A/N: Geez, Tony really needs to man up already, doesn't he?
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.


It took Tony a week to finally take the white-knuckled leap into action. A week in which he'd watched Ziva carefully for signs that she might either be more receptive to his argument for taking a stab at happily ever after, or otherwise look like she might shoot him for even raising the issue. He had lost count of how many times he had talked himself into and out of putting everything on the line for her until finally he woke up on Saturday morning feeling brave enough to make an attempt. Or perhaps that should be stupid enough.

As he got ready for the day with the knowledge that one way or another, this would be the day to change his life, his heart pounded hard and fast. His arms and hands started feeling weak from nerves though the morning, and by lunchtime his stomach was knotted so tightly that he couldn't make himself eat. On the way to her apartment in the afternoon he drove much slower than usual and took the scenic route, and when he got out of the car on her street his legs felt like lead. By the time he stood in front of her door he thought he might throw up, so he ended up standing in the hall for a minute as he tried to get a grip.

He kept telling himself that he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. That he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't argue his side. That refusing to talk to each other about what they wanted was what had them in this crappy situation, and that remaining silent would only make things worse. He had to do this. He could do this. And he would do it. Now.

Tony whispered a silent prayer under his breath and then reached out to knock on her door. There was no turning back. He heard her soft footfalls on the other side of the door, and before he could change his mind again and sprint down the hallway and out of her building the door opened and Ziva looked at him with surprise.

He forced a smile. "Hey."

"Hello."

They stared at each other awkwardly. Tony swallowed and reminded himself that he actually needed to do some talking here. They were good at reading each other's minds, but not that good.

"Um, are you busy?" he asked. "In the middle of anything?"

Ziva's eyes drifted to her left, as if trying to remind herself what she had been doing before he arrived. "No," she said slowly, and then shook her head as her brain kicked into gear. Was his presence really that unexpected that she was struck dumb? "Uh, no. Come in."

She opened the door wider for him and Tony stepped into her apartment. He hadn't been there since the night they'd found out Ray had died, and the place had been filled with sadness. Despite the sun streaming in through the windows, fresh flowers on the table and soft classical music playing, today the apartment still felt sad. He didn't think he'd ever felt less comfortable in her space before.

They shared another awkward silence, and Tony broke her gaze to glance around them for some kind of lifeline that might relax them both. His eyes fell on a gleaming coffee machine on the kitchen counter that hadn't been there a few weeks ago.

"Hey, you got a new coffee machine."

"Yes."

His smile turned a little more natural. "The coffee's much better, isn't it?"

Ziva crossed her arms tightly over her stomach. "It is fine. Would you like a cup?"

"No," he said quickly. "I'm jittery enough."

Ziva eyed him warily. "Why?"

Tony swallowed and then tapped into the more confident personality he put on every day to cover up his insecurities. "I wanted to talk to you. About us."

Ziva's lips parted a few millimeters, and the wary look in her eyes deepened. It wasn't the encouragement Tony had wanted but it was certainly what he expected. He pressed on through her silence.

"Since we had that conversation—you know, that one?" He paused briefly for her confirmation. "Things with us have been strained. And I don't like it."

Ziva blew out a slow, controlled breath. "Tony," she said thickly. "Things will get better. In time."

Tony shook his head. "I don't agree with you."

"We must be patient—"

"No," he said, and took a step towards her. "I mean I don't agree with you walking away."

He could see Ziva's pulse jumping in her neck when she said, "What?"

"You walked away because you were tired of pretending," he reminded her. "But I don't agree that it's what you should have done."

It seemed to dawn on her where he was directing the conversation, and she started shaking her head. "Tony, don't do it," she said softly.

Tony forged on, refusing to be disheartened. Yet. "I'm doing it," he told her.

Ziva took a step back. "Don't."

"I am."

"Please."

He let go of an irritated sigh. God, she was so stubborn. This was just like her. "Just stop fighting and listen to me."

Ziva stepped towards the door. "Tony, you should go."

He didn't follow her. Instead, he stepped further into her apartment to make it clear that he wasn't going anywhere. "I won't," he replied, every bit as stubborn as her. "You got to say your piece, so now I'm saying mine. I want to have it out again."

Ziva's shoulders fell and she rubbed at her forehead. "Because it was so much fun the first time," she muttered.

Tony took her sarcasm in stride. "Well, I'm a lot more fun than you. So strap in, Ziva."

