The first night after Ziva and Annabelle were cleared to go home, they all went back to Ziva's apartment, and Tony carried her inside in her small pink carrier. Thankfully, once the news of their sudden change in plans had gotten around, Abby and McGee had spent the next two days trying to get things situated enough in Ziva's apartment for a baby. With Tony's credit card, they'd bought essentials- a crib, diapers, blankets, and such- and set everything up in the spare room at Ziva's place, with Tony coming by once to check progress.
"Remind me to thank Abby and McGee for being amazing," Tony said quietly when he walked into the newly arranged nursery. Apparently, the two had found pink wall paper flowers somewhere, because they were covering the walls. Once they'd gotten Annabelle out of her carrier, Tony held her, still not used to the way she felt in his arms. It was something so simple that he knew he'd never take for granted. Annabelle whined a little, her arm coming up over her scrunched up face.
"Tony, I have to feed her," Ziva said after a moment, gesturing for him to hand Annabelle over. She gave him a reason to leave the room, asking if he would see what food she had for them. He nodded, getting the picture and heading toward the kitchen.
Ziva's mood had deflated slightly since Annabelle was born, but she still seemed in good enough spirits. Tony had decided that she was just tired. He rummaged through her kitchen, finding a frozen pizza and putting it in the oven to cook. A minute later, Ziva came out, lacking a baby in her arms, so he figured that she had gotten Annabelle to sleep.
Ziva collapsed on the couch in the living room, her eyes closed, and the apartment fell silent. It gave him time to think about what they were supposed to do now. Deciding to keep the baby wasn't exactly the easier option, and they had a lot they needed to work through, but with Ziva as exhausted as she was, Tony doubted they would figure any of it out soon. Taking a glance at the timer he'd set for the pizza and seeing he had time, he walked back to the nursery, going to stand in front of the crib and stare down at Annabelle. She was sleeping soundly. Tony wanted to reach out and touch her, let himself hold her little hand in his, but he knew that if he woke her up, Ziva would be pissed. So he just admired her from where he stood, an affectionate smile grazing his lips.
After a minute, he walked back into the kitchen and pulled the pizza out of the oven. When he walked into the living room to get Ziva, he noticed that she had fallen asleep. He battled for a moment between letting her sleep and getting her up to eat and then decided to do the former. He grabbed three slices of pizza for himself, standing at the counter and eating them in silence.
He wasn't sure how they were going to work this out. He wondered if Ziva would let him crash on her couch until they figured it out, because he wasn't supposed to go home, was he? He certainly didn't want to. He had a few sets of clothes with him to change into. He could stay for a few days until they talked about it. He wished that they were just together. It would make things a hell of a lot easier on both of them.
About an hour later, Annabelle's soft cries came from the nursery, and Ziva sat straight up on the couch and disappeared down the hall before Tony could even move. He followed her, entering the room to see that Ziva was holding Annabelle and rocking her in her arms. She saw Tony walk in and gave him a tired smile. "Here, let me get her settled back down. You go warm up the pizza on the counter and eat."
Ziva hesitated, but then handed Annabelle to him and walked out. Tony whispered to her, swaying the baby in his arms like Ziva had been doing. Annabelle's eyelids got heavier, and she whimpered a little. Soon after, her eyes were once again closed in sleep, but even then, Tony didn't put her down. He sat down in the rocking chair in the corner instead. He wasn't sure he'd ever get accustomed to seeing her, holding her. He'd thought that he would rarely get the opportunity, and he wanted to take every chance he got. He didn't think he'd ever stop admiring her, either.
He put his pinky finger beside Annabelle's hand, gently coaxing it into her grasp. He heard Ziva walk back in the room, and he looked up at her. "Hey," he whispered, and Ziva smiled.
"You got her back to sleep fast," Ziva commented, leaning against the door frame.
He nodded, standing and settling Annabelle back into her crib before walking over to where Ziva stood. "So, I was thinking that until you get back rested up, I could stay here. You know, crash on the couch or whatever, in case you need any help." It was the only excuse he had for now other than the fact that he didn't want to be five miles from his daughter, and luckily, Ziva either had no problems with the idea or was too tired to argue, because she nodded.
"That's fine. You can use the couch in the living room." She yawned, putting her hand over her mouth.
"You should get some sleep," he told her gently, putting a hand on her elbow. She nodded silently, giving him a grateful half smile before heading toward her bedroom.
Tony changed into the pair of pajama pants he'd brought with him and found a blanket in the hallway closet, settling onto the couch for the night. It wasn't the worst couch he'd ever slept on. His was much more uncomfortable. He wondered how long he could get away with staying there until it caused a problem. He hoped it wouldn't, but he didn't get those hopes too high. He knew that wouldn't work out well for him.
The first week was the hardest.
Ziva had heard that, of course, but until she actually experienced it herself, she didn't fully comprehend it.
The only thing that actually got her through that first week was the fact that Tony had taken up residence on her couch and got up just as many times as she did throughout the night. It was nice to know that she wasn't alone, but she wasn't sure what to do about him sleeping on her couch.
