CHAPTER ELEVEN – "Should have read the writing on the wall"
As soon as he answered the phone, he knew it was a mistake. Ziva was watching him closely, despite her protests, she seemed unable to supress her curiosity. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide his reaction for long, and this phone call would change everything.
When he hung up, he was unable to comprehend much more than what Abby had told him.
Ziva was still watching him carefully, surprised that she was unable to decipher his expression.
It didn't seem as though he was going to tell her what the results were, and after a few minutes, she couldn't help herself.
"You have to tell me now."
"I thought you didn't want to know," he shot back.
"Well, now that you know, you might as well tell me. It will be clear soon enough,"
"Fine," he conceded. He knew she was right, as soon as he saw Jamie his poker face would fall to pieces. He cleared his throat, watching her closely, waiting to gauge her reaction.
"He's my son."
She bit her lip, nodding. All of those moments in the past that had made her doubt that Daniel was Jamie's father were coming to the surface, impossible to repress. The way Jamie seemed to have a hard-wired interest in basketball, despite Daniel's lack of interest in it. The way he smiled – an animated grin that she had never seen on anyone except Tony.
She sighed softly. She had made the wrong decision. Everything seemed to be telling her that. She had denied Tony his right as a parent to know his son. She had let Jamie grow up calling a man daddy who had no right to that claim, other than her belief that he was worthy of it.
"Are you disappointed?" Tony asked, concerned by her silence.
She shook her head. "It's just… this seems to make everything more complicated."
"How?" He frowned. From where he was standing, it was easy. "You tell Daniel the truth, and you and Jamie leave him."
Was he really that naïve?
"He will want some sort of shared custody arrangement. I can't do that, Tony," she explained.
"You cannot stay with him," he spat. "Leaving Jamie, and the fact that I don't want that asshole raising my son for one more day of his life out of this; you can't just stay with him, playing the perfect wife while he does whatever the hell he wants!"
"Tony," she spoke quietly, a severe contrast to his yelling.
"I won't just stand by and let that happen, Ziva," he told her adamantly.
She was struck by his reaction, but refused to show it.
"Can we just talk about this tomorrow?" She asked, and he was about to tell her no, before he looked at her, and saw the exhaustion in her eyes, from a day that had been shattering.
"Okay," he sighed, sitting beside her.
"You got ice cream, Ziva?" He asked instead.
"Yes," she responded absently, her mind elsewhere.
"Good, because nights like these are why ice cream was invented," he informed her, approaching the freezer.
"Well there's vanilla, and that rainbow crap that Jamie likes," she said, without any form of interest.
"Rainbow crap! How dare you Ziva," he teased good-naturedly, hoping for a response. He got none. "I guess I'll get you vanilla," he added, and she smiled. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.
He got himself a small bowl of Jamie's ice cream, and ended up just handing her the carton of vanilla with a spoon. She hesitated at first, but then clearly realised that there were more important things to worry about.
They talked about everything except Daniel, and what would come of the whole situation. He told her about a few particularly interesting cases they had since she left, and she told him how long it took her to adjust to not working at NCIS.
It was after midnight when they heard Jamie scream "mommy", and Ziva was in his room before Tony even had a chance to get up.
He found her sitting on the edge of his bed, stroking his hair back.
"It's okay," she soothed.
"What's wrong?" Tony questioned, unable to take his eyes of Jamie. It was the first time he had looked at Jamie knowing for sure that he was his son, and suddenly his eyes looked less like Ziva's and more like his, in shape at least.
"Had a bad dream," Jamie explained.
"It's okay," Ziva repeated, pulling him into a hug. Tony wondered whether she hugged him to comfort the child or herself.
Of all the women he had slept with in his life, he found it hard to believe that it was Ziva who had his child and didn't tell him about it. But if he had to choose one of them to raise his child, Ziva would be at the top of the list. Just from watching her with Jamie, he knew that even if he wasn't there, the boy would become a good man, all because of her.
"Why is Tony still here?" Jamie asked, and Tony finally tore his eyes off Jamie to look at Ziva.
"We were just talking. He's going home soon," Ziva assured him, and Tony's eyes dropped. He didn't ever want to leave.
"Can I talk to him first?" Jamie requested, and Tony turned his gaze back to the child, surprised.
Ziva gave him a look he hadn't seen in years, the one that said so clearly if you tell him I'll kill you with a paperclip, and he almost smiled. She left the room, and Tony took her place, sitting on the edge of Jamie's bed.
