A/N: Wow, such fantastic response this past week. You guys are incredible. And here's a shout out to my awesome forum friends--hey guys!

Here's today's chapter. We get to see Tony's initial response to Ziva's letter. This is one of my favorite chapters, I think. I hope you enjoy it.

Tony awoke the next morning, her words still haunting him as he slept and as he poured his coffee and as he put on jeans and a t-shirt and coat and as he walked out the door. It was eight in the morning, and surprisingly, he didn't feel as tired as he had been. It may have had something to do with the fact that he took two sleeping pills very early the night before, but he preferred to think it had to do with the letter.

He wasn't quite sure what motivated him to take a walk that morning. It had rained over night, and the morning was soft and foggy and overcast. He walked down the long pathway that led up to the Lincoln Memorial, the world quiet around him. The tourists had been shooed away by the rain, all likely crowding up the Smithsonian and Library of Congress. An occasional jogger flew by, but other than that, he seemed to be alone with the birds.

The air was cool and mysterious. He could faintly see the Memorial a couple hundred yards ahead, the Washington Monument standing stoically behind him, lost in the fog. Tony shivered and looked over his shoulder. He felt as if someone was watching him. I'm here with you. No one was around. No one but him and the pigeons that flew by quietly, disappearing into the fog one by one. He smiled to himself, remembering how Ziva could always tell when she was being followed or watched. She always said it was a part of her training, but he always thought it was just a natural ability.

So much had come naturally to her. Fighting, knife-throwing, shooting, interrogating, going undercover, and then eventually, investigating. Few things caused her trouble—conquering American idioms, tolerating those who irritated her, interrogating without physically injuring the subject, falling for the right person…

They never had gotten the timing right. When she was ready he was with Jeanne or healing from the ordeal. When he was ready, Jenny died and they were separated for the summer. And when they were reunited, things just weren't the same.

Tony looked around and sighed. The loneliness, the silence… It was doing something to him, something he couldn't stand. Tony closed his eyes and tried to remember what day it was. Sunday. The team had the day off. He pulled out his cell phone. Almost two hours had passed since he left his apartment. Dialing a familiar number, he was greeted by the kind voice of a Scotsman.

"Hey Ducky. Feel like going for a stroll?"

Thirty minutes later, Ducky was walking beside him, rambling on about how the weather reminded him of some time he had spent in London, England, studying.

"It always rained on Sundays. One after the other, faithful as my mother's tendency to fire our maid at least twice a day. I always hired her again," He explained sensibly. "But that's not what you invited me to walk with you for. Certainly you had something else in mind to talk about," He said insightfully, looking at the Italian who stared at the dirt ground as they walked slowly and comfortably. "Perhaps you were thinking of something more along the lines of a certain Mossad officer?"

Tony's eyes shot to Ducky, who didn't flinch, but instead seemed to read him. Tony sighed and looked away with a shrug. "I dunno. I got a letter from her,"

"From Ziva?"

Tony nodded. "She wrote it to me, six months ago. Gave it to her cousin to give to me if she died,"

"Oh my," Ducky said, furrowing his brow. "If you don't mind me asking, what did she write?"

"It wasn't long," Tony said. "That was like her,"

"She always was very straightforward,"

"She said I changed her, Ducky. Said I taught her how to live and laugh," He chuckled. "Sounds like something you'd find on a Lifetime movie," His smile fell as he moved on. "I don't buy it,"

"And why not?"

"How could I change anyone? I'm obnoxious and I talk about movies way too much and I haven't had a steady relationship for," He paused before moving on. "For a while, and I eat like crap and I had some drinking issues a while back and I've always flit from woman to woman and--"

"She told you she loved you," Ducky realized, cutting in. Tony didn't answer. "Well she obviously saw something in you that you didn't,"

"But what, Ducky? Look at me! I'm a mess," He said, looking down at his rumpled shirt and slightly faded jeans—faded from wash, not wear. His hair was clean enough but a little overgrown and he hadn't shaved that morning.

"Perhaps she saw someone who loved life, who was willing to take a risk now and then," Love takes risks. "Perhaps you inspired her to do the same,"

"Why would anyone listen to me?" He said, defeated. "There is nothing but crap around here,"

"She saw beneath all of that. She saw a man who hurts more than he lets on, cares more than he acts, loves more than he shows," Tony said nothing, but looked around at the surrounding area, his eyes following the birds. "You loved her back, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," He said softly. "And I never told her," He chuckled in frustration. "She said that in her letter. Said she hoped that by the time I got her letter we would have taken our chance," His voice was filled with regret, his eyes with pain.

"What else did she say?" Ducky asked after a moment.

"She said she wanted me to find purpose and happiness and love. Said she wanted me to not give up living," He said, speaking slowly, holding back the tears that threatened to fall.

They had reached the Memorial now. They walked up the steps and finally settled on the top steps, overlooking the nation's capitol. "She must have loved you a great deal,"

That was it. A relentless tear fell down his face and he wiped it away hastily. Ducky put a fatherly arm around Tony's arms, breaking the dam. His tears flowed freely now, unable to stop them. He felt so weak and vulnerable, but he couldn't stop himself this time.

In a few minutes, seemingly eternity, he had stopped crying, but his head hung in his hands.

"She may be gone, but she never left you alone," Ducky said quietly.

"She said that too, in her letter… I don't know what to do, Ducky,"

"Perhaps you should try and take her advice,"

"What if I don't want to?" Tony asked, wiping at his cheeks and suddenly feeling so small.

"Don't dishonor her memory, Anthony, by letting yourself go on like this. Give it a try, for her,"

Tony sighed and looked up out at the city below. He felt weak and inadequate, having failed, her and his team and Gibbs. He always had. But Ziva… Somehow she saw past all that. Saw the man he could be.

He swallowed. "Alright,"

I'm here with you.