He didn't seem to mind doing so, and he certainly didn't seem to be planning on stopping. In all honesty, Ziva didn't want him to stop. She liked having him around, because he actually was a major help. For some reason, if Annabelle wasn't hungry, Tony got her calmed down much quicker. However, if she was and she needed to be fed, Ziva usually worked better, even after they started feeding her with a bottle.
The first two days, she wondered if she'd made the right choice. She stayed awake almost the whole first night, contemplating her decision and trying to figure out if she'd done the right thing. It wasn't until she woke one night to find Tony in the nursery, singing softly to a sleeping Annabelle, that she knew she had chosen correctly. She had stood at the door for nearly five minutes, just watching the picture in front of her. It brought tears to her eyes, how much Tony loved his daughter. It was the most reassuring sight she could have ever seen.
It made her love him that much more, too.
Ever since they'd brought Annabelle home, she'd wondered how to go about talking to him, because yes, one of the things she'd realized after she'd let herself stop being stubborn was that their night together was most definitely not a mistake. Looking at their daughter was all she needed to know that.
" 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." When Tony had first told her that on his way out the door of her apartment a few months back, she'd shrugged it off, too stubborn and set in her ways to listen to what he was saying. Things had changed, though, and the statement was stuck in her mind, playing over and over.
Even without Annabelle, what had happened between them wasn't a mistake. Not really. The timing might have been bad, but it was inevitable, wasn't it? It was bad enough that she'd gone nine months fighting him on keeping their baby when afterwards she felt stupid for ever thinking of giving her away, but she'd also shut him down from day one, never giving them the chance to figure out what the hell all of this was supposed to mean.
That wasn't fair to him.
By the end of that first week, she'd decided that she did need to talk to him, because there were things that were still left up in the air, conversations that had been forgotten in the rush of deciding to keep Annabelle. It'd only been a week, though, Ziva thought to herself while sitting on the couch, trying to get a few minutes of relaxation while the baby was asleep. They still could both use some time to get used to the routine they'd fallen into now before she tried to add something else into the equation.
A knock came at the door, and she stood to open it, letting Tony in. "How was work?" she asked conversationally as he came in the door with a pizza.
"Fine. Everyone misses you." He grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile in return.
"I have a while before I will go back to work," she told him, not even able to comprehend going back to work at the moment.
"I know." He shrugged. "How's Annabelle? She asleep?" He sat the pizza box on her table and opened it with a grin in her direction. Ziva nodded, and Tony seemed to see that her thoughts were preoccupied. "Something on your mind?"
She met his eyes briefly, and his brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes, but I am... I do not want to talk about it right now."
Tony tilted his head curiously, but thankfully, he dropped the subject, handing Ziva a piece of pizza and then getting some for himself. Ziva just watched him, trying to figure out how she was supposed to just bring up the fact that she had been lying to herself all along and was completely in love with him.
It certainly wasn't something to be brought up over pizza.
"Shh," Ziva hummed to Annabelle, gently rocking her in her arms before finally placing her in her crib. She sighed with relief, her body tired. Walking into her living room, she saw Tony was already lying down on the couch, looking intently at the roof.
She watched him for a moment before making her presence known. "If you stare at my roof any harder, you are going to put a hole in it."
His eyes found hers for the briefest moment, a smile lighting up his features. He sat up, looking at her expectantly. "Are you okay today? You're acting a little strange."
She wanted to laugh at the question, but resisted. "I am fine," she told him, and it was true. She was fine. A little too lost in her own thoughts, but fine otherwise.
"Okay. If you're sure." He was looking at her strangely, not buying her story.
She briefly considered sitting down beside him, but with her thoughts not quite sorted out yet, she knew that would turn into a train wreck. So, instead, she smiled and went to bed, knowing that she only had a few hours before Annabelle would probably wake up, and she definitely needed the rest.
It was another two and a half weeks later when he finally pulled her to the side while Annabelle was sleeping, begging to know what was wrong. "I know you're not fine, Ziva," he said, his eyes searching hers for answers. "I'm not sure what's wrong, but something is. You don't seem happy." She watched his expression and knew that he'd thrown ideas of them actually being together to the far corners of his mind, whether because it wasn't important at the moment or because he didn't think it was a possibility, she wasn't sure.
She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "You remember how you told me that... that what happened... was not a mistake?"
She didn't look at him, but she could imagine his eyebrows coming together. "Yeah."
"You were right. And... I have been... I have thought about it and even if it were not for that... that beautiful child down the hall... it still was not a mistake. I was... denying the truth to myself because I was... scared of what that would mean."
She looked up at him then, and his eyes were soft. "You don't have to be scared," he said gently.
"I know, but... that does not mean I am not." She looked down again, but then she felt his hand take her own, and she looked back up.
"We can get past that." He was leaving the door open, allowing room for her to pull away if she wanted to. She swallowed, trying to figure out how her life had changed so drastically in such a short amount of time. But in all honesty, she was tired of being scared.
So, she closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his. His hand found the back of her neck and held her there for only a moment, and then she was pulling away. "Yes," she told him with assurance, smiling. "We can get past that."