that thing with Ziva last night," she told him with wide eyes, as if that would help him discern the major thing that had happened to her from all the other things that had happened.
McGee looked over at Tony with an expression that suggested that he would definitely not like to fill Tony in. Tony felt his jaw tighten as he advanced on McGee, and McGee held his hands up to calm him down.
"It's okay," McGee said to Tony, and then glared at Abby. "I hadn't worked out how to tell him yet."
"Sorry," Abby whispered.
"Somebody tell me now," Tony demanded. He was vaguely aware of Lina and Clare standing together by the back wall and watching the situation unfold, but he was more focused on what the hell might've happened to Ziva than on how he should behave in front of them.
"Well, there was an incident," McGee said.
"Elaborate."
McGee threw another glance at Abby and then laid it out. "We apprehended our suspect last night, but he went down fighting. Ziva found him first and there was a fairly significant fight." McGee paused and looked at Lina and Clare, and then back to Tony with a question in his eyes that asked whether Tony wanted him to continue in their presence. At Tony's nod, he went on. "He cracked her pretty good over the back of the head with a lamp and while she was dazed he…"
When McGee paused again the pain that Tony had been feeling in his temple for the last week came back with a vengeance. He turned his wince into a glare. "He what, McGee?" he asked as nightmares filled his head.
McGee looked him in the eye and finally gave it to him as gently as he could. "He tried to choke her. I came in and saw him…He didn't stop when I called out, so I shot him."
Tony didn't hear the gasps from his sisters. The blood rushing through his ears was practically deafening him. "Is he dead?"
"No," McGee said. "One in the shoulder, one in the thigh."
"Good," Tony said with a curt nod. "Where is Ziva?"
"Home today."
Tony let his eyes close for just a moment as he processed that information. If they'd been open, his eyeballs might have popped out of his head with pure frustration. "So she signed herself out of the hospital," he translated.
"Yes," McGee said, and then cut Tony off when he read what was about to come out of his mouth. "Don't pretend like you would have been able to make her stay."
Tony rubbed his head and paced a few steps as he digested it all a little more. His heart was racing with worry, but he also felt sick with guilt. He should have been there. Anthony had spent another night in hospital but it wasn't like Tony could have been with him. And there was no reason that he had to stay with his nonna, aunts or sisters. He was slacking off and eating cannoli when he should have been with his team and watching their backs. As the senior field agent, he'd screwed up by not being in the field.
He felt Abby touch his arm. "Tony," she said gently.
His head popped up and he looked accusingly between her and McGee. "Why didn't anyone call me last night?"
McGee shared a vaguely nervous look with Abby. "Well, because she signed herself out. I figured she was probably going to see you or—"
"You figured?" he cut in. "You didn't drop her at her apartment?"
McGee made a face like he knew Tony wasn't going to like the answer. "She kind of took care of the transportation thing herself."
Tony stared at McGee for a full five seconds as he felt his blood pressure soar. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You let her go home by herself after she'd been hospitalized for being hit over the head and choked? Is that what you're telling me?"
"She said she was okay," McGee argued. "And it's Ziva, so she probably was okay. And we were kind of busy with the suspect since…" He trailed off, but Tony heard what he was going to say anyway. And he was sure he was right when Abby nudged McGee to shut up.
Tony swallowed and flexed his jaw. "Since I'm not around," Tony finished for him.
McGee shook his head. "No, that's not what I was going to say," he lied.
Tony let it go for the moment and pulled out his cell phone. He turned his back on everyone and dialed Ziva's number while he heard a collective sigh from behind him as everyone relaxed.
McGee turned a friendly smile on the girls. "Hi, I'm Tim."
"Oh! And I'm Abby! You must be Lina and Clare."
"Hey," the girls said in unison.
"Is Ziva going to be okay?" Lina asked.
"Yeah, she'll be fine," McGee assured her.
Tony turned around and waved his phone at McGee. "She's not answering her phone."
"She can't talk," McGee said.
"Huh?"
"She can't talk!" McGee repeated, this time backed up with Abby. They both pointed at their throats and Tony caught on. Ziva had almost been choked, and so probably it hurt to talk.
