[] We're at 100 reviews! Woot. So incredibly exciting peeps. Here we have chapter 10. Not fluff I'm afraid, in the least. An unhappy Tony follows, you have been disclaimed. Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing this chapter, his reaction feels real to me, I hope it does to you as well.

Every revelation is, in part, something that conceals. Inherently the two are linked. Intertwined, intimate partners, soldiered together in a conglomerate that would not, will not unwind. It was like black and white. Good and evil. You couldn't separate things that existed in pairs and because of each other. In perfect tandem, balancing on some sort of cosmic math sheet. Revelations were cloaks for concealment. Or concealment was a mask for revelation, he couldn't figure out which was the real bad guy. Then again, maybe it was him. He kicked at the concrete. Nothing giving there. Nothing giving ever. He was losing her. And so not in the way he had thought he was going to lose her just a couple months ago. Not to the demons. Not to the nightmares that he wasn't even really sure she had. Not to some other random terrorist. Not to a bad guy with a gun and just a little bit too much weight on her. Not even to someone else. He was losing her to herself.

She was getting back up on her feet. Pulling up her shoelaces as she would have said, and she was doing it all without him. He'd thought- well she'd shot down what he thought. Real quick. And it had hurt. More than he'd let on about and a lot more than he'd looked in the second before he'd put a mask up and made a joke. He gritted his teeth and tried to remind himself that he wanted this. Ziva getting back to less jumpy and less scary and less tentative was good. And it was. But he'd thought she might include him in her new … view or whatever the hell it was … on life. Apparently not. At least not anymore than he'd really been involved before and he'd expected more. Oh he'd expected more. He'd thought that movie nights where she fell asleep on his couch and dinners where she cooked for him had meant he'd be getting a front row ticket to her life.

Well apparently not. He wanted to be mad so badly it was eating him alive but it wasn't like he could be mad about it because she was damn happier. And he had wanted that. He had wanted that. This. Wanted this. Ziva getting better. He'd wanted this. Tony kicked the concrete on the sidewalk again and decided to walk another loop around the Navy Yard; he hadn't cooled off yet, and he needed to be cooled off before he went back inside. The concrete still didn't give and it still hurt his foot. This sucked. Bad. She'd revealed a piece of herself, laid it out for all to see and at the same time tucked everything else so deeply back inside that he'd stood reeling and mad as hell at her as everyone else had just oozed happy hormones. All because he'd thought he'd secured a place in her life. With her somewhere. Something. Some time, anything.

Wouldn't be the first time he'd screwed up. Not the last either. His track record sucked. Ziva was getting better sure, but she'd just royally screwed his healing process all to hell. Which wouldn't be so problematic if he didn't want her to be happy and normal and settled here, but he did. Did really badly so he was witnessing a small war going on in his head. On one side stood the Confederates, all geared up and fighting for Ziva. On the other stood the Yankees, in blue and willing to do whatever it took for Ziva. There would be the root of the problem; everyone was fighting for Ziva. For Ziva to heal, for Ziva to be … in some strange, twisted, small capacity if that was all he could have … his. And he was tugging Ziva this way and that and she wasn't going at all and he just didn't know what to do with all of this.

It had been going so good. So effortless. Easy and simple. Which wasn't them at all. So he didn't know why he had expected for it to continue. But he had. And no he was reaping the benefits of that brilliant decision. Or non-decision. He didn't really ever remember deciding to do much of anything with or about Ziva. Kind of a knee-jerk reaction usually. He needed a new plan. A new idea. A new outlook. A new something. Anything. He pushed his hand through his hair and kept walking. This wasn't working. Time for a change. Because she'd all but told him to butt out and that it wasn't his business and she'd meant it too. To think he'd been in such a cheery, happy-go-lucky mood an hour ago. Offering to get lunch and turn paperwork in to Vance. The pigeons he'd thrown the rest of his sandwich to on the last loop were still having a field day over the bread. He hoped they enjoyed it. It'd kind of lost its draw after Ziva's news.

