Pivotal Moments

A/N First off, let me say that I saw The Proposal with a friend yesterday and Michael Nouri (Eli David) was in it and I had a three-second freakout before I even recognized who he was. Too much NCIS? Methinks perhaps...or maybe it was just that I was planning his death...

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June 28th, Washington DC

There was a buzz at Tony's hip and he smiled. When he glanced up, he saw McGee smirking at the look on his face and angrily gestured the man back to his desk. But as he flipped his phone open, the smile returned. In the week since Ziva had been moved to DC, to finish her recuperation at one of the nearby military hospitals, she'd resumed her practice of leaving messages for Tony to assure him of her safety. This one said simply: Home. He relaxed as he read it. Today she'd been released from the hospital, and Vance's expression when Tony mentioned it had told him not to ask for more time off. But Rebekah must have gotten them safely to the apartment she'd spent the week renting and setting up; Tony had craftily sent her to check out places near his own home.

"Well?" Gibbs asked from across the aisle.

Tony looked up guiltily.

"How is she?"

"They made it to the apartment," Tony said quickly.

"Then put your phone away and get to work, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped. Tony closed the phone and returned it to his pocket, but when he glanced back at Gibbs, he was smiling, too.

***

Later that day, Tony was startled to glance up and see Rebekah leaving MTAC. He caught up with her at the bottom of the stairs.

"What's up?" Tony asked as casually as he could.

Rebekah grinned, seeing right though him. "Don't worry, she's safe. I left her cleaning and organizing the knives Abby recovered from her old place."

Tony smiled in spite of himself. "So what did Vance need you for?"

Rebekah hesitated, giving him a meaningful look. "Oh," she said lightly, "he offered me a position here if I want to leave Mossad."

"That's great!" Tony said in surprise. "Are you going to take it?"

Rebekah bit her lip. "Perhaps. I have to go back to Israel for a couple days before I can make up my mind. Would you mind staying with Ziva while I'm gone?"

Tony suppressed his urge to grin like an idiot, but the teasing expression on Rebekah's face told him she sensed his glee and approved. "I guess I could," he said cavalierly.

"I had better get back," Rebekah said quickly. "I need to pack, my flight leaves at seven. Can you come by after work?"

"Sure," he answered, and followed her with his eyes as Rebekah turned and left. Tony felt something loosen within him as he considered the opportunity to spend some uninterrupted time with Ziva. She hadn't really talked to him since her rescue, and he wasn't sure what was going on in her head. But this would be the perfect opportunity to find out.

***

Ziva pressed the release on the knife. It didn't open. She pressed again, and again, then finally tossed it to her left hand, sprung it open and flung it into a wall with a shriek of frustration. The cast on her right wrist was preventing her from all but the most basic functions, and now it was even stopping her from using her knives as they were meant to be used.

A knock at the door startled her so badly Ziva was glad she wasn't holding the knife any longer; she might have injured herself.

"Ziva?" Tony called out.

She relaxed at once, but still checked the peephole before letting him in.

"Hey," he said softly when she opened the door.

Ziva felt inexplicably shy. "Come in."

Tony held up his overnight bag in one hand and bags from Blockbuster and New China Kitchen in the other. "Brought some old favorites."

Ziva smiled. "James Bond?"

He shook his head woefully. "Nope, your old favorites."

She looked at Tony, perplexed, until he pulled The Sound of Music from the bag. Then she smiled faintly, and took it from him, turning to pop it into her new DVD player.

Tony watched her, confused himself. Perhaps she wasn't as back-to-normal as he'd thought. The thought didn't fade as the night progressed. Ziva sat at the opposite end of the couch from him the entire evening, never so much as tucking her legs up in his direction. She seemed only half-attentive to the rambunctious children on the screen, saving the rest of her interest for the door and windows and never singing along. And while he certainly intended to give her all the space she needed, it worried Tony that his partner still seemed so out of sorts.

When the movie ended, Ziva rose abruptly and said goodnight, then headed into the bedroom and closed the door. Tony called a goodnight after her, startled again by her demeanor.

All the same, he supposed she could work her way through what had happened any way she chose, and he stretched out on the couch comfortably enough.

***

A blood-curdling scream woke Tony in the middle of the night, and he was off the couch and on his feet before he even knew he was awake.

"Ziva?" he shouted, sure she was being attacked again. In two steps he was at her bedroom door and flung it open to see her writhing alone in the sheets. Still sleeping, Ziva smacked her cast into the nightstand as she flailed and curled into herself, wailing softly.

"Ziva," Tony said loudly, not wanting to touch her. She didn't wake. "Ziva!" he raised his voice further.

This time her eyes fluttered open, but she recoiled from him in fear.

Realizing she couldn't see him in the darkness, Tony flipped on the light by her bed.

Ziva sat up, trembling visibly. "Tony?"

"You were dreaming," he said softly.

She nodded, staring off into her nightmare. "Yes."

"Is it always this bad?" he asked, perturbed.

Ziva glanced up at him. "Usually Rebekah sleeps with me, so I don't...she wakes me first."

Tony watched her draw into herself as she grew more composed. "Do you want me to stay in here with you?"

She hesitated, then shook her head.

Tony studied her, surprised. In the hospital in Italy, he'd stayed with her several nights. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Tony," Ziva snapped.

