Title: A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes – Chapter 8 - Final
Genre: NCIS – Romance/Angst
Pairing: Tony and Ziva
Rating: T
Timeline: Season 9 A/U.
Spoilers: None I can recall.
Summery: See Chapter One.
Disclaimer: I love them, but they're not mine.
A/N: Nod goes to Ziva4Tony for her gentle nudge: reminding me that I still had to update this. I apologize for the delay: the proofing was shelved due to Missy being engrossed with something else… the other two I'll update through the week.
Written: September – October 2012

Uploaded: December 2012
Word Count: 5,824

..·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·.ƸϊƷ.·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·..

Warning: sensitive readers,

go fetch tissues!

..·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·.ƸϊƷ.·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·..

Tony stepped off the elevator and felt a serene sense of equanimity overcome him. His attachment to this building was stronger than that of his apartment: because here he had been part of something bigger, something that had meant something. He however knew that it was not the building he had missed, half as much as the people found in it; in particular the team…but mostly her.

By some unrealistic twist of fate, she has become the voice of reason in his head, and over the last few months, he had found himself more frequently seeking it out. And his inability to recently hear it: had rendered his heart heavy. His soul felt empty, like a large part of him constantly seemed missing.

He looked around him for a moment, having gotten off a floor earlier than his intended destination: he had needed to see her, needed to confirm that she was still there, that she had not gone off somewhere and gotten herself into some sort of trouble: because he was not around, and because he did not have her back.

The last few months had been torture. Kensi was a piece of work: so much so that he had felt incapable of trusting her. She had seemed too volatile, and that was what had gotten him into more arguments during the last month than it probably should have. Whereas with Ziva: there just was no question, she has always been right there, he did not even need to confirm her presence; she knew how he thought, how he reacted. They could predict each other's movements, communicate with only a glance, not needing to say a word: or constantly needing to establish who is top dog.

He turned towards the bullpen, his gaze moving over the partition, noticing Abby's animated conversation at Ziva's desk. He had not notified Abby of his imminent visit, when last they had spoken: wanting it to be a surprise for everyone. No one other than Vance, and maybe Gibbs, knew of his rendezvous. His heart sped up as he approached the bullpen, the lump in his throat swelling with every step he took, forcing him to swallow repeatedly.

Everyone around him continued with their tasks, going about their business, their day seemingly progressing as per usual: a stark contradiction as to what he was feeling, experiencing.

He once again found himself at a crossroad, not knowing which way to go. It was also the first time he did not feel capable of turning to the team to help him out, to make the decision easy. It was a realization that did not sit well with him. In the past, it had been simple. He would be where she was, that was until… no, he did not want to think of it; he had spent weeks, month's, thinking about it: how he could have done things differently, how they could have been differently, and where they could be.

As he approached the bullpen, he could see Abby rummaging through a carrier bag, before selecting something and pulling it out to show Ziva. 'And I got this for the baby too,' Abby spoke up, holding up some insanely small item of clothing from the bag, emblazoned with sculls.

'Ugh?' Abby's pregnant? Tony thought. The thought for a moment stifling his stride, And just when had that happened? Had probie managed? Or had Gibbs finally seen what has always been right there… because there was no way anyone else could be the father - Abby would have told me if she was seeing someone. He barely heard Ziva's response, because Abby had looked up and in his direction, her face lighting as she excitedly called out, 'Tony!'

He noticed Ziva's entire body stiffen when Abby called his name. He had hoped that with time the situation between them would ease, that they could somehow sort things out and at least be friends. He however did not have time to ponder on her reaction: as he had so steel himself for the impact of Abby's body-slam, slash hug, slash squeeze the life out of you.

