A/N: You guys are such wonderful reviewers! This was one of my favorite chapters to write, it was so much fun, and I hope you guys enjoy reading it!

Also, I've gotten a couple messages about signing a petition to keep Cote on NCIS. I did sign it, and would put a link in here if Fanfiction would let me.

However I suspect this was decided long ago and there are circumstances behind it we probably don't know the details on. But we will always have eight seasons of our beloved Ziva!

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Wow, this would be the perfect time for romance, wouldn't it?

Clearly, nobody would be straining their brains to concoct a scenario for Tony. Psycho ex-girlfriend unable to stay at his own home, flinches whenever someone touches him, and staying with his beautiful partner.

Yep, sure seems like ideal breeding ground for romance (ha), don't it?

Yeah, not that easy. He moved in on a Tuesday.

Wednesday

The first day was mostly Tony trying to pick up the shattered pieces of his dignity (guy can dream can't he?) and futilely trying to figure out where he stood with Ziva.

Gibbs, in his typical gruff manner, had informed Tony that they had found no evidence of mercury or any other poison in the residence, so while they were still actively investigating Shayla, unless he had actually seen her putting the stuff in his food, they couldn't hold her for the time being.

And Tony is a man, despite what she had said, but he couldn't bring himself to go back home, not yet.

They settled on him sleeping on the couch, and Ziva sleeping in her own bed.

He totally didn't wake up screaming so loudly that for the rest of the night he found himself occupying Ziva's bed anyway.

Friday

He was still "recovering" from the whole poisoning thing, and Vance had insisted he not come into work. So there he was, hanging around the house all day.

Turns out, watching Die Hard twice to compensate for not having Die Hard 2? Not as much fun as you might think.

Sunday

Shayla had skipped town as they were investigating her. Kind of put a damper on his newly adopted "new week, new leaf" philosophy.

Thursday

Movie night. Dangerous Liaisons and Ziva fell asleep with her head in his lap.

Saturday

The days fell more into a routine. Tony was starting to get pretty comfortable, while Vance headed up the investigation.

Tony still itched to return to work (he hadn't had the chance to come up with a few McNames in far too long – his McProbie wit must be atrophying) and his DVD collection was unavailable as it was currently back at – well, he wasn't going there.

Remember what Tony told you about the romance? It was freaking Saturday night, and dammit, Tony would take a pretty girl out on a date if it killed him (very real possibility, but who was he to dwell on negativity?).

It took more than a little convincing for Ziva to actually go out and have fun, but mission eventually accomplished.

And Tony so enjoyed watching Ziva shake to every song, laughing, that it really didn't matter that he managed to make it out for two hours. Or that the bar they ended at was a whimsically named joint called Bucky's Country Roundup.

Monday

Vance was a persistent bastard, Tony had to admit. May even rival Gibbs himself.

Shayla had pulled a freaking Amelia Earhart, but he still had every agent searching every crook and nanny, and his – her apartment was combed so that Tony was pretty sure the cockroach family in the leftmost crook in his bathroom was busted.

And wipe those thoughts from your head. Tony was not scared of Shayla. How could he be? It was his fault, anyway. His fault that he ended up in the hospital. His fault he couldn't work. His fault his team was affected. This humiliation that pressed down on him every minute was well-deserved.

So he was not scared of Shayla. His joints (which were beyond his control) would just shake uncontrollably on their own whenever he heard of her, talked about her or thought about her. In what universe did that count as fear?

Thursday

Second base. Accidental. He slipped.

Friday

Tony modeled a fresh new bruise on his arm. Never ceased to amaze how hard a punch that tiny little woman packed.

Sunday

Dinner with the team, only slightly awkward now. Then Supernatural reruns, covering Ziva's eyes as she "googled" the older brother. She slapped his hands away and laughed, and Tony could only marvel in the fact that he was being hit by a woman and never flinched.

Tuesday

Tony really needed to go back to work. Thoughts wandered when one was alone, and as it turned out, they weren't exactly bolstering thoughts. He just needed a good murder case. Was that really so much to ask?

(Don't worry, he does look back on that particular thought with regret)

Thursday

Tony lived for Ziva's return from work. They had settled into a routine as he slowly recuperated, even kept sleeping in the same bed. He'd pump her for details about the case as soon as she got home, they'd eat dinner (Tony was convinced he'd warped into the second coming of Martha Stewart, he was getting so good at cooking), and watch a movie. Since he'd introduced Ziva to The Princess Bride, she'd insisted on watching it at least once every few weeks.

"Rodents of unusual size? I don't think they exist," she'd giggle, and Tony could only marvel at the ninja assassin who loved The Princess Bride and The Sound Of Music.

Friday

Pure, dumb luck. Tony was actually whistling, so happy he was practically Mary Freaking Poppins (except for that stupid little voice at the back of his head that persisted in asking him if this was what his life was like before Shayla).

He was even back into the office for a visit before he officially returned to work next week. So of course, it would happen now.

Funny how an entire bullpen of laughing agents can be shattered by one ringing phone.

"Agent Gibbs," the voice smiled. "Are you absolutely sure you know where your medical examiner is?"

Betcha didn't see that one coming, did ya? And it all seemed so bulletproof.

Hisfault hisfault hisfault hisfault hisfault hisfault...

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