Title: I'm Telling You Why

Chapter: 3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.

Note: Thanks for all the reviews! This started out as a one-shot and became more because of the wonderful feedback I received from everyone. I hope you enjoy this last chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

After the credits rolled and the team had dispersed for the evening, Tony and his father headed back to the apartment. They sat in companionable silence for most of the ride, only speaking to mention the snow (it makes the city look so calm) and the movie (we watch it every year, it's become a tradition). As he pulled into the parking lot and turned off the ignition, Tony sat for a second and drummed his fingertips against the steering wheel, thinking.

"You coming, Junior?" his father asked after shutting the passenger door and taking a few steps up the walk.

Tony sighed and opened his own door, "yeah," he replied. He leaned back to grab his workbag and exited the vehicle. As they ascended the stairs to his apartment, he mulled over his conversation with McGee from earlier. Was he ready to tell his father the truth about the apartment, Ziva, everything? He doubted it. As he unlocked the door and flipped on the lights, he chided himself for being such a coward. Sure, he could tell his dad he loved him and forgive him for the indiscretion with his neighbor. He could forgive him for "misplacing" the family ring for twenty-plus years and trying to lecture Tony about his commitment issues. Truthfully, he had been successfully forgiving his father since he was eight-years-old. Forgiveness wasn't the issue; allowing his father into his life was.

"Did you want me to whip us up something to eat?" His dad was waiting for a response.

"I don't live here." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had a chance to think. Immediately, he wished them back in.

His father raised his eyebrows and tipped his head to one side. "You're going to have to give me a little more to go on, Junior."

Tony sighed and leaned against the wall. They hadn't even taken their coats off. He didn't have a drink in his hand. This is one of those conversations that requires an alcoholic beverage, by law, he thought to himself. "I don't…" he stopped talking and looked up at the ceiling for a brief second, wondering if he could say the words out loud. He spent so much of the time holding this secret close to his heart. Even when he and McGee had talked about it, he hadn't really admitted to anything. McGee already knew. There was no need to state the obvious.

"Son?" His father stepped closer and set his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Whatever it is… you can tell me."

Tony inhaled. "I don't live here… really." He massaged his forehead with one hand and cleared his throat. "I live with Ziva. We're… Ziva and I are…" he was gesturing with his hands, willing his father to understand. The man stood there, eyeing him without a word. Tony realized his dad was going to make him say the words out loud. "I love her," he said quietly.

His father smiled and clapped his shoulders. "Wonderful!"

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Of course, Junior. She's a wonderful woman… reminds me of your mother."

"Dad, mom wasn't Jewish."

His dad wasn't listening. Anthony DiNozzo Sr. was halfway through the foyer with his hand resting on the doorknob before Tony had the words "where are you going?" out of his mouth.

"To your apartment, of course."

Tony flinched. He had anticipated coming clean and spending the rest of the evening sipping scotch and watching Christmas movies on his tiny television. "Not sure that's such a good idea," he said as he followed his father out of the apartment.

"Don't be ridiculous, son. I came here to spend Christmas with you, and it would be a wasted trip if I didn't get to see where you really lived."

Ziva got the text message as she was drinking wine and soaking in the bathtub.

I told him. We're on our way home.

She smiled to herself as she let the water out of the tub and threw on her bathrobe. Talking to Tony's father would be a cinch compared with her own. She hadn't spoken to Eli David in… how long had it been? She counted back the months as she pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Too long, she decided. The longest she had ever gone without talking to a member of her immediate family. As she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, she heard the lock on the front door click. Here it goes.

"Ziva?" came Tony's voice.

Ziva padded out of the bedroom as the two men entered. Tony, dropped his keys into the bowl by the door and shrugged out of his coat. His father breezed past him, crossing the distance between them in a few steps and embracing her, squeezing her body like a sponge.

"Oomph," she managed. "Welcome."

He released her and took a step back, holding her gaze. "So, I hear my son finally wised up?" he chuckled, "how did he snag such a gorgeous woman?

Ziva snickered.

"Enough, dad," Tony said from the foyer. "Let me have your coat. I'll drop your bag in the guest room."

Anthony DiNozzo Sr. handed his son his winter coat without glancing back. "How long have you two been…?"

From the adjacent room, Ziva heard Tony moan, "don't even think about finishing that sentence, dad, I swear to…"

"Oh, relax Junior," the elder DiNozzo shushed him. "Dating. I was going to ask how long you've been dating."

"Sure you were." Tony moved into the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of red wine that was sitting on the counter. "You don't have to answer any of his questions, Ziva." He poured three glasses and carried them over.

"No, no," Ziva said, smiling at Tony's father, "it is quite alright. Three years," she answered honestly.

"And are your intentions honorable?"

Ziva snorted and took a sip of the wine Tony handed her. Leaning forward, she grinned mischievously, "of course not."

Tony's dad chuckled as his son took a long gulp of his drink. "That's what I like to hear!"

Later that evening, after Tony's father had turned in for the night, Ziva brushed her teeth, thinking. It felt nice to have a family member know the truth; made it feel more real, somehow. She rinsed her face and shut the light off, entering her dimly lit bedroom. It was a relief to have Tony home. His absence had left a cold, empty spot in the apartment. Now, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the dark television screen. She climbed into his lap and kissed his lips softly.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey back."

"Missed you."

She tucked her hair behind one ear and smiled, "I can tell." She pulled him closer.

He laughed and rolled his eyes. "It's been a week…"

She shook her head, amused. "Three days, Tony."

"Really? Feels longer." He wrapped his arms around her.

She kissed him again, running her hands through his hair, feeling electricity pulse up her spine. He grabbed a fistful of her t-shirt and deepened the kiss, closing the distance between their bodies. They became more frantic, Ziva's pulse quickened, her body responding to him. He knotted his fingers through her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her neck and laying light kisses below her ear. She yanked off his t-shirt and tossed it unceremoniously onto the floor.

Ziva was trailing her lips along Tony's collarbone when she heard a light knock, and the door opened.

"Oh!" Anthony DiNozzo Sr. said, an air of surprise in his voice.

"Dad!" Tony yelped, "what the hell?" He grimaced and rubbed his forehead with his hand, Ziva still firmly placed in his lap. After a beat of uncomfortable silence, he cleared his throat. "Did'ga need something?" he asked, with tangible sarcasm.

"Just wanted to tell you my flight leaves at 09:00 tomorrow morning, Junior." He offered a sly smile. "Carry on."

The door shut, leaving Tony and Ziva alone once again.

"And that's why we don't have family over."

Ziva slid off his lap and crawled across the bed, chuckling. "He is harmless, Tony."

"As a mountain lion," he replied. "You know he did that on purpose."

"You are being ridiculous," she said, switching off the bedside table lamp, enveloping them in darkness. She felt the bed move beside her, felt Tony's arm slide under her head, pulling her body toward his.

They lay there for a few minutes, legs entwined under the covers. The apartment was still, moonlight streamed through the crack in the curtains.

"Tony?"

"Huh?"

"We have to tell him."

There was a moment of silence before he responded. He knew whom she was referring to. Gibbs. "I know," he said softly.