One Shot Series Title- Parenthood
One Shot title- tough questions
Summary: Collin, now five years old, asks his father some tough questions. Better than it sounds.
Terry was in the garage, working on his truck, a black 1994 Ford Bronco. His last two vehicles had been destroyed in work related incidents and he was proud of the fact he'd managed to hang onto this one for five years. Heard the garage door open, but didn't turn around. He knew who it was. Seconds later a car door opened and two sets of little feet coming toward him. He dropped the wrenched and turned around, a grin on his face.
"Daddy!" Four year old Kelly and five year old Collin shouted in unison.
"Hey, guys." Terry said, bending at the waist picking up each child his arms.
"Did you have a good day at school, princess?"
Though Kelly only went to daycare, she had informed Terry and Ziva one night at dinner that she went to 'school' just like her brother and cousin.
"Uh-huh." She said, giving her father a gapped toughed grin that melted his heart every time he saw it. "We painted fingers."
"You mean finger painted." He gently corrected, laughing.
Kelly nodded. "Uh-huh. That too." Terry chuckled.
"What about you champ? Did you have a good day?" He asked Collin.
"Yeah, I got my first homework assignment." The second grader said, proudly.
"You did?" Terry asked. "They never gave us homework when I was in second grade."
"But daddy tat was wike a milliondy years ago." Kelly said, giggling.
"You calling me old?" Terry asked, hurt on his face.
"Why don't you tell daddy what your homework is, honey?" Ziva said, joining the conversation. She loved to watch her husband with their children. It never ceased to amaze her that someone so schooled in violence and all manner of killing could be so gentle.
"I have to interview someone I respect about their job." Collin said.
Terry raised his eyebrows. "That sounds interesting. Who are you going to interview?"
Collin rolled his eyes; sometimes parents were so silly. "You, silly!"
Ziva stepped forward and took her daughter from her husband. "Come on, Kelly. Why don't we go make dinner and let the men talk, ok?"
Collin grinned, proud that his mom considered him a 'man'. "Ok, mommy." Kelly said, and mother and daughter went into the house.
Terry walked to a work bench, set Collin on it and went to a sink to wash his hands. Then he turned his attention to his son. "So, what do you want to know bud?"
Collin had pulled a sheet of paper from his backpack and studied it. Then he asked his first question. "Did you always work at NCIS?"
Terry shook his head. "No, I was in the army for thirteen years."
Terry watched as his son wrote, in as neat a script as he could manage, in army, 13 years.
"What did you do?"
Terry rubbed his goatee and thought best how to tell a seven year old that for thirteen years he'd been a hunter and killer of terrorist. Finally an idea came to him. "I was in special forces for three years and then I was in Delta force for six year, two years as a sniper and four as an operator."
Collin wrote all this down with wide eyes. "That sounds neat."
Terry nodded. "It was."
"Do you have any picture or stuff I could take for show and tell so the other kids don't think I made it up?" Collin asked.
Terry nodded. "Sure do. Follow me." He said, smiling and lifting Collin of the counter. But his son's next words stopped him cold. "Dad, you're the coolest! I'm gonna have the best project ever!"
As they went inside, Terry wipe his eyes to cover the tears that had begun to form and covered himself by saying, "Don't let your mom hear that."