"What's up?" He asked, regret suddenly flowing through him. If only he had tried harder, asked Ziva again if the baby was his. If he hadn't run from the possibility, he could have spent every night of Jamie's life like this, tucking him in, saying goodnight.
"Is mommy still sad?" Jamie inquired, and Tony wondered how the boy went from being so scared himself to worrying about his mother.
"She's feeling a bit better," Tony said carefully, although he wasn't sure that she was. In fact she was probably feeling worse.
"Did you make her feel better?"
Tony smiled. "I hope so,"
"She likes it when I hug her. You should hug her too, then she won't be as sad," Jamie promised, and Tony nodded.
"Thanks. You go back to sleep."
He didn't know what to do after that, but Jamie seemed to; he sat up and gave Tony a hug.
Tony squeezed his eyes shut, hugging him back.
"Can you stay until I do?" Jamie requested, falling back onto his pillow.
"Sure." Tony sat on the floor, watching as the boy's eyes slowly closed a few minutes later and then waited a few more minutes before leaving the room.
He found Ziva almost asleep on the couch, only awake through sheer determination, he was sure.
"What did he want to talk to you about?" She asked sleepily, sitting up straighter.
"Secret men's business," he said with a smile, sitting beside her. "You should go to bed, you're exhausted."
She stood, and looked at him for a moment, noticing his unwillingness to leave.
"You can stay here tonight, if you want," she offered, sounding as if she couldn't care less what he did. "On the couch," she clarified, and he laughed.
He wondered if she offered because she wanted him to stay. Or maybe he hoped.
"Thanks," he nodded. "If it's okay…" He started, and then he thought maybe she only offered because she could tell he didn't want to leave. She left the room and returned with a blanket and a pillow, handing them to him and disappearing into her room without a word.
She closed the bedroom door with a sigh, sitting on her side of the bed and staring at the photo on her nightstand, the one taken at the wedding. It was a small ceremony, Tony didn't even come. She had known when they got married that she wasn't in love with Daniel. She was just surprised that he had known; that he had called her on it. But she had known that she could love him, if she let herself, and she was sure that he had loved her. She fell asleep in their all too empty bed, trying to convince herself that it was just like any other night when Daniel was coming home late from work.
. . . . .
Tony woke up with an all too familiar weight on his back.
"You gunna make a habit of this, kid?" he asked, pretending to be angry, and Jamie laughed. Tony couldn't help but smile at that, lifting the child and tickling him. The sound of his laugh was infectious, and soon enough Tony was laughing too.
"Your mom up?" He asked, and Jamie shook his head furiously, still grinning.
"I thought she was always awake before you," he said, glad Jamie wasn't asking why he was sleeping on their couch.
Jamie shrugged and Tony stood, knocking softly on her bedroom door.
"Ziva?" He asked, looking at his watch. 8.12. Definitely late enough to check on her.
He opened the door slowly, to reveal Ziva flung diagonally across the double bed, her hair wild, covering most of her face.
"Ziva?" He asked again, and she groaned, opening an eye. He smiled. Five years ago she would have pulled a gun from under her pillow and have it aimed at his head by now.
"It's after eight," he informed her, and she sat up reluctantly.
"What day is it?" She asked.
"You been drinking without me last night?" He questioned jokingly, thankful when she shook her head. "It's Saturday," he added.
She nodded slowly, rubbing her eyes, and before he knew it she was back to Ziva.
"Jamie will want breakfast; on Saturday we have pancakes."
She stood quickly, wrapping her robe around her pyjama-clad body before following Tony to the kitchen.
They found Jamie in the living room, looking up at Daniel, who stood beside him.
"You're just as bad as me," Daniel accused softly, and it took all of the self-control Tony had not to punch him.
Tony wanted to tell him to piss off, because he had no right to be in her life, or Jamie's. But Ziva clearly didn't want to tell him that, or she would have already.
Ziva sighed, raking a hand through her unruly hair. She wasn't ready to deal with him – not yet.
She stared at Tony, the look in her eyes begging him to take Jamie and leave her and Daniel to fight this out alone, but his feet remained rooted to the ground, as he pretended not to be able to read the look she was giving him.
"Why don't you go, Tony, this has nothing to do with you," Daniel told him, each word dripping with condescension.
