Chap 35 Stepping through the Frame

Sunday, April 11th 2021

Tony's eyes roamed the utter silence of the apartment. Yes, this was what a Sunday morning was supposed to look like. He was sitting on the couch beside Ziva, looking through case files. Ziva, on the other hand, was wrapped up in what he still considered an art form: the art of writing an email in Hebrew. He had often attempted starting Hebrew classes. The thought alone of Ziva tutoring him was making him feel tingly inside. But seriously. David was on track to become fluent in Hebrew one day, and so was Tali. He had felt a particular push to finally go through with it following his permanent return from Spain. He had wanted to make every effort to fit back in with his family.

However, between work, family and the inkling of a social life, spare time was scarce and Ziva had quite vehemently assured him that he just had to find his own way of dealing with it, if it was really that important to him. Since then, he'd taken to rousing the kids' interest in Spanish: If it was daddy's time for goodnight stories, Tali had a selection of Spanish books he could read from. Likewise, David might have been getting too old for the nighttime story approach, but some of their father-son-outings would take them to see Spanish screen extravaganzas or visit an old friend of Tony's who had polished his own Spanish back in the day at Baltimore and again before his stint in Rota. He was treading lightly, of course, not wanting to confuse either of them. Yet, come to think of it, he would have never thought that languages would play even that big a role in his life at any point, but sharing that life with Ziva had successfully changed his outlook on the future any way you turned it.

He dipped his head a little to the side to smile at the woman beside him, finding the concentrated look on her face most endearing.

"You are ogling", she stated, not lifting her eyes from her computer screen.

"That I am", he confirmed, leaning over to capture her lips.

She smiled against him as his hand moved to the side of her face, keeping her in place. She lingered for a while before finally pulling back, a seductive glisten in her eyes. "Was last night not enough for you?"

Tony laughed triumphantly. "It was, Ms. David. Twice, as I remember correctly", he said, grinning. "Just wanted to reaffirm that."

Ziva patted his cheek, her fingers gently running along his mid-morning stubble, smiling. "I am writing to my father", she said, indicating the half-finished massage on her screen.

Tony tilted his head, moving into her touch. "Killjoy."

Ziva chuckled and swiftly caught the corner of his lips again. "I hate to be."

"We haven't honored date night in quite a while", he observed.

"Oh, that name", she groaned and rolled her eyes for show rather than real annoyance.

"What, date night?", Tony repeated, faintly recalling her aversion. "Right, you don't appreciate the wording. What was it, though? Nuit de l'amour?"

Ziva smirked. "That is what you suggested, Tony. I just think that 'date night' sounds so… Forced. It is not a dentist's appointment."

Tony could have come up with a few instant jokes to affix to that statement, not least among them ones that involved drilling. But he chose not to go for it. "What do you think about the idea in general, though?"

Ziva's forehead creased in wrinkles. "Our lives are a bit complicated right now."

"Never stopped us before."

"I do not like this any more than you do", she assured him, running a hand through his hair. "But you have to admit that now is not a good time to think about a night out alone. We still have April 23rd."

The grin that had briefly slipped from Tony's face was instantly returned to full grandeur. "That we have", he confirmed as his mind went to the small case at the back of a less frequented drawer in his closet, buried beneath an assortment of old pants, that safely contained her present.

With another kiss they finally returned to their respective activities, but Tony couldn't concentrate. Instead, he did what he always did when concentration turned fickle: He just kept watching and observing Ziva. When she had returned from the pool earlier today, she had found a message from Eli in her inbox informing her that he had had his IT-specialists open a secure address for her to write to. The Eliana-matter was too delicate to discuss on the phone or via other, more routine channels, but that way they were free to talk. Tony had to give the man credit for trying, he really did.

After a while he got up and went upstairs to go to the bathroom, where he was alerted to the faint ray of light visible through the crack under David's door. Tony stepped up and listened for a moment, but all was quiet. Gently pushing down on the doorknob, Tony opened it and peeked inside. David was sitting at his desk, only his desk lamp on. He was drawing.

"Morning, buddy", Tony greeted, closing the door behind him so they wouldn't wake Tali in the adjacent room.

David's head turned. "Morning, dad."

"Since when are you up?"

"A while."

