Chapter 27—
Ziva and Tony continued not exchanging words, in a process comprised of stubbornness and hurt and fear. Sometimes she would be caught looking at him and she may as well have said something, but she still did not. She could not. It did not feel right to. That process lasted nearly a month. Four straight, monotonous weeks. It was a good thing she liked her job independently of loving him, so she kept coming in every morning and putting up with it.
Tony struggled to keep himself in line. After all, he had spent far less time rationalising with his feelings than Ziva had. He had told himself he had nothing to lose in falling for Ziva, when in fact that had been a very, very false statement. Sure, she had Tali – a heartbreak was the last thing she needed. But him? He had nobody. He could fall in and out of love at his leisure. In theory, that is. Real life rarely words like that.
It was the 'out' of love that he was having the most trouble with. Ziva David was easy to fall for and difficult to forget, especially when she sat only a few feet away every day with her beautiful eyes and her chocolate curls and her perfect lips and that subtle touch of vanilla that seemed to follow her wherever she went. Habit had been surprisingly hard on him, and wanting to smile and stare and touch her was a desire that did not leave him alone no matter how many times their last argument replayed inside his head.
He had said some horrible things to her that night. He didn't know why, in retrospect. Maybe his heart was trying to defend itself. Maybe he thought the truth would shock her into thinking logically. Whatever the reason was, it no longer existed. He was not sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
The worst thing was the proximity. There was no clean break, if that was what she wanted. There was no getaway. She was always there. He wondered if she was aching as much as he was. He wondered if it was killing her not to say something or if her blood still boiled at the sight of him.
He knew he couldn't wish away that night – a confrontation like that had been inevitable. A fight can serve to strengthen or to fatally wound and unfortunately for them, it had been the latter.
...
One Wednesday, he was craving the gentle numbness of a strong drink, and he found it at a little, quiet bar he liked, not far from the precinct. He sat alone, on a high stool. The bartender filled his glass twice before somebody sat next to him. It was Danny.
"What do you want?" Tony sneered, his voice muffled by the glass curled around his lips.
"To talk," Danny said. "You're pissed."
"Really? Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Look, just let me explain – "
Tony wrapped his fingers around his glass and hurled it to the floor. The heads of the few people that were in the bar turned towards him as he grabbed Danny by the collar.
"Listen, you asshole, you and your big mouth cost me the best relationship I've ever had. You know how that makes me feel? 'Cause it's not great. At all. In fact, I hate it." The alcohol on his breath was strong by this point.
"I know I shouldn't have said it, I forgot how Ziva would have reacted," Danny replied, his mouth going a million miles an hour.
"Yeah, but that's not the point – what you told her wasn't yours to tell. And I'll thank you to keep your mouth shut all the time now. Don't talk to me. I'll liaise with the feds on this case."
Danny gulped. "And after that?"
Tony studied his partner's eyes. "We'll see."
He released the shorter man and everyone in the bar turned away. Danny placed a twenty on the counter, paying for his drink and the glass, and left.
...
After dawn the next morning, Tony left his apartment and parked his Mustang up the road from the station. He had one of those drive-thru coffees, and he held it in both hands to keep warm. He was across from Ziva's building, not watching, just sitting. He needed a minute. He was tired and hung over and today would be ultimately gruelling if he was not completely careful.
He had to spend all day with a throbbing head watching her be seemingly okay while he was suffering and wishing that she would just love him again, for the love of God. But even though he'd given her charity before, she had ended up owing him nothing. Not even her love. He could not demand that of her – not that he would want to. It was his only wish to have her love back, but only by her own free will.
His train of thought was broken by a tap tap tap on the window of his car. The brown eyes scared him, and for a moment he thought it was Ziva, but it was just Tali, on the way to school.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, looking happy despite her question.
"Just taking a moment before work," he replied, holding up his coffee.
"Have you talked to Ziva? She's really upset."
"She is?" Tony was intrigued.
"She's been all quiet and stressed and it's scaring me."
"She's your rock, huh?"
Tali nodded. "Can't you just send her flowers or something?"
He actually smiled at her. "I wish it were that simple, kiddo. I really do. But unfortunately for yours truly, Ziva knows very well that I am still very much in love with her. It's more what I did, not to her, but before I met her, that's upsetting her."
"So sending flowers would just be confirming something that she already knew?"
"Exactly. Plus, she'd think I didn't understand what was wrong – no, your sister is far too smart for flowers."
Tali paused for a moment, staring down at her shoes. "It sucks not having you around anymore."
"Same here, kid."
"Do you think . . ." Tali stopped talking and turned around. Ziva was approaching her. She was about to tell her off for talking to a stranger but then she realised whose car it was. Without speaking to Tony, Ziva held up a sandwich wrapped in cling wrap.
"You forgot your lunch," she explained. Tali took it and mumbled a 'thank you' before giving one last pleading look to Tony and heading off to the bus stop. Ziva swallowed, staring down at Tony, who looked straight ahead, through the open car window. "Are you going to get out of the car?"
Tony did not move. "I wasn't planning on it just yet."
"Okay," she replied, and walked cautiously around the back of the car and slid into the passenger's seat. "Would you tell me what Tali said? Is she alright?"
"Why wouldn't she be?" Tony asked, and he seemed willing to talk properly if there was a threat to Tali. He cared about her, too.
"Because, I think losing you may have been hard on her. She does not have many male figures around her, and you were important."
"I didn't abandon you, you know," he said, out of pure defence for himself. She had ended – she had to own that.
"I know you didn't." She wasn't angry. He had every right to be upset. They both did. "But still, I am worried."
"She's just as worried about you."
"Everything happened so quickly – I wish had considered her more. But . . . it would be wrong to change things between us for her sake."
"There's gotta be a better reason, then. Right? 'Cause I gotta tell you, Ziva, I really, really hate this."
"Me too," she admitted, staring downwards. "But I can't stop thinking about everything. What you said that night. Maybe I am afraid of my own feelings. And maybe that is why I reacted so badly."
"What do you mean?" His voice was soft and low, like he was afraid of tipping her.
"I mean I was just so scared of my feelings that the possibility of a flaw made me want to escape. Like, I saw a chance at heartbreak and was simply pre-empting all of that. I should not have done that to you. You did not deserve it." She reached over and touched his hand.
"For what it's worth," he replied slowly, his fingers trembling at her touch. "If it were anyone else I'd be crazy right now, but you could drive me off a cliff and I wouldn't stop loving you."
"Me neither," she said, looking at him, a bitter-sweet smile crossing her face. Her hand lifted to his cheek.
"I'm so sorry, Ziva. I really am."
"No, I am. To judge you on your past . . . I should never have done it. I know that man is gone. I fell in love with somebody knew, and he is still here, and he still loves me. And I am so lucky for that."
"Like the stars and the waves and the flowers?" he asked. He had asked her that on the first night they made love. From a quote from that French movie they watched together. She nodded, and he kissed her for the first time in a month, and he never wanted to let her go.