"You are going to get tired of hearing the same things over and over," Ziva warned her therapist as Devon began her usual line of questioning.

"It's the only way to tell if something's changed," Devon countered, then raised an eyebrow. "Rumour has it that Gibbs' MCRT had an interesting day last week."

Ziva closed her eyes and brought her hands up to her mouth. "Yes, I do not know if I have ever been more afraid. When he walked in the door..." she shook her head. "I did not want to let go. And then he held Chaya for hours, he would not put her down." Ziva sighed. "Tony was so quiet and so sad, it does not make a good place inside your head when you know how close you came to dying." She looked down at her rings. "Then at bedtime it hit me and I needed him close, to feel his touch. I did not want him to stop kissing me, but I was afraid of what would happen if he did not."

"Did you want to have sex with Tony at that point?" the doctor asked, blunt as usual.

Ziva swallowed. "I wished very much that I was brave enough to allow him the comfort of my body, yes."

"That's progress."

"No," the other woman shook her head slowly. "Progress will be when I actually can, instead of just wishing it."

"You've got to give him more freedom sometime Ziva, otherwise we'll never know what your worst triggers are and how to work through them," Devon pointed out.

Ziva nodded, thinking about yesterday and how she had dressed for the weather but more to see what kind of reaction she could get from her husband. He had not disappointed. "I will think about it."

Devon would take what she could get. "What else is new?"

Glancing towards her baby, Ziva smiled. "Chaya is sleeping through the night, seven hours." She sat back. "It is amazing to feel rested again, I almost forgot what that was like. The energy I have now compared to a few weeks ago is a nice surprise."

"That's exciting," Devon grinned, "and just in time too. Back to work Monday, right?"

Ziva's eyes shadowed. "Yes. And it is coming too quickly. As much as I have looked forward to returning to my team, much has changed. I am a mother now, a wife, not just an assassin or an investigator." She ran her teeth over her lip. "I worry about how these new realities will affect the way I approach my job."

"It might take awhile," Devon agreed, "but I think you'll eventually find a balance. It's going to be hard to juggle both, a struggle to leave your daughter in the care of others, but this is everything you've worked for are you ready?"

The Israeli woman looked down at her hands, then back up. "No, but I will be."

At the end of the session, Devon set everything aside and leaned forward. "Ziva, I've made a decision. You've been coming to see me for over six months now. The progress you've made from those first visits to now is incredible and more than anything I want to see that continue, but I also want to step back enough to see if I've given you the skills to deal with things on your own. So today will be your last once a week appointment, after this I'll want you to come back every other week instead."

Ziva's brow furrowed and Devon hastened to add more. "Not to say that if you need me I won't be here and I'll stagger your therapy and the couple's sessions so that there will be a Wednesday afternoon appointment available every other week if you need to talk. I think you can do this and I want you to show me."

The announcement came as a shock, Ziva hadn't expected it. "That will change things, will it not?"

"Change isn't always a bad thing Ziva, give it a chance and see what happens."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded her acceptance, but in her heart she was not as confident of her ability to handle things on her own.

NCIS

Later that night Ziva arrived at Gibbs' house, a little unsure of what she would do if he had company. But when she peeked in the basement, it was only the lone silver haired man working on his boat. He glanced up, his expression unreadable as always. "You runnin' again?" Ziva shook her head and he stared at her for a minute. "Well don't just stand there, come down and help."

Walking slowly downstairs with Chaya's carseat, Ziva set the baby by Gibbs' workbench and picked up a sanding block, moving to where he pointed. The older man took a break to crouch down and watch his granddaughter sleep while he waited for Ziva to talk. It took several minutes before she stopped and ran her fingers over the smooth wood, sighing.

"After today I will only have therapy every other week." Ziva dropped her eyes to his, fiddling with the sandpaper. "I have been going so long I am unsure of what to do without it. There was a time when I did not need anyone, now that is hard to remember."

Gibbs stroked Chaya's hand and stared at her mother. "You need to learn to trust yourself again Ziver. I think a break will be good for you, show you that you can handle things, maybe make you see how far you've come since September."

Ziva looked down at the floor, her eyes falling on the faded stain from her brother's blood that had never been completely washed away. "So often it feels like I am moving backwards, perhaps there is no end, no way to ever be normal again."

Gibbs shrugged. "Normal is overrated, you need to make your own and decide what that's going to be."

Ziva frowned. "Do you always have an answer for everything?"

"Just helping you see what's already there."

She checked her watch. "It is almost time for her last feeding, I should go."

Gibbs moved in front of her, propping his hands on her shoulders. "Don't give up Ziva, you're going to find yourself again, I promise."