"Why didn't you come downstairs? Your mom and I could've made you breakfast."

David shrugged. Tony kneeled down beside his chair and looked up at his son, finding, to his loving amusement, the same concentrated look on his son's face that he had just witnessed on Ziva's a few minutes ago. The whole setup, however, was odd. David usually took full advantage of his morning hours, especially on Sundays. Tali, having been allowed to stay up late the night before, easily slept two hours longer on average than he did and it usually gave them some time to talk over breakfast, just he and Ziva and David.

"What's that?", Tony asked then, indicating the drawing David was working on.

Ever since the Rikers Case and Ziva's accident they had learned to pay much closer attention to David's drawings. David, in a way, was speaking through them, even if he chose not to talk to them about something yet. Besides that, Tony had to admit that his drawings were getting exceptionally good for an eight-year-old, and he wasn't just saying that because David was his kid.

"A dream I had", the little boy stated nonchalantly, changing pens.

"You want to talk about it?"

David shook his head.

"You wanna talk about something else?", Tony continued, getting up from the floor and proceeding to sit on the edge of David's bed, fixing his eyes on his son's back.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Like your grandma sleeping in the other room?"

David put the pen down again, browsing the selection of drawing utensils lying open in front of him on the desk. "She's not my grandma."

Tony nodded. "Fair enough. Eliana then."

"What about her?"

"I don't know", Tony repeated. "What about her don't you like?"

David finally turned around to face his dad, abandoning his work for the time being. His forehead creased in wrinkles. "Who says I don't like her?"

Tony tilted his head to the side, a pointed smile straddling his face. "You do, buddy."

"I don't know her", the eight-year-old corrected.

"That's entirely true."

"It's hard to like somebody you don't know, right?"

"Right."

David thought about his next words for a moment. "Do I have to like her?", he asked.

Tony shook his head. "That's totally up to you. Your mom and I want you to decide that for yourself. Don't let anybody ever tell you who you can or cannot like, okay? That's always your choice to make."

David slowly nodded his head in understanding.

"But then, to find out if you like somebody, you first have to give them a chance." Tony's smile persisted, a knowing edge in his voice.

David shrugged his shoulders. "Mom doesn't smile as much when she's around. I don't like that. Even with Saba Eli it was different. Mom didn't smile much then, but he always made her smile."

Tony couldn't help but shake his head, himself feeling a smile coming on. David was amazingly observant, and sensitive about changes in their behavior, changes to the norm that was his family. He was right, though. With Eli it was different. It was hard to draw up comparisons, sure, but Eli did have his ways to make Ziva smile, if he was trying hard enough. In Tony's humble opinion, Eli had proven to be a veritable asshole for most of Ziva's life, but he was a part of her no matter what. That was a fact; the very fact that kept Ziva going back, all the time, trying again. Eli might not have been around much during her childhood and most of her adulthood, and he might have been a ruthless and exacting bastard, but, for better or worse, he knew his daughter. Eliana didn't. Eliana didn't know Ziva and, put simply, had no idea what made her daughter smile.

"She's not trying hard enough, is she?"

David nodded. "She's s'posed to be a mom to our mom. But she's not. She's not like mom is to me and Tali."

"But that's different, David. Your mom-"

"Wouldn't just go away and lie to us 'bout it."

Tony stared at his son. Sometimes David simply fascinated him. The little boy wasn't held back by not knowing Eliana. Tony had seen it before. David was very well capable of interacting with people he didn't know, and willing to; with adults often more so than with kids his age. He just didn't like Eliana on principle, because it was Ziva who she had hurt, his mom, his personal superhero.

"You have to cut her some slack, buddy", Tony tried again. "She had a very important job to do. It hurt your mom that she left, yes. That doesn't mean that Eliana liked doing what she did. Her job needed to be done."

"And it was more important than mom was?", David argued.

It wasn't easy arguing with his son's logic - a good, sensitive logic at that - on only half of the facts. Tony would have liked to say that Eliana made a big sacrifice, sacrificing motherhood for her children's safety. She had caused pain, a lot of pain, and she had set up her daughter for having to sacrifice so much of herself over the years that it was barely commensurable. But this was what they had to deal with; even if the word 'job' had recently become the throwaway euphemism for most of the details to Eliana's story.

