A guest told me this story was starting to sound like Worthy and I quote "that would be annoying". First of all, the author of Worthy is my proofreader. She has literally read every single chapter before I've even thought about publishing it. I think if my story was too much like hers, she would have said something. Second, her story is longer, for one, and mine is not going the same direction as hers. I know where it's going, and it's not down the same road hers is. We good? Okay, thanks.

Enjoy the chapter. I'm sorry updates are taking so long. I'm on my last semester of my senior year of high school, and life is insane. I love you guys, though. You're the best. 3

Even though he put off meeting another couple for a week, eventually Tony had to surrender and meet with the second couple they picked from their list: The Slatons. When the couple first walked into the apartment, he had to admit he liked the look of them. Though he couldn't quite put his finger on it, there was something about them that made him feel comfortable. They were dressed nice, but they weren't overdressed by any means. They both had small, polite smiles on their faces and they looked just a bit younger than they actually were. They didn't have the same arrogant feeling he'd gotten from the first couple, and they seemed very genuine when they shook his hand and told their names: Daniel and Theresa.

When they were finally all seated at Ziva's table, the two began describing their jobs. Tony listened with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, and after a moment, he looked over at Ziva, who was supporting her chin with her hand, but listening intently from what he could tell. Her eyes had this strange glint to them that he couldn't figure out, but he wasn't really looking to try. He turned back to Mr. Slaton, who was explaining a particular child in one of his classes whom had made an impact on him.

"That's why I do what I do, after all. If I can make a difference in a child's life, then it makes all the difficult times worth it." Mr. Slaton smiled at the end of his statement, and Mrs. Slaton took that moment to speak up.

"It really is the most wonderful feeling."

Tony looked back over at Ziva, and there was a small moment of nonverbal communication before she nodded slightly and he turned back to the couple in front of him. "So," he began, "You already said you wouldn't mind... letting me see her once she's been adopted."

"I think that would be perfectly fine. I've heard that many adoptive kids set out to find their real parents at some point anyway. Perhaps if she knows you already, it would not be as much of a problem. I would hate for her to feel as if she needed to go out of her way to look for someone who already wants to see her," Mrs. Slaton said.

"Either one of you could see her, I think. Just let us know ahead of time when you'd like to do so, and we can arrange everything in a civil manner," Mr. Slaton added with a gesture of his hand.

"I... I would be fine with just pictures," Ziva replied, smiling despite the fact that she had started rubbing her arm nervously under the table.

"That's alright, too." The couple nodded, smiling as if they could possibly understand the motives behind Ziva's request. Tony looked over at her out of the corner of his eye, wishing with everything inside him that he could just say a word and make her change her mind and usher the couple out politely, saying that they would be in touch, when they actually wouldn't.

Thirty-five minutes later, with the majority of the concerns covered, they all stood. Though Tony thought they were about to leave, Mrs. Slaton pulled Ziva to the side and started talking with her, leaving Tony and Mr. Slaton alone in the living room.

"You guys seem really nice," Tony offered, putting his hands into his pockets and fighting to keep his eyes on Mr. Slaton's face and not on something else in the room, because anything else would have been much easier to focus on. He hated that he needed to be polite to these people, no matter how much nicer they seemed than the last couple.

"Thank you," Mr. Slaton responded, and he hesitated before continuing. "I get the feeling that you aren't completely on board with this decision, though."

Tony swallowed, his eyes finding a painting on the wall to stare at, giving up his fight to look at the man standing in front of him. He considered lying, but he honestly didn't care enough to do that. "Well, if we're being honest here, I'm not. I... I want to keep her. I want to keep her pretty bad, actually. Ziva doesn't, though. And my kid deserves two parents, not just one. I figured... Well, I want whoever gets her to take care of her, you know? I want the assurance that she's going to be okay with whoever she goes home with when she's born. So here I am."

"I see." A few seconds of awkward silence passed before Mrs. Slaton and Ziva came back from where they'd been talking. Ziva seemed a bit uncomfortable, and yet she managed to smile at the couple as they were leaving. When the door had closed, she sat down on her couch, leaning her head back and sighing.

"I liked them." She spoke quietly, her eyes fixed on him.

"They were... nice," Tony offered lamely, feeding her a statement similar to the one he'd just given Mr. Slaton. He shrugged, and looked away from her. The happiness he saw on her face was too much for him. He didn't want to see the satisfied expression she was portraying, glad that she'd found a couple she wouldn't mind letting take her baby. Their baby.

"You did not like them?" An edge crept into her voice, and he backtracked a little, not wanting to make her angry at him. Not tonight.

"I didn't say that."

"Well, did you?" The edge jumped up a level and a hint of a demand became apparent as well. Sighing, he rubbed his tired eyes.

"They were fine, Ziva. Just fine. Okay?" He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, opening his eyes to see her watching him carefully.

"Are... What is wrong?" she asked, sitting up almost as straight as she could considering the circumstances.

"Nothing," he lied, grabbing his coat and putting it on. By the time he had done so, Ziva was standing and walking toward him, her eyes narrowed.

"You are lying."

He offered up a mental stream of profanities as she leveled her eyes at him, almost as if she were willing him to snap at her without even realizing it. "You're right, Ziva. I am lying, but for the love of all that is good in the world, I am just trying to make you happy. Okay? I could still be as difficult as a mule if I wanted to be, but I'm here, and I'm just trying to do the best I can, all things considered."

