I'M SORRY! :O :( *ducks and hide in corner*

I am an awful person... it had been far too long :( but real life has been getting crazy, and for many weird not very interesting reason, I haven't had much of a chance to write :( but fear not, for here it is! an update!

any of you guys out there Les Mis fans? I just watched the 25th Anniversary Concert, and then the film, and I have to say, I'm hooked. Anyone out there feel the same? and what is this I hear on the scuttlebug about people hating the Les Mis fandom?!

wow, I've gotten rusty at this. This author's note is long.

Anyways, I know that I don't deserve your reviews, but please leave you love/hate in a review! :)

Disclaimer: not mine.

Chapter 35

Ziva's eyes shot open, her hands immediately coming up to cover her face against her phantom attacker. But as she felt Tony shift next to her, her hands dropped to her sides, and she let out a sigh, her head tilted back against the onslaught of emotion that her nightmares brought. It was just a dream, she had to remind herself, as she shuffled her body back so that she lay even deeper in Tony's arms. She took his hand in hers, playing with the long slender fingers. But despite her movement, Tony remained dead to the world, so encased in his dream world, and not wanting to let go. Ziva couldn't quite decide whether she was happy for his peace, or just downright annoyed.

Ziva opened her eyes once again, the images from her dream were still vividly painted onto her eyelids, and no matter how she tried, they would not leave. It wasn't like the bright like that burned on her retina when she stared at a light to bright to be looked at. It was more like a searing pain, an excruciating image that felt so real, and as alive as the man lying next to her. Sighing, she resigned herself to the fact that she would probably not sleep again that night. Extracting herself from Tony's sleeping form, she slid silently out of the bed, her feet padding against the thick woollen carpet, and out into the landing, and into the kitchen.

Flicking on the light, and opening the fridge in the same movement, Ziva pulled out the half carton of milk that sat in the side drawer. And as she turned around, she spotted something in the reflection of Tony's metal kettle. Something moving.

Ashley stood there, pulling at the sleeves nervously and putting one in her mouth in that way children could whilst still being cute. Wordlessly Ziva took two mugs out of the cupboard instead of just her own, and then poured milk into the two mugs, and putting those in the microwave. Still she did not say anything, as she waited for the milks to finish warming in the microwave, and once the chime signalled their perfect temperature (what could she say, she had lots of practise), she turned around to address the child.

Ashley at some point had moved to sit on the breakfast bar, clearly not deterred by the high chairs that would normally pose a challenge for someone as vertically challenged. She made a mental note to tell her not to climb on her own next time (wow, she was starting to sound like her mother…). Ziva slid the mug of milk over to the girl, and took a seat opposite her.

Silently they sipped their milk, Ashley trying to psych Ziva out with that freakishly intelligent look in her eye, and Ziva trying to think of what to say. She had always had the suspicion that Ashley would not stay sleeping that night, even when she and Tony had put her down to bed the night before. Even among the strangely domestic scene, Ziva had known that there was no way that Ashley would spend the night sleeping in a strange house when she had seen her father die. No matter what age, losing a father was tough. And it would result in many sleepless nights to come.

"Where's daddy?"

Those words. Those words broke her heart. How on earth was she supposed to tell this kid that her father was currently lying in a morgue somewhere in Washington, as a team that included the man whose house this was investigated?

"He is a little sick. He needs to be looked after," Ziva started.

"Looked after by who?" Ashley said, not looking Ziva in the eye, but playing with the milk on the edge of her mug with that tiny fragile fingers.

"Well," Ziva said, stalling for time before she was forced to answer, "who looks after you when you are ill?"

"Mummy," Ashley said.

"And so maybe he needs to be looked after by his mummy?" Ziva said, as more of a question than a statement. She had never done this before. What was she supposed to say?

"Ohh…" Ashley said, and Ziva almost sighed in relief at the fact that the child was not emotionally scarred by her inability to deal with small children.

"Where's your dad?" Ashley asked. And for a moment, Ziva in her nightmare once again. Her nightmare where she had been the one to kill her father, that she had got angry, and lashed out, and killed him. Those nightmares were the most frightening. Those ones that were so close to reality, that they might have come true, had the turn of events been ever so slightly different. It was terrifying to know that the monsters of your dreams could come and get you. And it was even more terrifying when the monster was you.

Ziva stood up, turning her back to the child, pretending to look for biscuits to go with their midnight snack. The cover allowed her those few moment that she needed to pull herself together, for the sake of Ashley, and for the sake of her sanity.

"He is," Ziva started, closing her eyes again to keep her emotions in check, "He has gone."

Tony had woken up the moment he felt Ziva stir in his arms. It was impossible not to, he could feel her moving in her sleep as her body was pressed against his, causing a welcomes pressure against his chest. Her fear and anger evident in her every move and he could pinpoint the exact moment her eyes flew open, when her movements stilled as she feared that she had woken him. He smiled at her actions, and he desperately fought off the urge to curl his fingers around her tiny hands as she entwined hers with his. But staying perfectly still and keeping up the charade, he let her hands play with hers, before she released them, and he had to force his hand to fall back lifelessly. It took all he could not to follow her as she swung her legs from the bed, and out of his arms.