"You know how your mom and I, and Uncle Tim and all the others. How we work to keep you safe? And not only you, but a lot of other people as well? Even people that we don't know?", Tony tried.

David nodded, remembering all the conversations they had had in the past about that. "Yeah."

"That's the kind of job Eliana had. She tried to protect your mom and her siblings from bad men."

For a moment it felt very odd for Tony to plead Eliana's cause so eagerly. But he just needed to try and catalyze the process, if their children were ever to have a grandmother. He had grown up in circumstances where there had not been a single woman around to look up to: His mother was dead, his grandmothers he had never met. In fact, he had grown up with an utter lack of good role models. Senior had hardly ever been around. Tony couldn't help but think that if he'd had women to look up to, even an Aunt or one of his dad's longtime flings - maybe his life could have been different. Maybe, yes, he and Ziva would have tried sooner. Who knew?

David thought about Tony's words for a moment, watching his own feet shuffle around on the chair legs. "But you and mom always say family's the most important thing."

Tony smiled proudly. "It is."

David looked up at him, his eyes blazing with seriousness. "But not for her, dad. So, I can't like her."

Tony sighed. This wasn't going to be dealt with in one conversation anyway, and he had nothing more to add to that. He got up from his position on the bed. "Okay, then", he said, holding out his hand to his son, "How 'bout we shelf that talk and get some breakfast now?"

David nodded his head, following him downstairs. When they arrived in the kitchen, Ziva had already set the table for three and was commuting between refrigerator and stove. David instantly paddled over to her and wrapped his arms around her middle. Ziva was momentarily taken aback, but quickly recovered and put the edibles in her hand on the counter, so she was free to hug him back.

She kissed the top of his head. "Boker tov, neshomeleh."

"Morning, mommy", he mumbled, his face partially hidden in her stomach.

Ziva tilted her head a little down to study her son's face, absently drawing circles on his back. Then she lifted her questioning eyes to Tony. Tony only shook his head, telling her that they would talk about it later. It certainly didn't appease Ziva's worry as to her son's behavior towards their new living arrangement.

"Looks like you already got a head start", Tony remarked, leaning around the pair to grab the things Ziva had deposited on the counter and take over for her.

Ziva nodded. "I heard you two talking."

David dipped his head back and rolled his eyes up at her. "Pancakes?", he requested.

Ziva smiled. "Yes, if you want."

With that he finally let go of her and joined Tony at the stove, leaving Ziva to watch and ponder. During breakfast the eight-year-old talked incessantly. To Ziva and Tony it appeared almost as if the little boy was eagerly making up for his quiet partaking in the family meals as of late. He was cramming an incredible amount of stories and questions into the hour they spent sitting at the kitchen table, before Tali stumbled in and demanded, in the drowsiest and sweetest voice imaginable, to be fed as well.

When Eliana did come downstairs later in the morning, David had already relocated to his bedroom, intent on finishing his latest book before they were to leave for lunch. He hadn't been reading for long, however, when he was startled by the trembling of the doorknob and his door being briskly opened and shut.

David looked up from his book to glare at his little sister. "Remember what mom said about knocking?"

"That I should?", Tali retorted, smiling meekly.

"Uh huh."

"Maybe you didn't hear", she offered, her smile curling into a certified DiNozzo grin.

David ignored her comment. "What do you want, Tali?"

"I left Sid", she explained, referring to the sloth-like stuffed animal that Ducky had gotten her for her fourth birthday during her emphatic Ice Age phase (a phase readily sustained by her father's co-fascination).

David placed a finger on his current page to mark it before he snapped the book shut. In one swift movement he leaned over the back of his bed to retrieve the toy in question. He handed it to his little sister, who scooped it up reverently and held it close. Satisfied, David leaned back against the wall and re-opened his book. He had barely come to the end of the next sentence, however, when he realized Tali hadn't moved an inch. He looked back up. Tali was standing there, her head tilted to the side at an acute angle, her face scrunched up in a deep frown.

"Are you mad?", she asked bluntly, fixing her big brother with her deep brown eyes.

"No, I'm not mad."

"You look mad."

"I'm not mad."

"Why do you look mad then?"

