"Why d'you keep lookin' at your phone?" Angelina asks blearily.

Tony puts the phone back on her nightstand- still no messages- and readjusts himself on the edge of the tiny bed. "Just checking on something."

Leaning into his already numb arm, she grunts, seeming to lose interest. He hums quietly to her, but his mind is elsewhere. Is Ziva expecting a text from him? Maybe he should grow a pair and initiate the conversation. Then again, what would he say? Sorry for my impulsiveness, but I thought we'd kinda agreed that we wanted to give this another shot and so I'm not sure why you ran off.

Yeah. No.

He'll just wait.

Angelina soon falls asleep. He slips out from beneath her and tucks the blanket securely around her body, then pockets his cell and leaves. Again and again, he licks his lips, trying to get rid of Ziva's imprint on them, but it never works.

He's in love with her, and he knows by now that he won't be able to make that feeling go away.

There's one more thing he knows: another rejection will break him.

0000000000

It's almost eleven when someone knocks on the front door. Tony approaches it with caution, but, through the peephole, he sees Ziva. And, upon further examination, he finds that she has a pizza box in one hand and a drink carrier containing two coffees in the other.

Toda.

Prego.

Tony opens the door. "You remembered."

She smiles. "How could I forget?"

He stands back to let her in. The scent of the food hits his nose, making the memory of standing with her outside that hotel all the more vivid. How long ago has that been? Fifteen years? Something like that, but he can't be bothered with actual math right now.

Ziva walks to his kitchen table and sets everything down. She grabs two plates, puts a slice of pizza on each, and sits. Tony does the same.

"So," he says, tugging a plate toward him. "This is unexpected."

"Much like you kissing me."

"Touché." He picks off a pepperoni and sticks it in his mouth. "But, you know, I thought we were… working towards that."

Ziva raises an eyebrow. "We were. We are."

Despite feeling immensely relieved, he has to ask. "Why the hell did you run off, then?"

"You startled me, Tony. That's all."

He studies her face, and she looks sincere. Running, he knows, is a reflex for her. That's what she does when she isn't sure how to handle a situation. That's what landed her in New York City for five years.

The difference, now, is that after she took off, she turned back around.

And here she is.

Hesitantly, he leans forward. "So… you wouldn't mind too much if I kissed you again?"

"No." She picks up her coffee and takes a long gulp, swallows so loudly Tony can hear it. "But we have to talk first. We have to… to figure out what we're doing."

"You mean, like, for tomorrow? Or ten years down the road?"

"I am not saying we need to have a strict plan. But before we get into this- before we pull Angelina into this- we must be clear on the direction we are going in."

Tony nods, wondering if he should be honest about what he wants, if it'll scare her off.

But then, mirroring his anxiety with her eyes, she asks, "This is for the long-term, yes?"

"I want it to be, yeah." I wanna marry you, just like I always did.

Ziva toys with her pizza, tears off pieces of crust, but doesn't eat any. "Angelina."

"What about her?"

"How will she be affected if this does not work?"

He thinks of her lying in her bed, stuffed animal clutched to her chest. So innocent. So fragile. Her well-being must come first. Can he protect her from the potential fallout if this deal goes to shit? "We need to agree that if you and I don't work out, things will go back to the way they are now."

And, honestly, he sort of expects the commitment to freak Ziva out, and his stomach fills with dread because crap, now she's gonna change her mind. But then she raises her chin and nods firmly. "Agreed."

0000000000

They decide to proceed with caution and in secret. Even Angelina, for the time being, will not know that anything has changed between her parents. The end goal is heavily implied, mutually understood, but not explicitly stated, and it is for there not to be an end.

Tony is thrilled.

And he's also terrified.

And he worries.

A lot.

Ziva shares many of his concerns. They eat and drink and discuss them, and it becomes apparent that the only way to do this is one day at a time. Nothing is guaranteed. Maybe they'll create the family they should have been in the first place, or maybe they won't. No matter what happens, they are dedicated to Angelina. She will never want for a parent again.

It's a strange experience, to sit here and discuss their pending relationship so thoroughly. Even when they started dating the first time and each of them had so much baggage, there hadn't been nearly as much talking. There was more kissing. More spontaneity. But, he figures, maybe that's just it. That phase has come and gone for them. Now, he's had to be a parent and she's had to grieve and they are so much more mature. It only makes sense that their second start would be different from the first one.

Still, he doesn't like the fact that the way they're talking, they might as well be discussing the terms of a business contract. So when Ziva glances at the clock, gasps, "It's one in the morning!" and scurries out of her chair, he walks over to her and takes her hand, pulsing her fingers in his.

"I missed you so much," he murmurs. "Have I told you that?"

"Yes," she says, and he could swear that her cheeks turn a bit red. Maybe they aren't as far past that honeymoon phase as he thought. "And I missed you too."

"I know," Tony says. With his free hand, he touches the side of her face. Ziva leans into his palm, and then she stands on her toes to kiss him. This time, it's a bit more heated, a little longer, but not too long, because Angelina is in the next room and they're both aware of it.

She draws back too soon, pats his chest. "I will see you at work."

He can't wait.

0000000000

"I have a question."

"What did I say about talking with your mouth full?"

Angelina chews her piece of waffle, swallows, then lifts her fork to spear another one. Tony grabs her hand. "Don't eat any more. Ask your question first."

"Are mommies and daddies supposed to kiss and stuff?"

For a second, he thinks she was watching him and Ziva the other night; then he remembers that as soon as Ziva left, he'd gone to check on her and she was fast asleep. "Sometimes they do," he says nonchalantly. "Sometimes they don't. Why?"

"'Cause on TV they do, but you and mommy don't." She takes another bite and doesn't continue until it is gone. "Is it icky? It looks icky."

Tony rolls his lips. It's been a grand total of three days since he and Ziva decided to give it another shot; it's going to be a while before they're comfortable with cluing Angelina in.

As he's thinking about his response, she adds, "'Cause there's spit on your mouth so if you touched someone else's mouth you'd get their spit and that's gross."

"It is," he says. "Very germy."

"Uh-huh."

Angelina keeps eating. He debates whether he should take advantage of her silence or just leave this topic alone. As he decides to plug his big mouth with a piece of toast, she asks, "Daddy?"

"Yeah."

She dabs at the corner of her mouth and studies him for a second. Then: "Never mind."

He is tempted to ask what she'd started to say, but doesn't. It's probably nothing he wants to answer.

There are six more chapters. I finished writing the last one today. : ) So excited for you guys to read the rest!