Hi guys, sorry for the lack of updates at the moment but my mums in hospital xxx

Chapter Eleven: Your Tateleh, My Mia Stella

How long had he actually been sleeping for?

The only reason he even knew he'd slept was because his eyes protested as they prised themselves open. There was barely any light seeping into the bedroom even though he couldn't remember closing the drapes before he went to sleep. He couldn't actually remember much. The door was open, showing an equal lack of light in the hall; he usually closed it behind him as a force of habit, something he'd done as a child and teenager and continued to do as a grown man. He was lying beneath the blanket rather than above as he had done one of the previous nights, so he'd clearly put thought into getting into bed before he'd climbed under the duvet. He was still wearing sweat pants and his t-shirt from the night before, though, so maybe it wasn't a lot of thought he'd had to give to the situation.

There was no blaring alarm clock that had woken him that morning, unlike yesterday. Yesterday when Gibbs had wanted him in early to catch up on his overflowing out tray of paperwork. Yesterday when they'd visited the hospice for one final exchange with the woman inside it...yesterday when Alicia had died. With no alarm clock to drag him kicking and screaming from sleep he wondered what had woke him so effectively. In the distance, he could hear sound; a murmured phone conversation that he couldn't make out the words of even though it appeared to be the only sound in his apartment. He knew that voice; that husky, unique tone.

Ziva must have stayed last night, he realised. He remembered that now; he remembered her taking him into the living room, away from the bedroom where Penny slept so that he could release the anguish that had been eating away at him. Of course, he'd argued against her insistence that he release his emotions and allow himself to cry (one, because he didn't want Penny to hear or see him crying, and two, because he was a man and his father had drummed it into him after his own mother's death that real men didn't cry), but she'd managed to coax him into shedding tears right before her. There'd been eye contact as well. Eye contact that gave him more reassurance that things would be okay than anything that anyone else had done so far. Eye contact that had made a wad of emotion lock in his chest, and he knew that it wasn't the emotion she was trying to get him to embrace rather than lock away. Eye contact that had him fighting every part of his consciousness to focus on the little girl asleep in his bed rather than the beautifully mysterious woman before him; this woman who had, over the past few days, transformed from the dangerous Mossad officer who could leave him vomiting just from a drive to the other side of the Navy yard, fearing for his life just because she was holding an office stapler. Now, she was the closest thing he had to a guiding light. She was coming back to his apartment just because she was concerned about him, because she wanted to help him...because he was hurting and she wanted to be the person who could take that away from him, and he had seen that all in her eyes. But at the end of the day, no matter how comforting it was to look into someones eyes with so much intensity, it was just eye contact and nothing more.

Was this the first time he'd had a woman stay over at his apartment and not had sex with her?

It was certainly the first time he'd woken up alone and not stumbled straight out of bed and into the shower. On nights when he didn't bring a date home, he ended up watching reruns into the early hours of the morning, and falling into bed later earlier hours, which some people would consider ridiculous considering the ungodly hours he had to wake up for work most of the time. Once the alarm snapped him from whatever dream he was having (ten to one it would be one featuring fast cars or scantily clad women, three to one on it featuring both), he would roll out of bed, avoid hitting the carpet with too much force, and wake himself up with a shower. Coffee was for people like Gibbs and McGee, who needed it to get them through the day; Tony preferred his own methods. He preferred his own drive to get him through to the next second.

His own drive, which had disappeared all now, leaving him helpless to the sudden ugliness of uncertainty.

If it were possible, he'd fly a million miles away from the hurt that this situation was causing both him and Penny, this new daughter that he'd barely been given the opportunity to know before he'd had to explain that her mother was gone forever, but he knew that it would never help them escape it. Yesterday and these painful days that followed would always be imprinted in their memories, whether they ended up in the wild rain forests away from all human contact or whether they stayed where they were in the bedroom, in the dark of the pre-sunrise morning and hidden beneath the blankets. Yes, he realised as his eyes flickered again to a gap in the drapes, it's always darkest before the dawn.