Surely a pregnant woman shouldn't do that? He thought as his arms instinctively closed around her. However, his mind tuned out to anything other than Ziva: when she turned in his direction, her eyes suddenly enlarging. God! How had she managed to become even more beautiful in my absence? She glows, her skin has this particular hue to it. I want to touch it, to feel if it is as soft as it looks, if it is still as soft as I remember it being, he thought as he looked at her. His thoughts moved on, and came to rest at another. Ray. He quickly glanced down at her hands, indescribably relieved when he noticed the lack of a ring on her left hand. So she has not gone through with it, he thought as Abby's hug finally loosened.

Abby's bubbling drew his attention from Ziva and to the dark haired goth: who seemed determined to ask him a million questions within the shortest possible period of time, her hands talking animatedly along with her. His brain had barely registered the last question before another was fired. He tried to indicate for her to slow down a bit, to give him a moment to answer at least a few, when Gibbs purposely strode into the bullpen, 'DiNozzo, shouldn't you be with the Director?'

'Yes, Bo-Gibbs,' Tony corrected his answer, his gaze locking with Gibbs's, noticing the determination in the man's eyes.

'Well,' Gibbs demanded, before sitting down at his desk. His action was enough indication to Tony that the team was between cases: possibly catching up on paperwork. Tony smiled slightly at Gibbs's manner. Even after months away, Gibbs was still Gibbs: he could always count on the man to keep things in perspective.

Tony moved from Abby's side, professing, 'I'll come see you later,' and then you can tell me about this baby, he left the latter unspoken, before moving from them and ascending the stairs. He held Ziva's gaze for the latter part of the first flight. On his accent of the second flight, he noticed that his desk was still empty: he had not ventured to consider the likelihood of him being reassigned to the team, for he knew that he and Ziva had crossed the line, and that in all likelihood they would not be permitted to work together again, ever. But he would happily accept any position in the building, or at the yard, that the director offered.

He lifted his head and walked towards the director's office, for his debriefing and reassignment, ready to accept his fate: whatever it might be.

'You can go through,' Lynda indicated the moment he appeared at her desk, 'He's waiting for you.'

'Thanks,' Tony replied, stepping past her and into Vance's office.

'Agent DiNozzo, please sit,' Vance said indicating to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

'Director Vance,' Tony acknowledged, before sitting down.

Vance once again opened Tony's file, glancing it over for a moment. 'I'm at a bit of a loss as to where to place you,' Vance started, before looking up. 'Although your record reflects you as a capable agent, the word from Hettie and her team is that you're unpredictable, although resourceful,' Vance halted for a moment drawing a sheet of paper from his inbox, glancing over it. 'I have a position on the USS John Kennedy when it leaves port next month. Hetty has also indicated her interest for you to remain with OSP, and then there's a slot open with Agent Dunham's team in Dubai,' Vance continued, before returning his attention to Tony's file, lifting a slip from it. 'Then Agent Gibbs has also put forward that he would be willing to take you back onto his team.' Tony's heart started pounding anew: he immediately sat up taller at that. 'And from your reaction it is safe to presume you want to return to your old team,' Vance said closing his file.

'Yes director,' Tony sincerely replied, nodding his head slightly.

'It comes with a series of conditions though,' Vance cautioned him.

'Ziva,' Tony breathed in response, feeling his heart drop to his feet: knowing there was no way Gibbs was going to go easy on him on that one.

'Whatever happened between you and Agent David is not of my concern. My concern is having a team that functions as a unit: the way that team used to.' Vance stressed, 'The conditions have been set by Gibbs, not me, and he will discuss them with you if you are to return.' Vance looked pointedly at Tony: who nodded his head in response. 'Go talk to him first; and only once you have decided, will I officially reassign you,' Vance concluded.

'Yes director,' Tony replied.

'Talk to Gibbs, the sooner I get your file off my desk the better,' Vance replied, placing Tony's file to the side.

Tony stepped out of Vance's office and nodded at Lynda as he passed her desk, coming to a standstill when he reached the railing. He placed his hands on it, and looked out over the squad room below. Ziva was sitting, working at her desk, as was Gibbs. McGee came in with a tray of drinks and stopped at Ziva's desk, handing her one. Ziva thanked him for it, before placing it aside and returning to her work.