Tony took that with a deep breath and then started texting her. Where are you? You better be OK because I'm going to kick your ass. He hit send and looked up just in tome to see Ziva walk through the door. Her phone beeped with Tony's text message, and she threw him a quick smile before pulling out her phone and checking the message. She looked up again and pointed at Tony with a bigger smile before returning to the message. Her smile faded, and then she bit her lip before turning and heading for the door again.
"Ziva!"
Ziva stopped at the no-nonsense tone in his voice, turned again, and then spotted Lina and Clare. She smiled at them and then headed for their safety. Both girls gave her a hug and a kiss, but looked quite worried.
"Are you okay?" Lina asked.
Ziva waved her hand dismissively. "Sure," she said, her voice so raspy that Tony's throat hurt in sympathy.
He walked over and forced a smile. "Can I talk to you please?"
Ziva shook her head and pointed at her throat as she deliberately misunderstood him. In response, Tony put his hand on her back and started forcibly guiding her towards Abby's office.
"I don't need you to talk," he clarified.
Ziva's shoulders slumped as she let herself be steered to the office. Tony closed and locked the door behind them, and the others watched through the glass as Tony put on his proper angry face and started gesturing wildly. Ziva's expression became more and more indignant at whatever he was saying. The others could hear his voice if not the words, and although Abby tried to lip-read what he was saying she found that he was moving too fast. After no more than 15 seconds Ziva seemed to lose her patience and picked up one of Abby's stress balls shaped like a skull and hurled it at him. Then she picked up another and threw that. And another.
"Seriously, is she going to be okay?" Lina asked Abby and McGee as Tony batted another stress ball away. "Those bruises are pretty bad."
"She'll be fine," McGee said again.
"Yeah, but is Tony going to be okay?" Clare asked, and her tone suggested she already knew the answer.
"No," Abby and McGee said at once.
Lina pointed at the scene in the other room and looked between Abby and McGee. "Me and Clare aren't the only ones who see this, right? Like, he keeps saying it's not happening, but they're basically in love with each other, right?"
"No," McGee said tiredly.
"Yes," Abby corrected, and gave McGee a gentle shot in the arm. "But they keep pretending they're not, so we keep pretending they're not."
"Why are they pretending?" Clare asked.
"You'll have to ask them," Abby said. "But mostly? Gibbs."
"What's—" Lina started, but she cut herself off when Ziva yelled loudly from the other room. They all turned to look as she winced and put her hand to her throat, and Tony's face immediately turned from fury to concern. He stepped closer to her to put his hand on her arm, and talked to her a little more before Ziva leaned closer to him to deliver a calmer rebuttal. They looked at each other for a few long seconds, and then the slump of Tony's shoulders and bowing of his head suggested he'd caved in on whatever exactly they were fighting about. A few more words passed between them, and then they rejoined the others in the lab.
Tony looked self-conscious as he looked around at them, but then deflected the attention. "You get all that, Abs?" he asked.
Abby shook her head. "Actually, no. You were moving around too fast."
"You're supposed to be at home today," McGee said to Ziva.
Ziva sent him a filthy look, as if the suggestion she would take a day off after almost being killed was utterly insulting. McGee held up his hands defensively.
"I'm not fighting with you," he insisted. "But does Gibbs know you're here?"
Ziva looked vaguely guilty.
"He probably sensed it as soon as you drove onto the Yard this morning," Abby said, and then looked at Lina and Clare. "Gibbs is our boss. He's psychic. He always knows when—" She stopped abruptly, stood up straight and rolled her eyes down towards her shoulder. "Is he behind me?"
Everyone else glanced at the empty doorway.
"No," McGee told her.
Abby made a face and then looked for herself. "Huh. That's weird. Usually when I start talking about Gibbs' psychic powers he materializes out of thin air, like, poof! You know? He gets in my head, and I don't know how he does it."
"I just pay attention, Abs," Gibbs said as he swept into the room, Caf-Pow in one hand and coffee in the other. He stopped abruptly at finding at least four more people in the room than he was expecting, but his eyes settled on Ziva.
"See?" Abby was saying to the girls. "He just knows!"
Gibbs ignored her in favor of glaring at Ziva. "You're not supposed to be here, David."
"I just wanted to talk to Abby," she rasped.
Gibbs held up his finger around the side of his coffee cup. "Don't talk," he told her.
