A/N: My sincere apologies for the delay. It took me a while to get this where I wanted it.

Part III

He had not seen her in almost three years and yet, she took his breath away.

In a split second, all the memories, all of the emotion, it all came back to him.

Ziva.

He let go of breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding since he set foot on that airplane more than two and a half years ago.

She came around the corner of the house slowly and timidly – scared of what she would see. The wind blew her hair across her face and her eyes darted for Tali.

"Ima!" Tali screamed and Tony set her down on the ground as she squirmed in his arms to reach her mother. As soon as she hit the ground, she was in Ziva's arms.

He had never seen so much emotion as he did watching Ziva pick their daughter off the ground and swing her in her arms. Tears of overwhelming and all-consuming joy welled in her eyes and strewn down her face as she told Tali how much she had missed her and just how happy she was to see her.

And it brought tears to his own eyes. How had Ziva sent this wondrous little girl halfway across the world without ever knowing when she would see her again?

Tony stood towards the head of the front walkway, not really knowing what to do with himself. This was a moment between mother and daughter and just where he fit in the equation…he still wasn't sure. So he set their bags down on the ground and stuffed his hands in his pockets and he tried to pretend that this wasn't the most overwhelming moment of his life.

Ziva shifted Tali to her hip and took her first step toward Tony. "Abba took good care of you, hmm?" She commented. At the sound of Tony's name, the little girl's head whipped around and she outstretched her arms towards her father. And for the first time in what Tony swore was a lifetime, he and Ziva locked eyes.

He was sure that he had undergone a lifetime without her, but in that first millisecond when their eyes met again, it was like no time had passed at all. Here was Tony with his Ziva and a flood of understanding passed between them.

Tony smiled sheepishly and reached for his daughter, though he barely took his eyes off her mother. Already, part of him had felt empty without Tali in his arms. He had become so accustomed to their newly formed routine. It had been he and Tali against the world.

"Did you like the airplane?" Ziva asked, tucking some of Tali's hair behind her ears as she settled on her father's hips. "You and Abba have been on many adventures, yes?"

Tony cleared his throat. "What were we doing, Tali?" He asked.

The little girl's face lit up with realization and she looked from her mother to her father and back to her mother. "Find Ima!" she clapped.

"We did, didn't we," he said and his eyes moved from Tali's to Ziva's. This was his move.

Ziva's eyes filled with water once again. She kissed Tali on the cheek, choking out a quiet. "Yes, you did." And her arm shot out towards him in a desperate attempt to pull them together.

Never one to let her fall, Tony took her hand and wrapped it around his back, pulling both of his girls into his arms. The contact between them was so much for both of them. Tears rolled down Ziva's face. Tony himself had been overcome by the feeling of living and breathing Ziva in his arms and he found his hold on her tightening, worried that she would somehow slip right through his fingertips.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered over and over.

He nodded against her and whispered soothingly. "It's okay, Zi. We'll figure it out."

She nodded against him and stepped back. Taking Tali back into her arms, she motioned towards the cottage. Tony picked up their bags and followed her inside.

The house was bigger than it looked. From the outside, it was just a cottage, but upon entry he realized just how expansive it was. The entryway gave way to a large, open kitchen and living room. It was French through and through with muted tones and ornate furniture. The back wall was lined with windows and through them he could see the surf crashing on the beach below.

"Are you hungry?" Ziva asked Tali.

At the little girl's nod, Ziva pulled a tub from the fridge and doled out some grapes. She hummed quietly through the motion

"And you, Tony?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'm good. Thanks," he said. "You're…um…friend Angie really took care of us this morning."

Ziva smiled warmly at the image. "I think she wishes she had more people to cook for. It makes her happy."

Tony nodded and stared at Ziva through weighted silence. They could talk about Angie all day and night, but it would simply avoid the pressing topic at hand.

She bit her lip for a moment before setting Tali at the kitchen table and whispering something in her ear. She turned to Tony and took two paces towards him.