A longing sigh escaped him as he glanced at her: then suddenly froze. His heart dropped to his feet, as a cold bolt of shock rocketed through his body, rendering him numb. His hands gripped the rail tightly, the whites of his knuckles showing as his gaze remained fixed on that bag: the one Abby had been scratching through earlier. He swallowed repeatedly, trying to keep the bile down as his mind refused to accept the possible intimation it held: for it was no longer with Abby, it was neatly placed next to Ziva's coat.

Oh god, it's not Abby that's pregnant. His knees suddenly weakened at that thought, his mind rebelling against it. No! Ziva cannot be pregnant. Please let her not be pregnant. Oh God please, no, not his, please let it not be his, not Ray. Any child of Ziva's would be beautiful. But with his genes: hers would have to work overtime. Besides he doesn't deserve to have her, doesn't deserve to have a child with her. He does not love her enough.

He looked at her, trying to establish how far along she could be, because she was not showing… when a sudden sense of nausea overcame him, causing him to swallow even more in an attempt to keep the bile down… What if it's mine? We, so often, we didn't, I didn't think about it. Oh god, that baby could be mine. His heart pounded in his chest, as his hands tightened their grip even more: had he been superman, he would have mangled the railing…

His realization was soon followed by anger, the baby could be mine and she hasn't told me, didn't even bother to contact me. Was she even going to tell me that I fathered a child? I had a right to know.

Just then, Gibbs's phone rang, and he watched as his mentor picked up. Speaking into it for a moment before turning to look towards the director's office: mentioning something before ending the call. Tony had no doubt that it had been the director on the line. Ziva, having noticed Gibbs's actions, also looked up: and even from the distance separating them, he could see her expression change. A concerned frown appeared on her forehead.

He stepped back from the rail, thankful that his legs remained capable of bearing his weight, and watched as Gibbs made his way towards the stairs. Tony turned towards the stairs, intending to intersect Gibbs on his way to the director's office.

'Conference room, DiNozzo,' Gibbs said as he came up the last few steps. Tony nodded his head and fell in behind Gibbs.

They had hardly stepped into the conference room when Gibbs spoke up, 'Director says you want back.'

Tony closed the door before turning towards Gibbs, replying, 'If you'll have me.'

Gibbs, having placed himself on the opposite side of the table, looked at him for a moment, before asking, 'He tell you the conditions?'

Tony shook his head slightly n response, swallowing before replying, 'only that there are some.'

'Ziver,' Gibbs started, and Tony nodded his head at that. 'You two need to sort it out first, can't have the two of ya fighting,' Gibbs replied, before stating, 'team won't work then.'

Tony looked at Gibbs, wondering if he knew about Ziva's pregnancy: then cast off the thought: if Abby knew about it, and openly discussed it, then the whole team would know about it. Yet, none of them had thought to give him a heads up, to warn him of what he was going to face. Swallowing once again he replied, 'I'll speak with her, see if we can work something out.'

Gibbs looked at him tilting his head slightly, before shaking it, 'Let me know when ya have,' he finished then turned to leave.

Tony waited until Gibbs made to open the door before saying, 'Thanks, Boss.'

'I ain't your boss, not yet anyway,' Gibbs glibly said, before leaving.

Tony sat down at the conference table, placing his head in his hands as a sigh escaped him, What am I going to do? Not even Abby had pre-warned him of this…

Ziva moved restlessly about her apartment, the level of agitation having steadily increased since seeing him. Her heart had raced at first when Abby had announced his arrival, she had been too fearful to look around, just in case it was some prank. However, the tingling sensation that had started along her spine had forewarned her that it was him behind her: and her suspicion had been confirmed when Abby had dropped the baby-grow she had been holding, and rushed over to hug him.