However, the darkness now wasn't one he could see being lightened by his own sunrise, whatever that may prove to be. Alicia was gone; her time at life had passed, but he and Penny had to carry on regardless. Penny was a three year old girl, though, and needed guidance first; meaning Tony had to go about his day, pretending that he was okay, to some extent, and act like he didn't feel his way of life had come to a shattering standstill with no means of repair. In all practicality, he'd have to make sure Penny didn't pick up on the fact that he was starting his life all over again, becoming a different man with different priorities.

Going back to work would be difficult; he knew that. Jenny had recommended that he use all of his grievance leave, which he would probably take, but being away from work usually left him feeling useless. Even when he'd been infected with pneumonic plague, he'd returned to work a week early, albeit not entirely in a fit state, just because he was bored. Now, however, things would be different. People wouldn't be looking to him for what to do, but waiting to see what he would do when things collapsed in his own life. They'd be waiting to see him screw up and see what he'd do about that. Gibbs would have expectations of his fatherly skills, which at the moment were severely lacking. Abby would hug him at every available second, probably joining McGee watching him like a cracked glass about to shatter, just with the physical contact that the Probie wouldn't offer. Jenny would be the sympathetic boss, asking if he needed time off, if there was anything she could do...and Ziva...what would Ziva do?

Finally, his eyes fell on the ominous glow of the alarm clock. Yes, it was definitely early. A small corner of the bedroom floor was lightly bathed in the faint light that shone from it, showing the time to be 4.17 in the morning; a time he rarely saw without being awoken by a phone call. A sound reached him, snapping his eyes away from trying to figure out whether his alarm clock was lying to him about the hour of the morning. It was much closer than Ziva's faint tone down the hall, definitely the sound which had woken him. Definitely the sound.

He looked down at the bed beside him. His eyes were met with a mirrored version of his own, dark eyes that bore into him as intensely as Ziva's did, this time seeking comfort rather than answers. Penny, his little girl, his brand new daughter, was staring up at him from where she lay only a few inches away. Her eyes ran with tears she was struggling to keep silent as she clutched furiously at her bear still, something she'd still been doing even in sleep, he'd noticed. Her eyes were unmoving, waiting for him to do something, anything. Unsure of what he could possibly do, he reached out one arm, feeling the muscles in it complain from wanting more rest, and he pulled her closer to him, closing the gap between them as she settled her head on his shoulder.

"It's okay," he whispered into the bedroom, unsure of why he was keeping his voice so low. No one in the apartment was sleeping now.

"I didn't want her to go away, Daddy," Penny whispered back, her voice thick from either sleep or tears, probably both.

"I know, I didn't want her to go away either," he agreed, slowly rubbing her back with his palm, as if assuring her that it was okay to cry as she had done yesterday.

"Then why did she?" she challenged him.

He closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to find the answer to a question he'd been asking himself for many restless hours now. "Because sometimes, when people get sick, they don't always get better," he explained, "and the doctors can't always help us."

"Why not?" she complained, pouting out her lower lip. "They should."

"Sometimes they just don't have any answers," he told her honestly.

"But I need my Mommy," she argued, as if this were grounds enough for Alicia being allowed to live forever and Tony wished that this was true.

"You've got me now," he reminded her, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt when he spoke. "I'm not going anywhere, Penny, I promise."

"Why can't I have a Mommy and a Daddy at the same time?"

How many children had asked themselves that at some point in their lives, he wondered? He sat up in bed, pulling her into his lap so that they were facing one another. "Penny," he told her softly, using his thumb to wipe away some of the tears on her cheek. "Your mother had been ill for a very long time, but she doesn't have to be ill anymore," he told her. "We can be happy about that, can't we? She won't be hurting or sick anymore"

She just nodded wordlessly.

