Companion to Video Games III: Duties. Ziva & Borin at Ikea while the Boys babysit.
Video Games Extra: Ikea
When her phone trills yet again Ziva barely glances at it – just checks it dutifully and returns it to her bag.
Borin casts a dry expression at the device as it disappears from view. "Let me guess: DiNozzo?"
Ziva settles further into the futon on which they are currently lounged, ending up nearly swallowed by a pile of bright blue decorative cushions. "McGee this time."
"Oh? What's he want?" Without waiting for a response, Borin pats the Beddinge mattress and adds, "I like this, but I think the one in the display with the freaky lamp was more comfortable."
"The lamp that looked like an exploding sheep?"
"That's the one."
Ziva hums in contemplation. "Yes, I agree. It was firmer."
"Exactly." Borin thumps the futon once more for good measure, nods decisively, and hauls herself up to standing with a groan. "Next?"
"Next," Ziva agrees. She holds out a hand and Borin gives it helpful a tug.
They head across the aisle to another living room display, collapsing onto its red modular sofa with matching sighs.
"So, what did McGee want?" Borin reminds after a second.
"Oh, who knows," Ziva dismisses. "This is my break, and it is well deserved. I should be able to shop in peace."
Admittedly, they haven't been shopping so much as going from show room to show room, sitting or lying on the furniture for intervals of ten to fifteen minutes at a time, but regardless.
"It couldn't be important?"
Despite the doubtful eyebrow Ziva raises, concern flickers across her face and soon has her reaching for her phone.
"It is just a picture," she says upon opening the text. Her voice is coloured with annoyed relief. "Of course it is."
She tilts the screen so Borin can see the image of Tony, passed out in his La-Z-Boy chair with Jacob asleep on his chest. It's the ninth baby-centric photo she's received since leaving the house earlier that afternoon.
"Ugh," Borin intones, rolling her eyes heavenward. "They're worse than women."
"Tell me about it." Ziva re-locks her cell's screen and shakes her head in exasperation, though even as she does a wave of missing her family hits with a dull pang.
Apparently hearing something in Ziva's voice, Borin fixes her with a calculating stare. "C'mon," she says at length. "I'm starving. Time for meatballs."
The cafeteria is always their last stop on these habitual trips, and Ziva – who has started to wonder what other moments she's lost out on that McGee and Tony haven't photographed – is grateful for the subtle out. "Deal."
Now that they're no longer stopping to test out furniture, they begin to make their way through Ikea's maze at a much faster clip. The scent of food is already a tangible presence in the air less than ten minutes later when Ziva pauses in the children's section to finger a set of crib sheets.
"Thinking of having another?" Borin asks.
Ziva releases the pink, rosebud-covered fabric. "Not anytime soon," she says, turning away. "I doubt our data plan could handle it."