Chapter Text
Jogging up the stairs, Tony downed the last of his coffee, throwing the empty cup into his own trashcan with impressive accuracy.
Just his luck, the first weekend in months that they had off, and he had to come into the office to finish paperwork. Of course, it was entirely his own fault, as HR had delivered the packet weeks ago, and he had been ignoring it ever since.
Either way, Tony was almost free. He could practically feel the cold beer that would soon be in his hand, perhaps paired with a classic or whatever game he could find on TV.
He bounded down the winding hallways, finally feeling stress-free after the recent slew of difficult cases. It was a sentiment he saw on the face of everyone he passed, as they smiled to each other. Even with the weekend crew working as normal, the building seemed far emptier than normal.
His brain conjured the image of the building, naturally in cartoon form, reclining on a lounger and enjoying a nice quiet weekend. He chuckled until he was distracted by a far-off conversation, echoing around the next corner.
Tony was surprised to hear Vance's voice, as he normally spent the weekends with his kids, but it seemed like the Director was in a good mood. There was a certain, teasing tone to his voice that was rarely heard in the office.
"You know, if you ever come back to the States, I'll hire you back in a heartbeat."
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure everyone would be happy to work with me again."
He knew that voice.
Even as the rational, far more practical part of his brain reminded him that she was on the other world, nowhere near D.C. and certainly not the Naval Yard, the desperately hopeful voice insisted that he knew that voice.
Sure enough, Tony rounded the corner, and he laid eyes on the owner.
Ziva.
She was there. After a year, she was standing directly in his path, her gorgeous face light up as she grinned at Director Vance. Her hair was loose and curly, exactly as he last saw it.
In hindsight it probably wasn't the smartest idea, but Tony couldn't help but move towards her, feeling that indescribable draw that was so her.
At the sound of his footsteps, she turned, the smile falling off her face as her mouth fell open in an 'Oh'.
In a moment, he had enveloped her his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. For a heart-wrenching moment, she simply froze, wrapped in him. But eventually shifted, bringing up her arms to hug him back. He could feel the warmth of her body radiating through him.
"You're here….I can't believe it." He pulled away, one hand brushing a few strands of hair out of her face, while the other stayed firmly on her waist. "You came back..."
But Ziva didn't meet his eyes, instead staying focused on his shoulder.
Vance spoke up, breaking the slight tension, "Ziva’s been able to provide us with some excellent intelligence.”
Tony whipped his head around in surprise, having pretty much forgotten that the Director was there. "Really? About what?”
Ziva took a determined step back from him, sighing heavily, "it is a long story."
"Well, you can tell it to me over lunch," Tony grinned. He gestured with the papers in his hand, "I just have to drop this off to Delores."
Ziva seemed to struggle with this proposal, stuttering slightly as she tried to formulate a response. She glanced at Vance, prompting him to place a gentle hand on her arm.
"You have the conference room as long as you need it," he told her.
She nodded resolutely, seemingly steeling her nerves as she turned to Tony, determinately watching him.
"Will you meet me there?"
There wasn't even a question. He would follow her anywhere.
"Give me two minutes."
As much as he'd rather never let Ziva out of his sight again, he forced himself to walk past her, hurrying down the hallway.
Delores greeted him with a smile when he knocked on her door. He handed over his paperwork, thanking her profusely and doing his best to appear at ease and not-at-all desperate to leave as soon as possible. After he promised to be better with the next round of forms, he managed to peel away, waving his farewell as he rounded the corner.
But when he was alone, Tony stopped to lean his head against the wall. He tried to control his breathing, but his mind was still racing a thousand miles a minute.
Over the last year, he had dreamed about when he would see Ziva again, imagining a million possibilities of how they would reunite. He had pictured her on his doorstep, handing him a Christmas present and asking if she could stay the night. Imagined walking into the NCIS office to find her sitting at her old desk. He had even considered, on more than one occasion, taking the first flight he could find to Tel Aviv and refusing to leave her side ever again.
In another week it would be a full year since he had last seen her, standing on the tarmac, watching him board the plane home. She had been so determined to close herself off to him, to everyone. He had begged, but in the end, Tony had to respect Ziva's decisions. So, he had gotten on the plane and left her behind.
