"Of Mice and Men" - Tony/Ziva
disclaimer: So not mine. Just borrowed them for play. Put them back unharmed.
notes & warnings: Happening during and after the episode 9x11 "The Newborn King", so yes, spoilers for that episode.
Eleventh and final part in the "Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder" series. Will make much more sense if you have read the previous parts: one two three four five six seven eight nine ten
This is it, folks -- the final part of this series. I hope you enjoyed the ride, even though you had to wait a bit for this one. It was hard to wrap my mind around it, but since I don't like to leave things hanging when it comes to fiction... here we are. :)
One thing you have to keep in mind so this will feel right in your head -- this has turned into a storyline that works quite well within the confines of the first eleven episodes of this season. After that, however, it takes a sharp left turn and stumbles into a different reality than the rest of this season. Meaning, in this universe "Housekeeping" and "A Desperate Man" (and everything after that, really) will not happen.
A big "Thank you!" to my wonderful cheerleader Wennuhpen, who also gave me - without intending to - a certain tickle scene, for which I will be forever grateful. :)
word count: 4,900
comments & feedback: As always, very much appreciated. :)
Of Mice and Men
She feels strange when McGee calls her over. He seems a little too excited, and he's waving something that looks suspiciously like a greeting card. Which, granted, isn't all that unusual on Christmas Eve, but for some reason it still makes her gut tingle in a way that is firmly on the unpleasant side of things.
"There you are," he says while she drops her backpack and slips out of her jacket. "I was just about to call you! Look at this!"
He waves the card again, and Ziva walks over to Tony's desk while she tries to hide her frown. Her curiosity is tickled now, but the weird feeling gets stronger, too. She takes the card from McGee and reads it, but she fails to see what's so special about it, except that it seems rather wordy for a simple greeting, even with the invitation that is attached.
"So?" she says and hands it back to her partner with a shrug. "Not every woman he ever dated wants to rip out his intestines." She blinks, and then her mind draws a few more connections that leave her vaguely uncomfortable. "Unless you think that boy--"
"No, no!" McGee interrupts her. "He's too young to be Tony's. He hasn't talked to Wendy for a lot longer."
He says the name as if it should mean something to her, and that, in turn, leaves Ziva mildly confused. She's not entirely sure what kind of reaction he expects from her. It quickly changes her confusion into irritation, and she raises a hand to rub the space between her eyebrows and chase away the first traces of a headache.
"McGee, I'm not in the mood for a quiz this early in the morning. Just tell me what's so special about this Wendy."
"She's the Wendy he was engaged to."
His voice sounds like he's about to do a somersault, and she thinks that she hasn't seen him this excited in ages. He's like a little boy who just dug up something incriminating he can use on his older brother.
She would probably feel the same way if she were in his place, but right now she cannot share his enthusiasm. She's too busy trying to catch up with the words that spin in her head, and she wants to ask him if she understood him correctly or if he's just messing with her. If Tony was really such a different person back then. The kind of person who gets serious. Who gets engaged.
But she can't say any of these things, of course. She can't very well admit that up until now she had no idea about this, and so she tries her best to keep her expression blank while she nods and says, "Oh. That one."
Later, she thinks that it shouldn't really surprise her. Peter Pan falling for a Wendy seems like the natural order of things.
*** *** ***
The more she thinks about that card, the more she finds that it unsettles her. It's not just for the obvious reason -- that Wendy is a woman Tony was apparently quite serious about at one point in his life.
No, it somehow disturbs her how this woman stirs the memory of that commitment at a time when Ziva tries to step back from her partner, to distance herself from him emotionally. To smooth over the ripples in their tiny pond of coexistence. She's doing a bad enough job at that on her own. She doesn't need another woman coming up on the scene and reminding Ziva that, deep down, she does want Tony in her life.
All of this leaves her with too many conflicting emotions, and while part of her wants to take him back and maybe even mark him as hers now, another part feels weirdly relieved that he won't be on his own forever.
One thing she can easily understand is why that woman still wants him back after all these years: it's hard not to.
*** *** ***
He's merely confused at first when she tells him to talk to Wendy -- reconnect with her -- and the second time he flat-out ignores it. She can feel his irritation, though, and so she shuts up, for now. He still corners her in the break room half an hour later and asks her what the fuck is wrong with her.
"Nothing," she lies and presses her palms to her thighs so he won't notice the minute trembling in her fingers.
"Then why do you keep shoving Wendy into my face?"
She doesn't have a good answer to that. She simply doesn't know. She only knows on some level it seems important that he faces that woman.
"Maybe I don't want you to regret anything," she shrugs eventually. "You did want to marry her once."
"That was ten years ago, Ziva."
"She doesn't seem to be over it yet."
"She was married and pregnant seven months after I had called off the engagement." His voice is harsh suddenly, and Ziva blinks and tries not to meet his eyes. She's never been good at facing him when he's all raw and emotional like this. "She didn't waste any time clinging to the past, so why should I?" He stares at her and waits for her to say something. When she doesn't find the right words, he shakes his head. "This isn't about me. She wanted a kid back then. Now she just wants a new daddy for that kid."
And once again Ziva isn't sure what to answer. The only reply she can think of seems much too personal. Too... involved. And she's doing her best to get dis-involved with him.
She swallows around the lump in her throat. "Well, she's smart then." The words feel like razors on her tongue, and she wonders if that's the reason her voice sounds weird to her own ears.
Tony merely blinks and stares at her while he tries to make sense of her words. "What?" he finally asks. It's such a simple word, but his confusion is palpable.