"Okay," he said quickly. "Good night, then."

Tony returned to the couch, but the alarm had left his heart racing and his mind far from sleep. As he lay awake, a silent sentry, the memory of Ziva's screams filled Tony with images of her pain that he couldn't shut out. He only hoped none of them were true.

***

The exhaustion from laying awake all night finally caught up with Tony late the next afternoon. He'd escaped to Abby's lab where he wouldn't be interrogated about his mood.

But even Abby, it seemed, was in the mood to push him.

"So what's wrong?" she demanded as he walked in.

Tony shook his head.

"Tony!" she said, louder than he'd have liked. "Is something wrong with Ziva?"

She sounded so desperately worried that Tony held up his hands to calm her. "She's fine, don't worry." But then, as Tony took a seat on one of Abby's stools, he thought better of avoiding the issue. "She won't talk to me, Abbs."

Abby shrugged. "You know what she went through, Tony. Would you want to talk about it?"

He rose and paced the lab from one end to the other, considering, before returning to stand in front of her. "Abby, she won't talk to me about anything right now, and we've always been able to before..."

She pursed her lips. "Is she still mad about Michael?"

He cocked his head. "I don't think so." Certainly if she was she'd given no indication of it.

"Have you told her you're there to listen?"

Tony shook his head. "She knows that."

Abby gave him a look. "Tell her anyway."

Tony nodded. It was worth a try.

***

That night was a repeat of the one before: Tony made all the dinner conversation by himself, then put on Casablanca and quoted along with Bogart while Ziva sat silently through Ingrid Bergman's lines.

Finally, as she stood to go to bed, Tony rose with her, touching her shoulder ever so lightly to keep her attention. She looked up at him, and he spoke slowly and carefully. "Ziva, we've never talked about what happened between us and it's fine, we don't ever have to. Or if after Somalia you just don't want to—that's fine, too. But we've always been partners, even when you were pissed at me, you've never shut me out like this before. I get that you have Rebekah, and that's—that's great, but I wish you felt you could talk to me, too, is all." His voice trailed off.

Ziva closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, then looked up at him hesitantly. "I read your report."

"Memorized it, I remember."

"Not that one," she said, clenching her jaw a moment. "Of—about Somalia."

"Oh. Why?" Now he was confused. Didn't she remember?

"When you came down the hall, you had a shootout with a guard."

"Yeah. So?"

"I was...standing on the chair. When I heard guns, I tried to turn and fell."

"I'm sorry," he said slowly, not sure what she meant.

"It's not that—" she laid her hands against his chest a moment, then pulled back a step so she could look him fully in the face. "Tony, there are realities of my life that you have never had to deal with. And not having to see them has made you who you are, a man who enjoys escapist melodrama and can take childish delight in a stapler."

He tried not to flinch at her portrait, and returned to the point. "Why was my report important?"

"Tony, I don't want to take that away from you," Ziva said, agitated. "I don't want to change you, and even as you stand there demanding answers, you don't know who I could change you into. And neither do I."

"Ziva," he said slowly, deliberately, "I love you. And I'm willing to be whoever loving you turns me into. What happened?"

She took a deep breath. "If you'd been a second later—I was going to jump off and sever my spinal cord. I was going to kill myself."

For a split second all he could see was what that moment could have been, and the pain of finding her warm but lifeless ripped a gasp from Tony's throat. But then reality returned, a welcome truth, and his hands were on her shoulders before he remembered not to grab her.

Ziva saw his concern and before he could pull away, she pressed toward him, her arms around him. Tony held her tightly, to protect her, to keep her his, craving her like that other night he'd almost lost her—

She leaned up and kissed him. There was joy for both of them in the kiss. Joy that they were finally reunited, close for the first time in nearly a month.

Tony drew back as Ziva's hand slid into his hair, nervous about how quickly his body was reacting to her.

Ziva read the concern in his eyes and pressed her lips to his jaw just below his ear, smiling at his quick exhalation. She stretched up an inch to say softly, "just be gentle the first time. And don't pin me down, I might knock you out."

There was alarm on his face as she pulled back and Ziva smiled fondly. "I'm mostly kidding, Tony."

"Are you sure you want to?" Tony asked conscientiously.

She slid her arms around his neck, rolling her eyes as her cast bumped his shoulder. "My doctor says it's fine."

"That's not what I asked."

"Yes," she said simply. She looked straight into his eyes as she spoke, making sure to be clear.

Tony leaned forward to kiss her again.

The care Tony took to be gentle as he made love to Ziva overwhelmed her. As much as she could feel he wanted her, he waited at every moment for her to consent, was careful never to hold her too tightly or rest the weight of his body on her. When she flinched once, he nearly stopped altogether and she had to ease him back down to the bed. But in the end she came with a shriek and he followed with a moan, and they lay close and warm in the dark, both content.

"Tony," Ziva whispered as their heartbeats slowed.

"Ziva," he answered with a gasp.

Her lips curled in a smile, one of many he'd saved for her. "I love you, too."

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A/N Okay, I lied. One more! Because where has Rebekah been this whole chapter? Hmm...

Sorry if that got too mushy right there at the end, but I figure they earned it after 25 chapters of angst.