"Ziva!" Abby's chair spun sideways as she shoved away from the bench top. The back hit two tables before she came to a stop three feet in front of Ziva. "Oh I'm so glad you came to see me!" Her palms clapped together as she grinned and sent the chair spinning in a circle. Like a freaking top.

"We brought you lunch Abby," Ziva quietly said, taking small steps back as Abby continued to twirl. Pigtails flying out to the side, feet tucked around the metal … pretty funny sight. Ziva's elbow in his side made him cough. Jeeze she hit hard. He needed to teach her how to hit with a teasing intention. If she ever did that. He wasn't sure. Probably against the ninja, bad-ass code.

"Yah Abs, lunch. Pizza. Your favorite. From Gino's." The spinning stopped and she wobbled sideways for half a second.

"Woah! That makes me really dizzy I must be seeing Ziva in double and projecting Tony onto one of the Ziva's because Tony never comes to see me anymore because he no longer loves me." It was hard to keep the grin off his face.

"I still love you Abs. What are you talking about?"

"You're never down here anymore," pout and scoot in the rolling chair. Ziva took another step back. "I didn't think you were alive. Bert's been having to watch movies with me and his commentary isn't as good as yours."

"I thought Bert was a girl," Ziva, with a very confused look on her face.

"He's been genetically modified. Every few weeks he becomes a she then she becomes a he then he becomes a she then back again and on and on."

"Abby I do not think-"

"-it is possible Ziva! There are worms that change sexes all the time! I can show you if you want all I've got to do is just pull up one little article and it'll just take a second." Tony caught the back of her chair before she could go and pull up whatever article it was. Ziva was sending him 'help' looks and he'd never been immune to those eyes of hers. One freaking eyelash batted and he was at her beck and call. Begging to be her little, frilly, yappy, lap dog. Ah, hell, who cared. She could just keep batting those eyelashes, it made him so damn happy not much else really registered.

"Uh Abby, I don't think so we're kind of here for-" but he never got to actually tell her what they were there for.

"I already sent the results up to Gibbs. Ziva was right. Big bad marine, has a big bad temper and no way to channel it properly."

"So it was the marine! I told you Tony." Great. Another point to Ziva David. Just what he needed, more stuff to boost her confidence, actually. That was good. Now that he actually thought about it and the smile on her face … definitely good. But just for appearances sake he had to whine.

"Zee-vah, you thought it was the marine just because he managed to get a punch in." Pursed lips. Little frown. Sparkling eyes. She wasn't really mad at him.

"At least I did not end up on my backside." Oh. She had gone there.

"Only because I lost my footing!"

"Because you were busy looking down my shirt."

"You were all wet, you really can't blame a guy for-"

"Woah. Stop. What happened. I'm hearing fight that Ziva got punched in, Tony fell down in, water that made Tony stare, how did you two survive this fight? And why aren't you buried under mountains of paperwork while Gibbs figures out a way to make a head slap machine for each of you?" Tony winced and turned, fully expecting Gibbs to be standing right behind him ready to deal the head slap of a lifetime. Huh. Gibbsdar must be misfiring again.

"It was nothing Abby, just a-" Tony cut her off.

"-chasing a suspect down thing. Big bad marine dives in a fricking pool. So what does little miss super ninja do? Dive in after him. I go around cause no way I'm getting this suit wet and-"

"-and the man still got out of the water before he'd made it around the pool and before I'd managed to get out of the … water toy thing he threw at me, that was when he punched me off course. It wasn't a very good punch though, I doubt it is going to bruise even. So then Tony-"

"-was first of all very mad that someone got herself hit and then very surprised that the guy's gun still worked after being underwater. Then Ziva pulls herself out of the pool, all wet and drippy, and doing the Bond girl routine without even knowing she's-"

"-I know what the Bond girl routine is! We watched that movie!"

"Movies. Plural. More than one," he cut his eyes at her as she stepped away from his side so that she could yell in his face. "Anyways, Bond girl routine and yeah I looked down your shirt, take it as a compliment, guy starts firing I lose my footing and sat down-"

"-on top of me." Abby giggled and they both suspended their staring contest to turn and look at her for a second.