"One day you will make a good father." She looks away when the last word tumbles out because she's not sure what he'll make out of that sentence. If he catches on and figures out what it really means. If he realizes that being a father would mean not being with her.
His stare feels heavy on her for a few heartbeats. Then she suddenly hears him turn on his heel and leave without another word. And it's silly, really, that this brings up another lump in her throat. Because a tiny, tiny part of her would have liked him to react differently, after all.
*** *** ***
On some level she realizes why she wants him to face Wendy. She'll never be able to put her feelings about it into words, though, because it's no more than a vague thought, nagging and needling at the edges of her perception, and she pushes it away for the better part of the day because it is just as complicated as their entire relationship has been over the years. And because it's a trick question, really. It's the most devious kind of test, and she's not sure what a 'correct' outcome would be -- if she wants him to run back to Wendy and embrace the pre-made family the woman offers or if she'd prefer it if he shied away from old attachments and responsibilities and continues to be the emotionally irresponsible man she has come to know over the years.
It won't really matter which path he chooses. It's a test he will fail, and no matter how he reacts, he will end up breaking something.
*** *** ***
She sips her chocolate and chats with Lieutenant Reynolds about a lot of things they can both relate to: the deployments in hostile countries, the wars, the aggression they have faced. How men behave around them, and how they both learned to cope with that.
They do not talk about the one thing that stands like the pink elephant between them -- the new life growing inside of Emma. It's like they both awkwardly acknowledge the topic and decide in unison to skip it. Ziva suspects that is because Reynolds still has trouble connecting the thought of being a mother with who she grew up to be -- a Marine. Ziva certainly knows she would have the same problem.
It's only much later, when she checks her weapons and tells Gibbs she has this covered, that she realizes they skirted around the topics of motherhood and childbirth for another, weirdly simple reason as well, a reason based on something Ziva has rarely felt towards other women: jealousy.
*** *** ***
Yes, she thinks, and her thoughts keep spinning around that one single word. Yes, she thinks while she throws away her emptied Sig.
Yes, she is jealous. Jealous of the simple fact that others are allowed to bring life into this world while she has to keep taking it.
*** *** ***
She has backed away hard, emotionally, by the time Tony and McGee storm the gas station, and she flinches and avoids his touch when Tony reaches for her and asks her if she's okay. She can't give him a good answer because everything that comes to mind and sounds like a reasonable response would be a lie right now.
In the end she just nods and looks away and tries to ignore the way he frowns, because if she acknowledges his concern, if she lets him touch her... if she lets herself be touched... No, she can't do that. She would lose the tiny shred of control she still has left over her emotions.
It doesn't surprise her when Tony mirrors the raw pain in her and turns away. His mouth is just a thin, angry line, and it's weird, but his hurt expression is the one thing that suddenly softens Ziva's heart and makes her think that maybe she got this all wrong. Maybe them being apart is not the better way to go, after all.
She can't react to this realization, though, because that's when Gibbs's hand comes to rest between her shoulder blades. He wants her to go to the hospital, too, once the ambulance makes its way through the storm. Wants her to get checked out because the Russian slammed her around hard and he knows this wasn't an easy one for her. He hasn't seen the fight, just heard the ruckus, but he still knows she took a hard one because that's just what he does -- what a good father does. One look at her has always been enough for him.
For a moment she thinks about claiming she's fine. About telling him the bruises on her ribs and her back aren't as bad. That she doesn't need the time-out.
But she does need it, and she's not fine. Not entirely. And even though it's more her heart than her body that needs treatment, she gives in and for once stops putting up a fight.
*** *** ***
Ziva gets to ride in the ambulance with Emma and the baby, and she feels decidedly weird about it. Like she doesn't really belong here. Emma's whole attention is focused on the little girl now, and that leaves Ziva feeling like she's intruding on something private.
Well. Technically, she is.
It's almost a relief when the paramedic tells her to lift her shirt so he can check her ribs. This is something she knows how to deal with. She's done it all her life.
*** *** ***
"Smile!" she says, but neither the Lieutenant nor her daughter really need the request to beam at Ziva while she snaps a picture for the team with her cell phone.
It's strange, but right now, when she looks at Reynolds, Ziva no longer sees the hardcore Marine, the fighter, the woman she can relate to. She only sees someone weirdly giddy and relaxed, and every time Emma looks at her tiny daughter, her face softens a little more, until all the panic and duress of the past few days is stripped away. Her expression changes subtly, too -- more emotion creeps in with every minute, and her features soften while she gently strokes her daughter's cheek until the baby girl yawns and her head falls to the side.
"She's beautiful," Ziva murmurs quietly, and Emma blinks and looks at her.
"I guess I did good there." Her smile is weird, torn between awkward realization and beaming with pride.
Ziva swallows around the sudden lump in her throat and steps closer to the hospital bed. Her hands itch suddenly, as if she needs just a little bit more to take home with her than just the photo, and since Emma looks at her almost encouragingly, Ziva reaches out very carefully and runs her index finger over the baby's tiny, tiny hand.
It's just the hint of a touch, barely enough to feel the incredibly soft baby skin underneath her fingertip. Still, the girl suddenly flails in her almost-sleep, and Ziva holds her breath when itty bitty fingers grab hers and refuse to let go again.
"Oh," she breathes out, and Emma laughs.
"Tell me about it."
Ziva blinks, remaining frozen and a little bit in shock, and for a while all she can do is stare at the baby's hand and the chubby fingers holding on to hers. Thoughts spin in her head, but they're gone again the second they form themselves, and she can catch none of them, much less make sense of the sudden emotions coiling up in her belly and confusing her.
