note: Hey guys! This is just a tiny little thing because it's Mother's Day. It's not actually Mother's Day here, but I figured, why not? What happens to the kid in this, happened to me when I was younger, actually. But I was 9 weeks old. This is pretty rough, I only had the idea like two hours ago, so thanks to Jess for the help with this one. Enjoy. And, of course, happy Mother's Day!
disclaimer: Not mine.
"Tony." she murmurs, reaching out and poking her husband's arm lightly. "Tony, wake up."
He only grunts in return, and swats an invisible fly from in front of his face.
"Daddy they got food!"
Ziva hears the air hostess giggling quietly to her right as Tony's head shoots up promptly, arms flailing out as he slurs something incoherent.
"Breakfast is served, my love."
She takes the hot food tray from the hostess, wrangling it past the bouncing child on her lap.
"I told you, Mia, if you want to sit with me you'll have to be still, yes?"
Her daughter, naturally, squirms more.
"Oh, I can take her if you want to eat your breakfast in peace. Just walk her up and down the aisle?"
Ziva turns in surprise to the blonde woman at her side, taking in the broad grin she sends. Mia is squealing with delight at the idea, it seems, and one look to Tony assures her she can trust the girl with her.
"That would be very helpful, thank you. We will only be five minutes."
"Got it. You wanna come walk with me, sweetie?"
Mia practically jumps off her lap and takes the hostess' outstretched hand. Ziva can hear her daughter's proud exclamation that she's three and a quarter as they walk away.
"Ahhh, quiet. I've missed that." Tony whispers into her neck, apparently having shifted closer.
"If you think I'm kissing you you're wrong. And your breath stinks. Eat your bacon before your daughter comes back and decides she wants it all."
Though Ziva's ears have been tuned to her daughter's voice ever since she left, she's still a little surprised to hear the squeals of "Mommy, mommy, look!" along with quick, light footsteps coming from behind her. Turning her head round, she gasps.
Mia, though still with the same wild brown curls and light lilac dress, has somehow acquired the majority of the duty free make-up cart, and decorated her face. Pink lipstick is smudged round her mouth; purple eyeshadow is dotted across most of her forehead; deep brown powder lines one of her cheeks.
Initial shock gone, Ziva can't help but laugh as her daughter toddles closer.
"I think we got a little carried away, hey Mia?" the air hostess says a little nervously, walking behind the child.
"Am I pretty, Mommy?" Mia asks, an earnest smile on her face.
"You are always pretty, my love. But you do look very beautiful."
"What's goin' on?" comes a voice from her side, and Ziva ushers her child closer, scooping her up so Tony can see. A thick scented fog fills her nostrils, and she can only assume the perfume tray was also raided.
"Oh look at you, Princess!"
Tony's voice is strangled somewhat, and Ziva knows her husband is likely more stunned than she is.
"D'you like it?"
Ziva plants a kiss to her daughter's hair as she wriggles in her arms.
"I think you look great, Mia."
The air hostess coughs, clearly taking the opportunity to speak whilst Tony converses with the little girl.
"I'm so sorry, she kinda tricked my colleagues into doing it. I turned my back for just a moment and—"
"It is fine, really. Thank you for taking her off our hands for a little while."
She smiles.
"No problem."
The hostess walks away as Ziva shifts her daughter on her lap, trying not to inhale the fumes of Dior or Chanel.
"Oh, Mia Principessa. What are we going to do with you?"
"Mm?" their daughter murmurs, brushing hair out her face while looking up, eyes wide.
"Nothing, my love, nothing."
Seemingly accepting of this, she plants a sloppy kiss to her mother's cheek.
"Okay. I love you, Mommy."
"I love you too, Mia."