A/N: Again, another direct continuation from the last chapter. It's still Tuesday in the story, the afternoon. Ziva had her appointment with Devon in the morning. Also there might be a bit of a delay with the next chapter, I've got to figure out some details, make sure I haven't forgotten anything and add another scene. Hopefully Saturday :) Thanks for everything guys, enjoy! :) ~Aliyah
It took Ziva over two hours to gather enough courage to go into a dress shop she saw downtown. It was calm and peaceful and relaxing as soon as she walked in the door, everything she wasn't feeling inside. A girl she guessed to be a couple years younger than herself walked up and smiled, her nametag introducing her as Claire.
"Good afternoon," she said serenely, "can I help you find something?"
It seemed rather redundant to state that she was looking for a wedding dress when she was standing in a store filled with them, but Ziva didn't know what else to say. The lost look on her face must've garnered Claire's sympathy, because she gestured to a large, empty fitting room and once they were inside, closed the door for privacy.
"Do you know what you're looking for?" Brides came in all different shapes, sizes and temperaments and she could see that this one needed a little guidance.
Ziva blinked and it came to her with startling clarity how much she had truly changed over the last year. She was not the same woman she had been when she started at NCIS, or when she left it four years later. And Ziva felt unsettled because she really didn't know this woman that she'd become at all, even after six months.
She shook her head to clear the thoughts away and reached into her bag. "I brought pictures. These are the ones I was interested in." Ziva held the papers out to Claire but stopped, one hand falling to her rounded belly. "It is not what you think," she said softly.
Claire smiled gently. "And it is not my place to judge," she informed the woman. "Now, give me some details. When is your wedding date?"
"April twenty-first," Ziva answered.
"Wow, soon," Claire commented. "We might have to work some serious magic to get alterations done, but it's possible." She flipped through the pictures. "Tell me about your dream dress."
Ziva smoothed a hand over her hair, frustrated when she recognized another nervous habit she refused to pick up. She clasped her hands int front of her stomach. "I need ivory, not white," she said firmly. "I like this one." Ziva pointed to her favourite from the styles she'd looked at. "The wrap is nice, but it would need to be attached to the dress somehow." She shrugged self-consciously. "I am a federal agent and there is some...scarring on my back and shoulders that I wish to cover up."
Claire nodded, tapping one finger against her lips. "Okay, got it. Give me a few minutes and I'll see what I can come up with."
She left in a flash and Ziva was suddenly both glad to be alone and afraid of the thoughts that would find her without others around. Talking to Devon had been hard today, there was so much she hadn't wanted to say. Yet every time the therapist drew her out about something, her soul got that much lighter as burdens of fear, guilt, anger, blame, helplessness, loss, and pain were laid to rest.
Then Claire was back and she had no more time to dwell on the serious stuff. The girl had found four dresses that fit Ziva's general criteria and she did an admirable job of concealing her shock at the mess that had been made of Ziva's back. As she got into the first one, Ziva realized that Claire was the only other person besides Ducky and the doctor's who treated her, who had seen the damage inflicted upon her body.
"These dresses are several sizes too big - to accommodate your pregnancy," the girl explained. "I'm guessing you're usually a six?"
Ziva shrugged. "Maybe even smaller. I had lost some weight before..." She looked down at her bump and Claire understood.
"Well, no problem. I can still show you what it would look like with the alterations."
The first two dresses did not match the image in Ziva's head, but the moment she stepped into number three, Ziva knew. "This is it," she whispered and Claire beamed, adjusting the clips at the back to give a preview of the dress once it was adjusted to her specifications.
Claire turned her towards the mirror, completing the look with a couple pins in the wrap. "Congratulations," she said, "you look beautiful."
Ziva had to stop the tears from welling up when she looked at her reflection and saw not a victim or a survivor or an agent, but a bride. She wanted to image Tony's expression when he saw her for the first time, but knew it would look so much better in real life.
"Thank you," she told Claire.
The younger woman had an enraptured look on her face. "This is the most satisfying part of my job."
Together they admired the dress until finally Ziva was ready to be back in her own clothes. Claire helped her out, took some measurements and then glanced up from her notepad. "So Ziva, I'll just leave this with out seamstress and we'll do our best to have it ready before the twenty-first. Does that work?"
For some reason she couldn't explain, Ziva felt strange about that arrangement. "I do not know," she said slowly. "Perhaps I will just take the dress and measurements with me today. I might have a friend who can do the sewing." She shrugged. "I am uneasy about leaving anything to chance." Too much had already gone wrong, she didn't want to leave room for any other problems.
Claire stared at her for a minute and then found her voice again. "Oh, of course. I'll have the dress wrapped for you." She disappeared up to the front to give the price and details to the owner so Ziva could pay.
