To past readers, welcome back! If you haven't read my work before, this is the third piece in a series, following Making Exceptions and Making Rules. Together these are a TIVA epic beginning just after Jet Lag. Check out the earlier pieces, then come back!

I know a lot of you were upset at the ending of Making Rules, but don't worry, I wouldn't have written nearly 35,000 words if I didn't like these characters and want the best for them...eventually. Would it help if I told you that at the end of my couple pages of notes on where this is going it says "Making Up? Making Out?" as possible titles for future chapters? That said, it's going to be a little while before things are lovey-dovey again. Certainly not in this chapter, since it establishes the state of things. But while this may be fiction, it isn't fantasy.

Making Mistakes

We learn wisdom from failure much more than from success. We often discover what will do by finding out what will not do; and probably he who never made a mistake never made a discovery.

Samuel Smiles (1816–1904)

Self-Help

Ziva woke with a sob, kicking out, panicking as her legs, tangled in the sheets, suddenly seemed restrained. She jerked free and lay still, gasping. The dream lingered in her mind, scattered images that slipped away even as they flickered before her eyes. Men she knew were dead tying her up, holding her down. Tony bleeding on the ground but also standing over her with a gun.

She blinked rapidly, rushing the nightmare on its way. But as she sat up, it hit her. He was gone. Ziva took a deep breath and slowly let it out. The ache hadn't faded, but she was done crying. She glanced at the clock. She had time to get a run in before work.

*

Tony got to work late. He'd had more than a few too many last night, and even now he knew his breath was stale and his head was sore.

The others were already at their desks. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at his lateness but no one commented on it. As he turned past her desk, there she was, looking more severe than usual in simple black and a tight braid. She didn't look up at him.

Tony glanced around, wondering how they'd break this to the team. He watched as Gibbs gave him a once-over, frowned, and raised an eyebrow. Tony nodded once. Gibbs winced thoughtfully, then got back to work.

And so things seemed to go on as usual.

*

By noon they hadn't caught a case, so they were allowed to take their lawful lunch break for once. Tony slunk down to the lab when Ziva and McGee began to get the group order together. He propped himself moodily against Abby's lab bench and sighed.

"Oh, Tony!" Abby cried, catching sight of him from ballistics and rushing in to give him a hug.

"Oh, Abby?" he asked tentatively, hugging back. It felt good to hug her, but not just right.

"Tim told me," she said gently.

"Told you what?" Tony asked agitatedly. Were they that easy to read?

"That something really wrong was up with you and Ziva. Or is it not? Because I tried to tell him it might just be a front to cover up the fact that you got secretly married or something really wonderful--"

"No." Tony cut her off. "We split up."

"Oh, Tony!" She launched herself against him again.

He hugged her back gratefully until she pulled away.

"How's Ziva?" Abby asked worriedly.

Tony snorted. "Back to normal. She and McGee were laughing over take-out menus when I left."

Abby gave him a derisive look. "She's faking, then."

His eyes dropped. "Abby...we've only ever known her as well as she let us. Back when she first got here—Ziva can be hard and ruthless when she has to be."

"No." Abby shook her head so firmly that Tony looked up at the sound of her pigtails hitting her shoulders. "Tony, we know her better than anyone. Especially you. And we know that she's a great actress as long as she doesn't tried to be a nerd."

He didn't smile at the joke.

Abby cocked her head. "You cover everything up, Tony. Everything. Can't you see that's what she's doing?"

Tony shrugged. "Maybe."

She threw up her hands. "I have work to do, DiNozzo. You can't hide down here and not listen to what I'm saying."

He nodded, sighing. Leaning forward, he pecked her on the cheek. "Thanks for the hug, Abs." He headed back to the elevator.

*

They still had half an hour for lunch, so Tony didn't head straight to the bullpen. Instead he took the elevator up to the catwalk outside MTAC and made his way to a corner where he could watch the desks below inconspicuously. There was McGee, eating his Chinese food and staring at something on his computer screen. There was Ziva, breaking a fortune cookie into smaller and smaller pieces. Then McGee looked over at her, seemed to say something. Ziva jumped.

For a moment, Tony didn't process what he'd seen. Ziva jumped. Plus she'd taken a fortune cookie, and she never took fortune cookies. He was gratified, but only for an instant. It had hurt when she seemed not to care, but if she did, everything was worse. If she did, then she was in pain and it was his fault, and he'd broken a rule he'd made for himself a long time ago.

"Got a case I don't know about, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, coming out of MTAC to lean against the railing next to Tony.

He shook his head mutely. There was nothing to do but say it. "We broke up. It was my fault." He could feel Gibbs' eyes on him but didn't turn.

"It's been my fault plenty of times," Gibbs said mildly. "Would it do any good to tell you to fix it?"

Now Tony looked over. "I would if I could."

Gibbs studied him, then nodded. "Don't give up."

*

Her coat and purse in hand, Abby walked determinedly into the bullpen as she saw the boys head for the elevator. She stopped in front of Ziva's desk. The other woman was already pulling on her coat. "Would you like to get a drink?" she asked brightly.

Ziva hesitated, then shook her head. "No thank-you, Abby."

Abby paused. "Tony told me. If you need a shoulder to cry on..."

With a flinch, Ziva straightened. "I have survived far worse than Tony," she said firmly. "I appreciate the offer, but I do not require your shoulder."

"But you were so happy!" Abby protested.

Ziva's eyes fell but the rest of her facade remained resolute. "No thank-you, Abby." She gathered her things and left.

Abby watched her go.

"Can't force it, Abbs," Gibbs said gently behind her.

She whirled. "They deserve to live happily ever after! He saved her life and they fell in love--"

Gibbs cut her off with an irritated shake of his head. "Life isn't a fairy tale. Maybe they'll work it out and maybe they won't."

She glared childishly. "Maybe they will." She turned her back defiantly to watch Ziva reach the elevator.

Gibbs sighed behind her. "I hope so too," he murmured.

Next time:

Ziva pressed her code in to play the voice-mail. A familiar voice rang out. "Hey, Ziva, it's Damon. I'm in town to pick up the last of my things and I've got a job lined up in Iowa so tell me when I can take you for that dinner I owe you. Call me." As he stopped speaking, the electronic recording began to give her options, but Ziva wasn't paying attention.