Hey!

thank you for the reviews, especially for last chapter! the number of review i've been getting have been kind of going down hill, kind of making me think that my writing skills/story is going down hill... :( i really hope not...

special mentions go to SilverStella, GranddaughterOfCaskettAndTiv a, Like a Ship in the Night (who's PM made my day!), prince-bishop, Ami, Robern and EowynGoldberry!

anyways, on with the show!

DISCLAIMER: all publicly recognised characters are not mine. :(

Chapter 14

"So, have you heard that Tony has started to date within his own age range?"

Gibbs couldn't help but let his mouth curl into a smirk at Kate's words. They were sat at Gibbs' table with take-out spread out on the desk in front of them. It was the end of a long day worth of paperwork, the inactivity making Kate as indifferent as ever, and Gibbs extremely on edge. The man of action within him was restless and bored, despite the fact a lot of his previous job involved waiting around. But there was something different between the silence that come before the pulling of the trigger and the silence that proceeded more silence, which seemed to drag on into oblivion. Surprisingly it had been Gibbs' idea to grab dinner, both heading out of the office late that night, later than the rest of the team. It had been Kate who suggested Italian, and so they had bought something and now there they sat in Gibbs' living room, a hearty spread of foods ready for them devoir.

"You say that like it is a bad thing," Gibbs replied, taking a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

"And McGee and Abby!" Kate said, as if Gibbs did not already know, "but aren't you going to do something about it?"

There was a moment of silence where Kate just stared at Gibbs. He was far too busy filling his empty stomach. Some thought that Gibbs lived purely off coffee (or at least, that was the impression that he gave off. He didn't do it on purpose. Sort off). However, his closer friends found out that he was as emotionally attached to food as the next guy was. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy food, he just never had the time or patience that were required to prepare a proper meal. Unless cereal counted as a proper meal. Which it didn't.

Gibbs looked up from his plate to see Kate looking at him with an unimpressed expression on her face. But the grin in her eyes showed what she really thought. This side of Gibbs made him look more like a cuddly teddy than the grizzly bear he was at work. But if anyone at work saw him now, they probably wouldn't believe their own eyes. After all, it was a rare thing to see Leroy Jethro Gibbs with his cheeks full of garlic bread.

"What?" he said with his mouth full, muffling the sound.

"So, are you saying that you endorse these inter-office romances?" Kate pretended to admonished. But there was something in her tone or in her voice, something that made the initial joking statement fell like it had a deeper meaning. This resulted in Gibbs giving her a similarly cryptic response.

"Every situation in unique," he said, looking at her straight in the eye. Kate swallowed at his words and the feeling of those piercing blue eyes on her skin. The intensity of his gaze made Kate's skin heat and her chest tighten in the way that she had never felt before. It wasn't the passionate fire she had felt when she had first encountered Ari in the elevator, it was a deeper fire that was always there, and never seemed to leave her, growing hotter and hotter until it consumed her. She could give in, and she was certain that the rewards would be even better than she could ever dream. But that was only on the condition that Gibbs would return the love in the way Kate knew he could. But he could have any woman he wanted. He could walk into a room, and have woman on their knees with just one look of those piercing eyes. So why would he want her?

Kate had never been insecure. She couldn't afford to be. Fighting her way to the top, protecting the president, it wasn't something she got by wit alone. Grit and determination and a self confidence that had men cowering in corners had got her there. But when it came to Gibbs something changed. To an average passerby, she was exactly the same person, same dry humour, same sarcastic drawl, but there was something different. He was different. For him, she felt like she could never be good enough. She felt that he was the man who she could see herself in love with, but the real fear was the fear that he would reject her, like he did with so many other women. So instead of be rejected, Kate figured it was better to not try and not get burned. It was less painful that way.

When Tony let himself into Ziva's apartment after work that day, he didn't know what he was expecting. He just knew it was not what he saw.

Ziva was stirring a pot of something that smelt like heaven, whilst cradling the phone in the crook of her neck. And she was conversing in rapid Hebrew. Something that Tony rarely heard her do, other than the occasional word of expression. But he had never witnessed a full blown argument.

It was at this moment that Ziva had clearly grown tired with the person at the other end of the phone, and proceeded to hang up on them without saying anything in a way of good bye.

"Who was that?" Tony said, walking in and wrapping his arms around her small waist. No matter how many times he felt her body against his, he could never get enough. She was like his drug, he was never happy until his next fix. But the happy coincidence was that she apparently felt the same way, as she curled herself more fully against him.

"No-one important," Ziva said, wriggling out of his arms so she could turn around and greet him properly. The steamy kiss that she pulled him in for was short and sweet, before Tony forcefully pushed her against the counter, pulled her legs around his waist so he could run his hands across her legs. The black leggings she wore did nothing the deter the sensation that coursed through her at the feel of Tony's larger hot hands on her legs, moving higher and closer, before retreating back to her ankles.

When they broke off for breath Tony's mouth spoke against her neck, making her shudder at the contact.

"Important or not, you sounded pretty worked up about it," he said, his cheek moving against her neck and sending shivers down her spine.

"It was just my father," Ziva said casually.

"I thought your father was dead?"

"I never said that," Ziva said, her response too quick and too defensive.

"You never mentioned him," Tony replied, trying to calm her with fingers ghosting across her neck, "what did he want?"

"He wants me to return to Israel, to fulfil my destiny, to become his child again, nothing new…" Ziva said nonchalantly.

"Destiny? What destiny?" Tony said, now thoroughly confused. But he suspected that this all had something to do with Somalia. Tony had not pushed for more information other than the pieces she had offered that night, but now the missing pieces seemed to be falling into place. The missing pieces being her father.