Ziva didn't look convinced. "I hope that is one you can keep." She sighed and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight Gibbs."

He watched her walk up the stairs, baby seat in hand, and rubbed his face. Gibbs knew she was still in there somewhere, that there had to be a way to get her back. Unfortunately, it was something no one could do for her. Ziva would have to fight that battle herself, with all of them around to cheer her on.

NCIS

It was a good thing that Gibbs thought to call him when Ziva left, otherwise the surprise could've easily been ruined. As it was, McGee had just left when she pulled into the drive. Tony met her at the door with a grin and a kiss, both of which were hardly returned.

She was quiet and Chaya lay awake in her seat, sucking on her fingers, so he got her out and headed upstairs. Ziva settled in the rocking chair to nurse and Tony got a beginner's book - A Fish Out of Water, reading it to his daughter but keeping a close eye on his wife the whole time.

He followed her into their room after Chaya was changed and in her crib and sat on the bed waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. Leaning back on his hands, Tony looked at her. "Going to tell me?"

She reached for the covers on her side, avoiding his eyes. "What?"

He rolled his eyes. "We both know no one goes to Gibbs' house for the cheery atmosphere, there's always a reason."

Ziva sighed. "I am tired Tony, there is a lot in my head tonight. I do not want to talk, I just want to go to sleep."

Tony moved to lay behind her, his fingers idly wandering through her messy curls. "I know you're tired honey, but maybe you need to share some of the stuff in your head. It only gets worse if you don't talk about it."

She shook her head. "It is nothing Tony, do not worry."

Which of course was the easiest way to get him to worry.

NCIS

But whatever distance he'd sensed her putting between them in the night was gone by the time the sun rose when she kissed him before she got out of bed to feed Chaya and go for a jog. She came back after more than twice the time it would take her to run the little she was supposed to be doing while she was still taking it easy, but just like any other morning Ziva stole a sip of his coffee, teased him with a kiss and a look and went upstairs for a shower.

Tony hated having to leave without talking to her but Gibbs was the scarier of the two these days, so he put it behind him and went to work. A text sent around lunch time just to say 'I love you' put a grin on his face for the rest of the day and no one was surprised by the speed with which he exited the building as soon as Gibbs released them to go home.

When she fell asleep in his arms that night, whispering that finding herself now was harder than she thought, he knew where her thoughts had been before and forgave her for shutting him out by cuddling closer to kiss the skin behind her ear and share her pillow, feeling the soft rise and fall of her chest against his arm that proclaimed all was right in their little world.

NCIS

So far Gibbs was doing a very good job with her birthday. It started with a phone call that woke her up, then an unexpected appearance so he could deliver a perfectly creamed and sugared coffee and kiss her before he went to work. And just now a bouquet of lilacs and forget-me-nots, her favourite flowers with a message.

Celeste held the purple blooms to her nose and breathed in the best scent in the whole world. She couldn't help but smile as she took them to the kitchen and put them in water, the man knew how to be sweet. When she checked her mail in early afternoon, Celeste found a card from Jenna, a black envelope with silvery writing from Abby - the biggest surprise - and a formal invitation requesting her presence at her ex-husband's house for dinner.

Dressing to make an impression in a skirt, blouse and the necklace he'd given her for their first anniversary, Celeste applied make-up, dabbed on a bit of perfume and walked leisurely down the street to knock on his door. "Wow," Gibbs smiled when he came to let her in, "you look great." He closed the door and kissed her cheek. "Happy Birthday Les."

She followed him into the kitchen. "You've been saying that all day in different ways, I had no idea you were so good at surprises."

"More to come," her winked, escorting her to the table and pulling out her chair. There was a wrapped package sitting by her plate and Celeste's eyes gleamed but Gibbs' glare warned her away. "You have to wait."

She made a face at him. "Tease."

"It'll be worth your patience," he promised. "Supper is almost ready."

To Celeste's amazement, the food he served did not include steak, but rather homemade soup and salsa chicken with peas and salad. She raised an eyebrow. "You can make real food."

"Don't sound so skeptical," he grumbled. "I've been married enough times to pick up a few things." Gibbs poured her a glass of wine and one for himself, then sat down around the corner from her. "Dig in."

Celeste did, feeling incredibly special for all the work he'd gone to. When it came time for dessert, she was instructed to close her eyes while he got it. Gibbs set the plate in front of her. "Okay."

She looked and her expression softened. "You got me ice cream cake."

"Blow out your candle." Celeste pursed her lips and snuffed out the flickering light, closing her eyes for a moment. "What did you wish for?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. "You know I can't tell you, then it might not come true."

Gibbs kissed the back of her hand. "I know what mine is."

She took a bite, savouring the cold sweetness on her tongue. "You're spoiling me Jethro."