But she was here.
Surely her willingness to visit NCIS was a sign that something had changed?
Was it too much to hope that the change could include him?
Tony pushed himself off the wall, feeling a wave of warmth seeping through his chest. The hallways were a blur as he raced through them, trying his best not to knock over the few people he passed by. He pushed open the silver door of the conference room, which thumped against the wall with the force of his enthusiasm.
Ziva was sat across from the door, turned sideways in her chair and her attention on something behind the adjacent chair. She tensed at the sound of his entrance, but didn't look up at him.
Trying not to appear completely desperate to be with her, he approached the table, sliding into a chair on the opposite side from her.
"So?" he asked jovially. “What’s the plan?”
She shifted uncomfortably, with the same nervous energy she had when they were standing in the hallway. "There is someone you should meet."
He glanced around the room, but they were alone. "Who?"
Ziva slowly stood, pushing something around the edge of the table, towards him.
His eyes fell on a stroller, where a baby was fast asleep.
"This is Tali," she said simply.
From the back recess of his mind, a memory floated into his consciousness. The two of them, laughing on the sofa as the Forrest Gump credits rolled.
“Is there a Forrest Gump Jr. movie?”
“You know what, there should be.”
She smiled at him, “it was sweet of her to give to give their son his name.”
"Oh yeah it's really cute, at least for this generation."
“You are a ‘Junior’. You do not want to continue the tradition?”
“Nah. The world does not need an 'Anthony DiNozzo the Third'".
"Fair enough I suppose, but what about naming you child after someone else?”
“Like who?”
“Tali.”
He placed his hand over hers. "It's a good name."
Tony blinked wildly, his focusing shifting back and forth between them.
"You had a baby?" he asked.
"She is just over three months old."
Years ago, Ziva had shown him a few photos of herself as a baby. This one looked like a photocopy, but her dusting of hair seemed lighter.
He could do the math himself, but the terrified look on Ziva's face confirmed it all.
This was his baby.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She pulled a new chair out, so she could sit down next to him. She began to rub her hands over her thighs. "I don't know... I was scared and lonely, and I just couldn't."
"Then why?"
Her forehead creased in confusion, "why what?"
Tony's hand flew around, indicating their surroundings. "Why did you come back? To NCIS. You fly across the world with the child I didn't know existed, and yet your first stop is the Director's office?"
She retreated slightly, her arms crossing over her chest. “I know important information about an NCIS suspect. I needed to speak with Director Vance before I dealt with…. anything personal."
"I think this is a little more than personal." He felt a flare of anger consume his chest and he pushed away from the table, feeling the need to move.
“Tony-”
"Just tell me, did you ever plan on letting me know we have a child together?”
Ziva pressed her lips together in a tight line, evidentially considering her response. When his back was turned, he heard her utter the faintest, "I don't know."
Tony felt like he had been punched in the chest repeatedly while running a marathon. He tried to organize his thoughts, but nothing was making any sense. After everything they had been through together…
"I am so sorry, Tony. I should not have kept this from you. You are right to be angry with me."
But the Ziva he knew would never have betrayed him like this.
"You know, it's funny," he spat, spinning on heel to face her. "All this time, I've felt like I left a piece of me in Israel, turns out I was right."
Part of him felt bad, knowing he was responsible for the tears that were very quickly threatening to overflow from Ziva’s eyes, but she had said it herself, he was justifiably angry.
The room was feeling horribly claustrophobic and restricting, even as he moved erratically around the room. His eyes kept falling on the sleeping child.
“You know what, I need to get out of here.”
“Wait-”
She reached for his arm but he pulled it away roughly before she could make contact.
“No. You don't get to make any more decisions for me.”
Ziva looked as if he had slapped her. His venom had obviously shot straight to her heart.
He gave her one last icy look that riveled the worst Gibbs could throw out, then pulled the door open again. There was a slight sob as it swung closed, but Tony let himself be carried away by his confusion and hurt.
He made it out of the Navy Yard in record time, but he didn't dare count how many times he looked back.