The phrase brought Ziva's 404: file not found expression to her face. "What?"

"Just listen!" he cried, throwing his hands in the air. "God!"

Ziva put her hands up in defense and surrender. "There is no need to get snippy."

"Well stop being stubborn and hear me out," he countered.

Ziva closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Tony took one with her, and once they had both calmed down a little, she nodded at him to say what he had to say.

"You told me, when we had that conversation, that you wanted me to be happy, and you wanted me to be loved," he said, trying hard to keep his voice even.

Ziva's face took on the same sad expression she had been looking at him with for the last few weeks. The one he hated so much. But there was honesty in her eyes. "Yes. Of course I do."

"So when was it that you decided that you weren't going to be that person to love me and make me happy?" he asked, his frankness shocking both of them. But he didn't back down. He went further. "Because I was sure we were getting there last year, Ziva. I was sure of it. And then suddenly Ray was there. Out of nowhere. You were seeing another man and things changed between us, and I had no idea what was going on."

His hurt over her actions was clear, and Ziva's expression turned apologetic.

"This whole year, I've been confused by you," he told her, although without accusation. "More than normal. You wouldn't tell me where I stood or what you were doing with Ray. You wanted me to ask, knowing full well that I couldn't. Because you were right, nothing has ever been acknowledged between us. Not until last month, when you gave up and let go, and tried to make out like you were doing me a favor."

For a few moments, it looked to him like Ziva would engage in the conversation and start explaining her affair with Ray. But then she shook her head firmly and crossed her arms again. "I do not want to talk about this, Tony. It is what it is. We must both accept it."

But her dismissal wasn't acceptable to him. He advanced on her again. "No, we're talking," he said firmly. "You're always the stubborn one, but I'm even more stubborn today. Too stubborn to let go. So we're going to talk about this. We're going to resolve it. I need to understand what happened, Ziva, because it's driving me crazy."

"I told you what happened," Ziva said, her voice rising. "I could not keep doing it. I was too exhausted to keep telling myself to wait because it would happen one day. And we were both miserable."

"So you thought you'd tell me all this by dating another guy and ignoring the steps we'd made?"

Ziva's head whipped up and she looked at him with what appeared to be offense. "It was never my intention to hurt you or confuse you, Tony," she argued. "And maybe I should have discussed it with you. I considered it. But I was sure I would humiliate myself in the process."

"Why?"

"Because we've never talked about this!" she replied with tears forming in her eyes. "I have never been sure what, if anything, you feel for me! I did not know that you thought we were making some kind of progress in our relationship."

"Well, I did."

"And now I know that."

"Did you think we were getting somewhere?"

Ziva pursed her lips, as if trying to stop herself from answering. But she couldn't. "Yes," she admitted.

He was stung by that. She had given up despite feeling that they were getting closer to each other. But what stung more than that was that she had given up and moved on to someone else. He considered how much pride he would lose by asking what he wanted to ask, but decided they were both well past caring now.

He cleared his throat. "So, why then did you start a relationship with Ray?"

Ziva slowly paced over to her couch and took a seat on the arm. Her arms fell away from her chest and she gripped the pristine white fabric by her hips. And somehow he knew that she was going to give him the truth.

"I was mad at you for missing my citizenship ceremony," she told him softly, and the way she quickly dropped his gaze and found it again made him think she felt the charge wasn't warranted. Tony did, though. He still felt awful for breaking his promise, even though there was nothing he could have done to change it.

Ziva echoed the sentiment. "I know it was not your fault," she assured him. "But I was still mad. And I could not take it out on you because you were just following orders." She paused to let out a self-aware snort. "I, more than anyone, know all about orders."

Tony gave her half a smile as he remembered meeting her again after months at sea. She'd talked about following orders then—doing what you were told to even if you didn't like it. In a way, that summed up why they'd never had a relationship.

"I was not looking for it," Ziva went on. "But when I met Ray in Miami, he was easy to talk to. He did not know the old Ziva, and so he did not know that he should be disappointed in who I am now."

Tony didn't understand. "Disappointed?"

Ziva rolled her eyes at herself before her eyes settled on the floor. "I used to be so much more effective. I thought that if I learned how to open myself up to people then it could help me improve myself more, but…" She paused and then let out a shaky breath. "Somehow I became much worse."

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked, frowning deeply. "Where do you get that idea?"

Sad, hurt eyes lifted to meet his. "From you."