Ziva pursed her lips and crossed her arms, making her contempt for being told how to handle her own health apparent. Gibbs handed over the Caf-Pow to Abby, then looked between Tony, Lina and Clare. Tony watched his eyes linger on Lina before he returned his gaze to Tony with the hint of a smile. Tony lifted his eyebrows in acknowledgement and then made quick introductions.
"Gibbs, this is Lina and Clare. Girls, this is el jefe."
The girls smiled and waved, and Gibbs' smile broke a little wider before he reined it in.
"I'm sorry about your dad," he told them.
"Thanks," Lina said.
Gibbs nodded and then looked at Ziva. "If you're staying, you gotta make yourself useful."
Ziva nodded diligently, and Gibbs gestured for her and McGee to follow him.
"Got some work to do," Gibbs called as he headed for the door. "See you around, DiNozzos."
Abby waved as if she was included, then spun and smiled at Lina. "So. Tony said you're about to graduate with a degree in chemistry."
Lina nodded. "Yeah, I'm almost done."
"That's cool," Abby said. "I speak the language. You want me to take you on a tour of the lab to meet my babies?"
Lina's eyes scanned the room as if expecting to see infants.
"She means her science machines," Tony translated. "The ones that do the spinning and the analyzing and the…thing where you get the animation on the TV." He waved his hand towards the flat screen at the back of the room.
Abby cocked her head to the side and put her hand on her hip. "Is that all you've learnt from me in 12 years? Science machines?"
Tony shrugged. "That and how to bowl the perfect 300."
Abby seemed slightly buoyed by that, and then put a gentle hand on Lina's shoulder. "Come on. I want to show you the ballistics lab first."
As they headed into the back room, Tony rolled one of Abby's chairs over to Clare and took the other for himself. They sat at the workbench behind Abby's main computer console, and before Tony could suggest they find some pipe cleaners and rubber gloves and try to build some farm animals Clare gave him one of those perceptive looks he was learning to be wary of.
"So I guess you're kind of freaked out."
Tony gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "She's going to be fine," he told her.
Clare nodded slowly. "Yeah, but I said that you were freaked out."
Damn it, the little investigator was such a little pain in the butt. And he kind of loved her for it. "It was a bit of a shock," he admitted. "But Ziva has informed me in her special way that involved threats of violence that my concern is misplaced. So I'm over it."
Clare frowned like she didn't understand how it all worked. "Does it happen often?"
"Ziva threatening me with violence? Yes, frequently. But she doesn't mean it." He paused. "She almost never means it," he revised.
"No, I mean does Ziva or anyone else getting choked happen often?" Clare asked. "Or just hurt or whatever."
Tony shook his head firmly. "No."
Clare looked at him like she was weighing up pushing it. In the end, she did. "It's just Dad said that you got shot a couple of months ago. And this happened to Ziva. And you said that your last boss was killed, and your last partner was killed."
He reached over to put a comforting hand on her arm. It felt less awkward then when he'd comforted her at the hospital, but he was still expecting her to squirm uncomfortably. She didn't. "You don't need to spend time worrying about it, Clare," he told her. "That's my job."
But his attempt at reassurance was met with a disbelieving snort. "Okay, fine. But while you're worrying about everything for everyone, who's worrying about you?"
Tony gave her a smile, grateful for her concern, but he knew she didn't have to worry. "Gibbs," he replied. "And Ziva and McGee. We all worry about each other and take care of each other. It's okay."
Clare nodded, but Tony realized as soon as he said it that it hadn't been true last night. They were all a team, but with Tony gone it was McGee's job to step into his Senior Field Agent shoes and watch everyone's backs. If he'd been doing his job properly then Ziva shouldn't have ended up with some disgusting criminal's hands around her neck. She shouldn't have been pinned to the floor, dazed, as some piece of crap tried to squeeze the life out of her. If McGee had been taking care of her, he would have argued with her and made her stay in the hospital. And he would have driven her home in the morning when she was released. If he was doing his job, he wouldn't have just assumed that Ziva was going anywhere and that she'd be fine. He should have driven her home, put her to bed, stolen her keys and called her a few times to make sure she was conscious and still breathing okay. If McGee was doing his job, he should have worried about her more and taken care of her better. And Tony was going to make sure he knew it.