"I …am… afraid to talk about things in front of Tali," she said. She glanced nervously over her shoulder back at Tali, unwilling and unable to meet his gaze.

"Do you think I'm going to yell and scream?" And he wasn't sure how much of that question were serious.

"It would not be unwarranted."

Tony rolled his eyes. "But that's never really been my style, has it?"

She shook her head and then opened and closed her mouth several times. She struggled with words. "Tony, I just…I can't…not yet." She looked back longingly at Tali. "I just want to be with her."

She waited for him to speak, but he said nothing and so she turned back to Tali and stroked her hair. Tony approached the table slowly before taking a seat next to the little girl. He picked up a grape and held it above his mouth. Tali's eyes went wide. And then he popped it into her mouth. And she giggled.

"Silly!" the little girl exclaimed.

And watching the interaction so natural and so easy between her baby girl and Tony, something let go inside of Ziva.

So they sat and once Tali finished eating, Ziva asked if she would like to see the big waves, like the ones at the beach in Haifa and Tali lit up, squealing "I-fa" as she hopped out of the chair.

Tony and Ziva didn't talk as Tali splashed in the waves and pulled rocks and shells from the sand. They talked to Tali and they talked about Tali but they never really spoke to each other. And yet it was clear as the cloudless day that whatever happened between them in the coming hours and days, they would always be there for Tali – together. And so they took turns guiding her over rocks and scooping her up when the terrain dwarfed her little body. And she brought them shells and sea glass and they ooh-ed and ahh-ed.

Tali tired early in the afternoon. She became cranky and a wayward wave almost led to a meltdown and so Ziva remarked how it might be time for a nap and Tony was quick to agree.

So they scaled the rusted old stairs back up the cliff, Tali, holding onto each one of their hands as they weaved through the flora and fauna that led them back to yard of the cottage. The sun was high in the sky and sweat was beginning to pour off of Tony's forehead, but the women in front of him seemed to be unfazed.

At the gate, Tali sank to the sandy grass, a meltdown threatening to overtake her for the second time in less than five minutes. Ziva squatted down beside and pulled her into her arms, murmuring quietly into Tali's ear. "Are you tired, my love?" she asked.

"Well that was…easy." Ziva remarked. And if was the first time that she had spoken directly to Tony all afternoon. She pulled the door of Tali's room shut, but not before stealing another look at the sleeping two year old.

"Yeah," Tony nodded. "I don't know if it's all the travel…maybe she just likes having to pairs of eyes on her." His voice fell off at the end, realizing that his own thoughts of how both of their presence clearly calmed their daughter might be too much for both of them to process right now.

Ziva ran a hand through her hair and tried brush off the comment. "They say children are adaptable, hmm?"

She turned towards the spiral staircase, but Tony's hand landed on her shoulder. It made her shudder.

"Can we talk?" he whispered. "Please."

Ziva rolled her shoulders and looked toward the windows. "Tony," she began.

"Come on," he said. "This," he motioned between them, "this is painful."

She turned towards him and her eyes fluttered shut. She sighed. "How will I ever justify keeping her from you?"

"You can't." He spoke quietly.

And she deflated.

"But you can tell me how it all happened so maybe I can understand."

She bit the corner of her lip. "It is long."

He chuckled. "Ziva, we have time."

Ziva contemplated his words for a moment, before making her way to the end of the hallway and sinking down into the padded window seat that looked out to the ocean. "I am going to become upset," she warned.

He approached her slowly and took a seat on the ground below her. Tony turned and looked up at Ziva. "I'm not mad, Ziva. I don't hate you. I'm just beyond confused."

"I know," her voice cracked. "I …cannot imagine…if the roles were reversed." She shook her head.

Tony let out a sardonic chuckle. "Yeah so who's wining now?" He asked. "I've thought you were dead how many times? Is it five?"

A small smile broke out on Ziva's face. "Tony," she admonished.

"Ziva, come on," he pleaded. "Just try me."

And then she began right where she left him.