"Let me get this straight. You were chasing a suspect. Ziva went swimming and got hit with an inner tube, big bad marine with a big bad gun starts firing and Tony sits on top of Ziva because he's distracted with looking down her shirt?" He met Ziva's eyes before nodding. Permission on that one was important. She was already somewhat ticked at him, or maybe not, he wasn't really sure, about the whole shirt thing. Good thing he hadn't mentioned it was see through and he was doing a lot more than looking down it. Just looking at her had been quite a treat, never mind the down the shirt bit. That was more a cover story so that he didn't have to tell her that whatever bra she was wearing was practically see through. God bless the manufacturer.

"Left out some of the details, but got the general plot yeah." More giggles and now he was rolling his eyes and sharing a smile with Ziva.

"You should consider doing a movie. Or a TV series. It'd be great. I know! Maybe they'll make McGee's book a movie! Wouldn't that be great?" He couldn't tamp down the response to frown and shake his head quick enough and Abby turned to glare at him. "Tony it would be great wouldn't it?" Steely tone, play along and don't get yelled at. That was always the approach with this Abby.

"Of course it would Abby," Ziva muttered and finally turned away from him to look at her. "Would you like to hear a surprise?" He reached out to tap Ziva's wrist in thanks and her fingers caught his thumb. She squeezed and he grinned. The grin turned into a grimace when the grip got a little too tight. She eased up when he shifted just a hair closer to her and he grinned again. The space thing was becoming less of a deal. Less than a foot away from her and behind her, it wouldn't have been something she would have allowed a week ago. Progress. Slow, painful steps, but progress. He could handle that. As long as there was some, he could handle whatever pace she wanted.

"I love surprises!"

"I'm getting a piano for my apartment." And she sounded so incredibly delighted over that fact that it made him grin too. But then he realized that he'd known nothing about this and for some reason he felt like he should have known. Like it was just his right to know. So he opened his mouth and questioned her and instantly wished he hadn't.

"You're getting a piano?" She dropped his thumb and turned to look at him, a frown on her face. She was right to be confused, his tone was way off for just a casual question. With her head turned sideways and her eyes asking all sorts of questions she answered anyways.

"Yes. I had one as a child. My mother taught Tali and I to play, Tali was always much better than I, but I did enjoy it."

"Need help getting it in your apartment?" She shook her head before he'd even finished his sentence.

"No." And that had hurt more than he cared to admit, because he'd thought that she would say yes. Yes come help me move my piano in, but just like that she closed that door. Slammed it really and he stood reeling just a bit because he didn't have a clue what to do with that.

"I learned as a kid too you know, I wouldn't break it or anything." Abby half chuckled at that but he was so far past ignoring Abby he hardly heard the noise split the silence that had settled between them. Ziva looked up at him, met his eyes and didn't blink when she spoke.

"I am fine Tony. I do not need your help with this." And he'd snapped. Blink. Everything he'd been working for and at and towards was gone. Blink. Ziva was placing her hand on his shoulder and giving him a small smile. Like he should think this was a good thing. Blink. Ziva no longer needed him. Blink. It wasn't a stretch to translate that into no longer wanted him. Blink. Her hand dropped and she turned to face Abby. Blink. He turned and walked out of the lab, even as Ziva called Tony to his back. Blink. The elevator doors shut and he punched the wall hard. Blink. His knuckles were bleeding. Blink. He couldn't feel it.

Tony dropped down hard on the curb. This was ridiculous. The whole fine thing had felt like a sucker punch itself. Because she certainly had meant it. But somehow he'd gotten so used to her being fine with having him around more than he had been originally. Somehow he'd thought that maybe that meant he'd get to stay that way. And he'd wanted to so badly. He'd liked this. The movies, the falling asleep with her feet in his lap or her head on his shoulder. The tiny touches she gave him sometimes. The smiles that she didn't really show anyone else. He'd loved it. Basked in it, thrived and healed in it. And now-now, he didn't even know what. It didn't help that there was some part of him that got it.

