A/N: Thanks for the reviews, and your wonderful patience!

Chapter 23 – Scars Part 2

"There are some things I have yet to tell you until now."

The words punctured a hole through the dead silence of the room. There she stood in front of him, naked and shivering, yet strong. Her skin was goose-pimply from the cold. Lit by a dim bedside lamp, the color of her skin resembled a coffee with extra cream. He licked his lips at the description. His gaze flicked north, south, east and west in a matter of seconds and, yes, he had seen her like this many times before, but each time he came to the same conclusion – Ziva David was a goddess.

Tony was taken out of his thoughts by the sound of a throat being cleared. His eyes snapped up from their rooted position on her toned stomach and she met him with a raised eyebrow. For a minute she thought she may have to repeat what she'd just said, but then it was obvious that his mind was coming back to him.

"What is it, Ziva?" For a split second she looked like a caged animal. She began nibbling on her lower lip, and her face turned pale. Tony pulled down the covers on the other side of the bed and propped up her pillow for her. "C'mere," he patted the sheets. Ziva slipped in the bed foot first before pulling the covers up to her chest. There was a considerable amount of room between them, but it was obvious that she wanted some space right now. Tony placed his book on the bedside table, along with his glasses, and made himself comfortable in bed turning on his side to face her. "It's going to be okay, Ziva. You know you can tell me anything. I'm always here for you."

"It's going to be okay." Meaning, not everything is okay yet, but eventually it will be. Perhaps he understands more than I thought, she decided.

"I know," she replied, and a sad smile appeared on her lips before quickly fading. Her hand reached up and disappeared through her thick brown curls. She closed her eyes and didn't say anything for a while, just layed very still and ran her fingers through her hair.

He watched her silently. Though she may be his goddess, and his ninja, he knew she tired easily. An outsider would barely be able to notice; she hid it so well, but her eyes sometimes grew wary and, for such a young woman, the pain and guilt he would occasionally catch in those dark eyes was that of a tortured soul.

Her eyelids fluttered open and he was once again taken aback by her beauty, as well as her look of sorrow.

"I understand your feelings of guilt; what it is like to blame yourself for…things, things that were out of your control." She sighed deeply, and took his hand that was under the covers and glided it across her arm. He could feel the faint traces of bumpy formations that he knew were scars. Her scars. "You probably wonder where most of these came from."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

She flinched when the tips of his cold fingers made contact with her hip. She, however, didn't shy away from his touch. "No, you should know." He deserves to know. After all, he has shared his – now it is time to share your story, Ziva. Ziva gripped Tony's other hand and fixed him with a stare that said, 'Promise me you will not judge me.' He bowed his head in a silent promise to her. Judging from her own slight nod, she seemed to except it. "Most of them are from my training."

Tony squinted his eyes in thought. "Your training…you mean for dancing?"

It looked like her cage had been rattled.

"No, I mean Mossad. My father is the director."

Tony's eyes widened and the hand that rested on her hip twitched, however, the one that held hers only tightened. "Mossad, as in…Mossad?"

She felt the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes."

"Guess that explains your outstanding abilities at firing a weapon." She glared at him, and he cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry. Go on." She opened her mouth to speak, but he spoke again. "Wait a minute, you're Mossad?!"

"Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"Tony, if you let me finish, I will explain." His finger tapped her side, signaling that she could continue. "I was supposed to be Mossad. I was supposed to grow up and become what my father wanted me to be. He wanted so much for me; so much was expected of me, and my sister and brother."

"That must have been overwhelming."

"It was, at times. He wanted us to grow up, and fight, and be strong and fearless…and some days I wanted that too. Sometimes I wanted to be just like my father…and my sister, Tali, wanted to be just like me."

For a second, he could have sworn someone opened a window; a harsh chill ran across his body. Ziva's body shook, causing the sheets to vibrate, and it appeared that she had felt it too.

"That's a good picture." He pointed behind him.

"Yes, that was my sister and I."

"See, I'm learning new things about you already. You have a sister."

"Had", she said, not meeting his eyes. "She died three years ago."

"I'm sorry."

Ziva chuckled sadly. "What have you got to be sorry for?" Then she whispered under her breath," You are not the one who killed her."

The picture still hung on the wall. He could tell that she was trying desperately hard not to look at it.

"It will be four years in April. Since she…she was…", she sighed shaking her head, as if she still couldn't believe it. Her shiny brown eyes were staring into his. It was almost like she was asking his permission to continue, or maybe she was afraid to continue; afraid to reopen old, faded, but still lingering scars.