"What does that mean?" Her voice raised an octave and her leveled eyes turned into a glare.

"I don't want to do this!" he finally yelled, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I don't. I am only doing this because the only other choices I have are to raise my daughter by myself without her mother or to sign my rights away without even knowing who the hell is going to wind up with her. But I don't want to do this. There are a million painful things that I would rather do than to give her away. Every single time I meet a set of parents-"

"We've only met two," she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It doesn't matter, Ziva!" he snapped, angry tears now threatening to spill. "Because meeting them makes me sick. I can't stand looking into their eyes, trying to be all nice and polite when they might wind up taking my little girl away from me."

She squeezed her eyes shut, running a hand through her hair. When she opened them, there was something else hiding behind her still angry facade. For a split second, her eyes clouded and she took a shaky breath. Then, she blinked hard once, and it was gone. Feeling defeated, he zipped up his jacket and opened her door to leave.

"Tony." Her voice stopped him, and he turned back to her, swallowing.

"What?" He nearly spat. She went to speak, but then she winced, and her hand flew up to a spot on the side of her stomach. His heart jumped, his anger dissipated, and he was by her side before he could register moving. "What is it?" His voice was no longer sharp.

She winced slightly again, and then, strangely enough to him, she bit her lip, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "Nothing, Tony. It's fine. She just... she kicks some uncomfortable places sometimes."

Tony felt his heart dropping into his stomach and his throat closed up. He took a step back, trying to keep his breathing steady. He swallowed, taking a shaky breath before asking, "She kicks?"

Ziva looked at him for a long moment, as if deciding whether or not this was something she could share with him. Then, she nodded. "Yes, she kicks. They aren't too strong most of the time, but every once in a while she has a really good one."

He nodded, his throat feeling so tight he couldn't even swallow. His eyes were burning and no matter how much he blinked, the sensation wouldn't go away. "Oh."

Ziva still had her hand on the spot where, apparently, the baby had kicked. She was looking at him with the strangest expression that he couldn't even begin to decipher, but then, suddenly, he saw the guard she'd been holding up for so long drop just a little to give a better look at the emotion he'd seen glimpses of earlier.

"Do... do you want to feel her?" The question came out a little breathy.

His breath hitched slightly and his heart was pounding so hard it was beginning to become painful. "Yes," was his simple reply. She gestured to him, lifting her hand and allowing him to put his where it had been.

"Just wait a second," she told him, her voice soft.

It did take a moment, but after a few seconds, he felt it. It wasn't much, just the slightest little nudge underneath his hand, but that was all it took for one tear to slide down his cheek. He kept his hand there as his little girl kicked again, and then he somehow got his voice past his throat enough to attempt speaking. "How... how can you feel this... every single day and... and still want to let her go? This... this is the most amazing thing I've ever... and I just... I can't see how you can..." He stopped, more tears dangerously close to falling.

She took a moment, sighing. "Because... because I know..." she hesitated, taking a calming breath before continuing. "This is what's best for her. She needs two parents that are together, and not as dysfunctional as we are. She needs two people who are going to be there to tuck her in, and not out late on more than one night a week working. Feeling her kick me... I cannot explain to you how that feels, Tony. All I can tell you is that... this is not easy. It is very difficult, but it is what she needs."

"What if we could do it, though?" he asked, feeling the baby kick, almost as if she were cheering him on. "I think we could. Maybe... you're just looking at it from the wrong angle."

"Tony, I... This is what is best. She needs to have two parents who are going to love her and love each other and..." Her voice hitched and she wasn't looking at him anymore, but he barely noticed. Her words were already slicing through him and tearing him apart. "And that... is not us. We simply made..."

"Yeah," he interrupted quickly. "I get it, Ziva. I get it."

He let his hand slip from her stomach, from his daughter, and took a step back. Ziva had tears in her eyes, but the weight of that fact was lost on him. Knowing that she didn't love him as much as he loved her was making his heart break even further, and knowing that was one of things assisting her decision to put their baby up for adoption made it hurt even worse. He was fairly certain that now, there wasn't anything left of his heart to break. He felt himself nodding, but he honestly wasn't entirely sure of any of his actions at the moment, other than the fact that he was headed toward the door to leave.

Her voice stopped him again. "Tony..."

He turned back once more, not even sure what emotions could be portrayed on his face. She had cleared her own emotions, however, and her eyes were dry. "Yeah?"

"So... what did you think of them? I need to know." She was resigned now, her voice quiet. The guard had been put back up on everything except for how exhausted she was. Now, she sounded just as tired as he felt.

"Yeah, they're great." He shook his head, tears threatening again. "And I don't want to meet any more sets of parents. I'm done."

He went to leave, but stopped again. He had one more thing he needed to say. "And you know what, Ziva? Not everybody thinks that what happened between us was a mistake that we need to try moving on from. Some people have never thought of it that way."

He slammed the door a little too hard behind him, tears finally falling as he walked down the hall. He passed a woman on the way to the elevator that looked at him funny, but he didn't care. He felt like that was his last attempt to pull her out of whatever it was that made her want to give up the baby, but it hadn't worked, because she didn't love him and that was why she thought the baby would be better with someone else. When he got into the elevator, he leaned his head back against the cool metal, wanting nothing more than to go drink himself to the edges of oblivion in the comforts of his empty apartment.

And so, that's exactly what he did.