Tony found himself at the bottom of his stairs, his quiet footsteps making him feel like a burglar in his own home. He was about to make his presence known, offer some kind of remedy for Ziva's nightmares, when he spotted the kid behind Ziva, looking every past the scared child in her pink pyjamas, courtesy of Gibbs and a broken chain of evidence (terrifying the techies in the way that only Gibbs could). Tony didn't want to intrude where he knew Ziva could cope. He had never been that kid with the loving, caring parents, and he knew first-hand how this could effect a child. And he didn't want to be the one to make that happen. Despite he want to do things right with Ziva, he didn't think he was quite ready enough to be that father.

Leaning against the wall, he settled to watch the scene unfold, and trying to not feel like an unwanted gaze. And as he heard the conversation between the girls progress, he became even more conscience of his silent presence. Ziva's reassurance was so comforting (and he was sure that the warm milk didn't hurt either), that it as no surprise that the kid seemed to be reacting positively. It was only in only in that moment where Ashley spoke about Ziva's own father, standing directly on the time bomb of emotion that Ziva had been avoiding for the longest of times. And when she uttered those words, partly to Ashley, and partly to herself, Tony realised something he should have a long time ago. This was the first time Ziva had voiced the revelation of her father's death aloud. It was like she had been in some kid of subconscious denial phase. But now this child of all people had coaxed her out of that dark place. And finally Ziva could have the peace that alluded her for so long.

Finally.

oooOOOooo

"It makes you thing, doesn't it?" Kate said as the team watcher Ashley being re-united with her mother. The whole team stood in the bullpen, Ziva having said her goodbyes as left for work that morning, and for once there was no thick dark cloud covering the space, as death and destruction sought refuge among the stained orange walls. But somehow, the darkness had fled, hiding until another day where it would return to their lives one again. But the light had been victorious. The light in the form of that small child currently smothered in her mother's arms.

"Think of what?" Tony said, keeping up the class clown act like there was no tomorrow.

"Kids," Kate clarified.

"You sure? Because I still remember that conversation we had a while back that involved kids and trackers…" Tony said trailing off at the murderous glare he received from Kate.

"Kids are a hell of a responsibility," McGee, being the caring idiot that he was and nobody's side on this one.

"Are you saying that I couldn't do it?" Kate said, quirking one eyebrow in that sophisticated and yet terrifying way that one she could (and possibly Ziva. But Ziva was his ninja, and Kate was just scary. Scary if you were Probie over there…)

"No!" McGee said quickly, "I was just saying that… people! Yes, um, people in general aren't responsible. You, on the other hand…" he trailed of nervously.

"So I am not a person?" Kate said, crossing her arms and sending him a glare. McGee opened and closed his mouth frantically, like a gormless fish.

"Put his down Kate, he's not a toy," Gibbs said, standing there like he had been there all along, and he hadn't just been metres away seconds ago. Tony glanced at Kate looking for an explanation to Gibbs' unnatural speed, but Kate just shrugged her shoulders. This was Gibbs they were talking about. Gibbs, who had the uncanny ability to appear just as Abby discovered something new on the case, who could win an battle for anything, no matter what agency in what country. Kate wasn't even going to attempt to explain that man. Who was she to explain the unexplainable.

It was at that moment where Kate saw the elevator signal a visitor to their humble abode, and out stepped Ari.

"Caitlin," he said, he mouth caressing her name in one of the most suggestive ways she had ever heard (wait, what? Who was she, some trashy romance novelist?!). She noticed that it had been a while since he had got a haircut, and he his dark locks had been growing. His hair had now grown past the short course layer that it had previously been, and now was brushing the tops of his ears. And it was a good look for him.

"Are you free?" Ari said, in an endearing nervous way, with being confronted with the team. Ari had met them all before, both individually and on groups. But this was the first time that he was in an enclosed space with all of them (if you counted the squad room as an enclosed space). That combined with the fact he was basically asking Kate out in front of them did nothing to calm his nerves.

"For, lunch?" he finished pathetically, trying to ignore the way that both McGee and Tony were puffing out their chests in a weird big brother kind of way. In a way that looked like they were about to beat him up.

Maybe this was a bad move.

"Ermmm… yeah sure, Gibbs?" Kate said, equally nervously .

Gibbs paused for a moment, enjoying the bated breath that the whole team plus Ari seemed to be sharing. And just because he was the boss, didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun.

"Sure," he said, and as the couple were walking away to the elevator, he threw away a final comment, "Have her home before midnight!"

Judging by the sarcastic tilt of the head and glare he received, Kate did not appreciate it.

hehehe... reviews? ;D