It's only later, when Lieutenant Reynolds's doctor tells her that both mother and daughter need some rest now and she should go home herself, that she realizes what exactly has confused her heart and her mind so much.
*** *** ***
He's not home when she arrives at his apartment, and for some reason that leaves her feeling unsettled. It gets worse when she calls him and the first thing she hears is a child's giddy laughter. Her heart beats hard and fast in her throat suddenly, and for a moment she is so sure that he took her advice and went to see Wendy after all that it chokes her and leaves her speechless.
"DiNozzo," he says, and then he laughs while the child squeals into the phone. "Hang on, we have a severe tickling situation going on here..."
It sounds like he puts his phone down on a table, and for a heartbeat the laughter duet rises to new heights. Then Ziva hears her partner's voice while he's talking to the kid, and she can't help it, she presses her phone a little closer to her ear, just so she can understand him better. "Sweetie, I gotta take this. Go play with Uncle Gibbs for a minute, okay?"
It's a girl who answers him, and for a second that leaves Ziva even more confused. Wendy had a son, right?
Then Tony says, very softly, "Hey", and she realizes he's not visiting Wendy. He's with someone else, and even though she doesn't know who it is, Gibbs is with them, so it isn't a date. And maybe she isn't too late after all, because that softness in his voice almost sounds like it's directed at her.
"Am... am I interrupting something?" She hates the hesitancy in her words, but she can't help it. She's still unsettled and nervous, and she wishes madly she could come up with a better way than to actually talk about this.
Tony, of course, hears the waver in her voice, and so he lowers his own. It's just a tiny shift in his timbre, but she knows his whole attention is fixed on her now. And somehow, that makes it even worse.
"No. Gibbs dragged me along, we're with Leyla and Amira. Leyla's a damn good cook, let me tell you." He chuckles, but when Ziva can't come up with an answer that seems appropriate, the amusement trickles out of his voice and more softness creeps in. "Listen, you wanna come over, too? There's plenty of leftovers. I'm pretty sure Leyla won't mind."
"No, I'm... I'm..." She still can't find the right words, and so she falls quiet for a moment. Closes her eyes and rubs her forehead until he says her name softly. "Tony, can we talk?"
Now he's the one not saying anything for a moment, and with each passing breath, with each stumble of her nervous heartbeat thundering through his silence, she gets more nervous. Maybe she will be too late, after all.
"Yeah," he says, and Ziva breathes out slowly. "Yeah, I guess we should do that. Where are you, at my apartment?"
"How--" He laughs, and her frown deepens a little, not because she's angry about his teasing, but because this seems too natural.
"I know you, right?"
He hangs up before she can even try to come up with a reply, and for a moment she just stares at her phone. Then she tucks it away and sits down on the stairs that lead up to the house her partner lives in. She wants to be patient, wants to sit still, and she hates the fact that she can't. That she starts to bite her lip after a while and picks her fingernails and starts to feel so disconcertingly female inside.
He knows her, all right.
She thinks that however long this takes, it will most likely seem like the longest wait of her life.
*** *** ***
"Hey," he greets her and flops down beside her on the stairs, and Ziva jumps a little because she was so lost in her whirling thoughts that she didn't even notice him. She looks at him warily, and for a few moments he doesn't say anything, just watches her face and searches her eyes because, like her, he isn't quite sure what to expect. "What's up, pussycat?"
She feels the almost painful strumming of her pulse at his question. She knows it's a movie quote, but his words still echo between them, and for a moment she's not sure how or even where to begin.
"Did you ever feel like you wanted something," she eventually says, hesitantly, "and then, when you got it, you suddenly found that it was just the foot of the iceberg of what you really needed?"
"Tip," Tony interrupts her and tilts his head. Then he says, "Okay, let's get one thing out of the way." Ziva blinks, not sure what to say, not sure what's going on in his head now, and so she just looks at him until the corner of his mouth quirks up in the messy parody of a reassuring smile. "I think I'm in love with you."
It takes a while until his words really sink in, and when they do, her eyes widen in sudden panic. She wants to run away suddenly. Wants to tell him he shouldn't love her, it won't be good for him, it'll break him and hurt him, because that's what happens to everyone who comes just a little too close. But before she can voice any of these sounds, Tony reaches out and puts his hand over hers, and that keeps her frozen to the spot. His fingers tighten and squeeze her hand when he feels the tension in her, and he lowers his gaze so she doesn't have to meet his eyes anymore.
"And no, I didn't go to see Wendy. I won't, and it doesn't matter how hard you push me away. Not even if you're here to tell me there's no way in hell we can get this sorted out."
She bites her lip again and wishes she had any words to hold back, but she doesn't. She just has an aching heart that beats too hard and too fast and a confused mind that stumbles all over itself and too many thoughts for her own good. And feelings. She has no idea what to reply to a statement of this magnitude, especially coming from him, and so she remains quiet and just stares down at his hand, still squeezing hers and refusing to let go.
"That's not why you're here, right?" he suddenly says, and Ziva flinches and looks up to meet his eyes.
"I don't know," she admits and takes a deep breath. "I talked to Lieutenant Reynolds's doctor today."
His gaze flicks up. His eyes are suddenly a heavy weight on her because the seemingly sudden jump in topics isn't one at all, and he's smart enough to know that. She knows, in turn, that he's waiting for her to spill it, to tell him what this is about, but her throat is all tight again, and it's suddenly incredibly hard to keep going. To keep putting into words what she wants and he probably doesn't and what they need to talk about anyway, just so they both know where they stand. Because assumptions didn't work too well before.
"About what?" he finally asks when she remains stuck, and that sends a soft shudder of defiance through her.
