The prompt was "sending Christmas cards" and this is what I came up with.
Tony had timed his arrival perfectly – he'd ensured that Noah was napping while Lena was at school, and as he stepped into the door, his arms burdened with the weight of Christmas presents meant to be hidden – and later, wrapped – he noted that Ziva was sitting at the dining room table with a glass of wine.
At 11AM on a Tuesday.
"Ziva?" He asked, hoping that she would catch his meaning despite not having asked an actual question. She turned briefly, eyeing the huge bags of toys and other objects that she'd sent him to get, giving him a slight smile before taking another sip of her wine and rubbing her forehead in frustration.
"Put those away, Tony, Noah should wake up any minute," she directed, and Tony was taken aback by her snappiness. What was it that had his wife stressed out this time, he wondered? Not wanting to argue, he walked swiftly to the basement, stepping downstairs to where they'd always kept their stash of Christmas goodies.
One day, he was sure, one of the kids would discover their hiding place, but for now it seemed the most logical spot. Tony busied himself with putting everything away, hidden off in a corner behind some storage boxes, so that if the kids happened to come down here for any reason, they wouldn't notice anything unusual. Not without digging through a bunch of crap from their old apartments.
We really should donate some of this stuff to Goodwill and fix up this basement, he thought for perhaps the millionth time. It would be nice to have an additional space, not that their house wasn't big enough, because they had plenty of room, but just because there could never be too many living spaces.
Once he was satisfied that everything was well hidden, he took the steps back up to the main floor, turning off the light and shutting the basement door as he re-emerged. He opened the fridge and grabbed himself a soda, looking pointedly at Ziva sitting at the table nursing her glass of wine.
She was paying him no attention whatsoever. He picked up his can of soda, cracking it open and taking a swig before walking to the dining room table and sitting down, seeing nothing short of chaos spread across it – perhaps four dozen pictures of the family, all strewn about as Ziva looked at each one critically, looking more and more stressed at each photograph she examined.
"Ziva?" He said again, more tentatively, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze.
"All of these pictures have a flaw. The Christmas photos are supposed to be flawless. We cannot send any of these, Tony." She finally looked at him, and he could see the desperation in her eyes. How many years had they been married now, and Ziva was still stressing about the holidays? He admired that she wanted everything to be perfect, but when would she understand that just having her near was all he needed for the holidays to be perfect?
Picking up a photograph at random, he looked at it, seeing nothing wrong. "What's wrong with this one?" he asked, holding it up and showing it to her, cringing at the offended scowl that crossed her face.
"Really? You do not see Noah's middle finger sticking up?"
Tony stifled the laugh he knew better than to let out. "He's a toddler. No one will think that he's really flipping off the camera. Now if it were Lena, perhaps we might have some cause for concern, but Noah?" In spite of herself, Ziva smiled slightly, but her smile was quickly replaced by her eyes narrowing and her brow furrowing in annoyance.
"No Tony, we cannot send that one," she insisted.
Ziva was being stubborn, and Tony couldn't help the sigh that passed from his lips. "Okay, what about this one?"
She glanced at the photo and then looked at him with disgust. "With your eyes half shut?"
"No one's going to be looking at me," he offered in self-deprecation, but it went unnoticed.
"Tony, you look like you're drunk. 'Happy Holidays from the DiNozzo's, daddy's a drunk!'"
Tony suppressed another sigh, though he couldn't argue that he did look a little inebriated in that photo. "Fair enough, I suppose I do look like I've had a few. This one maybe?" He handed up another photo, one where the kids seemed to be playing rather than posing for a photo.
"Lena's sticking her tongue out at her brother in that one. Tony, do you not get it? We must look like the picture-perfect family. That is how the Christmas cards are supposed to look."
"But we're not." Ziva's brow narrowed further and Tony began to fear that she might return to her violent tendencies of years gone by. "Listen to me, Ziva. All these things, they're normal. We're a normal, happy family full of functional, imperfect people. So what if Noah's fishing for a booger in this one, or Lena's got her hand in her armpit in this one? Those are things that kids do. You know what's important?"
Ziva shook her head, her expression softening somewhat. When he didn't continue right away, she looked at him pointedly, urging him to go on. "We're all smiling, Ziva. Noah's really happy he got that booger."
She couldn't stop the amused snort that came from her nose, and she immediately reacted by covering her face, mortified. Only Tony could make her laugh at a booger joke.
"And look," he went on, "Lena's having a great time sticking her tongue out at her brother. You're smiling and happy because we have this beautiful family, and I'm happy because I have you to share it with. So what if we don't look like one of those families in a magazine? They're probably boring."
Ziva's anger had all but evaporated, giving way to a softer expression as she listened to her husband, unable to suppress the smile his words drew from her. "Okay Tony, I see your point, but we are still not sending the one with Noah's finger up his nose."
He smirked. "I'm okay with that. But look at this one. So what if Lena's standing up and laughing, and Noah's face is all scrunched up. They're happy. We're happy."
"We are," she agreed, leaning toward him to peck him lightly on the lips.
"If we sent a picture of all four of us sitting and facing forward, smiling serenely for the camera, that just wouldn't be us. We're not those people," he added, reaching for her hand and giving it another squeeze.
"No, we are not. We are wild, loud, and often destructive, but we are certainly not serene," she mused, shaking her head. Her kids had all gotten her husband's playful nature and her own stubborn streak, which often meant that chaos reigned supreme. There was never, ever a dull moment in their house.
"So let's send this one," Tony said, holding up a picture for Ziva's perusal. "Everyone is smiling, at least, and this is the true spirit of the DiNozzo family, isn't it? Laughter and love?"
Ziva inspected the photo and noted that all of them were smiling, looking – to the world – like the happiest family ever. How she hadn't seen this before was completely beyond her understanding, but Tony was right. "Yes," she agreed, feeling an overwhelming surge of love for her husband in that moment. She smiled as she stood up, taking the photo from his hands. "Now to go have dozens of copies printed so that we can send them out." Hopefully in time for Christmas, she mused, but didn't want to worry Tony with that.
Tony stood up beside her, taking the photo back from her calmly. "I'll take this to the shop. How many do we need?"
"Thirty," she replied, and she leaned forward to give him a kiss, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as she pulled him close, feeling an overwhelming urge to hold him for an undetermined amount of time. He backed her against the wall, kissing her hungrily, almost regretting having to pull away and not finish what he'd started. Maybe later, he mused, and the look in Ziva's eyes, that subtle smirk, told him that she'd been thinking the same. "Go," she instructed, adding, "And pick Lena up from school. I'll have a late lunch ready for everyone when you get home."
"I knew there was a reason I married you," he joked, and she smacked his cheek lightly before giving him another quick kiss and shoving him out the door.