David let out an exasperated grunt, once again shutting his book. "I'm not mad, okay? I'm just not happy."

Tali took a moment to process his words, then stalked over to his bed and plopped down on the edge. "Why?"

David shrugged.

"You don't like our grandma, d'you?"

David snorted at the moniker his little sister had chosen so offhandedly for Eliana. "I don't know. I guess."

Tali nodded her head determinedly, shifting a little in her position so she could tuck both of her legs beneath her body, Sid hanging loosely from her grip. "I heard mommy and daddy talk in the kitchen and daddy said you said you don't like her."

David just stared at her for a moment. Great; so, on top of everything else, he now felt guilty that he had basically told his mom that he didn't like her mom, even if it wasn't to her face. He knew his mom worried about those things a lot and he really didn't like to worry her. It was different with his dad. His dad would just talk about the things that worried him, usually to his mom. His mom, though, she could worry about a lot of things and you'd never know.

"Do you like her?", he inquired, sincerely interested.

Tali shrugged her shoulders. "I think she's nice", she declared. "She has a really nice smile. Just like mommy."

"But mom doesn't smile much when she's around", David countered, repeating the argument he had presented to his dad earlier.

Tali pressed her lips into a thin line, pondering her brother's words. "But that's 'cause mommy's not sure she's happy 'bout it yet that she's back, 'member?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Maybe we can tell her how to make mommy happy", Tali mused, tugging her eyelids deeply over her eyes. "I know lotsa things."

"But she should know", David insisted. "Like mom and dad know 'bout us."

Tali just shrugged her shoulders. "She was away for a long time."

David sighed heavily. Sometimes Tali's straightforward answers were the best method to frustrate him. This was all coming back to him not understanding how Eliana could have left his mom and her siblings in the first place. But for some reason no one had a good enough answer to that; at least not good enough to make him understand.

"You should talk to mommy", Tali assessed, settling Sid down in her lap.

"I don't know…"

"Then talk to Uncle Gibbs", Tali tried again. "He knows things."

David smiled a little. "He does."

Tali nodded her head, satisfied with her opinion on the matter and the returned smile on her big brother's face. She was just about to move from her position on the bed, when another thought entered her mind.

"Deed?"

"Huh?"

"You think daddy's sad 'cause mommy's mommy came back and his didn't?"

David thought about that for a second. He hadn't given that much thought, though. He faintly shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"I'll go and make sure", Tali said, nodding her head determinedly, and finally hopped off the bed, leaving just as quickly and unceremoniously as she had entered.

Lunch at Abby's and McGee's had ended in somewhat of a sketch show since it had been Abby's and Tony's turn to cook as per their rota system. The two of them always managed to turn cooking into more of an entertainment show for the on-looking audience. However, despite Tony's knack for voicing vegetables and Abby showing off some more or less bubbly chemical reactions of different ingredients mixed together, the food usually tasted pretty good. The kids were having a blast, and that was the most important part; especially given that they didn't see quite as much of their parents during the week as they might have liked.

Afterwards, as usual, the kids had moved to set up camp in the play room. The play room was the extra room in the Sciuto-McGee household that was tacitly set aside for the idea of siblings for Liora. For now, it was stacked with Liora's toys and games, but also with quite a lot of things McGee and Abby had bought Tali and David over the years and which had been left there for whenever they visited to make use of them. Abby and Ziva, on the other hand, had relocated to the living room to talk and thus were close enough to deal with any on-hand emergency. With that in mind, McGee had set out to look for Tony, finding his boss out on the patio, staring into nothingness.

McGee stepped up beside him, bracing his hands against the railing in a similar manner as Tony. "So, how's life with Eliana?"

Tony snorted, not turning to look at his colleague and friend. "Ziva's still not sure how she feels, David is way too loyal and I feel like I keep shoving her down everybody's throat", Tony declared. "Tali's probably the only one with a longtime game plan."

McGee offered a small smile. "That sounds about right. Give it time", he suggested.

Tony shook his head, finally turning to fix McGee with his eyes. "This whole plan is ridiculous", he exclaimed, his mouth gaping. "What were we thinking? Routines my ass. How is this helping?"