"It has everything to do with me," Tony spat back, but when he glanced at Ziva he shut up. Her look was pleading him to be quiet, to let it go, to leave her to handle it.
"I guess I'm taking Jamie to breakfast," Tony said, dejected, taking Jamie's hand. "Why don't you go get dressed buddy?" He requested, and Jamie nodded, running to his room.
Tony knew that Daniel was trying to stare him down, but he just kept his eyes on Ziva. She was staring back at him with a look he hadn't seen before, one that was appreciative, yet laced with sorrow. In the absence of conversation he snuck a look at Daniel, who was angry, yet non-threatening.
"I'm going to go see how Jamie is doing," he announced, breaking the silence.
He found Jamie sitting on his bedroom floor, wearing jeans, and the jersey Tony had given him for his birthday over a t-shirt, trying to tie his shoes.
"Mommy and daddy never fight," Jamie said. Tony could hear the sadness in his voice, and when he moved to face him he saw the tears clouding his eyes.
"It'll be okay," he said, trying to mimic Ziva's soothing tone from the night before. "What do you want for breakfast?" He questioned, in an attempt to change the topic of conversation. He didn't know how to explain this to Jamie, or what to say.
"Did daddy make mommy sad?" Jamie asked, and Tony sighed, taking Jamie's jacket.
"They just have some grown up things to talk about." Tony explained poorly, unsure of how to avoid a topic with a five year old who asked a hell of a lot of questions. "Let's just go grab some breakfast. What do you want, pancakes?"
Jamie nodded, finally smiling. "And a milkshake,"
"And a milkshake, okay," Tony nodded, following him to the living room. Ziva and Daniel were silent, waiting for Jamie to leave.
"Bye baby, have fun with Tony," Ziva hugged Jamie, and Daniel gave him a forced smile.
"Bye Jame," he said, and Jamie hugged Daniel's leg when he didn't lean down to hug him too.
"Bye Daddy."
Tony's chest tightened involuntarily. Jamie should be saying that to him, not Daniel. Just that simple word made him hate Ziva, a little.
He heard the screaming begin as soon as he shut the door behind them, talking loudly to try to cover it up.
"So what kind of milkshake do you want?"
. . . . .
"You're the one who's angry at me for having an affair, when the first thing you do is jump into bed with Tony!" Daniel yelled, and Ziva shook her head.
"I didn't sleep with Tony!" She shouted back, and he rolled his eyes.
"And you never have, right?" He asked sarcastically. "You are as much at fault for all of this as I am," he added quietly. She was looking at him with this broken look, a look he had never seen before, so he took a deep breath.
"Ziva," he sighed, "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, and she just stared back at him. "I did love you," he added, knowing that she was doubting it. "When we got married I was so in love with you. But didn't love me," he told her, and her gaze shifted, because she knew that it was the truth. "You were in love with him."
Her eyes were no longer clouded with anger, and she blinked in an attempt to hide the fear they now displayed. Fear that he could see right through her. That he had always been able to see right through her.
"You know it's true. You hid it well," he acknowledged. "I thought that when he dropped out of your life after Jamie was born that it would go away. That you'd finally give us a shot. But then I would hear you talking to him on the phone in the middle of the night when you were up with Jamie."
"What?" She asked, her voice not able to hide the surprise as well as she had hoped.
"Ziva," he shook his head. "You may not have known it, or wanted to admit it, but I could tell."
She shook her head, but he just placed a hand on her shoulder. He may have meant for the gesture to comfort her, but it had the opposite effect.
"This is all too much," she muttered.
"I wanted to believe that if I fought hard enough for you, that you would love me in time. But eventually I realised you'd never love me like you loved him."
She felt the heat rushing to her face out of embarrassment, and she didn't understand how he had so successfully turned this around on her.
"You and this woman…" Ziva began, trying to remove the focus from her. "Three years?" she clarified, the one aspect of the whole ordeal she still had trouble comprehending.
"I met her at a conference a little over three years ago. I wasn't… I didn't mean for it to happen. But we just… We just connected…" he shook his head, staring at the ground.
"You… You love her?" She asked, tears flashing in her eyes again, and despite her desire to blink them away, they refused to disappear.
"Ziva," he sighed. "I didn't mean for it to happen," he repeated.
She didn't know if it was better or worse to know that he actually loved her.
"If we didn't have Jamie would you still be with me?"
He asked it neutrally, no underlying agenda, just a simple question.