...
Before they left the Navy Yard, Tony left the girls with Abby and went in search of McGee. He was full of misdirected anger by the time he found the probie in the hallway beneath the stairs to MTAC, and yelled out to him before he could return to the bullpen.
"Hey!"
McGee stopped and turned, and gave him a brief smile. "Hey. Your sisters seem really sweet."
But Tony didn't give a crap about pleasantries. He stepped into McGee's face and laid down the law. "I've got enough to worry about with my dad and my insane, needy family without having to spend all day worrying about whether you guys are watching each other's backs as well," he hissed.
McGee blinked and gaped in surprise over Tony's outburst, but quickly regained control and tried to set Tony straight. "We were. She went to clear a room. Routine. We do it all the time."
"You should have had eyes on her," Tony told him. "You should've been faster to back her up."
McGee took the rant with the patience of someone who knew how to handle Tony when his buttons had been pressed. "I did back her up," he said calmly. "So did Gibbs. The suspect was hidden, Tony. Not even Ziva saw him coming. You think he would have been able to bring her down if she had?"
He was making complete sense and deep down Tony knew he was right. But the finger marks on Ziva's neck had scared the crap out of him and his level head had been lost days ago when he first met Mia in the bullpen. He was angry and stressed and worried about every facet of his life, and McGee could feed him calm and rational responses for the rest of the day and Tony still wouldn't be able to accept them.
"I'll be back tomorrow to relieve you of the seemingly impossible task of holding this team together," Tony told him. "Try not to let anyone get killed tonight and I'll get to work fixing everything in the morning."
He turned again and strode away, ignoring McGee's calls for him to come back and the sick feeling that had settled in his stomach over his behavior. Yeah, he was angry with McGee—and Gibbs and Ziva, for that matter—for a lack of awareness that could have gotten one of them killed. He felt justified in that anger. But he rarely yelled, and he never threatened his own guys. He didn't like how he'd dealt with it, but at least now McGee had no misunderstanding about what was expected of him if he ever filled Tony's shoes again.
...
Tony took that night off family duties. Anthony had finally been released and the girls were spending the night with him and Mia. Rose had called and asked if he wanted to have dinner with her, Louisa and his nonna, but Tony had begged off and honestly told her that he just needed a night alone to breathe. Rose had accepted this without complaint, and Tony had to wonder if either Lina or Clare had filled her in on what had happened to Ziva the night before. He hoped they hadn't. He didn't need Rose, Louisa and his nonna having their fears about him possibly being hurt in the line of duty fuelled by facts.
He was standing in front of his open refrigerator and trying to work out how many days it had been since he'd shoved the leftovers from Ziva's moussaka in there when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He let the refrigerator door swing shut, took out his phone and leaned his elbows against the counter as he brought up the text message.
Are you with your family tonight?
He responded to Ziva's text with a quick one of his own. No, taking a break. Just at home.
Her response came so quickly that he wondered if she had already been typing when she got his message. I'm coming over.
Tony winced to himself. He didn't usually duck from spending time with her, but he had a feeling she'd be angry with him for being angry with her and McGee, and he didn't feel like he had the energy to deal with it. He knew it would be pointless to tell her no, though, so he send her a quick OK and then returned to his refrigerator in the search for something to eat.
Half an hour later he was still looking for something edible when she knocked on the door. He gave up his half-hearted search of his pantry and opened the door to find that Ziva once again came bearing food. Either she figured it would be a fairly solid guess that he wanted food, or she'd simply been thoughtful enough to realize that he probably hadn't had the chance to go grocery shopping for a while. Either way, he welcomed her in with a grateful smile as she held up the plastic bag with a few containers of Thai.
"Good timing," he said. "I was looking at having to eat a jar of mayonnaise for dinner."
Ziva made a face and brushed past him on her way to the kitchen. He followed her in and as she took containers out of the bag he went to the fridge and grabbed the last two beers in there. Good thing he hadn't ended up letting Lina and Clare drink them the other night or else they'd really have a crisis on their hands.