She's not used to this -- to splitting herself wide open until she is at the mercy of someone's reaction. But if there's one person she owes this to, it's Tony. And he, more than anyone else, needs to know this if Ziva wants to have even the slightest chance of... sorting this out, as he called it. Fixing it.
"About... the fact that I think one day I would like to have a family. One that's more than just the man I l--love." She chokes on the word, and he pretends not to notice, and that's when her mind spins a little and she acknowledges for the very first time he might just be that man. "And... and the fact this won't be exactly... easy in my case."
She falls silent and waits for his reaction, even though she is almost certain what kind of response she will get. She just skipped a few important steps in their relationship, after all -- even the very basic one of actually becoming a couple. She is way ahead of both of them, because she still isn't sure either of them is ready to even be with the other. And now, now she's already talking about being a parent and thinking about a future before the present is even settled, and the mere thought alone is more frightening than any gun pointed at her head ever was.
She still has to do this, though. Has to figure this out and come to terms with what she wants and how she wants her life to be before it is too late.
Tony is quiet for a long while, and she's not sure what he thinks until he says, very gently, just to nudge her a little, "And what did the good doctor say?"
Her lips tighten before she can help it; her mouth turns into a thin line for a moment. Then she turns her head and chances a look at Tony, and to her surprise he isn't all that tense, and he's not angry, not annoyed. His eyes are wide, though, and she's pretty sure that right now he's just as nervous as she is, for just the same reasons.
He lowers his eyes and avoids meeting hers, and while his lips twitch and a soft smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, he looks down at their hands. Then he suddenly slides his fingers under hers, between them, so he really holds her hand now, and Ziva blinks and watches him do that quietly, at a loss for words.
"He says that I am most likely very lucky," she finally murmurs. The words are still hard to get out, even though she no longer feels quite as confused. "They used a method with... with clips instead of cu-- cutting anything, and that has the best chances of being reversed. The success rate is almost seventy percent."
"Huh," he says quietly, lost in thought. "That sounds pretty good." His thumb strokes the mound of her hand, and the sensation makes her heart flutter a little. God, he should really stop this. She can't think straight when he does it. "Did you make an appointment?"
"Uhm... not yet."
"You should."
"Tony," she says and takes a deep breath, and he reacts to the way she says his name and raises his eyes to look at her. He's so warm and soft suddenly, all smile and genuine affection, and her mind stumbles for a heartbeat. And yes, just like that she forgets she actually wants to scold him.
Instead, she tilts her head and says with a confused little smile, "You do realize this was your cue to run screaming, yes?"
He barks out a round of laughter. Shakes his head. Smiles some more at her while he gives her a shrug. "Naw, sweetheart, you're too late for that. I faced my biggest fear already."
She's not sure what he means by that, but she doesn't get the chance to ask because he feels her hesitation and the way she's still torn between trust and love and the person she was not too long ago -- the woman who shut people out and never let them come close, for her own sake and theirs.
"Listen," he says and meets her eyes squarely. He tugs at her hand, and she knows he wants to say more, wants to say more things she's not ready to hear yet. And so, just this once, she is the one who takes action. Who leans towards him and presses her lips to his. She's almost a little desperate as she eats his mouth, and maybe she started this to shut him up at first. But then he returns the kiss, and his mouth is warm and soft, and he knows her so well that she can't help but fall for him, again.
His free hand comes up to her cheek now, slides to her neck, and she can't help the whimper that crawls out of her throat as he drags her closer. She's not sure how he does that -- how he conjures up a need in her that is almost frightening in its intensity, with just a simple touch like that. But it doesn't matter all that much, because she suddenly finds that she doesn't have the strength to fight this anymore, and she can't let all of these emotions go to waste. It's rare enough to have them, for someone like her. She might never get another chance.
She still tears her mouth from his, even though it takes an effort and even though his pulse is all over the place now, just like hers. And he doesn't really stop kissing her. He keeps running his lips along her cheek bones and presses soft butterfly kisses to her temple, until Ziva's head spins and she has to lean against his shoulder to steady herself.
"I'm sorry," she says, and he laughs and kisses her some more.
"For what? You want to run off again now?" he chuckles, but when she doesn't answer right away he pulls back and looks at her more closely. "Ziva, I swear, I will handcuff you to--"
"No!" She winces because his hand tightens around hers while he tenses up. He doesn't even realize it. "It's just... I didn't plan on this."
Tony sighs and pulls back so he can get a good look at her, and the way he searches her face suddenly makes her very nervous. "Doesn't mean we didn't need to talk about it," he says eventually.
For a moment she is confused by the double negative, but there's that smile he sometimes gives her, the one that's not his loud, intrusive charmer's smile, but rather the one that always seems to be just for her alone. The one that holds emotion and warmth and a bucketload of intimacy. It's that smile, really, that special intimacy more than anything else which assures her they will figure this out, eventually, even if it means more talking.
And she realizes with a start she wants to figure it out. She's not sure about how this will play out, or what timeframe they are talking about or if they'll even talk about it at all or just do it at some point. Some point when they'll both know it's the right moment and the right year and the right amount of intimacy between them.
Right now, though, she catches him staring at her mouth, lost in thought, and she thinks that maybe -- just maybe -- they can get a bit of the most urgent confusion sorted out right away by more kissing. Things always seem to be so much clearer when he kisses her. Much simpler.
It's like he heard that thought of hers louder than any words she could have uttered.
*** *** ***
It would have, as Tony likes to put it, scared the shit out of both of them if they had realized at that point it wouldn't even take them a year until the time was just right.
*** *** ***
The best laid schemes of Mice and Men
oft go awry.
