CHAPTER 6: TWICE IN A LIFETIME

Tony had never realized how much he hated hospitals. Even foreign hospitals. Especially foreign hospitals. Especially foreign hospitals where the doctors spoke little if any English and Israeli officers didn't keep him informed as they were updated.

She was still clinging precariously to life. Clinging by a thread so thin, it threatened to snap with every breath she took. Her body starved, battered, ravaged, broken, pierced, cut, burnt and then gunned down, all in a span of a few weeks. Had it really only been just a few short months ago that they had been back in her apartment in Washington, trying to forget that a child's murderer had been released on a technicality? Just a few short months ago that he had woken up without her warm, soft body curved into his?

Was it possible to live without her, now that he knew that she existed? Could he really move on with life, knowing that she was gone? God, it hurt worse than it had when he'd lied to Jeanne, told her it was all a lie. It hurt like somebody had taken the tenderest slice of his heart and stomped on it with hobnailed boots.

Sitting in the chair by her bedside, Tony watched her breathe, rubbing his thumb lightly and absently across her palm, her hand motionless in his.

"She is still unconscious?" asked one of the officers quietly as he entered the room. The Mossad officers seemed to be coming and going on some sort of pre-determined schedule. This one, Tony didn't mind: he was quiet enough, left Tony well enough alone. He couldn't remember the officer's name – not that he cared, anyway, he just wanted Ziva awake and on the next flight home with him.

"Obviously," Tony replied tersely, looking up briefly and then returning his gaze to Ziva.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to state the obvious," the officer apologized, his hands in his pockets. "It is just… it is a little unnerving for all of us to see her like this."

"No kidding?" Tony asked sarcastically. "This isn't exactly normal Ziva behavior."

The officer laughed slightly. Then he took a seat in the chair opposite Tony and said, "You do not know the half of it, Agent DiNozzo. You did not grow up with Ziva. I did."

"Simon, I was told I might find you here," Jenny said quietly as she entered the room. "Tony, go back to the hotel. I'll stay with Ziva for tonight. Officer Rosen and I have some discussions to hold."

"With all due respect, director," Tony said, as he gripped Ziva's hand a little more tightly, "Ziva is my partner. I'm not going to abandon her."

"Tony, this is not a request," Jenny repeated. "Go back to the hotel." She gave him a stern glare when he opened his mouth to argue. Sighing in disgust, the young agent got to his feet and stalked out. Once gone, Jenny returned her attention to Simon as she took Tony's chair. "It's been quite some time, Simon."

***

The sun was shining brightly that day, Ziva remembered. Even though it was winter, the sun still shone. It was like a sign. A sign that it was meant to be.

"Ziva – " came Ari's voice from the doorway. Gasping with delight, she turned around. "Ari! You made it!" Laughing, she let him wrap her up into his arms and swing her around. "Please tell me you're going to stay, Ari," she begged. "Just ignore Father. Please stay."

"Zivaleh, you know I can't," her brother said softly, even as he laid a gentle kiss on her cheek and readjusted the veil he had knocked askew. "I came to give you my congratulations." He smiled at her. "It's a beautiful day to get married. Like a sign. I think Allah approves of Raphael."

It was such a shame moments like these only happened once in a lifetime.

***

The sun was shining brightly that day, she remembered. Even though it was winter, the sun still shone. It was like a sign. A sign that it was meant to be.

"Ziva – " came his voice from behind her. His arms slid around her waist, pulling her back against his warm, solid body. "We don't have to make anything of this. All we need to do is take it one day at a time."

And then one day at a time became something of substance, something of permanence, no matter what they told themselves. It became almost expected that when she woke in the morning, he would be there, his arm over her waist and the heat of his body infiltrating every one of her pores. His lips pressing light, drowsy kisses against her neck.

It was such a shame moments like these only happened once in a lifetime.

***

Tony had just reentered the hospital room when her eyes began to move beneath her closed eyelids. Gasping in delight, he quickly retook his seat.

"Do not get your hopes up, Agent DiNozzo," Simon told him quietly. "She has been doing that for the last ten hours. The doctors say it may just be muscle spasms."

"Killjoy," Tony muttered darkly.

***

The day she met him, she could've cared less about him. Ari was her priority.

It was the first day of kindergarten, she recalled. He had been the second to arrive, with Kemuel. She couldn't remember much else about that day, but she remembered him entering the room and trying to establish the pecking order. What was Raphael Bashan but a boy? He didn't have a motorcycle. Ari did. Ari was coming to Tel Aviv tonight on his motorcycle, and he would let her ride with him, just like always.