Tony blinked and drew his head back in shock. "What? I have never said that. Or even thought it!"

"You told me you missed the old Ziva," she reminded him.

He nodded slowly, still confused and surprised by her accusation. "I do," he admitted, then added quickly, "But not because I think you're somehow worse or because I'm disappointed with who you are."

"You just don't love who I am now," she said thickly, shrugging one shoulder as if she had already accepted it and it was no longer a big deal. "You found me more loveable when I was hard and unreadable and—"

"Stop it," he cut in. "That's not what I meant."

Ziva didn't respond, but looked at him curiously. Tony took a moment to pace around and dissolve some of the tension, and to get his racing heart to slow down. Ziva stayed quiet, giving him time to get his thoughts in order. When he finally did, he stood right in front of her, looked her in the eye and then explained himself.

"It used to be easier," he said. "You and me. It was easier when all I wanted was to have a lot of sex with you."

Ziva looked caught between laughter and offense. He couldn't blame her; he was close to laughing as well. But he still had some explaining to do.

"I miss the old Ziva because she didn't keep me awake at night thinking about what I'm going to do if she decides to marry that guy." His voice was thin from being pushed through his tight throat, so he swallowed hard before continuing. "Or how I'm going to stand there and smile as she does it. The old Ziva didn't make me think so hard about every single word I said for fear of giving away how I felt about her. The old Ziva was easy to get along with because back then, I didn't know that I would go halfway around the world to get revenge for her death, even though I was pretty sure it would lead to mine. And that I kind of wanted it to."

Ziva's breath caught with his admission, and he watched tears fill her eyes. He had never admitted that aloud before. Had barely allowed himself to form the thought. But it was the truth. When he packed for the horror trip to Somalia, he had not expected to ever return. At the time he was so grief-stricken and lost that he did not see the point. But then she had appeared before him, alive if not well, and he found the will to fight. For her. In that sandy hellhole, he believed that he lived and died with her. He had told her that, hadn't he? Perhaps he needed to remind her.

"When you were the old Ziva, I didn't know that one day, I wouldn't be able to live without you. Or want to live without you. That's why I said I missed the old Ziva."

She stared at him mutely for the longest time. Tony waited it out—waited for some kind of reaction—with shaking hands and tightness in his chest brought on from knowing that he'd just changed their relationship irrevocably. He just didn't know if it would be for the better or for the much, much worse.

Finally, just as he approached the brink of breaking down and begging for a goddamn response, Ziva sniffed back tears, cast her eyes down and then got to her feet. Tony stood his ground and prepared himself for whatever she would say. Even if it was not complimentary, he still needed to hear it. He needed honesty. They'd been lying and pretending for far too long.

Her cheeks and eyelashes were wet when Ziva lifted her head to look at him, but she gave him a small, rueful smile. "I think we need to work on our verbal communication."

He returned the smile. They were great at non-verbal communication, but some thoughts could not be explained or understood from a frown or smile. "I'll add that to the list of behaviors I need to improve before the end of the year," he said.

Her smile briefly grew. "So will I." She took a deep breath and let it out in a quick sigh. "I started a relationship with Ray because you are unattainable. You always have been. Having a long-distance relationship meant that I could feel as thought I was moving on from you, without having to deal with the daily intimacy with someone else. It gave me a sense of control over what was happening between you and I. Ray was kind. And a relationship with him was not wrong."

He started to understand, but he had to disagree. "We're not wrong, Ziva."

"We are against the rules," she reminded him in a whisper, as if afraid of being overheard even discussing the issue.

He dropped his voice in kind and shook his head. "I don't care about the rules."

Ziva looked skeptical. "Not caring about them with EJ is very different to not caring about them with me."

He knew the point she was making. He worked closer with Ziva, which meant countless opportunities to screw up a relationship, working or romantic. But he chose to see the other side of it.

"You're right," he said. "Because we've been to hell and back. We've seen each other's worsts. That cannot be denied. But I still want to break the rules for you."

Ziva cocked her head to the side, incredulous. "You are serious about this," she stated, seemingly just coming to the realization that he was here to fight her until the situation was resolved in the way he wanted it to be. He didn't know why she was so surprised about that. Wasn't that how they usually solved a problem?

"I'm very serious," he told her.

"You just broke up with EJ," she reminded him.

"So?"

"So I am not going to be your rebound fling!" she cried.