~ Robert Burns, "To a Mouse"
notes & warnings: Happening during and after the episode 9x11 "The Newborn King", so yes, spoilers for that episode.
Eleventh and final part in the "Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder" series. Will make much more sense if you have read the previous parts: one two three four five six seven eight nine ten
This is it, folks -- the final part of this series. I hope you enjoyed the ride, even though you had to wait a bit for this one. It was hard to wrap my mind around it, but since I don't like to leave things hanging when it comes to fiction... here we are. :)
One thing you have to keep in mind so this will feel right in your head -- this has turned into a storyline that works quite well within the confines of the first eleven episodes of this season. After that, however, it takes a sharp left turn and stumbles into a different reality than the rest of this season. Meaning, in this universe "Housekeeping" and "A Desperate Man" (and everything after that, really) will not happen.
A big "Thank you!" to my wonderful cheerleader Wennuhpen, who also gave me - without intending to - a certain tickle scene, for which I will be forever grateful. :)
word count: 4,900
comments & feedback: As always, very much appreciated. :)
Of Mice and Men
She feels strange when McGee calls her over. He seems a little too excited, and he's waving something that looks suspiciously like a greeting card. Which, granted, isn't all that unusual on Christmas Eve, but for some reason it still makes her gut tingle in a way that is firmly on the unpleasant side of things.
"There you are," he says while she drops her backpack and slips out of her jacket. "I was just about to call you! Look at this!"
He waves the card again, and Ziva walks over to Tony's desk while she tries to hide her frown. Her curiosity is tickled now, but the weird feeling gets stronger, too. She takes the card from McGee and reads it, but she fails to see what's so special about it, except that it seems rather wordy for a simple greeting, even with the invitation that is attached.
"So?" she says and hands it back to her partner with a shrug. "Not every woman he ever dated wants to rip out his intestines." She blinks, and then her mind draws a few more connections that leave her vaguely uncomfortable. "Unless you think that boy--"
"No, no!" McGee interrupts her. "He's too young to be Tony's. He hasn't talked to Wendy for a lot longer."
He says the name as if it should mean something to her, and that, in turn, leaves Ziva mildly confused. She's not entirely sure what kind of reaction he expects from her. It quickly changes her confusion into irritation, and she raises a hand to rub the space between her eyebrows and chase away the first traces of a headache.
"McGee, I'm not in the mood for a quiz this early in the morning. Just tell me what's so special about this Wendy."
"She's the Wendy he was engaged to."
His voice sounds like he's about to do a somersault, and she thinks that she hasn't seen him this excited in ages. He's like a little boy who just dug up something incriminating he can use on his older brother.
She would probably feel the same way if she were in his place, but right now she cannot share his enthusiasm. She's too busy trying to catch up with the words that spin in her head, and she wants to ask him if she understood him correctly or if he's just messing with her. If Tony was really such a different person back then. The kind of person who gets serious. Who gets engaged.
But she can't say any of these things, of course. She can't very well admit that up until now she had no idea about this, and so she tries her best to keep her expression blank while she nods and says, "Oh. That one."
Later, she thinks that it shouldn't really surprise her. Peter Pan falling for a Wendy seems like the natural order of things.
*** *** ***
The more she thinks about that card, the more she finds that it unsettles her. It's not just for the obvious reason -- that Wendy is a woman Tony was apparently quite serious about at one point in his life.
No, it somehow disturbs her how this woman stirs the memory of that commitment at a time when Ziva tries to step back from her partner, to distance herself from him emotionally. To smooth over the ripples in their tiny pond of coexistence. She's doing a bad enough job at that on her own. She doesn't need another woman coming up on the scene and reminding Ziva that, deep down, she does want Tony in her life.
All of this leaves her with too many conflicting emotions, and while part of her wants to take him back and maybe even mark him as hers now, another part feels weirdly relieved that he won't be on his own forever.
One thing she can easily understand is why that woman still wants him back after all these years: it's hard not to.
*** *** ***
He's merely confused at first when she tells him to talk to Wendy -- reconnect with her -- and the second time he flat-out ignores it. She can feel his irritation, though, and so she shuts up, for now. He still corners her in the break room half an hour later and asks her what the fuck is wrong with her.
"Nothing," she lies and presses her palms to her thighs so he won't notice the minute trembling in her fingers.
"Then why do you keep shoving Wendy into my face?"
She doesn't have a good answer to that. She simply doesn't know. She only knows on some level it seems important that he faces that woman.
"Maybe I don't want you to regret anything," she shrugs eventually. "You did want to marry her once."
"That was ten years ago, Ziva."
"She doesn't seem to be over it yet."
"She was married and pregnant seven months after I had called off the engagement." His voice is harsh suddenly, and Ziva blinks and tries not to meet his eyes. She's never been good at facing him when he's all raw and emotional like this. "She didn't waste any time clinging to the past, so why should I?" He stares at her and waits for her to say something. When she doesn't find the right words, he shakes his head. "This isn't about me. She wanted a kid back then. Now she just wants a new daddy for that kid."
And once again Ziva isn't sure what to answer. The only reply she can think of seems much too personal. Too... involved. And she's doing her best to get dis-involved with him.
She swallows around the lump in her throat. "Well, she's smart then." The words feel like razors on her tongue, and she wonders if that's the reason her voice sounds weird to her own ears.
Tony merely blinks and stares at her while he tries to make sense of her words. "What?" he finally asks. It's such a simple word, but his confusion is palpable.
"One day you will make a good father." She looks away when the last word tumbles out because she's not sure what he'll make out of that sentence. If he catches on and figures out what it really means. If he realizes that being a father would mean not being with her.