"Ziva," he whispered.

"I was with her when it happened."

He wasn't expecting that. He drew in a deep breath and it sounded like she was choking on hers. Her voice was steady out of effort, but ever so soft when she spoke again. "She did not like to think about death, even though we were surrounded by it." She paused and collected her thoughts. "She begged me to take her into town that night." She smiled briefly. "I was surprised, because it was usually me who liked to do most of my sightseeing at night. She was always such a day person; hated the dark. I, however, could not say no to her, so I agreed. We had spent most of the night shopping…she was so full of life that night, she even wanted to go dancing." Her hand suddenly shot up from under the sheets and covered her mouth before the inevitable sob broke through. "While we were walking home, I spotted a car driving slowly behind us and then, suddenly, it…burst into flames. She was standing too close, I tried…I tried to save her." He pulled her into his arms as she began to cry. His hands rubbed circles up and down her back and he whispered sweet reassuring words in her ear that eventually calmed her. "I saw it coming and I could have stopped it. If only, I realized it sooner."

"Ziva, that wasn't your fault," he spoke softly.

She placed a hand on his cheek. "And that little girl's death was not yours either."

He placed his hand over hers on his cheek as he drew her closer to him. He kissed her temple, letting her know that he understood, and it was that admission that seemed to comfort her most.

"After what had happened to Tali, I had to rethink some things. I wanted to get away from Mossad, away from my father. I was so angry over her death. I wanted to get revenge, but I just couldn't stop thinking that she wouldn't have wanted violence. She would not have wanted me to die, even if I wanted to. I just didn't care what happened anymore. Then, not long after, my brother Ari was killed, and I finally decided that I had to leave. My father was not happy about that, as you can imagine. When I told him, there was so much shame in his eyes. The disappointment, the rage, I could not stand it. That was when I made the choice to come here. It is safer this way."

Tony was not sure what to say at this point. He was still trying to process all of the information she had shared with him. It was all so hard to imagine, he didn't want to think about it. "Is he looking for you?" he asked.

She shook her head and rubbed at the corner of her eye. "No, I do not believe so. He does not care anymore. The first year I came here, I know he was looking for me, but after a while, I know he stopped. Perhaps leaving me alone is his way of apologizing finally; to make up for his sins."

He wondered, just how many sins did her father have to make up for? And just how many of them involved her? Judging from what she's shared about him, he figured the number wasn't small. It made anger boil in his chest when he thought of anyone causing her pain, but to think that it was her own father, that was even worse. He hated the man already and he'd never even met the guy. He did, however, have to give him one thing – his daughter is the most amazing woman Tony has ever met.

They simply laid there in the dark for a while. The night's events had worn them out, and it felt like they hadn't slept for days, but neither of them expected to fall asleep. The sheets were huddled around them like a tent, protecting them from the cold, as well as the outside world. He imagined it had to be close to one in the morning. He thought he better check the clock on the nightstand, but was too comfortable to move. He looked down at Ziva who was distracting herself by playing with his fingers. Her eyes curiously followed the lines of his palm. She had decided against putting her nightgown back on, and an hour ago, she had even managed to get him out of his own pajamas. Not that he protested. They had no intentions of making love however, oh no, this wasn't about that. There was just something about lying next to one another like this that made everything else around them seem so far away.

"Tony."

"Yeah Ziva?"

He felt her hot breath on the inside of his palm as she kissed it. "Thank you for keeping me safe…and for still loving me, even after everything in the past.

He was at a loss for words. She was thanking him? If anything he thought he should be thanking her.

"Ziva," he was about to reach out for her when he felt her hand on his cheeks.

She leaned in and kissed him softly. "I have never shared that part of my life with anyone before Tony, but you, I feel safe with you.

His insides swelled with pride at her words, and he wondered what he did to deserve her. "Ziva, nothing will make me ever stop loving you. Nothing. And I will always protect you."

She sniffled and smiled at him before giving him a serious look. "Promise me, that you will stop blaming yourself for things that are not your fault."

He nodded, and placed his hand over his heart. "I promise."

She placed her hand over her heart as well. "And I shall do the same."

It was a promise, a pledge, a vow, and they both knew that it was only the first of many to come in their evolving relationship.

Reviews are always welcome. I love them!

Ok, so who cried during 'Shabbat Shalom' and 'Shiva'? (…Proudly raises hand…)