A/N - Thanks to Cindy for dealing my crazy emails and Skype conversations.

Here it is - the last chapter. I thought this was a good stopping point. What do I know?

Thanks for reading.

Growing up, I never got into comics that much but Christopher Reeve as Superman and Adam West as Batman in the first movie adaptations made me want to be a superhero. Sure, some will say you either love Batman or you love Superman, but not both. I don't even want to talk about Spiderman.

Batman AKA Bruce Wayne was seeking revenge after having witnessed the murder of his parents at a young age. Bruce, the billionaire playboy and philanthropist – he just wanted justice. To me, Batman is special. He didn't have innate superpowers. He had to acquire all these skills because he wasn't born with them like Superman. Everyday, he went up against criminals and villains, all while trying to be the best man he could be. Though, I suppose the suits made the ladies swoon. You can be flying all around or fending of animals and other creatures in a Zenga suit. Interestingly enough, Batman and Superman's leading ladies were reporters. My leading lady is a ninja.

I guess there is a little Batman in all of us. Most people just want to do the right thing.

Running into Wendy was not how I expected my day to start out. Of course, she looks great – some things don't change. What was there to say to her? Thanks for calling off our engagement. Why aren't you still a teacher? Why are you here?

I'm the liaison for Wendy on this case. Thanks, Boss. I maintain my composure until I see Gibbs coming down the stairs. I grab his arm like I'm not going to make it. I whisper, "You were there when it went south." Throwing a file at my chest is his response; meaning, suck it up, do your job and be done with it. Yeah, on it, Boss.

The day goes by in a blur as I have to be with Wendy all day. This is worse than being stuck at the safe house with EJ. As Senior Field Agent, it's my duty to make sure she and her son will be in a safe place. We arrive at her house with no real conversation on the way there. Trust me, I'm a talker. But I think I used up everything I had left already.

She asks if I'm hungry, I decline the offer. And it's like all these memories come back. She seems to remember the good times, things about me I may have forgotten. Maybe I've just changed. People have a tendency to do that.

And then, we kiss. It just sort of happened. God, it felt good to get one last kiss but I feel so fucking guilty. I know it seems irrational but the only person I want to kiss is Ziva. And Wendy sure as hell ain't her. Fuck

McHungry and I are staking out the superhero bunch. He knows right away something is wrong. He notices her lipstick shade. Fuck. Luckily, I didn't see Ziva – she'd ask questions I don't want to answer. Yet.

I suppose I have been pensive lately. Thinking of how my life could be different. Imagining if I stayed in Baltimore, what would have become of me? The past is the past. And I can't continue to dwell. I just have to focus on living my life the best way I know how.

"I invited you because I wanted to see you. . . . Your turn."

"Why?"

"Because we are taking turns and now it's your turn."

"No. That is not what I meant." I step closer to her for some reason. "And you know it."

She sighs and walks around the table. "You want to know why I left." Seems like we've only been talking in circles lately.

"I want to know why you said yes to me when the answer was really no. I want to know why you waited until the very last minute to tell me the truth; and most of all, my runaway bride, I would like to know why."

"Would it make a difference know if you weren't so sad and so lonely? You wouldn't even be wondering."

I do a three-sixty turn. It felt right, "Sad and lonely? You have me confused with Bosco . . . Would you like to see my little black e-book?"

"Show me whatever you like. It's not going to change what I see with my own eyes. You should tell her how you feel – whoever she is."

Talking about how you feel about someone should be easy, right. You should never wait, right. The moment could pass you by. "A. Not going to happen. B. Get out of my head. C. Answer the question."

"I left because I wasn't ready to meet the one. And you were the one."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"You sure? 'Cause from what I see, you spent the last nine and half years avoiding real relationships. Ours was broken first – which is why I left my hero cop and married a stockbroker who cared more about money than people. I wasn't ready to meet the one when we met, Tony. But I sent you that invitation because I am now."

And just like that, she leaves me again; only this time she told me exactly how she felt. It was a better sayonara than that of nine years ago.

I stand in the flower shop for a few minutes. I look around at the all the bouquets, the single flowers and the plants. These flowers will make someone's day a little brighter, a little happier and a little more fragrant.