His stare feels heavy on her for a few heartbeats. Then she suddenly hears him turn on his heel and leave without another word. And it's silly, really, that this brings up another lump in her throat. Because a tiny, tiny part of her would have liked him to react differently, after all.
*** *** ***
On some level she realizes why she wants him to face Wendy. She'll never be able to put her feelings about it into words, though, because it's no more than a vague thought, nagging and needling at the edges of her perception, and she pushes it away for the better part of the day because it is just as complicated as their entire relationship has been over the years. And because it's a trick question, really. It's the most devious kind of test, and she's not sure what a 'correct' outcome would be -- if she wants him to run back to Wendy and embrace the pre-made family the woman offers or if she'd prefer it if he shied away from old attachments and responsibilities and continues to be the emotionally irresponsible man she has come to know over the years.
It won't really matter which path he chooses. It's a test he will fail, and no matter how he reacts, he will end up breaking something.
*** *** ***
She sips her chocolate and chats with Lieutenant Reynolds about a lot of things they can both relate to: the deployments in hostile countries, the wars, the aggression they have faced. How men behave around them, and how they both learned to cope with that.
They do not talk about the one thing that stands like the pink elephant between them -- the new life growing inside of Emma. It's like they both awkwardly acknowledge the topic and decide in unison to skip it. Ziva suspects that is because Reynolds still has trouble connecting the thought of being a mother with who she grew up to be -- a Marine. Ziva certainly knows she would have the same problem.
It's only much later, when she checks her weapons and tells Gibbs she has this covered, that she realizes they skirted around the topics of motherhood and childbirth for another, weirdly simple reason as well, a reason based on something Ziva has rarely felt towards other women: jealousy.
*** *** ***
Yes, she thinks, and her thoughts keep spinning around that one single word. Yes, she thinks while she throws away her emptied Sig.
Yes, she is jealous. Jealous of the simple fact that others are allowed to bring life into this world while she has to keep taking it.
*** *** ***
She has backed away hard, emotionally, by the time Tony and McGee storm the gas station, and she flinches and avoids his touch when Tony reaches for her and asks her if she's okay. She can't give him a good answer because everything that comes to mind and sounds like a reasonable response would be a lie right now.
In the end she just nods and looks away and tries to ignore the way he frowns, because if she acknowledges his concern, if she lets him touch her... if she lets herself be touched... No, she can't do that. She would lose the tiny shred of control she still has left over her emotions.
It doesn't surprise her when Tony mirrors the raw pain in her and turns away. His mouth is just a thin, angry line, and it's weird, but his hurt expression is the one thing that suddenly softens Ziva's heart and makes her think that maybe she got this all wrong. Maybe them being apart is not the better way to go, after all.
She can't react to this realization, though, because that's when Gibbs's hand comes to rest between her shoulder blades. He wants her to go to the hospital, too, once the ambulance makes its way through the storm. Wants her to get checked out because the Russian slammed her around hard and he knows this wasn't an easy one for her. He hasn't seen the fight, just heard the ruckus, but he still knows she took a hard one because that's just what he does -- what a good father does. One look at her has always been enough for him.
For a moment she thinks about claiming she's fine. About telling him the bruises on her ribs and her back aren't as bad. That she doesn't need the time-out.
But she does need it, and she's not fine. Not entirely. And even though it's more her heart than her body that needs treatment, she gives in and for once stops putting up a fight.
*** *** ***
Ziva gets to ride in the ambulance with Emma and the baby, and she feels decidedly weird about it. Like she doesn't really belong here. Emma's whole attention is focused on the little girl now, and that leaves Ziva feeling like she's intruding on something private.
Well. Technically, she is.
It's almost a relief when the paramedic tells her to lift her shirt so he can check her ribs. This is something she knows how to deal with. She's done it all her life.
*** *** ***
"Smile!" she says, but neither the Lieutenant nor her daughter really need the request to beam at Ziva while she snaps a picture for the team with her cell phone.
It's strange, but right now, when she looks at Reynolds, Ziva no longer sees the hardcore Marine, the fighter, the woman she can relate to. She only sees someone weirdly giddy and relaxed, and every time Emma looks at her tiny daughter, her face softens a little more, until all the panic and duress of the past few days is stripped away. Her expression changes subtly, too -- more emotion creeps in with every minute, and her features soften while she gently strokes her daughter's cheek until the baby girl yawns and her head falls to the side.
"She's beautiful," Ziva murmurs quietly, and Emma blinks and looks at her.
"I guess I did good there." Her smile is weird, torn between awkward realization and beaming with pride.
Ziva swallows around the sudden lump in her throat and steps closer to the hospital bed. Her hands itch suddenly, as if she needs just a little bit more to take home with her than just the photo, and since Emma looks at her almost encouragingly, Ziva reaches out very carefully and runs her index finger over the baby's tiny, tiny hand.
It's just the hint of a touch, barely enough to feel the incredibly soft baby skin underneath her fingertip. Still, the girl suddenly flails in her almost-sleep, and Ziva holds her breath when itty bitty fingers grab hers and refuse to let go again.
"Oh," she breathes out, and Emma laughs.
"Tell me about it."
Ziva blinks, remaining frozen and a little bit in shock, and for a while all she can do is stare at the baby's hand and the chubby fingers holding on to hers. Thoughts spin in her head, but they're gone again the second they form themselves, and she can catch none of them, much less make sense of the sudden emotions coiling up in her belly and confusing her.
It's only later, when Lieutenant Reynolds's doctor tells her that both mother and daughter need some rest now and she should go home herself, that she realizes what exactly has confused her heart and her mind so much.