Her heart had pounded as she turned to look at him, for a moment taken aback by his appearance he seemed drawn, having lost weight in his absence. She enviously watched as Abby hugged him: and he responded in kind. So often, she had wished that their relationship could have been as uncomplicated, that she could simply walk up to him and take what she needed. But alas, it was not: and it was only bound to become more complicated as things progressed. She had instead watched him as his eyes glanced about the room, and over her, before returning his attention to Abby. There had been no crooked smile, no slight nod of acknowledgement, he had been… aloof, would best describe it. It was only later, once she had gotten over her own shock of seeing him, and after he and Gibbs had spoken, that she had realized what her and Abby had been talking about, and that he could have heard. It was not how she had planned for him to find out, she still wasn't certain if she had any idea as to how she would have told him: only that she needed to.

He however had not returned to the bullpen after meeting with Vance. She had been tempted to call Abby some time after Gibbs's return to the bullpen: she needed to know if he had gone there, if the scientist had spoken to him since his arrival; wanting to know what was up, or where he was going. Something that had increasingly got to her as Gibbs remained tight lipped about what had been said between them: and she knew something had been said, because Gibbs never needed much time or many words to get his message across.

Ziva finally settled on her couch, dropping her head into her hands and releasing a frustrated sigh as she thought things over, when a familiar knock interrupted her thoughts: one she had subconsciously been expecting all night. She rose from her couch and crossed the distance to the door, steeling herself by taking a fortifying breath, before opening the door.

Tony stood in front of her door as he waited for her to open it: his heart pounding in his throat. He had spent a considerable amount of time deliberating as to what would the best course of action be, but had finally relented to his need to confront her on the matter, and get from her the answers he so desperately sought. However, as he stood there, he could not help but think it was a bad idea: that it was best left until later, best left until he had fully accepted what he had just discovered

He looked at her as the door opened. A tightening sensation enveloped his heart: for he was faced with the softer Ziva, the one he had been privy to for such a short period of time, the woman he loved, rather than the hard as nails federal agent she was by day. He could also tell that her guard was up, and that he was in for one hell of a fight.

She watched him for a few moments, remaining still in the doorway, until he wearily spoke up, 'We gonna do it out here?'

Ziva released a pensive sigh and shook her head, stepping back slightly and opening the door farther for him to enter, then closing it behind them.

His gaze landed on the carrier bag, that had been placed on the table, and was once again faced with the disbelief of their situation: the thought of her being pregnant, that soon there would be a little person for her to take care if, was difficult to envision.

'Would you like something to drink?' Ziva asked, intruding on his chain of thought: causing him to look at her, before shaking his head in reply.

He gathered his nerves, and finding his voice he asked, 'The baby's mine, isn't it?'

Ziva looked past him for a moment, and visibly swallowed, before pinching her lips and carefully nodding her head in reply.

Tony stepped closer, and quickly demanded, 'Were you even going to tell me?'

His action saw her pull back slightly, but holding her ground, before replying, 'That is an irrelevant question.'

Tony looked at her, a tightening sensation gripping his heart: his lungs also seemed to stop functioning, at her assertion, causing him to clench his fists in order to contain it. 'How could it be Ziva?' he demanded more heatedly than he intended, yes saw her stand her ground, 'I fathered a child. I have a right to know. So I find it very relevant.'

'It is irrelevant because this is the first time we have actually spoken since you were reassigned,' Ziva confirmed, stepping back from him, 'We have not had any real contact with each other since Ray arrived that morning.'

'And there was just no other way of telling me, was there,' he bitingly replied, watching as she moved to her lounge, following.

'Some things are best done in person, Tony,' Ziva finally replied turning to look at him, 'They are too important, too life altering to be casually referred to in conversation.'

'Yeah, I remember you telling me that about Ray, that's how things ended up in this mess,' Tony bit back, swallowing when she turned to look at him in disbelief.