It was Tony's turn to be shocked into momentary silence before coming back at her with utter offense. "Do you think that's what I'm doing here?" he asked with disbelief. "I haven't spent six years falling in love with you but pretending that I don't have those feelings just to screw it up now with a month-long affair."

Ziva swiped tears from her cheeks and started pacing the floor in front of him. She held her hands to her mouth as if desperately trying to keep herself together, and then looked at him pleadingly. "Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, her voice tight and thin. "I closed the door on you. Why are you now throwing yourself against it?"

He stepped up to her again and reached out a hand. "Ziva—"

But Ziva pulled away and around him, back towards the door. "Do you have any idea how hard it has been to close myself off from you?" she asked. "To shut down any hope of being with you? And now you are telling me that I can have it?"

Tony chased her. "Yeah, I know how hard it is, Ziva. Because I tried to do it too. But I can't."

"We're hard," Ziva argued, anguish twisting her face. "We're so hard, Tony."

"I know," he said, getting a hand on her arm this time. "That's what I told myself when EJ came along. That it was okay to give up on you because you'd already given up on me." He paused as the residual hurt from that stabbed his chest and momentarily stole his breath. "And because we were always going to be so hard. But you know what I've realized?"

Ziva shook her head, her eyes pleading with him not to go on. He ignored her.

"I realized that it can't be harder than this, Ziva. Nothing can be harder than this. Living through every day with you and acting like you're just a friend. That I only love you like I love Abby. This is the hardest thing I've ever done."

Ziva gave him a small nod that told him she knew exactly what he meant. "I know," she said softly.

He dropped his hand down her arm to grip her fingers. "I can't keep standing over here while you're all the way over there," he told her. "I can't keep looking over my shoulder to see who's around before I touch your arm or smile at you. It's too hard. It's exhausting."

"I know," she repeated, but he still heard the fight in her voice. She still wasn't backing down. But neither was he. He had warned her that he was too stubborn to let go, and he hadn't been exaggerating. Now that he was in the middle of this conversation that had terrified him for years, and now that he had confessed how he felt and what he desperately wanted from her without the sky falling in, he wasn't afraid to push it further. In fact, he felt like he was on a roll.

"I want to propose a different way of dealing with this."

Ziva took her hand back and shook her hand firmly. "No."

"I want to give in," he went on. "It's the path of least resistance. It's too hard to live like this, so I'm giving in. The heart wants what it wants, right?"

The statement carried history with it, but Ziva seemed annoyed by it. "That is such an overly romantic statement that just does not apply in the real world," she griped.

"You're the one who said it," he reminded her, but Ziva quickly corrected his memory.

"I didn't!" she insisted. "I do not know where you got this idea in your head," she said, stabbing her index finger towards her forehead. "But I never said it."

Tony frowned. EJ said it the other night, but he'd definitely talked about it with Ziva before. "Somebody said it," he replied.

"It was you!" she cried, throwing up her hands with familiar frustration. "You said it."

He shook his head, positive he didn't. Maybe. "I think it was someone else."

Ziva planted her hands on her hips. "Not me."

Tony let it go. The origin of the saying wasn't what was important right now. "Okay, but don't you believe it?"

She sighed heavily. "Yes, I believe it. I live it, Tony. But it is not practical—"

He cut her off with a groan. "Ugh! What do practicalities matter here? Why do you always have to be so practical?"

"Why are you always so emotional?" she shot back.

"I can't help it!"

"Well, neither can I," she said pointedly. She dragged a tired hand through her hair and shot him a knowing look. "This is why—"

"No," he pre-empted, and pointed a warning finger at her. "It's not why we won't work."

Ziva paused and narrowed her eyes. "Why we fight," she finished. She lifted an eyebrow that dared him to argue, and Tony tried to look contrite.

"Oh. Yes. It is why we fight."

Ziva accepted his concession, and then they both took a few moments to calm down and regroup. She took a seat at her dining table, and, beginning to tire from the barrage of honesty and emotion, Tony followed her lead.

"Okay," he said, preparing to give it another go. "We both agree that the heart wants what it wants. Practicalities aside."

"Practical is the world I live in," she said evenly.

"No, it's not," he argued with as little argument in his voice as he could manage. "It's not practical to have a long-distance relationship. Or to fall for a dying man. Or to second-guess yourself and me and Gibbs and continue a relationship—"

"This is your grand plan for convincing me to change my mind?" she asked warningly.

"I'm pointing out that you live in an emotional world, not a practical one."

