Hey whaddya know, my 40th fic. Heh.
I started this a while ago but left it unfinished. When Michael Weatherly tweeted last week, to announce the arrival of his daughter, I had inspiration again, and a name for the child featured in this fic, which I didn't have before. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: you know you're obsessed with NCIS when you hate Twilight but decide you're Team Edward just because Tony said he was.
Listening to: Slide (Pride), by Goo Goo Dolls feat. Elmo.
For Olivia Weatherly. I hope your life rocks.
"Hey Olivia..." he says to the quiet, wide-eyed baby in his arms. "Mommy's sleeping right now. Doesn't she look cute?"
He turns and moves the child lightly, in order for her to face her sleeping mother.
Ziva's tucked up, her hair splayed out across the pillow where it isn't sticking to her forehead, looking impossibly beautiful.
"Hmm. You're a typical DiNozzo, aren't cha? We don't stick to schedules. Made me cancel all my plans, your Mom gave me a heart attack over the phone..." he trails off, once again lost in the shining blue eyes of his daughter- which he suspects will turn green-, as she reaches out and holds his finger with her tiny little hand.
"Wow."
She's so perfect.
Healthy, with a small tuft of dark hair on her head to go against those great big eyes of hers.
Quiet, with a mischievous glint to her demeanor even just hours after her entering this world.
Adorable, with a look on her face that suggests she's still rather stunned.
All of it moves him to tears. Again.
Because he cried when they found out Ziva was expecting, despite being shocked and needing some air for a while. And he cried when he saw his daughter for the first time, even though she was on a screen and they didn't know she wasa she. And he cried when he turned up just in time to see his child brought into the world.
"I know I say DiNozzo men don't cry," he says with a sniff, "but they do. And you might be a DiNozzo too, but you're part David, so you can cry all you want.
"When your Mommy was growing up, she was told it was bad to cry. And she kept everything inside, because she thought she was meant to. 'Cept now, she knows it's okay. I like to think I helped her learn that."
Olivia's eyes are still fixed intently on his, but she yawns regardless and Tony can't help but smile.
"Ha, you're all tired out, sweetie. C'mon, sleep now."
He frees his finger and lays his daughter back down in her crib.
"Night, Olivia. Buona Notte, Laila Tov. Ooh, languages are gonna be tricky." Making a content noise, he leans down to give his child the gentlest of kisses- just brushing his lips by her forehead-, murmuring the words 'Big Kiss' when he strokes her cheek.
As he stands, he turns his attention to the bed, where his wife sits open-eyed and smiling.
"Hey."
"You are very good with her." she replies, nodding toward the crib.
Not sure how to reply to that, Tony settles for sitting down by Ziva's side and looking at the snoozing little girl.
"She's pretty quiet." he observes, not diverting his gaze.
"Mm. That probably will not last." his wife replies, the smile evident even in her words causing Tony to smile too. He sits back in his chair and closes his eyes, attempting to get mildly comfortable in the plastic seat.
Just as sleep begins to claim him, a quiet cry rings out and he sits bolt-upright with a groan. Standing, he walks to the crib and picks up the wailing Olivia.
Parenthood begins.