"Probably not," she admitted softly, after a moment.
"I'm sorry," he told her again, and she nodded.
"We're both in love with other people. But we both love Jamie."
His spelling it out didn't help.
"I, uh… I just need some time," she mumbled, still unable to fully comprehend everything that had occurred in the last twenty four hours.
"Yeah," Daniel sighed. "I think that's a good idea."
. . . . .
Tony sat across from Jamie at breakfast, watching the small child eat, as he realised that he actually knew very little about Jamie. About his son. He knew that his favourite flavour milkshake is chocolate, and that he wants to play basketball, but he didn't know much else.
"What's your middle name, Jamie?" He asked, and Jamie looked up at him.
"Anthony," Jamie replied, his attention on his pancakes.
"Really?" Tony said, a smile spreading across his face. "That's my name, you know."
"Your name's Tony," Jamie answered, frowning, but Tony can't help but grin, regardless of the boy's confusion.
Ziva had given her son, their son, his name. James Anthony. It almost made the fact that he had Daniel's last name bearable.
"Good pancakes," Jamie mumbled in between bites, and Tony just grinned wider.
. . . . .
Tony dragged out the breakfast for as long as he could, not even because he wanted to give Ziva and Daniel as much time as possible to sort things out. He almost couldn't face taking Jamie home, because he knew it would lead to he himself going home. He was fairly sure it was the longest breakfast in history, and he admired Jamie for not whining about it. He definitely had his mother's patience.
When they did go home, Tony told himself that he wouldn't yell or scream or get upset, not in front of Jamie. Even if he went in there and Ziva and Daniel were back to pretending to be the perfect happy couple, he would let it go.
The door was unlocked, and he found Ziva sitting on the couch, clearly exhausted, Daniel nowhere to be seen.
"Where's daddy?" Jamie asked, voicing Tony's question in a much less intrusive manner.
"Daddy's packing a bag, he has to go away for work for a little while," Ziva told Jamie, her eyes focused Tony.
"Again?" Jamie verified, and Ziva just nodded.
When Daniel emerged from the bedroom, he took Jamie's hand.
"C'mon Jamie, we're going to visit grandma for a few days," Daniel told the child, who grinned.
"Mommy too?" He asked, seeming to have already forgotten the lie Ziva had told him about his father going away for work.
"Daniel you can't do this, you can't take him with you," Ziva said indignantly, clearly as surprised as Tony by this arrangement.
"He's my son. I'll bring him back in few days and we can figure some sort of arrangement out then."
But he's not your son! Tony wanted to scream, but Jamie was standing between them, already confused enough.
"I won't let you take him," Ziva said, and Tony just watched her. The old Ziva would have threatened him physically, and had her way in seconds. But the old Ziva wasn't a mother, with a child who looked up to her, and followed her example.
"It's just a few days with grandma. I've already packed some stuff for him. I'll call you tonight so he can talk to you. Say goodbye to mommy," Daniel added, and Jamie turned to Ziva.
"Bye mommy," he said, and she crouched down, hugging him tightly, and looking up at Daniel with tears in her eyes.
"I'm not doing this out of spite, Ziva," he said softly, and she rolled her eyes. She didn't care why he was doing it; she just wanted him to not do it. "I'll bring him back Monday night,"
"What's he going to do when you're at work?" She asked. "You can drop him here…"
"My mom wants to see him, Ziva," he told her, shaking his head. "We'll see you Monday."
Jamie extracted himself from Ziva, giving Tony a hug too.
"Bye, Tony," he said, and Tony hugged him, reluctant to let him go.
"Call when you get there," Ziva said, and Daniel nodded, waving as he took Jamie's hand, leading him out of the apartment.
When the door closed, Ziva let her tears fall, refusing to let Tony comfort her.
"The longest I've been away from him is when he spent the night with you," she admitted, and he sighed.
"It'll be okay, Ziva," he said, although they both knew it wasn't true.
A/N:
1. For iheartiva, Megpie Loves Tiva, and Special Agent Tee-Vah who got the last chapter title!
2. YAY for an extra-long chapter
3. I think it'll probably a week or so before I can start writing the next one (stupid exams) – sorry! This was initially another cliff hanger, but I moved it to the start of the next chapter instead, so you aren't left hanging.
4. Thank you all so much for your reviews, I really appreciate them all, and once exams are over I will be responding to them again.