Letting Tony walk up those stairs and onto that plane, Ziva told him, will forever remain one of the biggest regrets of her life. She knew that as soon as he turned and waved to her. But there was no turning back then. She'd left the most important people in her life and the only place that she'd ever been happy. So, tears streaming down her face, she'd set out to fix her life – to atone for her past.

For months she worked odd jobs, teaching English to adult learners in Tel Aviv, working as a personal trainer but neither seemed to work for her. She had no purpose and she unhappier than ever. The teaching was boring and she ended up taking some of her own personal frustrations out on her training clients. It wasn't until she began working as a nanny for a family that she regained some stability and purpose in her life.

It was the woman whom she worked for who first congratulated her on her pregnancy.

Ziva was confused and the woman explained that she could just tell. Three days later, the same doctor who had written her a birth control prescription before she left for the IDF confirmed it.

Ziva David was pregnant. And Tony DiNozzo was the only option.

Almost seven and a half months into her pregnancy, Ziva was put on bed rest for her high blood pressure. Her doctor had implied that she needed a bigger support system. Loneliness wasn't good for the baby. Neither was paranoia.

That was when she and Orli reconnected.

Among those in Mossad, it was no secret that Eli's daughter, the one who'd gone off to the States and never came back, was pregnant and with her American partner's child. Upon learning that her movements would become quite limited, Ziva decided she needed to ensure her and her soon-to-be born child's safety and security.

That was where Orli came in.

At first, their relationship was simply utilitarian. Ziva would allow Orli restricted access to Eli's private files if she provided a Mossad protection detail for the couch-ridden former assassin.

Through Orli's research, however, she and Ziva formed more of a personal bond. They were both fiercely independent and determined to all that they could on their own with no help from anyone else. Eli had always weighted heavily on their minds, both woman having had a tumultuous relationship with him.

Through Tali's first year, Orli was a common fixture on the grounds of the old farmhouse. And so when intelligence came through that someone was targeting Eli's private files, Ziva and Orli began a contingency plan. Orli felt the threat was relatively minimal, but Ziva was unwilling to take any chances with Tali's safety. And so she called one of her oldest friends, she called Angelina.

Tali knew Angelina. She and Ziva had visited a couple of times and her life was mundane enough for it to be safe. And so at the end of April, Ziva brought Tali to Rome where they met Angelina. And that was the last time Ziva had seen her baby girl until just this morning.

Orli and Mossad had planned to give Ziva advance warning of the attack – she would wait it out in one of the sheds and help Mossad identify who was after Eli's personal notes, but they had missed something along the way. Mossad never saw Ghazi Farsoun coming. He wasn't on their radar. They'd been tracking a North Korean defector turned assassin for hire.

The news hadn't been a smoke screen. Ziva was in the house when it blew up. She was the survivor pulled from the rubble. A broken rib and a concussion, Ziva had been livid when she spoke to Orli from the Mossad safe house.

They had been blindsided she had spat. Had Tali been there…Ziva couldn't even think about that possibility. Orli knew the devastating possibilities; she understood Ziva's anger. And so Orli had agreed to become an accomplice to Ziva's elaborate plan. They had to find who was behind the hit and they had to make sure that while doing so, both Tali and Ziva were safe.

So Orli came to Perpignan. And she picked Tali up and brought her to safest place in the world – her father's arms.

It wasn't the introduction that Ziva had been planning. No, she'd been working up the courage for almost a year to pick up the phone and asked Tony if they could meet somewhere – if he could come there or she could go to him. She would do anything.

But all of that had gone out the window. Tali needed to be in the protection of someone who loved her as deeply as Ziva did – even if they did not know it yet. Ziva didn't know how long they would be apart. It could be days or it could be months. If she couldn't be there, then Tony had to be.

She'd packed the bag for Orli and instructed that it was never to leave Tali's side and that was where she stored the first of her clues.

Ziva had never been in Paris. Angie had brought the note for her. She'd just waited – waited and wondered if he would ever find her. If he would ever forgive her.

A/N2: Let me know what you think! A million thanks for sticking with me on all projects after all that's gone on! ~Cara