"I know that you're sad now," he continued, noticing as more tears replaced the ones he'd wiped away just seconds before. "We both are, but that's okay. One day soon, we'll realise that we were lucky to have her as a mommy and as a friend, and we'll be happy that we can remember her smiling and not hurting...but we can't feel happy today, it's too soon."

"Where is she?" Penny asked.

"Her body is still with the doctors," he explained.

Her little brow furrowed. "She's still at the hospital?"

He nodded. "Her body is still at the hospital, but her spirit is gone."

She tilted her head to one side. "What's a spirit?"

He screwed up his nose trying to explain it, not noticing how similar they looked. "It's a part of us inside that you can't really see, but it's what makes us special and different to everyone else."

"Where has Mommy's gone?" she asked him.

"Some people think that it goes to heaven and lives forever, but some people think that it just disappears and that sleep for a long, long time," he told her.

"Where do you think it goes?" she asked him, her eyes baring into his once again.

"I think it lives on," he answered without a second thought. "I don't know if it goes to heaven or somewhere else, some other place that I don't know anything about, but it doesn't just disappear. It lives on, even if it's only in the hears of the people we love."

Penny watched him for a moment, and then leaned forward. "That's what I think too," she told him before kissing him on the cheek.

She settled against him again, curling into a ball in his lap and resting her head on his chest. Was she tired? How long had she even been awake for if it was her sniffle that had woken him in the first place? It was barely four-thirty in the morning and her eyes, whilst covered in the sheen of tears, were still bright and curious. She must have been awake for some time before her sniffles had awoken him.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, remembering that the pizza Ziva had called on their behalf yesterday had barely been touched by the youngster. Penny didn't reply, but nodded against him instead, sending her dark hair rubbing against his shoulder, an act which tousled it. "Let's go and see what food we've got," he told her.

Again, she was silent, but made no move to get up from the position she'd found in his lap. So, he raised himself from the bed, awkwardly switching her from sitting sideways against him so that he could hold her with more ease. Eventually, she fell against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his chest, burying her face against his shoulder. He sighed for a moment, feeling her stomach rumbling against his own and dreading the sight of empty kitchen cupboards, before he left the bedroom. Almost immediately, he'd bumped into Ziva, who was leaving the bathroom.

"Goodmorning," she said, giving him a gentle smile.

"Hey," he replied, the smile he attempted to return seeming more of a grimace. "You stayed?"

She nodded. "You asked me to, and I wanted to make sure that you both slept properly," she explained.

"She did," Tony said, nodding his head down towards Penny.

"I know that," Ziva nodded. "You, on the other hand, did not lie still until an hour ago."

That's why he felt he'd had no sleep, clearly. "I thought I was quiet," he murmured.

"You were," she assured him, giving him that look she always did when her Mossad training seemed to give her the one-up when he was trying to fool her.

They went down the hall and into the living room, Tony flicking on light switches as they passed. "Who called you earlier?" he asked casually.

"Adam," she answered, with a soft smile tugging at her lips.

Tony stopped, raising an eyebrow at her. She simply smiled back, and their eyes connected; however this time he knew that this wasn't the same eye contact that had dragged him through the past few days. No, this was contact that reminded him of the painfully obvious factor of Ziva's life which he had been ignoring. Adam. Lieutenant Adam Gellar, to be more precise. A naval recruit officer who had contacted them when one of his old buddies had been murdered whilst on the phone to him. Lieutenant Adam Gellar, Tony thought with an internal frown, who had been dating Ziva for the past eight months.

But that smile on her lips was what kept his frown inside of him. He knew that she'd missed him since he'd visited Iraq for five weeks. Tony didn't even know what it was for, all he knew was that Adam was away on business as this was all Ziva would tell him. The main reason he wouldn't get any more information out of her about him was because she knew he didn't trust Adam. But while this may be true, he knew that she missed him, even though the strong Mossad woman wouldn't ever admit it.

"He will be back in two days," she informed him, that soft yet sickening smile still present.

