Tali stirred in her stroller, taking her time on a piece of animal cracker. Tony had his hands tightly gripped on the handlebar, keeping his eyes wide open. He wasn't sure if this was the place she thought he would think of when she wrote the note...but it was nearly impossible to forget this place. The cafe; it was worth a shot.

What he didn't know was that he was being watched. He had been watched very carefully for the past month. She had to watch from afar because of the little girl he was now attached to. She felt so much envy for him; how he was able to feed her, brush her hair, talk to her, and how she would listen. But most importantly, the ability for her only daughter to trust him was liked how Tali trusted her father and how he loved her; but it bothered her how they could do all that without her.

When the opportunity presents itself, take it.

Tony became distracted with the little girl, so she thought it would be the perfect opportunity to walk over and sit down in front of him. With the sound of the chair in front of him being pulled back, he slowly looked over for the person he had been waiting for. He could not formulate the right words, he could not even figure out if he should be frustrated, happy, rejoicing, or pissed off. So, he chose to remain silent and waited on her to speak...or whisper, or hell, even send a smoke signal.

"Tony." She spoke in the straightest face possible. Tali looked over at the familiar voice. The voice she hadn't heard in six months. The voice she had hoped to hear again. With one glance she knew who it was; "imma?" her small voice mustered.

Ziva no longer scrutinized his face, gearing for some response from him. She looked down to her daughter in the stroller. The first thing she noticed was the golden star that delicately hung above her heart, and then she noticed how she was dressed: black thick leggings and an olive green dress with a purple coat. This is how Anthony DiNozzo dresses a little girl. My daughter. She looks beautiful. Maybe she underestimated him. A bit of guilt made its way up her torso and into her neck.

Before she could get a word in, Tony interrupted her thoughts. "She's been asking about you. Wondering where you were.." His tone hinted at a long period of sadness.

Her eyes were watering up, gesturing to the stroller "Can I-?"

"She is yours." He smiled while picking Tali up from her seat and placing her on the pavement. She waddled over to Ziva, never removing her deep smile on her face. They embraced in a warm hug lasting a minute or more. God, how she missed her. How she missed her sanity for so long. He noticed the emotional strain that played on her face. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt them.

Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.

He didn't want to push her. He would get answers, eventually. But he knew he had to get over himself. This child meant more to her than him...at least right now. This child meant more to him than her. At least they could agree on something (even if it went unspoken). A little chat ensued but not for too long because Tony asked if Ziva would like to come over to see some of Talia's artwork she made at her dayschool. This was his way of casting an olive branch to this woman.

While she had Tali on her lap, now resting her head in the curve of her mother's neck, Tony and her began to speak...really get down to the root of the main problem.

"But you're supposed to be dead. The farmhouse…" He rubbed his temple, trying to erase any trace of confusion and disbelief.

"Well, did they find a body?" She knew the answer. No they had not found the body. There was no body to be found. Diversion.

"I mean, Mossad confirmed you.." Suddenly it dawns on him that he was dealing with an outlet of duplicity. They had to be in order to get the job (whatever it was) done.

One side of her mouth lifted upwards, forming a half-smile. There was so much to tell him if he really wanted to know (and understand) her situation and the journey. "Uh huh."

They don't necessarily trust each other yet.

But it is a start.

She is meeting an old 'associate' at The General Directorate for External Security, the DGSE tomorrow afternoon. Of course, he doesn't need to know about it, at least not yet.