A/N: Hey guys. Loved the positive response on the last chapter—thanks so much!

Here's today's chapter. I love the beginning a lot—I think it's a sweet scene, if I do say so myself. But the end? Oh, this is where it gets exciting. We'll hope back on for some action and investigation, of course endowed with a proper amount of Tiva, seeing as it is a Tiva-fic.

So yep.

Stoked for Tuesday's episode! Looks like it'll be awesome.

Enjoy!

A few days passed and with each day, Tony tried a little to get her back, grabbing an extra candy bar from the vending machine or fixing her stapler, hoping the small gesutes would help to make her see. But despite his efforts, she still seemed slightly distant, not completely there. She would look at him and stare at him for a moment, eyes different than usual, then look away almost sadly, as if resigning herself to hopelessness.

Today, the team was finishing more paperwork from another case that had to be re-reviewed, much to Gibbs' dismay. They were just finishing when Tony grabbed his things and began to walk out, finished with his work.

"Hot date?" Ziva asked as he walked by, not looking at him.

"No, not quite," Tony stopped. He thought for a moment. "You should come and see,"

"I do not know, Tony, I--"

"Go, Ziva," Gibbs said from his desk, not looking at her, but continuing his gaze at the files before him.

"Gibbs, I--"

"Go," he insisted.

"Alright, alright," Ziva said, gathering her things quickly.

"Follow me," Tony said when they got to the parking lot. She followed him in her car out of the downtown area, confused, to a park near his home. She parked near him and jogged to catch up with him.

"What are we doing here?"

Tony gestured to the boys playing basketball at the courts twenty yards away. "Basketball practice,"

"Basketball practice?" Ziva repeated.

"Hey guys!" Tony called out to the team. They ran to meet him.

"Coach!" one called.

"Coach?" Ziva asked.

Tony shrugged with a smile, but didn't answer her. "You guys ready to practice? Okay, each of you, take a free throw then I want one lap around the court and then get in back of the line,"

Practice went as so, Ziva sitting on the shade of sidelines, watching in wonder at the man who was once a boy leading the team in practice, surprisingly well.

"Okay, Jared, switch out with Cody," Tony instructed.

Jared did as so, taking a seat near Ziva. He looked at her curiously and then held out his hand confidently. "I'm Jared,"

Ziva took it with a smile. "Ziva,"

"You're Ziva?" Jared repeated, a confused look running through his too-solemn eyes.

"Yes," she replied slowly.

"You're Tony's partner?"

"Yes, I am,"

"I thought you were dead,"

"Everyone did," she said quietly.

"Even Tony,"

"Yes, even Tony," she confirmed, looking over at the team's coach, grinning as he congratulated one of the boys.

"He was depressed for a long time, I think," Jared said thoughtfully.

"Was he?" she said softly.

Jared nodded. "He really missed you. I think he thought it was his fault,"

"It wasn't,"

"You should tell him. He said you guys used to be really tight,"

"We were," she replied, a faraway look in her eyes.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," she said, looking down for a moment.

"He said he thought you'd be proud of him,"

"Why?" she looked at him.

"Because he was doing something with his life,"

Ziva looked over at Tony who was high-fiving one of the boys, a huge smile upon his face, eyes shining. "How do you think he's been doing since he started coaching you guys?" she asked.

"Better,"

"Only better?"

"Well, you weren't there," Jared said, and for a moment, they were silent. It was then that Tony called him back out to the game, and Ziva was left to her thoughts as she watched the man she had fallen in love with.

The sky had grown soft with time, as had her heart. Everything she wrote in that letter, she meant. NCIS changed her. The team changed her.

He changed her. He inspired her to live, to move on from her black memories and find a new life. She had hoped that perhaps, the rest of it might be spent with him. Ziva wasn't sure what kept her from telling him. She wasn't afraid of commitment as he had been. She wasn't afraid of Gibbs and his rules or Vance's likely dismay. She wasn't afraid of her father or Mossad…

It was the fear that someday, that the moment she took that step, he would be gone.

