Making Mistakes

Wow, that was a completely unintentional hiatus! I tend to write in spurts where I write everyday and then suddenly work/life overtake me and I entirely forget how I ever fit writing into my life for a while. Actually I tried to write this last weekend and then a gorgeous boy at the coffee shop I was sitting in starting talking to me and we basically went on a date right there. Unusual. Anyway now we're on spring break, so hopefully I'll have more time. This chapter is on the short side, but I wanted to get things rolling again. Let me know if you like it, I've missed you all!

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tony woke slowly. The morning air was cool on his bare chest and he tugged the sheet up from his waist. It was light blue as he pulled it over his head. Tony's eyes snapped open. His sheets were white. Sliding his hand over the bed, he reached for Ziva, but the place beside him was empty.

He sat up. There was no sound from the bathroom. Frowning, Tony searched around for his boxers. They were nowhere to be found, and he decided he'd lost them before they made it to the bedroom. He wrapped the sheet around his waist to stave off the cold of the March morning and opened the door into the living room.

Ziva stood at the window, her back to him.

"Good morning," Tony said softly, snatching his boxers off the floor and pulling them on.

She didn't turn.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice still gravelly with sleep. He crossed the room to her and rested a hand on her shoulder.

Ziva spun on her toes so that she was facing him, only an inch between them. Her eyes meeting his were deadly serious.

His breath caught as Tony fought panic. "Ziva?"

She dropped her eyes to his still-bare chest. "Last night was...amazing," she glanced up through her lashes to smirk at him for a moment. "But there are still things we need to discuss before we can jump back into this."

"Okay," Tony said slowly. "Shoot."

Ziva frowned in confusion.

Tony grinned. "It means, go ahead. Just so we're clear, I'd be perfectly happy if you never shot me."

She rolled her eyes, then her features stilled. "I woke up earlier, and I was watching you." She paused and he waited. "And I couldn't help the fact that I was nervous, laying there, that something would go wrong again, that some other thing you have known forever would suddenly come between us." Ziva swallowed hard. "In these last couple weeks, I have lost some trust for you."

It was almost worse than if she'd shot him. "Do you want me to leave?" Tony asked, dread in his voice. "Do you not want to do this anymore?"

Ziva hesitated but shook her head slowly. "No. This is what I want. But Tony, if you ever, ever do that to me again, we will be over. There will be no more starting again or ignoring our past."

He relaxed slightly at her words. "I can live with that." Tony leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "I plan to earn your trust, Ziva."

She smiled widely, and he kissed the corner of her mouth. Ziva turned her head to capture his lips and they swayed together, leaning into each other.

Then Ziva gasped.

Tony pulled back to see her face, but found pain there instead of pleasure. "Ziva?" he asked, concerned.

She flinched, gently pulled his hand from her hip. In the space between her pajama bottoms and tank top, he could see purplish bruises.

"Did I do that last night?" Tony asked urgently.

Ziva closed her eyes. "No. Damon--"

Tony ground his teeth.

She looked up hesitantly. "I did not realize until that night how necessary you have become to me."

He nodded slowly. "The rules are back in effect now, though, right?"

"They are." Ziva smiled, then grabbed his hand and tugged Tony toward the kitchen. "Would you like some coffee? I put the pot on."

Tony accepted readily and watched as she poured the milk and sugar into his, then glanced around the apartment. It had come to seem almost like his second home; his college sweatshirt hung on hook near the door and his spare cellphone charger sat on Ziva's endtable beside her own. He tensed. A picture of them with Gibbs and McGee sat on the mantle. The pain of the night before came flooding back.

"How the hell do we go back to work on Monday?" he asked softly.

Ziva glanced where he was looking and joined him, handing him his coffee. "We are both good at pretending not to care what our fathers think or do," she said, a trace of irony in her voice.

Tony frowned. "This is different." He turned to look at Ziva. "What kind of leader breaks all the rules, shuts everyone else out--" He swallowed hard. "I could have my own team if I wanted it. I've always thought I could do more as his second in command than anywhere else. But if this is the kind of man he is..."

Ziva's eyes were wide. She shook her head slowly. "I do not know what the answer to that is, Tony. But as upset as I was last night," she swallowed hard, "when I told him he was the same as my father," Ziva nodded as she heard Tony's breath catch in shock, "I do not really believe that. He has a sense of justice that does not match exactly the laws of your country, but his ideals themselves do not offend me. And I believe that he loves us in a way I never quite believed my father." She flinched with the last admission, reassured by the way Tony nodded agreement.

"Fine," Tony said softly. "But I'm not sure where that leaves things."

Ziva smiled crookedly. "Do you remember when we were trapped in that shipping container? When you asked me how I first realized that my father was not perfect?"

Tony snorted. "If I knew how deep those issues ran I'd have known better than to risk you injuring me in some way."

She grinned for a moment, then sobered. "We all have that moment with our parents. It is a wonder it took so long to see Gibbs as a man and not as a hero. So...I do not know how this will get resolved, and I expect it will take a while. But I do not think you should consider leaving until you have given it some time."

"Alright," Tony sighed. He sipped his coffee. It was just right.

The phone rang and Ziva turned to answer it.

"Hello?" her voice rang out through the apartment.

Tony drank in the curve of her neck as she tilted her head to listen. He saw the moment her entire body tensed.

Ziva spun, looking toward him with wide eyes. "Shalom," she whispered into the phone.