Chapter 15 –

Ziva's first week at Baltimore PD went almost completely without a hitch. Tali caught the school bus to and from school, and by the time Ziva was home from work, she'd finished her homework and the two of them would watch movies (recommended by Tony, as he was quite the movie buff) or play games or just spend time together. Having that time was nice, and for both of them, made them appreciate the other more than they ever did.

At work, Ziva was confident and friendly and she picked up new tasks in an instant. Raimey and a lot of other guys in the office seemed to take a shine to her very quickly. Tony suspected that in the case of the men other than Raimey, it was for different reasons than her work, but even if she wasn't as beautiful as she was, she'd be able to charm these men. She just had a way with people.

On Tuesday afternoon they had a new case, and Danny, Tony and a few others were sent out to the scene of a murder downtown. As Tony hurried for the doors, grabbing his coat and trailing it behind him, Ziva smiled at him. This was the first time she'd been in the office without him or Danny, though, and it made her feel a little unsettled.

It was truly remarkable the way just him being there could calm her nerves. If she had gotten a job anywhere else she may not have done as well as she had this past week. Tony brought with him a certain sense of familiarity, and made her remember that sometimes strangers can be trusted. Years of doing what she did had taught her precisely the opposite. She tended to shy away from people she did not know, which was why she rarely saw anyone. She had learned to falsely believe that she had little to offer other than what she was paid to offer, and anyone who showed interest in her showed it only for those reasons. Of course, Tony broke that pattern, and God, she was thankful for that.

...

"It's five minutes to five," Tony said at 4:55 that Friday afternoon. He tapped his pencil against the edge of his desk and a grin spread across his face. "You know what that means? Huh?" He was directing his question at Danny, but his partner ignored his antics. Tony looked to Ziva hopefully, but she just shrugged and laughed. "People!" he exclaimed. "Five minutes to five means five minutes to the weekend! Which means we can all start relaxing, because we aren't booked tomorrow."

Tony reached for a bag of chips on his desk but Ziva snatched them off him, taking one for herself.

"Hey!" he whined.

"You've eaten almost all of them. It's not healthy," she told him.

"Do I need to bring out the muscles I have? The six-pack? The pecs? Or do you think you won't be able to resist me?"

She laughed loudly, quickly covering her mouth when she realised just how loudly, but it was a glorious sound to hear while it lasted.

The man whose desk was across from Tony's had called in sick, so Ziva happily took up residence leaning against it while the two of them (and Danny, sort of) counted down to the end of the day. When five o'clock hit, Tony threw his arms in the air like New Year's.

"I think we should celebrate!" he said to Ziva.

"Celebrate what?"

"Well, your first week here, for one," he suggested. "Plus, it's Sleep-In Saturday tomorrow. What's not to celebrate?"

"Actually, a few of the others are going out for drinks and they invited me to go with them. Bruce, and Kaitlyn and Robert, I think his name is."

"What about Tali?" he asked, suddenly solemn.

"She is staying at a friend's tonight."

"Oh," he said simply. "Well, I guess I'll see you 'round."

He looked disappointed, and she immediately felt guilty. She called out his name and he turned around, but she realised there was nothing she could say that would help the situation, so she just said, "Bye" and watched him leave. She felt bad. Quickly, she picked up the staff file from Raimey's desk and looked up Tony's address, scribbling it onto her palm. She decided she'd send him a pizza or something – to make up for the lack of 'celebration' on her part. Then she said goodbye to Danny and left.

...

The pizza box was sitting on his coffee table, empty, when there was a knock at the door. Tony frowned and paused his movie, which he'd stopped paying attention to, honestly. It was late and raining. There was only one person that would turn up at this hour, even if she'd never been before.

He opened the door to Ziva, none other. The pants and blouse he had seen her in hours earlier at work were soaked and her once perfect curls were dishevelled. Her nose and cheeks were red from the cold. Mascara marked her cheeks.

"Hey," he said, for lack of something better.

Her lips disappeared into a thin line and she rocked on her heels for a moment, as if hesitating to cross the threshold. "Hi," she said, her voice cracking. He squinted and studied her features carefully. The way she stood, the way her face moved. She stood straight upright with her heels militarily together, like a false conveyance of strength. Her jaw was tight but her lips trembled. Her eyes were red, too. She'd been crying.

"Ziva," he whispered, letting himself reach out and grab her hand, pulling her into the apartment. "What happened?"

"We were out at a bar, me and a bunch and of the others, and when they all left, one of the men asked me if I'd like to stay and if I'd let him buy me a drink."

"Which guy?"

"I don't remember," she admitted, shaking her head hopelessly. "He's tall, with dark hair and . . ." She swallowed. "That does not matter. I let him buy me a drink and then he said that he was sure he knew me from somewhere. And it clicked; I remembered him immediately. I asked him if he had a best friend named Dave and he said yes. He got married the year before last."

"He was a client?"

"Yes, he was. And he told me his apartment was around the corner, and asked if I would like a cup of coffee. So I said yes, and we got to the door and . . ."

"And?" he prompted.

Ziva stared at the floor. "He got out his wallet, Tony."

Tony felt his heart stop, he was sure of it. "Oh, Ziva."

"I do not do that," she told him. "I want you to know that. I do not sell myself for sex. Not since the beginning."

"It wouldn't matter if you did. You'd still have intrigued me the first time we'd met. You'd still have fallen on your ankle and I would've had to carry you up the stairs. I still would have helped you get that job at the PD."

"I know, but . . .after I left, I had the strangest feeling. Maybe that all I'm destined to do is dance for these men. The Universe seems to be telling me these things and it seems hard to argue."

"You don't have to do any of that, Ziva."

"But maybe it is what I am supposed to do, Tony. Maybe it is my purpose. Maybe I cannot be anything more than just that."

"You can be anything you want, Ziva. Don't try to convince yourself that you're any less amazing because one asshole ruined your night."

She sighed.

"Change is hard. I get it. Your old job was tough and demeaning but you were good. And it paid the bills. It gave you something constant. But I promise you're in a better place now, okay?" He held her forearms, and she nodded. That was what she had needed. That was the assurance that always made him feel better. "Come on, I'll put on a movie. We can watch it together. It'll calm you down."

"Actually, I think I will take a walk. I need to clear my head."

"In the rain?"

"A little rain never hurt anybody," she countered, with the slightest hint of hope in her voice. She went to leave, but he called after her, like she'd done at the office the other day. She turned around to face him and slowly he paced towards her. Something inside him made him move his fingers came to her chin and held it up gently as he pressed the softest possible kiss to her lips. He felt her sharp intake of breath. She reached for the bottom of his shirt for a split second but once she found it she pushed against his chest.

Their eyes were locked. Her hands were still against him.

"I have to go," she whispered, looking at him. "I'm sorry, I just . . .sorry."

She pulled away from him and he immediately felt the loss. She stepped through the doorway and looked back at him. Her eyes were teary again. He whispered her name but she closed the door with little more than the sound of the clicking of the handle as it shut and footsteps down the hall.

He wasn't angry with her, just confused. Because, for a second, he could have sworn she was kissing him back.