An hour later, practice was over and the team went home, leaving Ziva and the coach alone at the park, basking in what was left of the light. They walked silently, somehow making their way to the swings. They each sat on one, side by side, and didn't swing at all. They merely sat there, lost in their own little worlds.

"I'm glad you're back," Tony said finally, staring out straight in front of him, eyes serious. He hesitated. "Are you?"

"I am glad to be here," she answered slowly.

"But?" Tony prompeted. Ziva almost felt the urge to laugh. He was always able to tell. No matter how hard she tried, he was always able to see through her.

"It is not the same,"

"I know," he said quietly, though his stoic expression didn't move. She looked away, not seeing the gaze in his eyes that followed her sweet face.

Ziva couldn't sleep. Usually she could fall asleep easily in her Silver Springs apartment, quiet and still surrounding her. Tonight, despite the tiredness she felt and the silent darkness about, she couldn't. Finally in a frustrated sigh, she got up out of bed and pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and began to walk. The cold air of DC echoed her loneliness. The crossed her arms tightly and continued to walk, shutting out the memories that begged to come in.

The neon lights of a 24/7 convenience store shone from across the street. She walked in mindlessly, hoping only to escape the cold that she had grown a little more sensitive to in the past year.

For a few minutes she roamed the aisles without thought, finally coming across a long row of magazines and newspapers. She scanned the covers, finding the people inside to be shallow and naive. Most seemed to be several months old, but she wasn't surprised—this place was notoroiously run down and out of place.

A newspaper caught her eye and she nearly jumped back in shock. She picked it up and thumbed the familiar face on the front. It was

"Tony?" she whispered to herself, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Making History, Saving History" the block print read. Above was a half-age size photo of Tony, face marked with soot as he stood with Gibbs and what appeared to be Fornell, talking behind a curtain of bright yellow of what could only be flames. She grabbed the paper and ran to the cashier.

"How much for this?"

The cashier eyed it. "It's old, lady. You can have it for ten cents,"

Ziva dug inside the pocket of her jeans, overjoyed to find a dime. She payed for the paper and walked outside, slipping down the side of the wall. She opened the paper and began to read.

Ziva shook her head as an angry tear slipped down her cheek.

Ziva stood outside his apartment undecidedly. She had been pacing for several minutes, unsure of whether to confront him about the things she read in the article.

It has been confirmed that the "savior" is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, or NCIS. He humbly shared this only comment: "I did what I had to do." NCIS declined to comment, as did the other investigators at the scene…

"I did what I had to do." Familiar words.

Humble? Not the word anyone had ever used to describe Tony. Ziva thought back to earlier that day at the game, back to the last months. The article was right.

He had grown to be… like Gibbs.

Suddenly the door opened and it took all of her strength not to jump back. "Ziva?" Tony said. He was dressed in sweats and an old OSU t-shirt. He didn't look like he had been sleeping, despite the tired look in his eyes.

"Hi," Ziva said after a moment.

"Hey… what are you doing here?"

Ziva gave him an apologetic half-smile and turned to leave. "Sorry, I should be going,"

"No, don't," he said, stepping out of the threshold part-way. "Not yet," he said, his voice now softer. He glanced at the newspaper in her hands that she had been wringing to a pulp. "What's that?"

Ziva shrugged and reluctantly handed it to him. "I just found it," she admitted, suddenly feeling as if she was invading his privacy.

He uncurled it and looked at the front page article. "Oh," was all he said.

"I uh… You didn't mention it," Ziva finally said.

"No, I didn't," he said. He remembered Morocco. She didn't tell him about that either. She looked at him undecidedly and for a moment, they shared a gaze, his eyes serious. Once again, she began to walk away.

It was then that his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his cell phone and Ziva began to walk away.

"Good morning, Special Agent DiNozzo," a voice sounded over the speaker, familiar and creepy, the kind that made chills run up and down one's spine, though disguised with some sort of device.

Tony covered the speaker with his hand. "Zee-vah!" he called quietly and she turned around, brow furrowed. He motioned toward the phone. She met up with him as he answered. "Yeah?"

"Miss me?"

Cliffhanger. :) Who do you think it is? Don't forget to review!