"It's just a plan, Tony. We don't have a better one-"

"We're sitting on a frickin' time bomb, Tim", Tony half-laughed and half-cried, his arms flailing about. "And I can't stop thinking that neither Ziva nor I agreed to this just to get Kadeer."

McGee studied Tony's expression, his eyes narrowed. "So what?"

Tony slumped back against the railing, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "What if Eliana does die in all of this? What if he gets to her? All this crap for nothing."

"Not nothing, Tony. Then you tried", McGee insisted. "Come on, you would think that after years of not trying the two of you, of all people, would know there's value to these things."

Tony tilted his head to the side, a grin tugging on his lips. He poked a finger at the air in front of McGee's chest. "Good one, McPointed."

"I thought so." McGee smiled, turning back to look out into the afternoon.

Tony sighed and mirrored his friend's position once again. "Seriously, Tim, I have no idea what's going to happen. It's really anybody's guess."

McGee nodded, smacking his lips. "I don't know what to say to that", he admitted. "But I heard that 'We're here when you need us' works pretty well."

Tony smiled slightly. "Yeah, it does."

Back inside Abby was handing the second glass of wine to Ziva before rejoining her on the couch, cradling her own mug of cocoa - a weekend drinking habit Liora had induced. The smile with which she had left for the kitchen a minute before was still playing prominently on her lips.

"I do not think Tony and I really thought this through beforehand", Ziva admitted, looking into her best friend's eyes.

"Ziva, you've just spent half an hour telling me about pictures and books and your parents meeting at the airport and your shopping trip with your mom", Abby said slowly. "This is not about having thought anything through."

Ziva took a moment to realize that, yes, she had dominated their conversation thus far with her stories. "I am so sorry-"

"No", Abby cut in, reaching out a hand to place on Ziva's arm. "No, it's great. I loved hearing about it. I'm really happy for you."

Ziva chuckled slightly. "I am not sure if an assassin on the loose should make you this happy, Abby."

Abby shook her head. "This isn't about that guy. This is about you guys."

"But it is about that guy", Ziva insisted, abandoning her glass on the table. "Kadeer is out there. He is a very real threat. And here we are doing-"

"Doing what, Ziva?", Abby retorted, her smile persisting. "Kadeer is a bastard who came after our family. And we will. Kick. His butt. Like we always do. Until then, you just keep doing family. It's what we do best."

Ziva tore her eyes away from her friend and leaned back against the couch, her hands folded in her lap. "Doing family", she repeated, a small laugh untangling itself from the back of her throat.

Abby looked at her for a while, studying her. "I talked to your mom", she blurted out at once, unable to keep it in any longer. "Last Monday, before we went to Johnston's funeral? I talked to her and I told her that I'm sorry for who she's lost and that it must be hard for her being back here. But I also told her that you're worth trying her hardest for, you and Tony and the kids. I know I shouldn't have-"

"Abby", Ziva stopped her, a small smile on her lips. "Thank you."

After Abby had proposed and artistically executed a game that had instantly enthralled both Liora and Tali, the five-year-old had begged her parents to stay at her Auntie's for a while longer. Caving under Tali's plea and the very comfort of her friend's apartment, Ziva and Tali had staid while Tony and David had returned home. They didn't plan on being there long, just long enough for Tony to check up on Eliana and get her to join them for dinner at Gibbs'.

He and Ziva had eventually agreed with Eliana's emphatic insistence that their Sunday family time was nothing she wanted to intrude in. However, since they were just as adamant that leaving her alone at their apartment all day wasn't exactly part of the detail description, Tony convinced her to tag along anyway. He had promised David to leave early so they could try out his new equipment in Gibbs' backyard and they did, for a full two hours. Afterwards Eliana offered Tony a hand in preparing dinner since Tali and Ziva were running late in the aftermath of a longer-than-usual tea at Ducky's.

In the meantime David had settled into a familiar rhythm of silence alongside his Uncle Gibbs down in the basement. It hadn't been too hard for Gibbs to pick up on the tension sizzling between the eight-year-old and Ziva's mother. Consequently, and following Tony's unequivocal staring, he had decided to give the little boy some space in his preferred thinking place and wisely requested his help with the surprise that Tony still wasn't supposed to see. Gibbs had been noticing the lack of movement on David's part for a while, but had waited for the question to finally come; smiling when it did.

