A/N: Hey guys. This chapter is somewhat longerish (for me, anyway) so I think I deserve a few extra reviews, no? You guys have been fantastic with the views and have given some really great responses. However. A few more reviews would be nice. :)

I'm not a big fan of where this story is going, and you'll see why. I know I'm kind of dragging it out, but that's how relationships are sometimes. They take time. I've been a little stuck lately on how to pull it back together, but I think we're getting there. The beginning of the next chapter is in the works already, but I still need some feedback. Let me know how I can improve, and the kinds of situations and moments you'd liek to see between the characters. If anything seems too OOC, let me know and I'll work on it. Staying true to the characters' personalities is a priority for me, but you know how it can be sometimes.

I think that is a long enough A/N.

Oh, and I own nothing to do with NCIS, though I'd like to. :)

"That's a mighty fine man you've got there," another nurse commented to Ziva as she went about her room performing various tasks.

"Yes," Ziva replied quietly. A small smile produced on her face.

"How long have you been together?"

"Oh, we are not together," Ziva corrected.

"Now, why not?"

"It is complicated," Ziva remembered the conversation she had once had with Tony regarding that very word, and what it meant to Americans.

"Well, men like him don't come around every day," she said. "Now is there anything else you need?"

Him. "No, I am fine,"

"Alright, then. You should be discharged tomorrow morning. Goodnight," the nurse walked out of the room, flipping the lights off. Ziva reached over to the small table beside her and placed the rose she had saved from dinner in her water cup along with the lily from earlier that day. She smiled, and somehow found her way to sleep.

Tony walked out of the hospital to his car. Half expecting another attempt on his life, Tony took a quick look around the parking structure and under his car. Feeling sort of ridiculous, he unlocked his car and bent in, throwing his coat in on the passenger seat.

"How'd it go?" Tony was startled and bumped his head against the roof of his car. He turned around to see Gibbs standing there.

"Geeze Boss," He said, rubbing that back of his head.

"Well?"

"It went great. Thanks for intimidating the hospital staff for us," Tony smiled inwardly at that word. Us. Gibbs nodded slightly, a twinkle in his eye. "I just wish… I wish she would let her guard down for once, ya know?" He continued to be silent.

Gibbs thought back to his life before Shannon and Kelly died. His guard was always down because it never needed to be up. And then in the blink of an eye…

"There's gotta be something more I can do," Tony said, feeling frustrated.

Ziva awoke the next morning, a soft smile on her face as the sun gently rose through her window. She thought back to the night before. Tony had been so wonderful. And she, well, hadn't. She slowly sat up and as she did, she saw the flowers sitting beside her. He deserved better than her. He deserved someone who could open up. Being vulnerable wasn't something she could do. She didn't have a choice. Every moment she spent vulnerable was another moment that her life and the lives of everyone she cared about were at risk.

A cheery nurse entered Ziva's room, interrupting her thoughts. "Well good morning Miss David. How did you sleep?"

Ziva smiled. "Fine, thank you,"

"Well good. The doctor will be here in half-an-hour," She said as she looked over Ziva's papers, then over at her flowers. "Those are lovely,"

"Yes," Ziva said quietly.

"I take it last night went well then?"

How do I answer? "It was very nice," Ziva replied calmly. The truth became more evident to her with every comment from a nurse.

"He seems like a wonderful young man,"

"That is what everyone keeps saying," Her eyes never left the flowers.

"I'll go get you your breakfast," The nurse left the room.

He deserves someone better. I need to let it go. I need to let it go. He is not mine. He can never be. Ziva's heart ached more than the pain she had felt only two days before. I will not cry. I will be strong. I have to be.

An hour later, Tony turned up in Ziva's room, a wide grin on his face. This time, he had a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand and a large cup of tea in his other.

"Good morning," He said. Ziva was sitting in her bed, reading a book.

"Good morning," He handed her the tea. "Thank you, Tony," He set her bouquet on the bedside table.

"Abby will be here soon with some clothes and such for you,"

"Good," She was noticeably colder this morning. It was like a blow to his stomach.

"I'll be driving you home. We can pick up something for lunch if you'd like if you want to eat early, or I can cook something for you. I make a mean fettuccine. DiNozzo family secret recipe," He grinned, covering up his hurt.

"Oh no Tony, that is not necessary,"

"Hey, we can't have you getting killed on the way home. And you're in no shape to drive,"

"I have driven in worse conditions than this," She said defensively.

"It's doctors orders," Tony said, putting his hands up innocently.

"And mine," Gibbs said walking into the room.

"Hey Boss," Tony said. Gibbs ignored him.

"How you feeling?" He looked Ziva straight in the eye, but his care was obvious.

"I am fine, but Tony insists on treating me like a child. I can get my own lunch. I can drive myself home,"

"No, David, you can't," Gibbs stood his ground.

