A/N: OHMYGOSHTHEPREMIERWASAMAZING. Did you get all that?

It was incredible, wasn't it? Completely perfect. It was different than I expected, but I adored each minute of it. All the cast and crew did an amazing job—I'm completely in love with it. Couldn't live without you, I guess. Awww! I cried. Yes. I'll admit it. But chances are, you did to, or were tempted to.

I'm sorry for not posting, but "it's better to seek forgiveness than ask permission", right? Okay, so maybe that only works for Gibbs. But in my defense, it's been a crazy week, and we've all been occupied with Truth or Consequences. And who is as stoked as I am for Tuesday's episode? A Tiva confrontation in the men's room again? Yes please!

Here's today's chapter. I had to break it short for a good reason, I promise, because the next chapter is a really great one, I think. This is the last chapter of angst, but we still have plenty left of story to work with, ok?

Alright, off you go. Don't forget to review!

An hour later, Ziva was walking back out of Vance's office, a myriad of files in her arms. She was headed towards the breakroom. Tony jumped out of his seat and ran to catch up with her.

"Hey, how'd it go?"

"Fine," Ziva replied, gaze fixed on the nearing wall.

"What'd he say?"

"To fill these out," she gestured towards the files.

"Eh," Tony cringed. "I didn't even have to go through that make paperwork when I joined NCIS,"

"You do not have such a complicated background, Tony," Ziva said quietly, finally meeting his eyes as they paused in the hallway.

He put a caring hand on her arm. "I'm sorry, Ziva," Ziva's eyes turned away and she began to walk again. Tony stood still in his place. "You going to keep doing this?"

Ziva spun around. "Doing what?"

"Freezing me out,"

"I am not freezing you out,"

"Then what do you call this?"

"I do not know, Tony," she said softly.

"Try and explain it," he said, his tone defeated.

"There are some things I cannot explain anymore, Tony,"

"Like what?"

"Why do you keep pressuring me?"

"Because you refuse to say a word. You've been in my place, Ziva. You should know how much it… sucks," he said. He couldn't tell her that it hurts. That would hurt.

"I am sorry, Tony. I just cannot do this," she said, turning away and walking into the breakroom.

And so he stood there, his loving heart aching.

It was those perfect films from the fifties that he hated the most. Oh, the style was fantastic—the men suave in their expensive suites, the women beautiful and appealing, smiles upon their faces. They were hilarious and creative, witty as ever. The music made him want to dance himself, but alone in his apartment, he smartly refrained.

It was the families that stopped him. The way the perfect families of one mother, one father, happily married, would bring their one daughter and one son, smiling as the sun, would take their children to the park, to the zoo, on a walk. It was the way they'd give each child a penny to throw into the fountain and make a wish. It was the skies he knew were blue and the flowers that were always groomed. It was the picturesque world where all their trouble could be confronted, where the good guys always won.

He just couldn't figure it out. This time, the good guys won, and yet he still lost. He had gained a new life through Ziva, despite the fact she was no longer there.

But when she came back, everything changed.

She was standoffish.

Quiet.

He hadn't gotten to see her much, what with the new cases, basketball practice, and the fact that she no longer worked for NCIS, at least, not yet. That was understandable. But when he did see her? Though his heart lit up like a brilliant aurora of lights, she, for some reason, did not.

Tony held on to that one moment. Dodging bullets and bombs and whatever else came their way, they ran out of that warehouse to safety.

That was the moment. The moment he held her. The moment he closed his eyes and whispered into the thick of the beautiful dark brown hair. The moment his heart was an opened flood of relief, of hope.

Of love.

Oh, he knew he loved her. He had known that for a long time now. Only when he held her close in his arms had it become real. Had she become real.

She told him she loved him. She had loved him a year ago, when things were good and she wrote that letter.

What happened?

What changed?

So tonight as he watched old reruns of I Love Lucy, he could only think of her.

Thanks for reading! Review, please? : )