'No,' She firmly replied, bridging the distance between them, he prepared for her attack, expected to be thrown off his feet once again. However she came to a halt a mere foot from him and glared up at him before continuing, 'We, ended up in this mess because you couldn't let things be. You could not wait for your memories to come back, and now you blame me for giving in to you, at a time I could not get hold of Ray. You were the one who would not relent, I could have waited, would have waited for your memories to come back, So that you were certain that what you were doing was what you wanted. But you made it so hard to keep you at arm's width.'

'Arm's length,' he immediately corrected her.

'Whatever,' she replied stepping from him, before softly professing, 'It was a mistake.'

Tony simply looked at her, speechless. To him it had been the farthest thing from a mistake. He could never consider it that: it had been too real, too important to ever be thought of as such. He swallowed against the pain that overcame him, pinching his lips tightly together, before retorting, 'You didn't seem to think so at the time.'

Ziva looked at him, before forlornly replying, 'Maybe because the heart often wants something it should not have.'

'Don't I know it,' he retorted in reply, taking another deep breath.

'Ha! You, who professed to get E.J., claming that you understood her,' Ziva quickly started, before reposting, 'Have you even addressed matters between the two of you: or have you left her hanging on the side while you sort out… whatever it is you need to sort out?'

'This is not about E.J.,' Tony firmly replied, before professing, 'It has nothing to do with her.'

'Really?' Ziva questioned in disbelief, 'Because your actions are above approach? Because you do not really care who you hurt as long as you can have what you want?'

Tony looked at her in shock: unable to believe his ears. Ziva has never openly attacked him on his actions, she had joshed him about it in the past, but never actually accused him of being careless. Anger coursed through his veins, causing him to clench his hands in an attempt to temper it, clenching his teeth as he replied, 'Things were through between me and E.J. when she left.'

Ziva looked at him in astonishment, shaking her head slightly before replying, 'Then how come you told me?'

Tony just shook his head, drawing in a deep breath in an attempt to dispel the tension in his body, before replying, 'Oh come on Ziva! You were all gaga for Ray at the time. I didn't want you to worry about me, and what I wanted.' He looked past her for a moment, when he saw her disbelief, before mutedly adding, 'I didn't even think you would remember.'

'And just what type of a partner would I be if I do not remember the things my partner confides in me: especially when I think they are things that matter to him.'

'What was I supposed to say, Ziva?' Tony rejoined in frustration. ' The truth?'

'It would have been nice to know that you at least respected me enough to be honest with me,' Ziva quickly rejoined.

'And you would have wanted to hear that she's just someone I settled for, someone I spent some time with, because the woman I love won't even look at me, does not even think of me in such a way.'

Ziva stood speechless, her entire body ridged, as she looked at him in disbelief, eventually nodding her head slightly before replying. 'You have never even mentioned being in love, other than Jeanne.'

'Yeah, well, its not easy pulling out the big three, when you don't know how they will be received,' he quickly deflected. 'Besides there are more important things to address,' he added, indicating towards her abdomen.

Ziva stood taller at that, before professing, 'I have already decided that I'm going to have the baby.'

Tony shook his head whilst answering, 'That's not what I meant,' then looking pointedly at her, he added, 'I mean us. What are we going to do about us?'

'There is nothing to be done,' Ziva deadpanned.

'Ziva?' Tony appealed, his voice taking on an imploring quality.

'No, do not Ziva me,' Ziva quickly replied, before reasoning, 'I have already spent nights thinking things over: and what would be the best for my child.'

'And you've decided that me not being in the picture is the right thing?' Tony retorted, before adding, 'Because I could not possibly want to have anything to do with it.'

Ziva swallowed at that, steeling herself against the pain his words evoked. It was not that she did not want him there: it was just better for her, and the baby. Drawing in a deep breath she finally found her voice again, and firmly replied. 'It is not about you, or you wanting to be there. It is about what is important for the baby. Children need stability,' She halted for a moment drawing in another breath, her heart contracting as she said the last sentence, firmly believing it, 'And you are as far from providing a stable environment as one can be.'