When he turned around again Ziva was standing right in front of him instead of on the other side of the kitchen where he expected her to be. He jumped and sent her a gently admonishing look, but that faded when she twisted her hair up, held it against the back of her head, and then arched her neck towards him, her head angled away. Tony's eyes fell on the bruises that she was clearly and pointedly showing to him, and his heart rate picked up again with panic. He should have been there. His family didn't need him sitting there doing nothing. He should have been at work with his team who did need him there.
He put the beer bottles down and met Ziva's eyes. She was challenging him to say something. Challenging him to argue that she wasn't okay and needed looking after. He didn't dare take her up on that, but he voiced his concern nonetheless.
"Does it hurt?"
Ziva held his gaze for a moment and then gave him a little shrug that confirmed that it did, but not too much.
"It could have ended differently," he said thickly.
"It did not," Ziva told him, her voice still as raspy as it had been that morning.
He swallowed and looked at her guiltily. "I should have been there."
She gave him a fleetingly sympathetic look—if tables were turned, she would probably have been thinking the same thing—but denied it. "We cannot be with each other 24 hours a day," she said, letting her hair fall down again. "But in this case, Gibbs and McGee were both there."
"Then why didn't they stop it?" he asked, anger creeping into his tone now.
"McGee did," Ziva countered. "With two bullets. Do not take your anger out on them. It happened, I am fine, so we should all move on."
Tony sighed to himself. Rationally, he understood what she was saying and knew she was right. But Jesus, if that guy had just three more seconds before McGee had interrupted him, Tony never would have been able to forgive himself for being gone.
"I'm sorry," he offered. But his words were met with a scowl right before Ziva gave him a shot in the arm. He grabbed his bicep and angled his body away from her. "Ow! God!"
Ziva poked him in his other arm. "Not your fault," she rasped, and then gave him a gentle smack on the back of his head for good measure.
He tried to dodge further assault by stepping into her space, putting his face to her shoulder to make it harder for her to slap his head without slapping her own face, and then making a grab for her arms. Ziva resisted with a chuckle and pushed him back, and the next thing Tony knew they were wrestling and gently fighting each other in between laughter. They'd only wrestled once or twice in the past, and it hadn't been wrestling as much as Ziva attacking him for some stupid comment he'd made and him falling to the ground with a yelp. They certainly hadn't done it for fun before, and although it started off with a burst of uncontrollable laughter it quickly turned into something far less enjoyable. The massive release of emotion quite unexpectedly switched from cheer to panic, and while Ziva continued to fight him playfully Tony found himself seriously trying to stop the fight. It wasn't that he was scared of her or that she was hurting him. It was that he was allowing himself to fight her—even playfully—when someone else had fought her the night before and almost killed her. Maybe he wouldn't be quite so freaked out about it if he didn't have a heaping serve of family drama that he was still trying to get through, but he did, and he was.
When she lifted her arm to grab his shoulder and try to bring him down, Tony grabbed her wrist and spun her around, and then pulled her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around hers, immobilizing her and ending the fight, but as Ziva continued to chuckle (and let him keep her still), Tony dropped his face to the back of her shoulder and squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to get a grip on himself. His breaths came fast and shallow and his arms got tighter around her, and although he knew he should let her go, he couldn't. He felt paralyzed. Holding on to her was how he was reassuring himself she was okay, even after he'd just pulled her wrists and tried to sweep her feet out from under her and used his weight to knock her off balance.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, breathlessly.
Ziva's chuckles subsided, and he felt her hair brush against his face as she tried to look back over her shoulder at him. "What?" She sounded completely confused and he didn't really blame her. He sounded crazy to himself, but he still couldn't make himself drop it.
"I shouldn't be grabbing you," he said, and lifted his head as he loosened his grip on her. "After last night. And I know you say it's not my fault, but I'm still sorry because I should have been there and backed you up."
She sighed heavily and turned, and by the time she faced him again his arms had fallen away from her. "Tony," she said with wheezy exasperation, "I will not accept your apologies over this. I know it is in your nature to try to hold yourself responsible for everything, but you need to start letting go of some things. Guilt would be a good place to start."