*** *** ***
He's not home when she arrives at his apartment, and for some reason that leaves her feeling unsettled. It gets worse when she calls him and the first thing she hears is a child's giddy laughter. Her heart beats hard and fast in her throat suddenly, and for a moment she is so sure that he took her advice and went to see Wendy after all that it chokes her and leaves her speechless.
"DiNozzo," he says, and then he laughs while the child squeals into the phone. "Hang on, we have a severe tickling situation going on here..."
It sounds like he puts his phone down on a table, and for a heartbeat the laughter duet rises to new heights. Then Ziva hears her partner's voice while he's talking to the kid, and she can't help it, she presses her phone a little closer to her ear, just so she can understand him better. "Sweetie, I gotta take this. Go play with Uncle Gibbs for a minute, okay?"
It's a girl who answers him, and for a second that leaves Ziva even more confused. Wendy had a son, right?
Then Tony says, very softly, "Hey", and she realizes he's not visiting Wendy. He's with someone else, and even though she doesn't know who it is, Gibbs is with them, so it isn't a date. And maybe she isn't too late after all, because that softness in his voice almost sounds like it's directed at her.
"Am... am I interrupting something?" She hates the hesitancy in her words, but she can't help it. She's still unsettled and nervous, and she wishes madly she could come up with a better way than to actually talk about this.
Tony, of course, hears the waver in her voice, and so he lowers his own. It's just a tiny shift in his timbre, but she knows his whole attention is fixed on her now. And somehow, that makes it even worse.
"No. Gibbs dragged me along, we're with Leyla and Amira. Leyla's a damn good cook, let me tell you." He chuckles, but when Ziva can't come up with an answer that seems appropriate, the amusement trickles out of his voice and more softness creeps in. "Listen, you wanna come over, too? There's plenty of leftovers. I'm pretty sure Leyla won't mind."
"No, I'm... I'm..." She still can't find the right words, and so she falls quiet for a moment. Closes her eyes and rubs her forehead until he says her name softly. "Tony, can we talk?"
Now he's the one not saying anything for a moment, and with each passing breath, with each stumble of her nervous heartbeat thundering through his silence, she gets more nervous. Maybe she will be too late, after all.
"Yeah," he says, and Ziva breathes out slowly. "Yeah, I guess we should do that. Where are you, at my apartment?"
"How--" He laughs, and her frown deepens a little, not because she's angry about his teasing, but because this seems too natural.
"I know you, right?"
He hangs up before she can even try to come up with a reply, and for a moment she just stares at her phone. Then she tucks it away and sits down on the stairs that lead up to the house her partner lives in. She wants to be patient, wants to sit still, and she hates the fact that she can't. That she starts to bite her lip after a while and picks her fingernails and starts to feel so disconcertingly female inside.
He knows her, all right.
She thinks that however long this takes, it will most likely seem like the longest wait of her life.
*** *** ***
"Hey," he greets her and flops down beside her on the stairs, and Ziva jumps a little because she was so lost in her whirling thoughts that she didn't even notice him. She looks at him warily, and for a few moments he doesn't say anything, just watches her face and searches her eyes because, like her, he isn't quite sure what to expect. "What's up, pussycat?"
She feels the almost painful strumming of her pulse at his question. She knows it's a movie quote, but his words still echo between them, and for a moment she's not sure how or even where to begin.
"Did you ever feel like you wanted something," she eventually says, hesitantly, "and then, when you got it, you suddenly found that it was just the foot of the iceberg of what you really needed?"
"Tip," Tony interrupts her and tilts his head. Then he says, "Okay, let's get one thing out of the way." Ziva blinks, not sure what to say, not sure what's going on in his head now, and so she just looks at him until the corner of his mouth quirks up in the messy parody of a reassuring smile. "I think I'm in love with you."
It takes a while until his words really sink in, and when they do, her eyes widen in sudden panic. She wants to run away suddenly. Wants to tell him he shouldn't love her, it won't be good for him, it'll break him and hurt him, because that's what happens to everyone who comes just a little too close. But before she can voice any of these sounds, Tony reaches out and puts his hand over hers, and that keeps her frozen to the spot. His fingers tighten and squeeze her hand when he feels the tension in her, and he lowers his gaze so she doesn't have to meet his eyes anymore.
"And no, I didn't go to see Wendy. I won't, and it doesn't matter how hard you push me away. Not even if you're here to tell me there's no way in hell we can get this sorted out."
She bites her lip again and wishes she had any words to hold back, but she doesn't. She just has an aching heart that beats too hard and too fast and a confused mind that stumbles all over itself and too many thoughts for her own good. And feelings. She has no idea what to reply to a statement of this magnitude, especially coming from him, and so she remains quiet and just stares down at his hand, still squeezing hers and refusing to let go.
"That's not why you're here, right?" he suddenly says, and Ziva flinches and looks up to meet his eyes.
"I don't know," she admits and takes a deep breath. "I talked to Lieutenant Reynolds's doctor today."
His gaze flicks up. His eyes are suddenly a heavy weight on her because the seemingly sudden jump in topics isn't one at all, and he's smart enough to know that. She knows, in turn, that he's waiting for her to spill it, to tell him what this is about, but her throat is all tight again, and it's suddenly incredibly hard to keep going. To keep putting into words what she wants and he probably doesn't and what they need to talk about anyway, just so they both know where they stand. Because assumptions didn't work too well before.
"About what?" he finally asks when she remains stuck, and that sends a soft shudder of defiance through her.