But if she had to pass the hours until Ari came, at least she would have somebody who would keep up with her. "Bet you can't catch me, Rafi!"

***

The day she met him, she could've cared less about him. Ari was her priority.

He blamed her brother, and by extension, he blamed her. The Americans were accusing Ari of murdering their agent, when it was just impossible, unfathomable that he would do such a thing without first telling her. Even when he took Agent Todd to warn her of the attack, he had warned Ziva. He had laid out his plan piece by piece for her.

She would prove them wrong. She would prove them all wrong.

***

"Still not awake?" Gibbs asked quietly as he entered the room. Both Tony and Simon shook their heads. "Why don't you boys both go catch some air?" he suggested. "I'll stay here with Ziva." When the two young men looked reluctant, he added, "This is not a request."

Sighing as he slid into the chair DiNozzo had emptied, he watched his agent's pale, motionless face. "You'd better wake up soon, Ziva," he said. "I don't think anybody can take much more of this."

***

The first time she'd kissed him, they were on an undercover mission.

They had returned to their safe house late. They had narrowly escaped the gunfire of Hamas. The Komemuite officers were still battling, but the officers-in-training were liabilities at that point. They were supposed to wait in the truck, and the military on the mission would return them to Tel Aviv.

It was unplanned, as she impulsively leaned in and kissed him. Rafi was in shock, but not enough to ignore her proposal. As his arms slid around her waist, Ziva wrapped her arms around his neck.

It was the first time that night for a lot of things.

***

The first time she'd kissed him, they were on an undercover mission.

The man was charming, she'd give him that much. He knew how to play the game. He was good at what he did, she hadn't seen anybody the least bit suspicious since their arrival an hour ago. He almost seemed to be having fun playing this game with her. When she felt him brush dangerously close, it took all her willpower to stop what came naturally to her since becoming metsada: to do whatever it took to complete the mission, and if that meant sleeping with him…

But she couldn't. She just couldn't. So she hit him instead.

***

"She any closer to waking up, boss?" Tony asked softly as he came back in. Gibbs shook his head. "Somehow, I didn't think so," he murmured, replacing Gibbs in the chair.

Gibbs sighed. "Eventually, DiNozzo, somebody's going to have to give the word."

"No," Tony said immediately. "Never."

"I hate to tell you, DiNozzo, but it's not up to you," Gibbs replied as he left.

***

The first moment she realized that she loved him, it wasn't an extraordinary moment. It was just another day, another class, another taunt, another kiss. Another moment where Kem would break in with teases, where Motel would interrupt with something silly and irrelevant, where Myriam and Sarah would call her off into another girls-only conference, where Simon and Reuven's familial rivalry would burst through. Just another day when she argued with her father in the morning, said goodbye to Tali at the school doors, and hoped to hear from Ari at night. Just an ordinary day in an ordinary life.

He had looked at her with those sparkling brown eyes, and he had just said her name. "Ziva." As though it were the most precious commodity in the world, as though if he were to say it too many times, it would lose its luster. His hand had brushed against her arm as he had passed in the classroom, and he had just smiled. He wasn't even smiling at her, and yet she knew that when class was done and they'd left for the day, that smile would be for her, and she would bask in being somebody's single, solitary affection for just a little while.

***

The first moment she realized that she loved him, it wasn't an extraordinary moment. It was just another day, another investigation, another tease, another look. Another moment where Gibbs would burst in, where Ducky or Jenny would show up, where McGee would return from getting lunch, where Abby would phone with exciting breaks. Just another day when she ran in the morning, kissed him goodbye at her apartment when he left to change, and fell asleep in his arms at his own apartment that night. Just an ordinary day in an ordinary life.

He had looked at her with those sparkling blue eyes, and he had just said her name. "Ziva." As though it were a new wondrous addition to his vocabulary, as though if he didn't say it often enough, it would disappear. He would lean over her shoulder to read a report, his breath tickling against the side of her face, and he would just smile. He wasn't even smiling at her, and yet she knew that when work was finally through and they'd left for the day, that smile would be for her, and she would bask in having somebody's absolute and utter devotion for just a little while.

***

Tony had fallen asleep at her bedside, hand still holding onto her own unresponsive one. His head lolled against his shoulder. He would keep to his word: he would not leave her until the day she died of her own accord, and until she'd been buried.

But he was tired after days without sleep, and the desperate slumber to which he had finally succumbed held him so captive that he didn't even stir as the hand slid out of his and the young officer who had laid so motionless for days woke, and sat up slowly.