She was independent. God knew he had half fallen in love with that independence originally. The devil may care attitude and the confidence that made her that much more attractive. It would only make sense that she would eventually get that back. But he just hadn't expected it to be so soon and he had hoped that when she did she'd somehow include him anyways. Make him the one exception to whatever independent rule she had. He pressed his face into his hands. Why the hell hadn't he seen this little twist coming?

Losing Ziva to Ziva. The laugh that came out of his mouth was sardonic and twisted. Of course that would be how it worked. The one thing he couldn't battle against, couldn't argue with and sure as hell couldn't beat up. But that was exactly what was happening. She revealed something about her childhood, and at the same time sealed up the rest of herself into such a tight little container that he wasn't even allowed to come over and see the piano and it just made him so freaking angry. Because he wanted to go see that piano. He wanted to go help her put the damn thing up and yah he wanted to sit and watch her play. He heard the footsteps coming his way, but didn't bother to look up because he figured they weren't really headed towards him, only in the general direction. Apparently he was wrong.

Whoever sat down next to him didn't say anything. And he didn't bother looking up because if it was Ziva he really couldn't handle it right now, he had to get his self back together and his new game plan in place before he even attempted to be normal around her, and if it wasn't Ziva, well he didn't really want to talk to them.

"You managed to get Ziva and Abby upset." And that wasn't someone he had expected at all. Out of pure habit he lifted his head and sat up straight.

"Boss."

"And when you get Ziva and Abby upset at the same time they both come crying to me and I have to walk all the way around the damn Navy Yard to find you to find out 'what's wrong with Tony'? Better be something wrong." Gibbs tipped his coffee back and placed his elbows on his knees. Tony mirrored his position and sighed.

"Ziva's getting a piano." Gibbs' eyebrows went up and he stared at him for half a second.

"Sounds like a good thing to me."

"It is."

"So what's the problem Dinozzo?" And he was sure if he had anyone else to talk to about this stuff he would have, but as it was Gibbs was as close as he really had to a father figure and his friends consisted of the people inside the building currently grinning at Ziva.

"Won't let me help," he mumbled.

"So?"

"So? So I-" And he broke off because he really didn't know what to say. What did he say? So? I really thought she was going to let me be, I don't know, part of her life? So? I really wanted to be kind of special to her? In the end he settled on something less desperate sounding and way more understated. "So I wanted to."

"This is all because of a piano?" The look he was getting now was definitely one that said 'you're nuts'.

"She's pushing me away."

"Because she doesn't need to lean on anyone anymore." Tony snorted. Thanks Boss, sum up what took him twenty minutes to figure out in two seconds.

"Well I liked the leaning. Made me feel …" he winced, "wanted."

"Sounds like a personal problem." Gibbs pushed to his feet and Tony stayed on the ground wondering if this won the award for worst pep talk ever. He felt even more crummy than before.

"It is."

"That's what I thought. What isn't a personal problem is Abby confused and Ziva upset because you walked out on them. Go fix that." He turned, walked ten feet to toss his empty coffee cup and then turned back around to look at him. "Now Dinozzo."

"Right on it Boss," he mumbled, pushing off the ground. God he felt old all of a sudden. Ridiculously, horribly old.

"Tony."

"Yah Boss." A hand settled heavy on his shoulder, pushing him towards the building he had run out of so quickly. It still seemed smothering and just a little too much.

"It'll work out."

"I sure hope so." Tony rolled his shoulders as he walked and reminded himself of the one redeeming factor in this whole mess; she was at least happy. Happy without him, but the happy was something. He'd just have to work on the whole without him part. Somehow. The damn pigeons were still picking at his sandwich. His stomach felt so sick he wasn't sure how he'd managed the few bites that he had. Gibbs held the door open for him. Abby frowned at him when she saw him. Ziva turned. Blinked at him. And then smiled. A smile that looked only a hair tentative and unsure. Probably because of him. The smile he tugged up for her in response felt like it was coming from somewhere around his ankles and hurt like hell to put on his face. He didn't want to smile, he wanted to go get drunk so that when he cried he could blame it on the alcohol.

[] Up next? A drunk Tony I believe. Despite the somber mood here, I do hope you enjoyed. I shall see you next chapter, probably sometime this weekend or early next week at the latest. :)