A/N: And here's number four!

(~~~)

We're getting there. Getting closer to you-know-what.

Sometimes, Tony likes to pretend this is a movie, and everything ends up with all of that shiny-happy, everyone walking away into the sunset, amicacable parting shit.

Would've been nice.

Tony feels cheated a lot of the time. He was the one hurt, yet he wasn't. The other one who got hurt, his injuries get a whole lot worse in Tony's nightmares, and he certainly doesn't feel deserving of the soothing hands that wake him up.

Who he expected to be there, isn't. And who he didn't expect to, is.

Final hour. Countdown begins now.

(~~~)

"Aba!"

Damn, Ziva's voice could cut through anything. Tony winced. Third converation this week.

Although for the life of him, he couldn't quite remember what they were discussing.

Nor, apparently, did it occur to Tony to ask. (He said he wasn't proud of it).

Things would have been easy to blame on Shayla. His schedule at the gym was strictly regimented. His diet was carefully controlled by his loving girlfriend. And his sex schedule was right on track. Life should have been great.

Only it wasn't.

Only recently, the overwhelming sense of helplessness that used to grip Tony only occasionally, now gripped him at any given moment.

The whole team (minus Ziva, but she had always had a weird problem with the women he dated) loved Shayla, welcoming her into their pseudo-family with open arms. Ducky had invited Shayla over for dinner at his house, and she had obliged last week. Gibbs had blessed her with one of his half-smiles. McSmitten had given her one of his sappy puppy looks and followed her around on every visit. Shayla took a genuine interest in all of them, calling out to all of them on every visit, and had even attempted to make peace with Ziva, before Tony briefed her on how futile it was.

Damn, could she be more perfect?

It was a Sunday night, and Tony was cleaning the apartment in preparation for Shayla's return from her mother's tomorrow night.

Not useless at cleaning, not that he took that little comment to heart.

To say he was surprised at the knock on the door would be an understatement. (He certainly won`t tell you how his stomach sank a little at the thought that it could be Shayla, not that it even made sense to him. She was too good to him.)

Not as surprised though, as he was to find one Ziva David, The Princess Bride and Thai food in hand, and a nervous smile on her face.

For long moments, he just stared, until she finally offered:

"You have long said that it is unusual of me to have not seen this. Not to "girl-flicky", I hope?"

Warmth spread through his chest, and a small smile broke out over his face.

"It's chick-flick, Zee-vah, and it is weird on so many levels. Get in here."

And the smile on her face was well worth the cursory check of the halls he did after he left.

(~~~)

Things were better than Tony could believe the next day. He dared to hope that a movie night was all it would take to repair he and Ziva's strained relationship (yeah, famous last words, Tony knows).

Still, for one glorious day, Shayla was not on him about his diet or the gym, he flirted playfully with his partner, and they even caught a particularly notorious criminal with a pechant for killing navy officers.

Yep, all in all, the DiNozzo man had a pretty good day.

Well, unless you count the tremors.

And the lightheadedness, but that was just because of the diet.

But really, who counted that? For now, life was good. And Anthony DiNozzo had the women in his life to thank for it.

"Hear you and Ziva had fun last night," McProbie's voice broke through Tony's trance. His head snapped up.

"What was that, Probie?"

McGee shrugged. "Ziva told me you guys had one of your movie nights again last night. First time in awhile."

A small smile broke out on Tony's face. "Yep. One night with Ziva, the next with my woman."

"Well, I just hope Shayla doesn't mind leftover Thai for dinner tonight. Hope Ziva left her a note or something."

Tony jumped over to McGee. "What are you talking about, McCrazy? I'm not telling her Ziva was over."

The junior agent's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

"Well, because...because...she wouldn't like that."

"Why? Why would she care, nothing's going on between you and Ziva."

"No, but..." A memory came to Tony's mind, unbidden. That had been a particularly bad night. Shayla had heard that Tony had gone to dinner with Ziva, and upon hearing this, had promptly locked him out of the house. Tony had spent the night in his car, throroughly confused and more than a little pissed. By the time she opened the door the next morning, ready to give her what-for, she had laid into him with a speech of was he really suprised that she had a problem with his attractive partner showing up late at night and spending the night on the couch with him?

It made sense, he had to admit. But then she had raised her hand quickly to his face, and Tony had flinched away despite himself. Instead of the look of horror he would have expected to see on her face, she actually looked satisfied, stroking his cheek.

"My Tony," she had sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

So no, he was not going to tell Shayla that his partner had come over, particularly not that she had come over late at night when she was away.

But what did that say about his relationship?

(~~~)

That thought weighed on Tony more than he cared to admit, so when he saw Ziva striding into work, looking better than usual in her bright blue coat (she had an arsenal of coats, each of which looked better on her than the next. What? He wasn't blind), the hurt look on her face when he didn't even say hello made his stomach drop.

(~~)

Another day, another loud Hebrew conversation. Tony had successfully lied to Shayla about the excess Thai food (you were the one that said I couldn't cook to save my life), and all was good.

Except Ziva was still giving her version of the hurt-puppy looks across the room, and they still made Tony's stomach clench.

She values her relationship with you more than many others, Anthony, Ducky's voice said in his head. And you are taking that one stable relationship away from her. You are doing nothing for her.

Nothing for her? Tony repeated to himself. That wasn't right. She deserved something from him, at least.

And with that in mind, he strode up to her desk, where she was - he guessed the polite term would be reasoning - with her father, and grabbed the phone from her.

"Eli? Tony DiNozzo here. Just going to break this down for you: your daughter hates you. I know that may shock you but sending her on a suicide mission to the middle of nowhere doesn't exactly show how much you care. Now leave her the hell alone, or there won't be enough bodyguards in the world to protect you from who I send. Lose this number or lose your life. Caio."

With a flourish, he hung the phone up.

Well, in hindsight, it had seemed like a good idea.

Only the look on Ziva's face spelled his imminent death, and once again, Anthony DiNozzo could not win with the world.