"But Gibbs—"

"Did you not hear me the first time?" Ziva leaned back into her pillows, defeated.

"Fine," She shrugged and looked anywhere but at Tony. Gibbs noticed this too and glanced curiously at Tony, who shook his head slightly.

"Zivaaaaa!" A voice from the hall cried, growing louder every second. Abby. She ran to Ziva, hugging her tightly with one hand, as the other held Ziva's bag. Ziva moaned just a little at the pain. "Oh, sorry. Here's your stuff. So I heard what Tony did! It's so sweet! So are you two like dating or what?"

"Ziva, your mouth runs a million miles a minute," Tony commented, uncomfortable at her last comment. Yesterday, he wouldn't have minded so much. But today, Ziva was off.

"My mind goes even faster," She declared, pigtails swinging, her hands on her hips confidently. Tony couldn't help but smile at the familiar sight. "Now, Ziva needs to change, so shoo!" she pushed to two men out of the room and handed Ziva her bag and left the room, knowing Ziva would appreciate the temporary privacy, which likely wouldn't last much longer.

"Thank you, Abby," Ziva was changed in a few minutes, and Abby came back in and helped her gather her things. McGee had arrived, and the three guys were scouring the hospital for some decent coffee.

"So tell me all about last night. I want to hear everything,"

"It was lovely,"

"Oh please. Ziva. Give me some details!"

"Well, there were strings of lights everywhere. A red and white blanket on the table. He brought me a smoothie and a rose—"

"Awww!" Abby said enthusiastically. "So you're together now, right?"

"No,"

"Why not?"

Ziva sighed. "It is not right, Abby,"

"That's a pathetic excuse,"

"I am not right for him,"

"Did Tony say that?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Give it a chance, Ziva. These things sometimes take time,"

"You do not understand," Ziva said factually.

"But—" It was then that the men entered again.

"Hey Ziva. How you doin'?" McGee asked with a small smile.

"I am fine," She didn't make eye contact with anyone.

"So what do you feel like? Chinese? Burgers? Pizza? Or my famous fettuccine?" Tony was trying to keep up his cheerful façade as they drove. Ziva sat in the passenger seat silently, leaning as far from him as she possibly could.

"Tony—"

"You have to eat, and you're in no shape to cook," Tony pointed out.

"Chinese is fine,"

"Naw, you know what? I'll cook for you,"

"I already—"

"Too late," Tony grinned at her as he turned down the street to her apartment. They walked into her apartment a few minutes later.

"You are so lucky you have an elevator. My apartment complex is a piece of crap," He said as he set her bag down on the couch. He began to inspect her kitchen.

How do I do this? Ziva wondered. Thirty minutes later, lunch was ready.

"Now I know fettuccine isn't exactly lunch food, but you'll just have to deal," He said as he set it on the table. He sat down across from her as she began to serve herself. He stared at her. Ziva could feel him watching her. It took everything within her not to look up and stare back into his blue eyes. "Listen about last night…" Ziva looked down at the floor. She was afraid of what he might hear. David, you are a trained Mossad assassin and you are afraid of what your partner has to say? You kill for a living and you're letting this scare you?

"I'm sorry for prying into your life. It's not my place," Ziva looked up at him for the first time that day, her heart filling with both surprise and pain.

"I am not sure what to say," She replied.

"That's my point. You don't have to say anything you don't want to, got it?"

"Yes," Ziva said, looking down again. Suddenly, he reached out for her hand which had been resting on the table near her plate. He wasn't trying to rush things, but rather show her that he cared. Surprised again, this time having surprised herself, she let him take it. She felt safe. Protected. "Tony, I do not understand. What is it you are trying to do?" She read the answer in his eyes.

"You deserve someone who can be vulnerable. Open. That is what you want, yes? I cannot. I am sorry but that is not how I am. I… I cannot," She stood, feeling uneasy about the whole conversation. She began pacing as she said this, slowly, but pacing nonetheless.

"Didn't you just here me say—" He stood too.

"People say a lot of things, Tony. It does not mean that they mean it,"

"But I do, Ziva,"

"No, Tony, you do not and you know it. If you could have any woman you wanted, you would choose someone who you know trusts you with anything and everything, yes?"

"Oh, so now you don't trust me?"

"It is not that Tony—" She saw the hurt in his eyes, and tears began to well up in her own.

"Listen, I'm sorry about everything that happened back at the warehouse. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it. I'm sorry I let you get shot and I'm sorry you had to pay for my mistakes. I'm sorry I tried to show you that I loved you and I'm sorry I was stupid enough to believe that maybe you loved me back," With that, he stormed out of the apartment, leaving Ziva stunned, still standing in her dining room.

After several minutes, she finally made her way to her bedroom. She lay down on her bed, unable to think or cry or sleep. The rain had begun again, and now it seemed to be singing a song of regret outside her window.