"Uncle Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

David's eyes briefly dropped to the sandpaper in his hand. "Is it wrong that I don't like my grandma?"

Gibbs looked over at the eight-year-old. Jolting his head a little to the side, he abandoned his tools on the workbench and tugged the sawing trestle out from underneath it, placing it behind David and offering him a seat with a swift nod of his head. For a moment, while the little boy tried to figure out how best to perch himself on the wooden stand, the memory of Ziva's return from Somalia invaded Gibbs' mind, their talks in the basement. That trestle had been a prop in that conversation as well. A small, lopsided smile settled on Gibbs' face. He reached up on the shelf and retrieved the bottle of juice he was keeping there for just these occasions. He emptied a jar of nails and filled it with juice, then took one of the kids' glasses - glasses he kept there just for these occasions as well - and did the same, handing it to David while keeping the other one for himself.

He leaned against the workbench and took a sip, staring at the little boy expectantly. "Why don't you like her?"

David shrugged.

"No reason?"

David looked at his Uncle Gibbs. Tali was right. Uncle Gibbs knew things. "She hurt my mom. She went away for a really long time. And mom said she was really sad about it, because she thought she'd never come back", he rattled off, barely taking a breath. "And she missed her a lot, and she felt lonely for a long time because her sister and her brother were gone too."

"You're right. Eliana hurt your mom a lot."

"That's not okay, is it?"

Gibbs shook his head vaguely. "No", his mouth gaped on the 'o' for a moment, "That's never okay."

"Thought so."

Gibbs offered him a small shrug. "If you don't like her, don't like her."

"That's what dad said."

"Well, he's right", Gibbs said. "But you gotta be careful, big guy."

"'Bout what?"

"There's two kinds. One kind, it's you just don't like someone and that's it."

David took a sip from his juice. "And the second one?"

"You don't like someone in the beginning, but they earn your trust in the end", Gibbs relayed, remembering many an experience with that particular coming-to-be. "But that's harder, 'cause you gotta give them a chance first."

David pressed his lips into a thin line. "Dad said I should do that."

Gibbs gave a full-hearted laugh now. "If your dad's got all the answers, what do you need me for?"

David shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "Uncle Ducky says always get a second opinion and Aunt Abby says always double-check", he explained. "And I like talking to you 'bout things."

Tali and Ziva had arrived at Gibbs' place just in time for dinner. Gibbs had attracted most of the kids' attention and they had mainly focused on him, rendering that dinner at least less tense an occasion than all of their recent mealtime gatherings combined. It was late in the evening when they had finally returned home. Pre-bedtime routines were speeded up, eventually leaving only goodnight routines for Tony and Ziva. In the meantime Eliana was waiting for them downstairs so they could talk about and plan the next day, and every weekday after that. They had to establish the very routines they were going to need to regulate: joint trips to the supermarket, daily commutes to the Navy Yard, secure and supervised locations. If emotions weren't easily dealt with, neither was the rest of their plan.

Tony had just delivered his goodnight kiss to his son. Before he could straighten back up and leave, however, David's question pulled him back down.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

David looked unsure for a moment. "You told mom what I told you?"

Tony narrowed his eyes at his son as he sank back down on the edge of the bed. "Was it a secret? 'Cause I thought we had our own special sign for sealing our guy secrets?"

David smiled a little. "It wasn't a secret."

"Well, you know your mom and I will tell each other these things", Tony replied.

David nodded. "I know, but… Is she mad at me now?"

"No, of course not", Tony said. "Why would she be?"

"'Cause of what I said about her mom?"

"Hey, you can have your own opinion, okay? We respect that. Your mom respects that", Tony assured him, his voice boiled down to a whisper. "She won't be mad at you for saying what you think. Actually, if you ask me, she seems quite proud of you that you look out for her so much."

David tucked his hands under his head, a small smile lingering. "You think?"

"I'm positive", Tony insisted, a grin spreading on his face. "You get that from me. We have to protect our girls, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do." David lifted his arm and bumped his dad's fist.

Tony nodded. "You just keep telling us when something's bothering you, okay?"

"Okay."

"So… Something bothering you now?", Tony teased, wiggling a finger into his son's face.

David laughed at his dad's familiar antics. "It's okay. I talked to Uncle Gibbs."

