Because I refuse to accept the reality we have been presented with and will forever live in my delusional land of Tiva bliss. Nothing new here. Just another reunion fic to throw in the already overflowing pot.
The glow of the Parisian sunset surrounds her as she leans her elbows casually upon the café table. With her gaze toward crowded avenue, she doesn't notice his approach, allowing him a moment to study her. Her features no longer appear marred by guilt and grief. The peace she had so desperately sought when he left her on that tarmac so long ago must have finally found a home in her spirit. And despite the immense pain that remains lodged in his heart at the time they have lost, there is also great relief. Because perhaps now they can move forward. Together.
It is the soft mew of the slumbering child in the stroller that draws her attention from the bustle of the streets. She would know that sleep-induced whimper anywhere. A gentle smile pulls at the corners of her lips as she extends her hand to brush across the little girl's curls before drifting her eyes toward the man hovering above.
"I was not sure if you would remember."
"How could I forget our night in Paris?" he croons, sliding into the chair across from his old partner. "The picture was a pretty good give-away too. I'm an investigator, remember? I'm no Nancy Drew, but you couldn't have possibly underestimated my sleuthing skills that much." The words tumble out before he registers his error. He's not an investigator anymore.
The smile tugs at her lips again, but her expression is wary, cautious. How can she possibly explain?
"Why did you keep her from me?"
She sighs. The inevitable question.
His eyes search her face for answers. He had never had any trouble before. Reading her eyes had become second nature after eight years of partnership. But now he isn't so sure. Have time and distance dulled his Ziva Sense? How could she possibly rationalize her omission? Because the Ziva he knew never would have kept something like this from him. Because no matter how independent she saw herself, she would have questioned her abilities – how a person who, in her own eyes, had done nothing but take lives could possibly bring a life into this world. And she would have wanted him by her side.
"I did not wish to burden you. And I still needed time to… find peace within myself." It is a weak justification, and she knows it.
"You know me, Ziva. I would have been there for you. I deserved the chance to be part of her life from the beginning."
His voice strains under the weight of withheld tears and disappointment. Her heart aches in kind. The moments that could have been flash before her: his joy as he heard their baby's heartbeat for the first time; his hand clutched in hers as she delivered their child into this world after enduring twenty-three hours of labor; his pride as he watched their toddler take her first wobbly steps toward his outstretched arms; his smile as he first heard 'Abba' flow from the lips of their little angel. She regrets so much.
"I know. And I will forever be sorry that I took that opportunity away from you."
"I'm angry with you."
"I understand. I never expected you to welcome me back with open arms."
"But when we saw the fire on the news, I thought…" His voice chokes. "I thought I had lost you again."
Her warm hand comes to grip his cool fingers from across the table. "You cannot get rid of me that easily, Anthony DiNozzo."
The abrupt horn of a Vespa pulls their attention as it swerves around a group of inattentive tourists loitering off the curb beyond their table before silence falls between them. What more can possibly be said to ease this pain?
They both stare at the slumbering child between them, their child, their daughter, he muses, still in awe.
"She looks just like you."
"She has your eyes… " she counters and pauses, "and your heart. It made our… separation… easier- to have a part of you still with me."
Her words hurt. He was not granted the same gift. "That head of curls is gonna be a nightmare to wrangle into braids once she's older." A joke to disguise the sorrow.
A chuckle escapes, and oh how he has missed her laugh. "I think we will manage."
From the stroller, Tali begins to stir restlessly as she attempts to draw open sleep-heavy eyelids with the rub of her tiny fists. Her scrunched brows of confusion at her foreign surroundings are the spitting image of her mother's, and her eyes determinedly search for a mark of familiarity. After countless airports and cities within the past three weeks, she is in desperate need of a home. Something permanent.
Her face brightens at the sight of the woman who, until three weeks ago, she had never been apart from. "Ima!" Outstretched arms beg for appeasement, and her mother indulges with haste, moving to cradle her tenderly to her chest. His hand is dropped in the process, and he immediately longs for a reconnection and the reassurance of her touch.
"I have missed you so much, tateleh. Has your abba been taking good care of you, hmm?" Their reunion draws a smile to his face as they nuzzle close, Tali's curls becoming lost in the sea of her mother's as she buries her head into the crook of Ziva's neck.
"You told her about me."
"I always wanted her to know her father." Through the sincerity of her gaze, he feels himself begin to take a step toward forgiveness.
"I quit." His statement draws her questioning stare. "NCIS," he clarifies. "I wanna fill the family cup now."
Furrowed brows signal her incomprehension, and she wonders if perhaps her English has become rusty since her time abroad and she has forgotten one of his American colloquialisms.
"It's a Gibbs thing," he shrugs, as if that is all the explanation needed. And it is. She nods.
"What will you do next?"
"Well according to the parenting magazine I was reading on the flight over, being a father is a full time job." He attempts to ignore the hint of surprise that crosses her face and the ache that flares in his gut as a consequence. She couldn't possibly think he was planning on walking away from this, from them, his girls. "Guess I thought I've been Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo for thirteen years. Maybe it's time I try a new title. Think 'Dad' suits me?"
His feigned bravado makes an attempt to mask his insecurities, as he questions if he is capable of handling the enormous responsibilities of parenthood. But he is right, she knows him. He can do this. He will be everything both of their fathers were not. He will love and care for their little girl unconditionally.
"I have no doubt."
"I'm not leaving this time, Ziva. You and me, we're kinda a package deal- with the added bonus of this little one." He has left so much behind, but what he is gaining will fill his life with more joy and adoration than he can possibly imagine.
"I do not want her to experience the same sorrows that I have. I want her to know nothing but happiness and laughter in this world."
"She will."
Because despite the hurdles they undoubtedly have left to cross, they will shower their daughter with love every day, and they will figure things out. Because they have always been inevitable.
This is the only ending I will accept for them. I haven't written anything in over two years. My Tiva heart aches with a pain that can never be remedied. Enjoy my delusional musings! She's alive.