She's not used to this -- to splitting herself wide open until she is at the mercy of someone's reaction. But if there's one person she owes this to, it's Tony. And he, more than anyone else, needs to know this if Ziva wants to have even the slightest chance of... sorting this out, as he called it. Fixing it.
"About... the fact that I think one day I would like to have a family. One that's more than just the man I l--love." She chokes on the word, and he pretends not to notice, and that's when her mind spins a little and she acknowledges for the very first time he might just be that man. "And... and the fact this won't be exactly... easy in my case."
She falls silent and waits for his reaction, even though she is almost certain what kind of response she will get. She just skipped a few important steps in their relationship, after all -- even the very basic one of actually becoming a couple. She is way ahead of both of them, because she still isn't sure either of them is ready to even be with the other. And now, now she's already talking about being a parent and thinking about a future before the present is even settled, and the mere thought alone is more frightening than any gun pointed at her head ever was.
She still has to do this, though. Has to figure this out and come to terms with what she wants and how she wants her life to be before it is too late.
Tony is quiet for a long while, and she's not sure what he thinks until he says, very gently, just to nudge her a little, "And what did the good doctor say?"
Her lips tighten before she can help it; her mouth turns into a thin line for a moment. Then she turns her head and chances a look at Tony, and to her surprise he isn't all that tense, and he's not angry, not annoyed. His eyes are wide, though, and she's pretty sure that right now he's just as nervous as she is, for just the same reasons.
He lowers his eyes and avoids meeting hers, and while his lips twitch and a soft smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, he looks down at their hands. Then he suddenly slides his fingers under hers, between them, so he really holds her hand now, and Ziva blinks and watches him do that quietly, at a loss for words.
"He says that I am most likely very lucky," she finally murmurs. The words are still hard to get out, even though she no longer feels quite as confused. "They used a method with... with clips instead of cu-- cutting anything, and that has the best chances of being reversed. The success rate is almost seventy percent."
"Huh," he says quietly, lost in thought. "That sounds pretty good." His thumb strokes the mound of her hand, and the sensation makes her heart flutter a little. God, he should really stop this. She can't think straight when he does it. "Did you make an appointment?"
"Uhm... not yet."
"You should."
"Tony," she says and takes a deep breath, and he reacts to the way she says his name and raises his eyes to look at her. He's so warm and soft suddenly, all smile and genuine affection, and her mind stumbles for a heartbeat. And yes, just like that she forgets she actually wants to scold him.
Instead, she tilts her head and says with a confused little smile, "You do realize this was your cue to run screaming, yes?"
He barks out a round of laughter. Shakes his head. Smiles some more at her while he gives her a shrug. "Naw, sweetheart, you're too late for that. I faced my biggest fear already."
She's not sure what he means by that, but she doesn't get the chance to ask because he feels her hesitation and the way she's still torn between trust and love and the person she was not too long ago -- the woman who shut people out and never let them come close, for her own sake and theirs.
"Listen," he says and meets her eyes squarely. He tugs at her hand, and she knows he wants to say more, wants to say more things she's not ready to hear yet. And so, just this once, she is the one who takes action. Who leans towards him and presses her lips to his. She's almost a little desperate as she eats his mouth, and maybe she started this to shut him up at first. But then he returns the kiss, and his mouth is warm and soft, and he knows her so well that she can't help but fall for him, again.
His free hand comes up to her cheek now, slides to her neck, and she can't help the whimper that crawls out of her throat as he drags her closer. She's not sure how he does that -- how he conjures up a need in her that is almost frightening in its intensity, with just a simple touch like that. But it doesn't matter all that much, because she suddenly finds that she doesn't have the strength to fight this anymore, and she can't let all of these emotions go to waste. It's rare enough to have them, for someone like her. She might never get another chance.
She still tears her mouth from his, even though it takes an effort and even though his pulse is all over the place now, just like hers. And he doesn't really stop kissing her. He keeps running his lips along her cheek bones and presses soft butterfly kisses to her temple, until Ziva's head spins and she has to lean against his shoulder to steady herself.
"I'm sorry," she says, and he laughs and kisses her some more.
"For what? You want to run off again now?" he chuckles, but when she doesn't answer right away he pulls back and looks at her more closely. "Ziva, I swear, I will handcuff you to--"
"No!" She winces because his hand tightens around hers while he tenses up. He doesn't even realize it. "It's just... I didn't plan on this."
Tony sighs and pulls back so he can get a good look at her, and the way he searches her face suddenly makes her very nervous. "Doesn't mean we didn't need to talk about it," he says eventually.
For a moment she is confused by the double negative, but there's that smile he sometimes gives her, the one that's not his loud, intrusive charmer's smile, but rather the one that always seems to be just for her alone. The one that holds emotion and warmth and a bucketload of intimacy. It's that smile, really, that special intimacy more than anything else which assures her they will figure this out, eventually, even if it means more talking.
And she realizes with a start she wants to figure it out. She's not sure about how this will play out, or what timeframe they are talking about or if they'll even talk about it at all or just do it at some point. Some point when they'll both know it's the right moment and the right year and the right amount of intimacy between them.
Right now, though, she catches him staring at her mouth, lost in thought, and she thinks that maybe -- just maybe -- they can get a bit of the most urgent confusion sorted out right away by more kissing. Things always seem to be so much clearer when he kisses her. Much simpler.
It's like he heard that thought of hers louder than any words she could have uttered.
*** *** ***
It would have, as Tony likes to put it, scared the shit out of both of them if they had realized at that point it wouldn't even take them a year until the time was just right.
*** *** ***
The best laid schemes of Mice and Men
oft go awry.
~ Robert Burns, "To a Mouse"