Disclaimer: I own nothing related to NCIS. OBVIOUSLY.
He hangs his coat in the closet, gun and badge in the safe, keys on the hook near the closet door. The same routine each night, although he is usually home in time to be greeted at the door by his daughter running head first into his legs. Tonight, the house is quiet. The only light is coming from the open door of the bathroom down the hall. He heads toward the light, and the small voice he can hear as he makes his way past the stairs.
He finds his wife standing in the shadow of the hall, just before the bathroom. She turns at his approach, his ever watchful ninja. She smiles at him with amused eyes as her finger comes up to silence him. "Just peek in before you say anything," she says in a whisper. He gives her a wayward smile before stepping around her toward the opening to the bathroom.
He spies his daughter, sitting on the toilet with a book in hand, reciting the story she's surely memorized. Her hair is a curly mess, and the remnants of tonight's dinner are stuck to her shirt. His grin stretches from ear to ear, as he pulls back to stand in front of his wife.
"Nugget on a mission?" he says with an amused tone. His wife nods conspiratorially as she pushes off the wall in his direction.
She steps forward to rest her head on her husband's chest. His arms come up to wrap around her, one hand rubbing circles on her back. She feels the familiar thrill run through her at her husband's touch, and encircles her arms around his waist tightly.
"Potty training has been…"she starts, then stops in a hushed tone that queues him into the struggle her days have been recently.
"Difficult?" he offers, his voice sincere and understanding.
She snorts lightly as she rubs her cheek against his chest. "To say the least."
He hadn't planned for this moment to turn serious. The time spent as her partner, husband, and father of her child have given him a unique understanding of how her emotions morph, how happiness and contentment can give way so quickly to self-doubt. He continues to rub her back slowly, trying as always to be her anchor.
She whispers quietly, as her grip tightens around him, "I had not anticipated the difficulty. The challenges of parenting are sometimes greater than I had expected. I have read the books, tried the techniques, and still find that I question myself constantly."
"I'm not sure that will ever go away, Ziva." He feels her tense against him, but he only holds her tighter. "I feel the same," he whispers into her hair. "I question myself, too. But we're doing OK. She's healthy and happy. So, she's a little behind on the potties-are-your-friend thing. She'll get it."
She pulls back slightly to press a kiss to his jaw. He presses a kiss to her temple, taking in a deep breath before looking down at her. He finds her dark brown eyes glassy and her face open and warm. "There is so great a power in being a parent, Tony. I cannot help but wonder, especially in these small moments, how a mother or father could ever choose to abuse it. To love her is the greatest privilege you or I have ever been given. But to be loved by her is…" She stops, searching his now glassy eyes for the word to describe what is indescribable.
"Awe-inspiring," he offers in a hushed, reverent tone. She smiles as he brings a hand up to cup her face, thumb brushing the tears that threaten to fall from just under her eye. He leans down and presses a kiss to her lips, loving and kind.
A delighted squeal of "Ima! Come 'ere!" breaks through their quiet reverie. The two burst into laughter, turning into each other's arms for a tight, celebratory hug before heading into the bathroom to praise their daughter's efforts.
Author's Note: just a quick drabble that stems from a photo reblog on tumblr. I'm still getting used to writing T/Z so please be kind. Thanks!