"Who is your father?" Tony asked softly, sensing that this answer was going to be difficult for both of them.

Ziva sighed, knowing that she would have to tell Tony eventually. She wished that her life was simple, that she didn't come with the excess baggage that she had. No person would boast of all the issues and fractures that she came with. And now, she was going to have to unload all of these problems onto Tony. He didn't deserve all of this. In the way that pained her the most to say, Tony deserved a woman who had a simple past, a loving family, and the intention of having the exact same thing with Tony. But instead, he got her, Ziva David. Baggage and all.

"He is the Director of Mossad."

"Eli David?!" Tony said. In his time with NCIS he had encountered Director David a number of times. And after said times, he felt like he needed a really long how shower to rid him of the director's slimy aura, "you are Ziva David, as in Eli David!"

"Yes, I am," Ziva said calmly.

"Why is that not on file?" Tony blurted out, before wincing. Oops. He shouldn't have said that.

"You've read my file!"

"Only when we first met at the studio while investigating the death. I didn't know you then," Tony said quickly. But to more pressing issues, "so why is it not on file."

"My father disowned my mother and all of us as soon as she took us and fled to the states. He said he wanted nothing to do with her, or us," Ziva said bluntly.

"So if he had disowned you, then legally he has no hold on you."
Ziva let out a dry humourless bark of laughter. But there was nothing funny about the situation.

"He is the director of one of the largest and most powerful agencies in the world. He will never stop having influence on my life."

Tony just stood there trying to take all of this in.

"How long has this been going on for?" Tony asked.

"Years," Ziva answered quickly.

Tony didn't have time to be angry at Ziva for keeping this thing secret from him. He was too busy trying to think of ways out for Ziva. There must have been some way for Ziva to stop having to deal with Eli. There must be some kind of hoop that she could jump through to get Eli off her back for good.

"Are you an American citizen?" Tony asked. He was suddenly aware of how much he didn't know about Ziva. They had chemistry, and they had fire. But other than that, they lacked the time that a conventional couple had before they got together to just learn about each other. And now he was going to have to take a crash course in Ziva in order to help her.

"Yes. "

The short answer didn't deter Tony in the slightest. But he should have taken that answer as a warning. He could have stopped things then and there. Before they got out of hand, like they did next.

"Maybe we could change your home number.

"Never thought of that one," Ziva said sarcastically, and Tony looked up for the first time. He had been too preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice that Ziva had tried to put some distance between the two, but subconsciously Tony had refused to let her go. Now, he allowed her out of his arms, and she spoke for the first time out of her own accord.

"Tony, will you stop."

There was a silence before she could continue.

"Thank you for trying to help, really, I appreciate it. But I do not need you, or anyone else to deal with my father."
"But what about what's mine is yours and all that stuff," Tony retaliated.

"We are not married, neither are we anywhere near that!"Ziva replied quickly and harshly, her voice raised. And then she realised what she had said.

"So this isn't anything to you then," Tony said. In hindsight, he knew that he should have bitten back those words. He should have known that Ziva would be too used to looking after herself that it would take a little time before she trusted him enough to look after her too. But in the heat of the moments, things were said that he would regret later. But his anger clouded his judgement, and spoke for him in the moment.

"Tony…"

But Ziva did not have time to finish her sentence, before Tony abruptly let go off her and left the room.

Tony almost banged his head on the steering wheel in frustration. Why did he have to go and be so stupid like that? First Ziva begins to open up to him, starts to trust him. Then the moment she starts hesitating instead of taking it slow he has a go at her and ups and leaves. He couldn't hate himself any more than he did in that moment.

The light turned green ahead, and Tony put his foot down to bring the car to life. As he drove his thoughts raced ahead of him. What if Ziva didn't let him explain when he got back? What if she told him to get out of her life, and never return? It was the fear of this rejection that made him take the right that led him back around the block, not the left that meant he would do back to Ziva's. He wanted to put off the rejection, even if it was just by a few moments.

One hour.

One hours since Tony had left, one hour that Ziva had spent sitting on her living room sofa, watching the clock move slowly forward. She needed Tony to come back. She needed him to tell her that she hadn't blown it, that he wasn't going to give up on her like so many before him had. She needed to tell him that she loved him.

Ziva wasn't a "needy" person in general. She was independent. She was smart. She could get places in life. But there was something inside her that no matter how much she resisted, she still needed something. That need had never been filled, not with anything or anyone. Until Tony came along. It was when he waltzed into her life that she realised that this was what she needed, who she needed. And who she needed to need her back.

The front door clattered for the second time that evening, and Ziva internally prayed that it was Tony, and not Tali returning from her night out with her friends. Apparently the gods had decided that they were done torturing her for the day, and that some good luck should be hers. The solid footsteps on the thick carpet indicated that it was Tony who stepped through the door. The steps seemed heavier than usual, as if the weight of his actions were bearing down on him.

He stood in the doorway, hesitating on whether to enter or not. Ziva could see the guilt and sadness in his eyes, as well as the love and care that seemed to always shine in those green orbs. All she could do was imagine what she looked like to him.

She looked far too small. That was the first thing that Tony saw when he saw Ziva curled up on the couch like that. There was nothing more heartbreaking for him than to see Ziva, his crazy ninja Ziva look small. Her eyes were large and sad, glittering with hurt and sadness. But Tony could tell somehow that she wasn't angry at him. There was none of that residing in her eyes. Yet despite this, the next words that came out of her mouth surprised him. Not because they were hurtful or angry or bitter. But for an entirely different reason.

"Marry me, Tony."

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKK! CLIFFY! :D