"Great," he replied, with no enthusiasm.

She shook her head at him, like a mother giving up on arguing with a child. "I know that the two of you do not see eye to eye, Tony, but Adam is a respectable man and he treats me well."

Of course, there wasn't just the fact that Tony didn't like Adam, there was also the clear dislike for him mirrored from Adam himself. There was usually a long staring contest and a handshake that seemed more like an arm wrestle when the came into contact, a battle over Ziva featuring her partner at work and her partner outside of work. "I'm not the one dating him, Ziva, I don't need the convincing."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head and murmering something in Hebrew under her breath. She turned her attention to Penny, stroking her hair as she stepped closer to Tony. "Shalom, Penny," she said, brightening her voice but still speaking quietly.

Penny rolled her head across Tony's shoulder, so that she could see Ziva. "Hi," she whispered quietly.

"How did you sleep?" Ziva asked her.

"For a long time," she told her.

"That is good," Ziva smiled.

"I miss Mommy," she continued.

Ziva stroked her hair again, causing Tony to breathe deeply despite himself. Whilst Ziva stood so close to him, comforting his daughter without a second though, he chided himself for only being able to think of how close she was standing to him, and how that meant he could smell her hair. If he turned his head, their faces would be less than an inch apart, so he kept his eyes trained on the mirror across the room, and resorted to watching them through the glass.

"I know that you do, Tateleh," Ziva sighed, lapsing into a Hebrew pet name for her that she'd once used for her younger sister. "But you have your father and he will care for you."

Penny nodded, and turned her head into Tony's shoulder again, tightening her grip around him. "Tateleh?" he questioned, turning his head now that she had stepped back. His pronunciation on the Hebrew word wasn't brilliant.

"A Hebrew nickname. It means 'little darling'," she translated for him. "Gibbs also called, he said that you are under orders to take your two weeks leave."

"Orders?"

She nodded. "If not you for your own well being, then for the purpose of settling Penny into your apartment."

He looked around him, taking in the stacks of pizza boxes, magazines, and unironed clothes. "I guess firing the maid wasn't a great idea," he grimaced.

"I am sure you are perfectly capable of doing the cleaning yourself, Tony," Ziva told him. "Besides, Penny cannot sleep in your bed forever. Arrangements need to be made and your time off is the perfect opportunity to see to this."

"I know, but.." he broke off, composing himself against the sudden spring of orders and expectations that had been launched at him. "It only happened yesterday, Ziva," he said, his voice dropping low again. "She needs time...I need to take this slowly."

She put her hand on his shoulder for a moment. "I believe this is the purpose of ordering you to take the full time off. "

He nodded, realising that she was right. "I still have to go into the office this morning," he realised. "I've got half of Penny's stuff in my desk from yesterday and she'll need it."

"I can bring it to you, it is no trouble," Ziva offered.

He shook his head, declining her offer. "I could do with the fresh air."

"Tony..."

"I solemnly swear I will do no work," he said.

She watched him for a moment, and he knew she was trying to figure out of he was lying, but she seemed satisfied with his plege. "I cannot refuse you that," she settled.

She went to walk into the kitchen, and he waited until she was in the doorway before he called her back. In all honesty, he didn't trust himself to tell her this while she was standing so close to him, especially since Adam's impending return was now clouding his mind. "Ziva, listen...about last night..." he said.

She turned to him. "Tony, that is something you say to the women you sleep with in the mornings, yes?" she corrected.

"No, seriously," he told her. "Last night."

"What about it?" she asked him.

"Thank you..." he croaked out. "For everything."

"It is nothing," she smiled.

"It's something. More than something. We'd probably still be on the couch if it wasn't for you," he told her. He walked towards her. "Me and mia stella," he told her.

"Mia stella?" she frowned. "My Italian is not that fluent."

"It means 'my star'," Tony told her. "I hope you two both like toast, because that's pretty much all that's in my kitchen."