Olivia Owens, who looked every inch the classy, professional businesswoman she was, started to say hello to her customer, but the words died on her lips and she surveyed the woman before her with surprise. "I'm sorry, but you wouldn't be Ziva David, would you?" She made sure to pronounce the last name properly, as per instructions.
Ziva's eyes got a confused and slightly dangerous look in them. "Do I know you?" She was certain she had never met this lady before.
"No, it's just..." the owner shook her head and extended her hand. "Olivia Owens, this is my store. So you are Ziva?" she clarified. The dark haired woman nodded slowly and Olivia smiled. "Well, in that case you've just solved my newest mystery."
Ziva frowned. "I do not understand."
Olivia held up a piece of paper, a message that had been taken more than a week ago. "Last Monday a gentleman called here. He was rather gruff and very determined. He said his daughter was recently engaged and would likely start to look for a dress in a few days. He described you as beautiful, young and pregnant, with olive skin and dark hair and instructed me to make sure you were taken care of." Seeing that the reason hadn't quite dawned on her customer yet, Olivia smiled. "They left enough money to cover any dress you wanted."
Ziva's eyes widened in astonishment. "They? Do you have names?"
Olivia shook her head. "Just initials I'm afraid - JG and DM."
Awe fell over her - Gibbs and Ducky were paying for her dress, proving once again that family meant more than just words to these men she loved. "I do not know what to say," she managed at last.
"It's a gift Ms. David, just take it," the owner encouraged.
So Ziva did, and left the store minutes later carrying her wedding dress after thanking both Claire and Olivia for all their help. A short stop on the way to the pool let Ziva leave her dress with a trusted contact who promised it would be finished within the week. Spending years in Mossad still came in very handy at times, she knew people even her father and unit had no idea about.
Though she didn't stay very long in the water, it felt good to be doing something and she enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness being in the water provided. Back at home Ziva soaked in the tub until she was so relaxed that she ran the risk of falling asleep where she was. So, moving slowly, the tired woman got out, toweled dry, and found her way to the couch clothed in a comfortable long sleeved shirt and pants.
The addition of a light blanket made everything perfect and she didn't even last for fifteen minutes of The Notebook before dreamland called and she could not ignore it's pull any longer. The movie was still playing when Tony checked on her a couple hours later, deciding he'd go home and order Chinese before calling to wake her up. Ziva was just so peaceful when she slept lately that he had no desire to disturb her until absolutely necessary, even if it meant he got to see her sooner.
NCIS
They were nearly finished with dinner and the longer Ziva spent with him, the quieter she got. Finally, tired of being shut out, Tony leaned back in his chair. "So I was kinda hurt when I heard you were at work today and didn't even bother to stop in and say hi. Tired of me already?"
His words carried just an edge of frustration and jolted Ziva out of wherever she was inside her head. She sighed. "I was not at NCIS for social reasons Tony."
Her attempt at deflecting only made his gaze harden. "Well excuse me if I'd like to know that the woman I love doesn't want to be around me." He yanked their dishes off the table and stormed into the kitchen, dropping them in the sink with a loud clatter. "Geez Ziva, what happens Tuesdays that sends you so far away?" He was starting to see a pattern developing and he didn't like it one bit.
Ziva looked up from fiddling with her chopsticks and saw that the time had finally come to tell him. "I have a standing therapy appointment Tuesday mornings," she relayed quietly, and Tony's mood spun on its head in the time it took for him to return to his chair. Her fiance's open, apologetic expression encouraged her to continue.
"I made my first voluntary appointment during the last week of October, when I could not take the nightmares or handle not sleeping by myself anymore." Ziva's eyes fell to her lap. "It is the same doctor who did my initial psyche evals. Her name is Devon Andrews and as much as I hate being shrunk," she shrugged, "it is helping." Looking into his caring eyes again, Ziva gave him what she could. "But some days what we talk about is not easy and it is hard to pretend that I am okay."
Tony's expression exuded understanding and he reached for her hand, drawing his thumb lightly over her fingers. "So today was one of those rough days, huh?"
She nodded, though if he hadn't been paying close attention, he would've missed it, so small was the movement. "I am sorry Tony. Next time I will come to see you. I did not want anyone to know. Please do not be angry." Ziva used to be able to handle when they fought, when they were made at each other or disagreed and weren't speaking. But it was different now and she didn't want to be okay with tension between them.
"Gibbs knew," Tony stated quietly.
"Yes," Ziva agreed. "I had to have his permission to leave every week."
Tony stared at her for a minute then pulled his hand away and rested his head in his palms. "Sometimes this is really hard Zi." He blew out a breath. "I never thought about what came after loving you, and I don't regret it for a second." He made eye contact with her so she could see the truth. "I just...I just can't always pretend everything is alright either. And I can't help feeling like I'm going to lose you someday, somehow, because there's no way we're both allowed to be happy, to have things work out for once."
