Rifiuto: Non Miriena

He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, the blankets gathered around them. She settled next to him, reaching out to play with the buttons on his pajama top. He watched her for several minutes, concern in his green eyes. "Still in shock?" She looked up at him. "About Tali being alive?" Slowly, she nodded, tucking her arm under her head. "Ziva, you know you can talk to me-"

"I thought she was dead, for three years, Tim. I thought she was dead. I thought she had died in that bombing, and I... I killed two innocents because of it." She met his gaze, tears in her own. Gently, he reached up, catching the tears as they fell.

"Ziva, you didn't know. You were out for revenge for the death of someone you loved, and you received it. It was not your fault. You were lied to, just as she was. You were never to blame." She nodded, letting his words sink in before curling into his chest. He wrapped his arms tight around her, pressing a kiss to her head.

He was sound asleep, his dark curls falling into his eyes. Gently, she reached out and brushed them back, chuckling internally as he shifted in his sleep. When had the little boy before her become so beautiful? So innocent? He has always been this way, because you have done everything to protect him. She sighed, leaning close. "I love you, my angel." She pressed a soft kiss to his head, before slipping out of the room. Silently, she padded into the kitchen and fixed a cup of tea, before settling in the living room with the letters she had written all those years ago.

She had been so young, so scared. And yet, she'd pulled through; she'd survived, like her father had taught her to. And she had come out all the stronger for it. And yet...

And yet, something was missing. Some big piece was missing from her life. Sure, she had her son, and Tim and now Tali back in her life, but still-

She read through the letters, until one paragraph stopped her. "'I have read books on America and seen the movies, and while I know they are not accurate or realistic, I still want what they portray. That American dream of yours. I want to live with you, in a beautiful little house with a white fence and our son. I want to wake up to you every morning, and lay next to you every night. I want you to teach our son to read, and to walk and ride a bicycle. I want to be everything and the only thing to you, just as you are to me. I want my happy ending. With you.'"

The words were there in black and white. Everything she'd fantasized about and dreamed about and wished for those nine months she was awaiting the birth of their son; those eight years she was in Israel, working with Mossad and raising Asher alone. Though the word was never mentioned, it was loud and clear.

Marriage.

She had wanted the marriage, and the family, and the house, even back then. But you were not ready then. And who is to say you are ready now? She glanced towards the bedrooms. "Because I know I am."

"Know you are what?" Her head snapped up, and she found herself staring into Tim's green eyes. "Ziva? You okay?" She nodded, quickly folding the letter and returning it to the chest.

"Ken, I... I am fine." She scooted over, allowing Tim to take a seat beside her. He leaned close, studying her.

"You sure?" She nodded, biting her lip. "Ziva, what aren't you telling me?" He narrowed his eyes, waiting. She swallowed, taking a deep breath before turning to him.

"I... I..." He waited, giving her time. "I think..."

"You think what?" She licked her lips quickly.

"I think we should get married. Now." He raised an eyebrow, eyes wide in shock.

"Now?" He repeated the word, incredulous. "Ziva... it's barely midnight. We..." He stopped, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. "Why the rush?" He asked, calmer. She sighed, then reached into the chest and pulled out the letter. After unfolding it, she handed it to him, letting him read it in silence.

"We... we both agreed, ken? That... that we would... our unspoken agreement... that we would marry when we were ready, ken?"

"Of course, but-" She turned to him, dark eyes flashing.

"I am ready, Tim." She bit her lower lip, thinking. "I... I am ready to... to get married. I... I want to get married. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. As a family, like we are supposed to be." She reached up, caressing his cheek before capturing his lips. He went along with it for several seconds before forcefully pulling away.

"Ziva-"

"You... do not want to marry me?" Her dark eyes misted over, and he set the letter down.

"No, Zi, that's not it. I... Ziva, how is this going to affect Asher? If we rush into this-"

"We rushed into that, did we not? We made Asher without thinking about consequences. What is different about this?" Tim sighed.

"I just... I don't want to disappoint you. Either you or Asher." He whispered; the like I've disappointed everyone else screamed silently at the end of his simple statement, and she reached up, taking his face in her hands.

"You have never disappointed me, Tim. And Asher... he is just happy to have his Abba in his life. And he clearly wants us to be together. If his list is any... indentation."

"Indication." He gently corrected, as she wrapped her arms around his neck. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and she climbed into his lap, searching his eyes.

"You could never disappoint me, Timothy. You do the opposite. You amaze me." She captured his lips in a deep kiss, nudging her nose against his as they broke apart. "So? Will you marry me?" He chuckled, kissing her again.

"Absolutely."