I contemplate bringing sunshine into someone's life today – but I suppose that can be done with or without flowers. Will I regret it? No, because for the first time in a very long time, I am being completely honest with myself.

I have to start somewhere, right?

I leave the flower shop and head to Ziva's. I debate calling her first, but I stand outside her door for a second; what if she's not there, what if she's entertaining? Oh well! - I knock and I wait. I hear the locks turning and the door opens. She smiles as she stands there in a tank-top and yoga pants with her hair in curls. Looking like she's in for a night of relaxation.

"I wondered what your night would become." She hasn't invited me in yet, she stands with her left shoulder on the door and her hand grasping the doorknob.

"You did?"

"Yes, I know you went to see Wendy." As if I have something to hide. "How did that go?"

"She said that I was the one."

"So, so. . ." She seems flummoxed, "you are going to reconcile?"

"No, Zee-vah. I don't feel that way about Wendy anymore. It's been nine and half fucking years. I got the closure I needed, that the breakup wasn't about me. Plus, I gave my heart away a long time ago." I let out a big sigh. Breathe, big boy. It's Ziva. "I'm tired of pretending."

She has a look on her face that I can't discern. I can tell she wants to ask 'Who?' but she seems to be afraid of the answer.

"When did you know?"

She says nothing as she moves out the doorway. I grab her hand and look into her eyes. Tell her. Tell her. Tell her.

"A long time ago, I was a goner. I knew for sure when I thought I lost you. Nothing made sense, when you weren't here. Nothing. I depend on you for more than you think. Before that, when I kissed you, I didn't want to stop. Do you know that every fucking day I have to fight myself for you? Zee-vah, I still have nightmares from Somalia, thinking I might not get to you. That I may only find your body. Thinking I may never get to tell you I'm sorry. Or how I think of Paris - that night, just the two of us. Do I regret that? No. Do you? I don't know because we've never discussed it." I grab her other hand, "I've almost lost you a handful of times. I'm fully aware you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. But there is always doubt, you may not come back. And I can't bear that. I want it all. The house. The kids. The dog. You and me.

"What about the rules?"

"There are always exceptions."

"Tony, do you not think I have feelings? Do you think I do not remember Somalia or Paris? You saved me, Tony. You. You were the only one who came for me." She steps closer to me. "You. I knew you would. I have some . . . you and Gibbs call them gut feelings . . .feelings about it. I told you that you were my significant other, which means everything to me. Watching you leave Israel was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. But I had orders from my father and I had to obey them. I got home and I cried, oh did I cry. I hoped you would call me, but my phone never rang. I thought about calling you but I did not think you would have anything to say to me. During that mission, I did not know if I would see you again." She puts her hand on my face. "I did not think I would be able to look into your eyes, or see you smile or hear some ridiculous movie quote or trivia. I carried your face with me. I still do. I remember thinking that I was dreaming when that burlap sack was taken off my head. I was not. You were there. You said you could not live without me. In that moment, I knew I could not live without you."

She steps into my arms. "What happens now?"

I don't say a word, I just kiss her. "What we do best?"

"A movie, food and wine?"

"I was thinking something more romantic."

"Like Paris?"

"It is Valentine's Day."

"Everyday should be Valentine's Day if you are with someone you love."

"Are you saying you love me, Dah-veed?"

She laughs. "Did I say anything about love?"

"I must be hearing things."

"I hope we do not need to get you hearing aids soon."

"Ouch. That was low."

"Yet somewhat accurate."

We make our way to the couch, I'm still chuckling. Pfft. I don't need hearing aids, right. Maybe I can blame Gibbs. I don't think those headslaps help at all. Interestingly enough two sets of plates, silverware and wine glasses are already on the coffee table. "How did you know?"

"I just did."

"That's not an acceptable answer."

"I knew yesterday, when Wendy and I were in the observation room. You were uncomfortable with both of us there. Yet, you put your hand on my arm – silently asking me to stay. I knew."

"What?"

"Your eyes, Tony. Your eyes do not lie."

"That's good to know."

She smiles and presses play. She leans into me, kisses me cheek and says, "Here's looking at you, kid."