Tony shot a weak smile at the floor as he leaned back against the counter. Yeah, that pretty much summed him up right now. Half of him was guilty over not being there for his work family, and the other half was guilty over wanting to shun responsibility for his actual family. Somehow, he needed to find a balance between them and try to accept how much of himself he had to give to each side. But at that moment, with the woman he wanted to commit to standing before him with some guy's fingerprints branded across her throat, Tony couldn't even begin to start letting go. The weight of everything he was carrying came down on him hard, and he slid down the side of the counter until he was sitting on the floor.
Ziva's face was impassive as she watched him drop, and after a few seconds of silence she had pity and joined him. She braced her hands on his knees before crouching in front of him, her legs together and bracketed by his. "You know I am right," she said softly.
Tony nodded slowly. "Yeah, I do."
She narrowed her eyes momentarily in that way she did when she was sizing him up, and he guessed that she had another piece of tough love to dole out. He was sure that his expression didn't change in response, not even to invite her to share her thoughts. But Ziva never waited for an invitation. "Another thing," she said gently, and poked his knee. "Don't start treating McGee like Gibbs treats you."
Tony closed his eyes and sighed as he dropped his head back against the side of the counter. "I know I shouldn't have snapped at him," he admitted as another wave of guilt hit him. "I'll apologize tomorrow."
Ziva nodded. "Do you think you would have done that if you were not so stressed out about taking care of every single other person in your life?"
He understood that she was saying that to underline her original point, and he absolutely agreed with her. But instead of answering her he decided he had to make his own point. "They're crazy, Ziva," he insisted.
She shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She had only met Lina and Clare, and of the entire DiNozzo bunch (Tony included) they were probably the least crazy. But she had to take his word about the others. "Perhaps. But it would be bad to start using them as an excuse for your actions."
Tony nodded, and Ziva smiled in return, satisfied that she'd gotten her message across. She patted his knee as if she now expected that they could get off the floor, but Tony still felt too weighed down to get up. He held her gaze and Ziva paused and waited for him to speak.
"Do you think we're destined to become our parents?" he asked.
Ziva's eyes went over his shoulder as she thought about that, and then she held onto his knees as she leaned back and lowered her butt to the floor. "Well, I think we take on certain parts of our parents' personalities," she said, and then looked at him seriously. "I do not believe that you are destined to marry four times and drink for 30 years and have children you do not tell your other children about."
Tony had gotten over that concern since the last time they'd spoken about it, but it wasn't Daddy DiNozzo who he was worried about emulating. Given his treatment of McGee this afternoon, it was Gibbs he felt closest to. And while it was usually a compliment to think that he was following in Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs' footsteps, it was a different matter when he realized he'd picked up one of his worst traits.
"Do you think I'm destined to live alone for the rest of my life?" he asked. "And long for my past, and make my entire life about my job?"
Ziva's eyes softened. "What part of your past do you long for, Tony?"
He thought about it, but ended up shaking his head. "Nothing," he admitted. "And maybe that makes it worse. I've never found myself in that place of total happiness. I've never had that perfect moment to relive and replay over and over."
"Many of us have not had that moment," Ziva replied, and he wasn't sure but it seemed as though her eyes were getting misty. "But we should not accept that this is all there is to life. And we should not give up looking for that place of happiness."
Tony's throat was tight as he swallowed, and although this was all hitting close to the bone for the two of them, he forced himself to keep looking her in the eye. "Are you still looking, Ziva?"
"Yes."
His heart thumped hard. "Do you think you'll find it?"
Ziva held his gaze silently, and when her eyes filled a little more he was almost sure she knew what he was getting at. He wasn't asking if she'd ever find happiness. He was asking if she thought they'd find it together. Because if she did, then maybe he'd be able to start letting go of the idea that he had to keep his feelings for her completely to himself. He held his breath as he waited for her response, and after what felt like too long she finally nodded.
"Yes," she replied, her voice cracking as if had all night.
And just like that, Tony felt the weight on him start to lift. Some of the happiness he was searching for crept into his veins, and a small, warm smile broke over his face. He covered her hand that was still resting on his knee with his as she returned the smile, and he decided that when all this crazy family stuff was over he was going to revisit this conversation.
Ziva squeezed his knee, telling him the moment needed to end, and then returned to the original topic. "Tony, you are not destined to become your father, and you are not destined to become Gibbs. We talked about this, yes? You are your own man and you make your own decisions."
Tony nodded, feeling more open to the idea than he had been before. "Yeah. I really am going to apologize to McGee tomorrow."
