A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you for the fantastic response on the last chapter. I came home today and didn't stop smiling for five minutes. You're all amazing. Anyway, here's today's chapter. It's longer than usual, and a sweet chapter I think.

Tomorrow... Well, it should be interesting. I'll be posting twice, if it works out. So look forward to that.

Special thanks to gsr4ever and all my other fabulous friends from the forums and everyone else who has shown support in this story--you are amazing and I'm so blessed to have such awesome readers!

Anyway, enjoy!Tony tossed the basketball to Jared. The other boys had gone home for dinner, but it was still light enough to play. They had just finished a four hour-long game, their best yet.

Jared made a free throw and Tony caught the ball casually. "So, Jared. I had this idea,"

"Yeah?" He said curiously.

"I know your coach is moving next week and I thought that maybe I'd coach your team after he leaves,"

"Hm,"

"That sound okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so. You talk to Coach Heath yet?"

Tony nodded. He had, last night, after thinking about his conversation with Abby earlier that day. He got the number from Jared and one thing led to another, and before he knew it, he was Coach Tony. "Yeah, last night. He's cool with it," Tony made a basket. "So tell me, you think the other boys would be okay with that?"

Jared shrugged. "Sure,"

Tony looked at the boy quizzically. He was a good looking kid, probably the favorite of all the girls at his school. The other boys seemed to all but worship him, but he took it all in stride. He was quiet and humble, but he encouraged the players who didn't have the greatest skills. He was a strange one, that was for sure. "So Jared, tell me about your family. What are they like?"

"I dunno," He said apathetically. "My dad works a lot. My mom is a nurse, but she has the night shift so she's asleep all day,"

"I guess you're on your own a lot then, huh? No siblings?"

Jared nodded. "Nah. Dad's not a big fan of kids,"

"Well I'm sure he's a fan of you,"

Jared looked at him with a look that said, "Yeah, right." But all he said was, "Sure,"

"I was on my own a lot too. My dad was filthy rich, and my mom was a nut, but I was disinherited at twelve, so that kinda put a damper on things,"

"Yeah, I guess that would," Jared took a shot, followed by the sweet sound of a swoosh. "What do you do? Like, what's your job?"

"I work for NCIS. It's like cops for the Navy and Marine Corps,"

"So you catch bad guys and stuff, right? Is it cool?"

"Yeah, it is. And we've got a great team,"

"Team?"

"Yeah, kinda like in basketball. We've got a little of everything and everyone has a different part. You know the drill,"

Jared actually looked interested for once. "Tell me about them,"

Tony grinned. "Well there's six of us. There's Abby—you'd love her. She's kinda crazy and goth but she's the happiest person I know. And don't tell her I said this, but she's got a ton of tattoos, some which I haven't even seen," Jared grinned back, the first time since Tony had met him. "Then we've got Tim, who is the best with computers. I don't understand half of what he says, but he's a real nice guy. And then there's Ducky. He's our medical examiner—he does the autopsies. He's from Scotland and is always telling these really long stories, but he's a really smart man. He always knows what to say,"

"Who's your boss?"

"Gibbs. Pretty quiet guy, unless he's mad, in which case, I either run or shut up. He gives us a head slap like this when we mess up," He demonstrated by giving himself a gentle headslap. "The coolest thing about him is that he can tell when you lie. Which is good for our jobs, but not when I come in late,"

Jared laughed a little as he dribbled the ball a little. He moved to make his free throw but stopped short and looked at Tony. "You said there were six. Who's the sixth?"

Tony smiled and fiddled with his watch for a second. "You seem very interested. Why?" Tony said, avoiding the question by taking the ball and making his own shot.

"Hey, I asked you first,"

Tony sighed a little and looked away. "My partner, Ziva. She died a few weeks ago,"

"Wow, I'm sorry… What was she like?"

Tony was slightly taken aback at the boy's response. Mature, like he was familiar with it, and the odd look in his eyes… "Ziva was… amazing. She was pretty intimidating, actually. She was a ninja. She kicked my butt all the time and we fought a lot, but it was… It was great," He said, the last part coming in very low and sad sounding.

"You miss her, huh?"

"More than anything," Tony chuckled a little after a moment. "I think she'd be pretty proud of me, actually,"

"Why?" Jared asked, his freckled face scrunching a little.

"She wanted me to do something with myself, you know? Get off my couch for once, I guess,"

"She sounds great,"

"She was," Tony checked his watch after noticing how dark it had grown. "Eight twenty-seven. You'd probably head home,"

"Yeah, I guess. See you tomorrow?"

"I'll be here," He said, waving. "I'll be here."

Tony coached the team for the first time later that week. Dr. Barlow was overjoyed to find him so improved, and to be doing such "wonderful work" as she so enthusiastically put it. He had been getting decent sleep and eating substantial meals and seeing his friends all week, but only because he knew it'd get him out of this stupid program.

Tony kept her letter in his pocket at all times. He read it whenever he could, analyzing every work, the way her writing was so neat yet so feminine with a swoop here and an unncessecary curve there… He read it one day while lounging at his favorite coffee shop, and another time while in line at the grocery store. Reading it made him feel like she was there, beside him, grabbing at his arm to look over and see her again.

His days seemed to pass with the sad tune of a soft piano in the background, following him on the streets, pulling at him, narrating his heart. She had loved the piano. She had taken it as a girl, he remembered. And it had become a part of her. Sometimes he would watch her fingers tap on her desk, flowing with music that no one could hear but her. And there were those moments when she would get this far away look in her eye and almost smile, and then she would catch him watching her, and she would look away.

Oh, how he missed her. There was a time when they played the piano together.

"Do you remember when we were locked in that container and you told me you used to take piano lessons? Well, I think you should start again. I could teach you. Who knows, maybe it could be fun."

He had mentioned his previous experience with the piano, so many years ago. They had been locked in a shipping container with nothing to do but wait and try to figure out a way to get out. She had only been at NCIS for a few weeks, and they were just getting to know one another.

"Were you any good?"

"Yeah… I was,"

Then that summer, Gibbs quit, and he began coming to her house a few times a week. Sometimes she'd cook, sometimes they'd get pizza or Chinese. Sometimes they'd watch a movie, and then sometimes she taught him how to play the piano.

She had a black baby grand. It was a beautiful piano—elegant, perfectly tuned, thanks to Palmer… It was perfect for her. They started with reviewing the notes and the symbols, and simple nursery songs. He's protested to it at first, but he soon gave in. Soon they learned to play simple duets, and he learned more complicated songs, catching on quickly.

She was like that. Persuasive. Maybe it was due to her skills in interrogation, but maybe it was just because she was, well, Ziva.

Those days were perfect.

He hadn't played since that summer. It had stopped with Ziva was framed. Everything had changed. A few weeks later, Gibbs was back, and he was not longer the boss. He could deal with it—he loved working for Gibbs. But then there was Jeanne… He had started the mission that summer—first it was just "accidentally" bumping into her at her favorite coffee shop, then asking her to get a bite to eat, and then… It happened too fast. He didn't mean to fall in love with her. He didn't mean to leave Ziva. To lie to her. To the team.

And then it ended.

Every day since then, he wondered if things would be different if he hadn't taken the operation. Where he'd be with Ziva. He wondered if he would have ever taken that one step.

He lied to her, he kept it from her, and yet she stuck by him. She never left his side. Not even when Vance was sending blows towards him after Jenny died, she was beside him, taking them right along with him, voluntarily.

She was always there.

He owed her.

I think you should start again.

Maybe he would.