Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Washington, D.C.,

The Navy Yard

"Called in at four in the morning on the first day of the new year. Who has to go to work at four in the morning on the first day of two-thousand-fifteen?"

Tim and Ziva shared a glance as Tony plopped into his chair. "Everyone in the world who has a job, Tony." Tim replied, taking a sip of his coffee. They'd gotten the call from Gibbs as Ziva had been taking her shower; by then, Tim had gotten out and dressed, and had fixed breakfast for the girls. He'd told the trio after the call that they'd be spending the day with Ducky down in Autopsy- since the case, so far, had to do with a missing little girl.

Of course, the subject touched a nerve with both Tim and Ziva, as they thought of what the parents must be feeling, and hoping never to feel that fear. "And there is a scared little girl out there that needs to be found and brought back to her parents safe and bound."

"Safe and sound, Ziva." Tim replied, and his wife sighed, meeting his gaze.

Tony watched his partners, from where he sat at his desk. Ziva was flipping through her book on American slang, and Tim had found a small rubber bouncing ball in the drawer of his desk- one that belonged to Shirah, but that Gibbs had taken away from the child when she accidentally spilled his coffee. The little girl had followed the Team Leader everywhere that day, apologizing profusely before eventually sitting down in front of his desk and bursting into tears. And while Gibbs had forgiven her, he hadn't given her the ball back- instead, he'd dropped it in the drawer of her father's desk, knowing it would stay there.

Just... not knowing that Tim would find it and proceed to annoy his wife with the small rubber ball.

Ziva jumped, shooting out of her chair so fast she fell out of it, and Tim snorted in amusement. Slowly, the Israeli rose, her gaze appearing over the edge of her desk- she looked to Tony, who just shrugged, and then glanced at Tim, her eyes widening in annoyance. He pretended to look busy, not even glancing her way. As she moved to stand, the ball rolled towards her and she looked down, picking it up. Her fingers closed around the ball, and after a moment, she lobbed the ball back towards her husband.

Tim's chair hit the back of the partition, and he looked up to find Ziva settled back in her seat, a smirk on her face. Eventually, the pair fell into an easy rhythm, tossing the ball back and forth, sharing minute conversation over whatever they were working on. Tony, for his part, sat back and watched; a tennis match without the shouting and annoying announcers. He couldn't say it was a shock to see them like this- but for a brief moment, he felt as though he'd stepped through a wormhole, going back to when Ziva had first arrived.

Not that Tony missed those days- he quite adored their girls, and frankly, couldn't imagine his life without his 'nieces' in it. He even found it hard to believe there had been a time when the girls hadn't been in their parents lives; when it had just been Tim and Ziva, living in that apartment, no childish laughter, no little feet running across the hardwood floors or toys laying haphazardly strewn about the room, waiting to be tripped over; no little dresses to buy or shoes to put on, no plastic covers on the electric light fixtures or baby gates-

"Next trashcan we have to go through, you're gonna be doing it, you know." Ziva raised an eyebrow at her husband.

"I went through the last trashcan at our last scene."

"That's cause you're the probie, Ziva." Tony filled in. She glared at him, catching the ball as it bounced her way, and throwing it back with a lazy flick of her wrist.

"You bastards pulled rank on me."

"You're the probationary agent, baby. Tony's the senior agent, I'm the junior, that's how it works." Tim replied, tossing the ball back as he sipped his coffee.

"Not anymore." The trio looked up as Gibbs caught the ball mid-bounce. He made his way to Tim's desk, dropping it into the junior agent's hand. He gave the younger man a look, and Tim had the sense to look at least a little ashamed. Then, without a word, Gibbs made his way to Ziva's desk, dropping her ID on the desk. Her head snapped up, as Gibbs held out her badge. "Congratulations." She stood, surprised and yet unable to contain her excitement as she picked up the small, laminated cards. "You're now a Journeyman agent."

"My... my probation is officially over?"

"Done and done." Without a glance back, Gibbs headed to his desk.

"Mazel Tov, Special Agent David." Ziva turned to her husband.

"It may be David here, but at home it is McGee... and I will carry this with tremendous pride." She moved around her desk, perching on the edge of his. "We are now, equals, Timothy."

He pulled her into his lap, sliding his arms around her waist. "We have always been equals, baby." He kissed her soundly- something Gibbs normally wouldn't allow, but because of the circumstances, he looked the other way. She pulled away, climbing to her feet and turning to the three men.

"Tonight, we should all go out and celebrate."

"That's great, Ziva, but what about the babies?" She turned to Tony, raising an eyebrow.

"I am sure our neighbor would be willing to watch the girls, Tony. Besides," She glanced at her husband, catching his gaze. "Tim and I need some time with adults. We love our girls, but there are only so many nights we can stand playing dolls or watching One-Hundred-and-One Dalmatians in Wonderland."

"I think you mean One-Hundred-And-One Dalmatians and Alice in Wonderland, Ziva."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, that too."