Ziva had to blink back tears at his admission. Of course it would not be easy, not after Somalia, but she had not often thought of the heavy burden Tony carried for choosing to be part of her healing. Without a word she stood up, took his hand, and led him to the couch. They settled with hardly any space between them, their fingers intertwining as if it was a reflex they could not help.
Tony lifted his knuckles to brush them down her cheek and leaned in, but Ziva put her palm flat on his chest, stopping him from getting closer. "Maybe we cannot always just kiss and make up. Maybe we have to talk about why it hurt in the first place."
He chuckled. "Actual honesty from both of us? That's a big step Zi."
Her look warned him not to joke about this. "We are to be married Tony, honestly should be automatic."
"Not likely with us," Tony declared bluntly. "But I'm willing if you are." Ziva's slight smile was his answer. "Okay, so why don't you want anyone to know about therapy?"
Ziva sighed. "I wanted to be strong enough to go through it on my own, to not need anyone's help. But I could not and I was embarrassed."
"Zi, you're not the only pers-" he tried, but a shake of her head cut him off.
"It is one thing to be told that needing others is not a weakness. But in my head it still goes against twenty years of training." Ziva shrugged. "American or not, what Mossad enforced is not an easy skin to shed." Tony got it, he did, but everything was going to take twice as long to accomplish if that was her mindset even now, six months home. Ziva nudged him when it seemed that she'd lost him to his thoughts. "Your turn. Why were you so upset that I did not come to say hello?"
His fingers traced her ring over and over. "Y'know, since we got you back I don't think there's been more than a couple days when I haven't seen you. I can take one look at you and tell your mood by your posture. Your eyes catalogue every emotion, every fear, every everything unless you intentionally shut me out. When I'm with you, all it right in my world and when I leave..." he took a breath. "When I leave there's a whole lot of room for bad thoughts in my head." Tony feathered his fingers through her hair. "You're not the only one with nightmares Zi and in mine, for a thousand different reasons, we never get to have forever."
Her eyes bored into his, sincerity shining in every fleck of her dark chocolate gaze. "In twenty-six days then Tony, there will be no more nightmares, because whenever you look I will be right by your side always." She kissed his knuckles. "Then maybe neither of us will have to worry about the bad thoughts any more."
Tony's voice was husky as he cupped her face. "So I'm not the only one keeping a countdown." His lips barely brushed hers before he looked at her again. "Are you ready for this?"
Even if the wedding was weeks away, there was still no backing out now. They had already shared each other's lives and invested so much of themselves, they couldn't be apart without ripping all the threads that bound them together. And neither could survive a break like that now, after everything else that had happened.
Ziva closed her eyes. "I am terrified of this commitment, of what it means to share one life with you and not two. But I am more terrified of being without you."
"I wouldn't go willingly," he promised, wiping at a tear with his thumb. "Nothing could ever make me choose to give you up."
Ziva let him bring her face close and felt the gentle but firm press of his lips on hers. She kissed him back slowly, wondering what it would be like to share frantic, hot kisses with him and touches that explored and brought pleasure, to not have to worry about what memories that kind of intimacy would bring up. But Tony didn't do anything to rush the moment and pulled away a few seconds later to rest his forehead on hers.
"It's really hard to just kiss you a couple times Zi," he confided, clearly fighting the want in his body for more. "But when I remember that I might never have gotten to kiss you ever," he breathed out and she felt it warm on her lips. "Well, then it just feels like the best gift ever."
"I love you," she whispered, "but please let me go." Ziva looked down. "If you asked for more now, I am afraid that I would not be able to say no."
Tony kissed her cheek. "Remember what I told you when I asked for one more night, the second time I kissed you?" She nodded, trembling under his touch. "Never," he repeated. "I will never ask for more than you are able to give me, even if it's months before we can work towards anything else. That's a promise Ziva." Then Tony cleared his throat and gave her one of his half grins. "But yeah, maybe going home is a good idea. I would hate for either of us to do something stupid."
The got up and moved to the entry so Ziva could get her coat and shoes. On her way out the door, Tony stopped her and brought her back to him, holding her closely for a minute and kissing her hair. "I love you. See you tomorrow?"
A glimmer of a smile appeared in her eyes even as the emotions of the day and evening still threatened to overwhelm her. "Tomorrow. Good night Tony."
He closed the door and leaned his back against it. Wishing the wedding was this weekend didn't make it so, but they would have to be more careful in the future. Being close to her was so easy and Tony struggled, wondering if one day he wouldn't be able to let her go. There were times he wasn't sure he could trust himself and he needed her to trust that he was telling the truth when he promised. Never.