"Good."
He shook his head in wonder at his own actions. "It really was so easy to yell at him."
Ziva made a face like that was easy to believe. "It is probably because you love each other."
The comment completely ended the nice, intimate moment they'd had, and Tony screwed up his face in disgust. "Eww!" he cried.
Ziva gently punched his knee. "McGee knows the stress you have been under, and so he gave you a free pass for your behavior," she explained. "And you only yelled at him because you knew he would let you get away with it. You were upset but you could not take it out on me because I had just been threatened by someone else. You could not take it out on Gibbs because he would only smack you and tell you to get over it. You could not take it out on Abby because the behavior would worry her too much. And you could not take it out on your family when your relationships with them are either new or tenuous."
She was right, but her insight into his thought processes was slightly annoying. He aimed a scowl at her, but it didn't carry too much weight. "You've been watching too much Dr Phil."
Ziva returned to scowl. "No, you are just easy to profile because right now you are a walking cliché."
"Ouch."
She lifted an eyebrow, inviting him to argue with her. He couldn't be bothered. She took his silence as an end to the conversation and planted her hands on his knees again. She pushed herself to her feet.
"Can we eat yet?" she asked. "Or if there is something else you want to talk about first, can we at least do it on the couch?"
Tony shook his head and then held his hand out to her. "No, I'm done with the heavy stuff."
Ziva took his hand and helped him get to his feet. She turned to the takeout containers she had brought over while Tony grabbed chopsticks and a bottle opener from the middle drawer. He handed her the chopsticks and she took them and the food containers into the living room. Tony opened the two beers that were starting to get warm and then followed her.
Ziva was pulling the coffee table closer to the couch when he joined her in the living room, and then they settled side-by-side on the couch. He picked up the remote and started flicking around until he settled on a repeat of Community, and then settled back to eat his Pad Thai.
"Are you really coming back to work tomorrow?" Ziva asked.
Tony took a deep breath as he thought it over one more time, and then nodded. "Yeah. It's time. Regardless of your little foray into flatlining yesterday, I feel like I need to be there. For my own sanity as much as anything else."
"I did not flatline," she grumbled.
He grunted instead of engaging in an argument about it.
"It will be nice to have you back," she started before changing her tune slightly. "Maybe. Depending on what mood you are in. Because some days, Tony, you are exceptionally annoying."
"Thanks."
"But none of us want you to come back when your family still needs you. And we do not want you to come back only because you think one of us will get shot or stabbed or strangled."
He decided she probably hadn't intended to cause offense. "It's not about that," he said, lying only a little bit. "I'm not denying that I want to be there to watch my team's backs, but it's not all for your benefit. I need it for my own peace of mind." He waved his chopsticks dismissively. "Anyway. Dad's been discharged and he's back at the Dorchester. Soon enough the others will be packing up their wagons and heading home. Life's returning to normal, and there's no need for me to stay away from work and act like it's not."
Ziva looked at him thoughtfully. "Will you stay in contact with everyone?"
She had asked him that a few days ago when she really had been asking about everyone. Now, he was pretty sure she was just asking about one person in particular. "I will with the girls," he told her. "And I can't see Nonna and Rose and Louisa leaving me alone again until after Christmas." He paused and actually smiled. "I guess that's okay. You know, if they stay out of town."
Ziva nodded, but pressed him on the remaining person who she was most interested in. "And your father?"
Tony took his time to think that over as he picked between his noodles in search of a piece of chicken. Although Senior had apologized for his behavior, expressed interest in trying to repair their relationship and had even started trying to make amends, Tony still wasn't ready to welcome him back into his life with open arms. Gibbs had reminded him that being a father didn't make anyone infallible, but it wasn't just a few run of the mill mistakes that he was being asked to overlook. Anthony had essentially given up on parenting at all once Tony's mother had died, and while he'd tried to explain himself and his grief, and rationally Tony understood where he was coming from, he couldn't wipe the slate clean just yet. Jesus, the guy had only been back in his life for a week.
"I don't know," he finally replied. "Adorable, well adjusted siblings don't make up for his shitty overall attempt at parenting." He paused. "I want to get over it, Ziva. I really do. I just think it's probably going to take a long time."