"You're my-mine to spoil now," Gibbs corrected himself, almost saying something not yet true. Celeste's small smile understood and let him gloss over it for now. They held hands through dessert and curled up don the couch after to watch a movie. Celeste recognized the music instantly and turned to Gibbs with shock in her eyes.

"We're watching Titanic?"

He sighed. "It is your birthday."

Her expression grew infinitely tender. "You don't like it."

"Love you," Gibbs said firmly.

Celeste cuddled close to him. "Thank you."

Gibbs kissed her hair. "Kiss me? It'll get me through."

She leaned up to push her lips gently into his. "As often as you want."

He tightened his hand on her hip. "Be careful what you promise."

Celeste met his eyes. "No regrets Jethro, not this time. I want this." Her fingers slid through his and she got comfortable. "You don't need an excuse to hold me, you know," she informed him a minute later.

"I'll take it," Gibbs said gruffly and the way she smiled, the feel of her in his arms, the intoxication of her kiss was worth three hours watching a ship sink. She wasn't going anywhere and nothing had made him feel so right in a really long time.

NCIS

When the credits finally rolled and Celeste stood to stretch, Gibbs went to the kitchen and returned carrying the wrapped package. Her eyes twinkled. "I almost forgot."

"Can't leave without your present," he replied, holding it out.

Celeste looked up. "I would've been happy with the flowers."

Gibbs shrugged. "Wanted you to have more."

She smiled and peeled back the paper, gasping in delight when she realized what she held. "Tim's new book. I didn't even know it was finished. Is it out?"

"Advance copy," Gibbs admitted, nudging the cover. "Look inside."

Celeste did and her lips curved upwards. For Celeste Casey, whose work I admire. I'm glad you came back. Your friend, Thom E. Gemcity.

"Looks like you've got one vote at least," he said, reading the words upside down.

"Maybe even three, with Ziva, and Tony if he's choosing sides. But it's Abby's vote I need."

"It'll come Les," Gibbs assured her, though his own confidence wavered. Abby had not been pleased when he confronted her about the impromptu interrogation she and Tony had staged. And even though their Monday nights were helping, Abby still refused to discuss anything related to Celeste.

Celeste ran her fingers over the raised letters on the shiny dust jacket. "She may already be on her way." Meeting his eyes, she shook her head in slow bewilderment. "I got a card from her today." Celeste bit her lip. "I've been afraid to open it."

"Have it with you?" She nodded and pulled the black envelope out of her clutch, studying it for a moment before she handed it to him. Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Coward."

Celeste snorted. "With good reason." She sighed and crossed her arms. "Just get it over with Jethro."

Gibbs got his knife and slid it along the sealed flap. The card was black and sparkly, decorated with birthday bats wearing party hats, leaving him to wonder yet again exactly where Abby found Goth greeting cards. Opening it, his eyes skimmed the words and then he read it again while Celeste chewed on her lip.

"Think you're going to want to see this Les." He gave the card back and Celeste's eyes hesitantly read what was written inside.

Dear Celeste, Timmy heard it was your birthday. Happy Birthday! Gibbs doesn't make great cake, but he's very good at birthdays. He's never forgotten mine and if he can remember both of ours, then I guess maybe he's got room for one more person. I don't hate you. ~Abby Scuito-McGee

The last words were underlined and Celeste looked up at her ex-husband. "It's a start."

Gibbs stared at her. "Abby called you for Ziva, she trusted you with her friend. I'd say she's well on her way. And that's as close to a peace offering as you're ever going to get."

Celeste swallowed and wrapped her arms around him. "When we decided to start this, I never thought about how intimidating your kids would be. But I'm not sorry."

Gibbs' lips brushed her temple. "You'll be fine Les, just be yourself. How could they not love you?"

Her mouth meeting his became her response and he stood in the livingroom kissing her softly for several minutes, but finally pulled back to see her. "That book won't be an easy read. Tim's telling a hard story."

Celeste picked the thick volume up and nodded. "I think I need to know what happened to the team last summer Jethro, what you all went through."

"Remember that he couldn't tell it exactly right, but he did a good job reflecting how it changed us."

Celeste raised an eyebrow. "Did you read my birthday present?"

He shrugged. "Flipped through it, wanted to see what kinda story he decided to write. You'll need tea."

"I'll keep that in mind." She checked her watch. "It's getting late Jethro, walk me home?"

Gibbs held out his arm. "My pleasure."

Celeste gathered her things and smiled. "Abby was right, you're really good at birthdays."

Gibbs closed his eyes as the phrase echoed in his head, sounding suspiciously like an eight year old's voice. He hadn't heard those words in eighteen years.