She narrowed her eyes again. "And that has clearly led me to make bad decisions."

"No. You make bad decisions because you don't know how to be happy." It was as true for Ziva as it was for him, Tony was sure of it. As uncomfortable as the charge was to hear, EJ had been right.

Ziva looked fleetingly hurt, but not as surprised by the revelation as Tony had been. She crossed her arms as her eyes darted away from his. "You are going from strength to strength here, DiNozzo," she grumbled. "I cannot wait to hear what you have to say next."

She was being sarcastic, but Tony chose to oblige her. He leaned over the table towards her. "I don't know how to be happy either. And that's what got us here. Neither of us have a clue how to be happy. But we both want it."

Ziva opened her mouth to respond, and he knew from the look in her eye that she was going to argue the point. He spread his hands.

"Oh, you can't possibly ague that point," he said.

Her chest fell as the argument went out of her. "Fine," she allowed. "I want to be happy."

"And you don't think that listening to what your heart wants might help?"

"Of course," Ziva said, but the hopelessness in her voice didn't match the words. "But it is just not that easy."

"Why not?"

She shrugged, completely at a loss to explain it. "I do not know. But no matter what it is with you, whether we are getting along or if we are at odds or if we are somewhere in the middle, it is just always hard."

He conceded her point with a tip of his head, but thought he had the answer to that. "It's because we're lying all the time, Ziva. I share more words with you than anyone else in my life, but you're probably the person I'm the least honest with. And I'm just so sick of that."

He watched tears form in her eyes again as they held gazes. Honestly, he was getting close to crying himself. But then Ziva got up and started pacing again, and Tony decided that he'd keep his mouth shut until she'd gotten her thoughts in order. He knew he had blindsided her today, and that generally Ziva didn't like to be surprised. The fact that she had let him argue with her for as long as she had without physically shoving him out of her house was a good enough sign that despite her protests, she was actually listening to him and considering his proposition. But he also knew that if he kept pushing her without giving her at least a few moments of quiet time to think, chances were very good that she would stop listening all together, throw up her roadblocks and shut him down for good.

Why did she have to be so damn complex?

Tony bit his tongue for almost a full minute while she paced and considered and calmed down. Then she stopped abruptly, gripped the back of the dining chair she had been sitting in and looked down at him apprehensively.

"You think that if we start being honest with each other, then things will get easier, just like that?"

"Not just like that," he said. "But yes, I think it will get better."

"But I was honest with you, Tony," she said with forced calm. "Weeks ago, in that locker room, I was honest with you. And since then things between us have been awful."

He started to roll his eyes but caught himself before he offended her again. "Yeah, because we've been trying to stay away from each other," he said obviously. "And because there have been other parties in the way."

Ziva took his meaning about EJ and Ray, but shook her head. "No other parties have been on the scene for a few weeks now. And our relationship is still awful."

"Residual partying," he counted. "It's the party hangover."

Ziva waved her hands in front of her, signaling for him to stop. "No, it's—"

"But I was at the wrong party," he said, talking over her and getting to his feet. He was ready for round two. Or three or four or whatever they were up to now. "And so were you. That's why we feel sick, right? Because the other parties were serving the wrong drinks. But if you'd just come to my party I would have given you a white rum mojito. Not a vodka one, because that does make you sick. And you would've gotten me a scotch and soda and we would have been fine, you and me."

Ziva considered that quietly for a moment with an impassive expression. "I am beginning to lose patience for this analogy," she informed him. "I need you to speak in plain English."

"I'm just saying that we should have accepted what we both wanted years ago," he said, stepping slowly towards her. "If we did, we'd probably both be happy now. But it's not too late."

Ziva bit her lip as he approached her again. He got to within two feet before she stepped back, and he stopped at the boundary she was currently comfortable with. He could see her crumbling and caving as he continued to push. He knew he was bullying her now, and he hated it. But this relationship was too important to let go. If she were anyone else, he probably would have made a case and then run away with his tail between his legs the first time he was blocked out. But this was Ziva, and he couldn't give up. He was keeping his word to be stubborn about this, and heeding Gibbs' orders to listen to his gut. Despite the emotional ringer he was putting Ziva through now, his gut was telling him to keep going. So although he wanted to apologize for harassing and upsetting her and then leave her until she'd had all the time she needed to think, he wouldn't. He knew how their relationship went. If he walked away now, everything he'd said today would be for nothing. They'd sweep it under the rug and never speak if it again.

