The Tuna Apocalypse
March 2020
"I'm telling you now, Ziva… if I eat tuna from a can, a pouch, or a vacuum-sealed package, it will be the end times," Tony was slightly out of breath as he tried to keep up with the quick pace of Ziva's path through the market.
"You are being overly dramatic," Ziva rolled her eyes as she selected a package of pasta from the shelf. The last two packages of farfalle went into her shopping basket as her eyes skimmed over the nearly empty shelves for any packages of rice.
Tony grinned at his wife-to-be, "I will not eat it, Sam-I-am; I will not eat tuna from a can." He waved his hands with a final flourish and placed the two pound bag of brown rice in the shopping basket. He'd found the last bag near the back of a shelf.
"And then you wonder why your child is a drama queen…" she swatted at him playfully and rolled her eyes as she walked briskly to the next aisle. "Remember it will be the three of us in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment for the next two weeks," she stopped suddenly and he nearly ran into her.
He followed her gaze; there sitting on an endcap shelf, in the middle of the otherwise empty display, was a slightly mangled package of chocolate sandwich cookies. The kind with the white middle filling, which could be dunked in milk; the cookies that every one of them craved. She reached out and grabbed the package, inspecting it for any tears in the plastic wrapper that surrounded the delicious treat.
She let out a laugh, "You should see your face! Our child definitely gets her food faces from her father. These will be rationed, one per person, each time we indulge."
He snorted, "I think she is a chocoholic because of her Ima's craving for the sweet…"
Ziva ignored his comment; she looked over the selection of canned vegetables. She found what she wanted; plenty of cans of black beans, chickpeas, kidney beans, and pinto beans. All were high in protein and could be mixed with pasta to make a meal, or used as the basis for a hearty soup. She placed two cans of each in the basket much to her fiance's dismay.
"Um, do you really think beans are a good choice with three of us in one small apartment?" he grinned at her as she realized his implications.
"They are a good source of protein; if you will not eat canned tuna…"
"Beans it is," he commented sarcastically. "Beans, beans, the magical fruit…" Ziva cut him off before he finished the silly rhyme.
"Do NOT tell our daughter that one," she admonished, remembering the full saying from their time at NCIS when Tony and Tim had been slightly tipsy and compared summer camp experiences. "It is bad enough you have her chanting the bologna song!"
He grinned, "My bologna has a first name, it's…" She placed a hand to his lips, silencing him.
"I am about to spend two weeks in self-imposed isolation with two children; give me patience," she spoke to no one in particular, but Tony heard every word.
He stepped up close behind her as she viewed the options in the canned fruit section. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and put his chin on her shoulder so that his mouth was almost against her ear. "We could try to make another one, you know. We'll have all this time together… and the first one came out pretty awesome," he whispered.
She turned in his embrace, "In the middle of the canned fruits and vegetables aisle at the market is not the place for this conversation." She kissed him lightly on the lips and winked as she broke the contact. Oh, they'd definitely be having that 'conversation' after their daughter was asleep for the night, probably many times over the next fourteen days.
Tony cheered up at the thought; perhaps he could tolerate canned tuna if it meant adult pleasures in the late hours of the night…
31 December 2020
"One more big push," the midwife encouraged Ziva. Tony wiped her face with a cool cloth; the beads of perspiration were running down almost faster than he could wipe. Ziva grabbed her husband's hand and bore down as the contraction started. He gritted his teeth as she squeezed; he would not complain, even if she did break his hand. After all, this woman was doing all the hard part to bring their son into the world.
"There you go, little one," the midwife eased the baby's shoulders out into the world. Ziva lay back, exhausted as the midwife held up her son. She motioned for Tony to come cut the cord as she placed the tiny boy on his mother's chest.
Tony's hand shook slightly, but he made the cut as directed. His eyes filled with tears; he blinked hard to keep them from spilling over. As he looked up at Ziva cradling their newborn son, the tears rolled down his cheeks. She met his teary gaze with one of her own.
"He's beautiful, " Tony whispered, fully in awe of what his wife had just accomplished over the past ten hours.
"That he is," she agreed as the baby moved against her.
The midwife picked up the baby and handed him to his father, "She has one more task; the placenta…"
Tony gazed at the tiny miracle in his arms, "Welcome to the world, Josiah Vincenzo. You are so loved already…"
A/N Shout out to alidiabin and Susan for the inspiration with a Twitter thread. The tuna part is my own sentiment expressed to a friend on 19 March. I cannot stand tuna in any way, shape, or form. If you catch me eating tuna, the end is near! Stay safe and healthy everyone.