Tony frowned. "Are you going to start building boats now? 'Cause we don't have a basement, you know."

"No, I'm good", David said with a grin.

"Night, buddy." Tony leaned forward for another kiss and finally got up.

"Night."

With another glimpse at his son's pensive face Tony walked over into Tali's room, where he found Ziva leaning against the headboard and their little girl snuggled comfortably into her side. A small frown settled on his face when he noticed Shim missing from the nightstand. That hippo had been sitting on that nightstand for as long as he could remember - whenever it hadn't been in Tali's arms, that was. He was jerked from his thoughts, however, when he noticed that Ziva's voice had stopped its accomplished enactment of a dozen of different characters in their daughter's currently favorite book. She was looking up at him with her eyebrows raised questioningly, and Tali was mimicking her mother's expression so effortlessly and so unbeknownst to them both that Tony couldn't keep a smirk off of his face.

"Hey, princess. Can daddy finish the chapter for your mom?", Tony suggested, kneeling down beside his daughter's bed.

Tali perked up instantly. "Can you do the funny voice again?"

"Which one?"

"The really Bond one."

Tony and Ziva couldn't resist a chuckle. They were never quite seeing eye-to-eye on whether to let the kids watch his James Bond-collection or not, but despite their usual disagreement on the subject, Tony had thus far managed to introduce both of his children to enough Bond-verse knowledge to appease his cinematic conscience.

"Who's the one and only real James Bond, princess?", Tony inquired through game-master eyes while Ziva slowly untangled herself from Tali's embrace.

"Conny!", she exclaimed, her face breaking out in a proud grin.

Tony laughed and patted her head. "Good girl."

As Tony stepped around Ziva to take her place, he was met by her inquisitive frown, hidden from their daughter's view. "I think your son needs you", he whispered, before plopping down on the bed beside Tali. He swiftly dropped a kiss on her forehead and the five-year-old cuddled up to him, her small hands encircling his upper arm.

Ziva took a deep breath before bending down to give her daughter a kiss. "Layla tov."

Tali smiled. "Night, mommy."

When Ziva entered David's room, the eight-year-old was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. In the room next to them Tony's voice emerged with the most booming Scottish accent he could muster, followed by Tali's giggling.

"No book tonight?", Ziva asked as she walked into the room. David just shook his head and Ziva sat down beside him. "Hakol beseder, neshomeleh?"

"I don't know", he admitted.

Ziva took a close look at her son. From what she had heard throughout the day, David had had his share of talking and taking in advice and opinions. She would have liked for him to understand, right now, and she would have liked to be the one to make him understand and stop his worrying and stop his confusion. But it wasn't that easy, and there was no quick fix. More than that, however, she was still struggling to understand herself.

Ziva dipped her head forward. "Would you like me to read to you tonight?"

Once again, David limited his answer to shaking his head.

"Alright then", Ziva conceded and leaned over to plant a kiss on his forehead.

David took a hold of her hand before she could straighten back up, however. Looking into her eyes, and smiling somewhat shyly, he whispered, "But can you stay? Like you used to?"

A knowing smile erupted on her face. "Of course, tateleh", she said softly.

David scooted over and Ziva settled down beside him, turning onto her side so she was facing him. Pulling him close, she started to run a hand gently and repeatedly through his hair, her fingertips drawing a line from the long strands on top of his head to the base of his neck, just like she had done when he had been a baby. This had always had a special calming effect on her son. When she had been pregnant with him, David had often positioned himself with his head prominently against her abdominal wall, so that whenever she or Tony had been stroking her pregnant belly they had most often really stroked their unborn son's head; something, she firmly believed, he had remembered even after.

Looking at him now, eight years old, his eyes closed and gradually falling asleep, Ziva couldn't believe how fast he had grown up. Her baby boy, the gift she had never believed possible, had grown up into the smartest and most emotionally generous little boy she could imagine. He was still far too young to comprehend, and yet far too mature to remain oblivious.

David's breathing had evened out and he was fast asleep when Tony appeared in the doorway to his room. Tali must have fallen asleep not too long ago as well. Ziva didn't move in her position, but her eyes rolled up to meet Tony's and without a word they could see their mutual worry reflected in each other.