Screw that.

"It's not too late, Ziva," he repeated.

Another tear fell down her cheek, and her voice started to crack. "Tony, please hear me. I don't know how to do this with you."

"Neither do I," he said honestly. "But we'll work it out."

"But if we fail, that's worse than never having you."

He took half a step towards her, feeling her resistance beginning to weaken. "No, if we fail, then we fail," he said softly, not wanting to scare her away now. "But at least we'll know. Don't you want to know?"

Another tear fell as Ziva shook her head.

"Yes, you do. And you want it to work."

She looked away into the kitchen, avoiding looking at him. Tony stepped right up to her until their chests were almost touching, and his heart slammed so hard he could feel his whole body rocking from it as he reached out and held her wrists gently in his hands.

"Look at me," he whispered.

Ziva shook her head softly again and closed her eyes, setting more tears free.

"Please, Ziva."

He listened to her harsh, shallow and shuddering breaths as she battled herself over what to do. He understood why it was hard. She had made a decision—one that she was sure was the best for everyone—and now he was asking her to change her mind. She's been as hurt by their relationship as he had been over the years, and thought that walking away from it would help her heal. But now he was suggesting that a better way to do that would be to do the opposite. If she did things her way, she could control how much pain she would suffer. If she did it his way, it meant giving up control and potentially exposing herself to even worse pain if they just couldn't make it work. He had never known Ziva to relinquish control very easily, so he just had to pray that he'd convinced her that he—that the two of them together—was worth the leap of faith.

He put his hand to her cheek to pull her closer, and Ziva's eyes opened again at the touch. "Ziva, I want to know," he told her, and stroked her cheek with is thumb as he took a breath for courage. "I love you. And I need you, because you get me. And I want to know."

Fresh tears slid down Ziva's cheeks as she laid her hands on his chest. Either she would push him away or pull him closer. Tony tempted fate and leant into the touch, and moved his hands to her hips to draw her closer. She didn't resist, but she didn't encourage him either.

"Are you going to screw me around, Tony?" she asked in a hush. "Are you going to use me or lie to me?"

He sighed heavily and dipped his head until his forehead touched hers. "I've always had your back, Ziva."

She sniffed back her tears. "I know. But I have been so terribly wrong about others in the past. And if you betrayed me…I do not think I could recover from that."

He leant back just far enough to look her in the eyes. "I'm not going to let you down," he promised solemnly. "I'm not going to lie to you. I have your back. And I know we can do this. Yeah?"

Ziva's face crumbled before her hands on his chest curled into fists around his shirt and she pulled herself against him. Tony felt the stiffness in her body melt away, and in the next moment her soft, hot lips were on his. At first he wasn't sure whether the kiss was a hello or a final goodbye, but as it got more desperate and intense and her hands pulled him closer, he understood that he'd finally gotten through to her. He kissed her back with all the intensity he felt, feeding his need to have her as close as possible and leaving no room to doubt that he would throw himself at this relationship completely. And if he read Ziva's intent behind her kiss correctly, she would meet him right in the middle.

He lost his breath too quickly and broke the kiss to pant against her. Ziva looked up at him with dark, molten eyes that sent his blood pressure soaring. He swallowed hard, and double-checked that he had read the situation right before he let himself make a few life-long promises to himself. "Yes?"

Ziva closed her eyes and nodded, as if reaffirming her decision to herself. "Yes," she whispered. "I love you. Yes."

A wide smile broke over his face, and although his heart still pounded incredibly hard, the pain associated with his previous panic dissolved. He slid his arms around her back as Ziva smiled back at him—a real, open, honest smile—and resisted the urge to shout a hallelujah! to the heavens.

"You're going to have my back," he stated, loving the new twist to the vow and the relief it brought to know that she'd be there for good to kiss and adore every day for the rest of his life.

Ziva stretched to give him a quick, soft kiss before giving him a look of blatant love that smashed his heart in the best possible way. "Tony, I will always have your back."

Despite the fight she'd put up today, he believed her. Because Ziva David had always been as stubborn as hell.


I'm very nervous about this, but I just hope that the payoff was worth the angst that came before it. One more chapter to go. My continued gratitude to everyone who takes the time to read, and particularly to those who take the time to review.

Slightly off topic (and a comment that will date quickly), how good was Shabbat Shalom? Hoo-boy. Roll on Shiva.