'What does that mean?' Tony retorted, glaring at her. She knew the words would hurt but they were needed. She needed to protect herself and her child, and she was not certain that she could do that with him around, that she would not end up being hurt time and time again because her heart never followed her head when it came to him.

'What do you suggest? We split weekends and holidays?' Ziva started, heatedly, 'and what if you become enthralled by some other woman, forgetting to pick up your son or daughter? Who then has to make excuses and explain things when you forget to be there because you have more pressing matters to attend to than some recital or football game.'

'I'm not my father.' Tony firmly replied through clenched teeth.

'No, you are not,' Ziva complied before firmly adding, 'But you have similar tendencies.'

'So you would rather my child grow up without his father?' Tony angrily demanded.

'It is what is best for the baby,' Ziva flatly replied, drawing in a deep breath to steel herself against the ache that filled her heart. There was nothing she could want more than to be with him, to share this with him, but she could not put herself through it, would not be able to overcome the denunciation she would suffer if he were to take interest in another woman. So, it was best to do it now, whilst they were the only ones to be hurt by this.

'What is best!' Tony heatedly replied, before pronouncing 'You know what is best? If I drag that pretty little rear of your to the nearest courthouse, and marry you. That's what is best.'

Ziva looked at him in shock, her heart racing, just the thought that he would do something like that, that he would tie himself down to her, was enough to almost make her abandon the argument. But she did not want him dong it out of duty, because even behind the tough exterior that she displayed to the world, there was a woman who wanted the man of her dreams to love her when they got married, not to just do it out of duty. She shook her head slightly in response, before replying, 'It is not unheard of for a woman fall pregnant and have children out of wedlock: it is no longer a shame. Here are many single mothers out there, raising their children. I would be no different to them.'

'So your demanding of me to step away, to leave you and the baby be?' Tony asked, incredulously.

'I am not demanding, Tony. I'm asking for you to do what is best for the baby,' and me, she left the latter part unsaid as she maintained his gaze.

Tony just looked at her in disbelief, his indecision clearly written on his face as he pulled himself up to his full height: swallowing visibly, before finally nodding his head, replying, 'okay,' However remaining in position for some time, before stepping closer to her, and hesitantly asking, 'could I at least say goodbye?'

Ziva frowned at that, and nearly backed away from him at the request, but nodded her head in response. She gasped slightly n surprise when he went down on his haunches before her, lifting her hands in confusion as he addressed her abdomen.

'Hey there! You,' he cautiously started, and Ziva looked down, noticing the way his hands clenched slightly as he visibly swallowed, before raucously continuing, 'It's your daddy here… I know you're nice and safe and warm in there because I know your mom, and she's good at keeping the things she loves safe.' Ziva gasped as his fingers traced over her abdomen, gently caressing her skin through the fabric her top. Her body immediately responding to his touch: having yearned for it. Her heart started pounding, sending blood down to her apex: a very familiar ache settling there.

'You're a very lucky baby, and you have a great mom: or at least I know she will be. She's already protective of you.' Tony halted, tugging at her shirt. Ziva wanted to object her hands clasping into fists as his hand came to rest on her abdomen. 'I could tell you about your mom,' he started his fingers once again stroking over her skin. 'She's an amazing woman. Scary. And by that I don't just mean her crazy ninja scary, and that she'll kick whoever crosses you's butt: but scary in the way that she can make you feel things, things that you're not even sure how to cope with, or if you could cope with them.' He drew in a deep breath then, and Ziva started swallowing against the ache forming in the back of her throat, as he continued, 'She can make you feel like you're the most important person in the whole world, and that's the most fantastic feeling.' The last came out gruffly and Ziva started swallowing anew, blinking to contain the tears as her eyes started aching.

