Tony had always known Ziva's weaknesses. The things that pushed her buttons, the things that hurt, the things that drove her crazy. Admittedly, some of them he played to. He let the kids stay up late to watch a movie when she was working, and blindly denied knowing why they were almost late for school the next day. He ate the last of the ice cream, and left the tub in the freezer for her to find (before buying a new one on his way home the next day). He had been known to leave dirty socks besides the clothes hamper instead of in it, incurring the wrath of his wife and several Hebrew curse words in his direction.
But the things that truly hurt her? He guarded with his life, staunchly, never wavering and never daring to go near that line.
She was much more fragile underneath than anyone who knew her would believe. Sure, she was still Special Agent Ziva DiNozzo (nee David), his little Israeli ninja, legally probably a lethal weapon. Now, too, she was the mother of their children, and Tony had sworn many times that he had never look so powerful, so incredibly strong, as she did when she had cradled their newborn children to her chest, and whispered a soft Hebrew prayer to them.
She was, however, not infallible to the odd comment about how old she looked, tired she looked, how her hair was not correct, how her stomach was not as flat as it had been BC (before children, as Tony had crowned it). She held her demons at bay, but there were days when he knew they were lurking close enough that she could hear them, smell them, fear them. Days when she needed that reassurance, needed him to stand behind her as a safety net.
And he worked his damn best to make her happy.
Especially when managing his actual work and life balance. Letting work get in the way of their marriage, of their family. Using his phone to answer a work call at dinner. Bringing home files to read after hours. They were no nos. He had set those limits early into their relationship himself, much to Ziva's surprise, but not objection. She never did ask exactly why he was so committed to it, but Tony would never have told her if she had. NCIS was such a fundamental part of who he was, but Ziva? She was his world, no, the very axis on which his world spun. Not to mention his children; his own memories of being put second, being ignored, being left behind for work, only cemented his reasoning for those rules. DiNozzo Rule #1 these days, 'Family First'.
The truth went much further back than Ziva ever probably realised, though. It went far beyond just being a good father, being a good husband. The truth was that he remembered that night, on the roof top, so many years ago, when she had told him about Ray. About him standing her up, having her sit alone for 3 hours in a restaurant. When his excuse had been 'caught up at work'. He remembered the hurt on her face, the tears, the way her shoulders slumped, and her voice cracked. He remembered the pain he felt for her, and the anger, the anger that someone would treat her that way, that someone would make her feel so small, so unwanted. He had wanted to bundle her up, to tell her that she deserved better, that she deserved to be the one making him do the waiting.
So when they had finally become one, when he finally had her in his arms, he kept her there, close to his heart. He remembered that night, and his grip tightened a little more. He often kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips; he ran a hand through her hair, cupped her cheek and told her just how beautiful she was. There was not a day that went past without him reminding her that he loved her. He praised her endlessly, and he still gawped at how she could go from looking so comfortably at ease, cooking dinner for the children, bickering about home work, to glamorous within the hour for a date night, grinning at him over a glass of wine, lithe and elegant as she danced with him. It was two kinds of beautiful, and he still didn't know which he preferred.
Cherish each other.
He'd never forgotten that one either. She was his to cherish now, without restriction, and he damned well made sure he remembered that too.
Vance's voice brought him from his thoughts, back to the brightness of the squad room lights, and Tony looked back at him, before shaking his head, handing back the file with an apologetic smile.
" Sorry, no can do, Director."
" Agent DiNozzo, I don't think I need to tell you what this assignment would do for your career. You turn this down tonight, I ain't gonna offer it to you again."
Tony nodded, before shrugging softly, thumb spinning the ring on his finger gently.
" My family comes first, Director. Always has, always will. Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a date to be at."
He turned on his heel, smiling to himself as he pressed the button for the elevator, thumb still playing with the ring on his finger.