Tony also took a deep breath before continuing, 'I just wanted you to know that I'm not sorry we made you. I could never be that. The three weeks I spent with your mother…were the best three weeks of my life. And If I could go back, I would make you all over again: only I'd be sure to do it the right way round, and tie her to me first.'

Ziva started panicking, not certain if she should push him away as she swallowed at the lump in her throat. His lips brushed against her skin, and her entire abdomen contracted at the contact. However, Tony seemed not to notice, as he continued, 'I love your mom, God knows I've loved her for years already. If it hadn't been for work, and the situations, and the misunderstandings…all I ever wanted was for her to be mine, to love me. I guess it just never as the right time. I knew I could never hold onto her, couldn't afford to lose her either.' The last he said pressing his forehead against her abdomen, before huskily adding, 'But I already have.'

Ziva swallowed, repeatedly, as she tried to master the conflicting emotions, the one side of her wanting to take those words and hold them close to her heart, but the other knew he had already hurt her so often, and that he could hurt her even more if she gave in again. She was uncertain as to what to do, not wanting to move away from him, his touch his presence so familiar.

She looked down at him, heard him draw in another breath, then groan slightly. The sound shot through her like a bolt of lightning, it was the same one he had made on smelling her arousal, and no amount of time would ever be able to erase that from her mind: or the pleasure associated with him. It all complicated her decision, making it harder to make. However, she gathered her strength steeling herself against the desolation that was to follow as she stepped back from him: not trusting herself to say a word.

Tony looked up at her, his own eyes appearing glassy. He cleared his throat and rose from his position, glancing about the room before finally professing, 'I guess I should go, no use hanging around where I'm not wanted.'

Ziva simply remained looking at him, her hands clasping in fists, as he moved towards her door. 'Where will you be going?' she finally managed to croak out as his made to open the door.

He released a sigh, before flatly asking, 'What is it to you?'

'So that I could at least let you know,' she haltingly replied.

'I'm not sure, a boat, possibly somewhere in the Arabian desert or OSP. It hasn't been decided yet, I'll let you know where,' he said opening the door.

Ziva watched him move her entire body strung with the attempt to hold t together, not wanting him to see how hard it was on her. 'Tony,' she gasped as he made to step through the door, causing him to turn and look at her. 'Why did you never say anything?'

Tony swallowed and cleared his throat, before shrugging his shoulders and replying, 'Would it have made a difference?'

Ziva just looked at him, stunned, their gaze holding for some time. He seemed incapable of moving, unwilling to go, and she was not certain if she could hold it together for much longer. Then eventually shook her head, as the tears breached.

He drew in a deep breath and pulled himself upright at her actions, breaking his gaze from her turning, intent on stepping through the door and out of her life, when he heard the broken words he would never forget, 'Don't go.'

He halted for a moment, trying to determine if he had really heard them or if it was just his imagination. He turned his head to look at her, fighting against his desire to run from there and numb the pain with corpus amounts of alcohol.

He watched the tears slip down her cheeks, and had to fight his own. He watched as she swallowed against the sobs, her exterior shell falling apart in front of him, and still he couldn't trust what he'd heard, if he'd heard properly.

She eventually managed to find some of her voice, croaking 'I love you.'

He would swear on his mother's grave that he has never moved as fast as he had then, wrapping her in a tight embrace. 'Don't make me go Ziva, I can't. Need you too much.'

Ziva pushed her head into his shoulder, her shoulders already shaking from the effort to contain everything, she haltingly replied. 'Don't want you to, I want to be tied to you and make more babies.'

Tony dropped his head forward, resting his chin on her head, professing, 'We'll make it work, somehow.'

..·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·.ƸϊƷ.·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·..·¤°°¤·..

A dream is a wish your heart makes: and only by following it and making the sacrifices needed, will you know true happiness.
Thank you for reading.