Tim closed the sliding door behind him, and placed the tray he was carrying on the outdoor table.

"That's not how you do it," Tony complained, as he and Ziva stood in front of the grill, both of them holding tongs. Ziva's hair was pulled into a French braid like she used to do at crime scenes to prevent cross-contamination. "Let me do it."

"I know how to grill," Ziva replied. "Israeli grill is a thing."

The meat on the grill sizzled. Down on the grass the kids played, with loose supervision from Senior. A few houses over, Tim could hear another larger gathering around a grill.

This was suburbia, and there were probably similar scenes playing out across the region, on this warm summer night.

"This isn't Israeli grill," Tony declared, waving his tongs in front of her, he was wearing an apron over his outfit, the apron declared him to be the Best Dad Ever, no doubt it had been some sort of Fathers Day present. "This is American barbeque, look at all this meat."

Ziva rolled her eyes.

Morgan giggled as she and Tali shared secrets by the big tree at the end of the yard. The newly erected tyre swing had proved popular with all the kids, including the biggest kid of them all, Tony.

Tim looked up toward the sky, enjoying feeling the evening sun on his face, and the peace of the lazy Saturday.

"And this eggplant," Ziva said, pointing to the slice of eggplant that was darkening with the heat. "And these vegetable kebabs."

Tony scoffed.

"You're the only one who eats the veggies," Tony replied. "The kids definitely won't."

Tim's heart warmed hearing his kids, and Tali being referred as a collective.

"Not true," Ziva said. "Tali loves eggplant, and your doctor said you need to eat more fibre."

Tim smirked to himself, if it wasn't for the kids playing on the lawn, and the chronic exhaustion that had plagued him since he turned forty, he would have thought that they were back in the pumpkin walled squadroom.

"You okay there, McThirdWheel," Tony asked.

And, just like that the two of them turned their bickering with each other to making fun of him.

It was just like old times.

"I was just pinching myself," Tim said, "For a moment I thought we were back at NCIS."

Tony and Ziva both laughed.

"Some things do not change, yes," Ziva said softly, as she surrendered the grill to Tony, and walked across the deck to pick up a glass of water.

Her shoes clip-clopped on the wood of the deck.

"Well, I'd argue a lot has changed," Tony countered. "I mean our kids are playing in the yard, and two of us don't have a badge anymore."

From his place on the deck, Tim could see into the garden, Tali and Morgan were still playing on with the swing, and Johnny and Senior were on the driveway with some sidewalk chalk.

Johnny had a heart shaped bandaid on his knee, from when he had fallen over earlier in the day.

Morgan's sunhat was laying in the grass, having been discarded the minute one of the grown-ups turned their backs.

"And, I'm still the third wheel," Tim declared. "Except, I'm the Senior Field Agent now."

The stage was mostly the same, but the players were different.

Hopefully they made less of a mess than their predecessors.

Ziva shook her head. Her earrings shook, Tali had proudly told her McUncle that the dangly earrings had been a Mother's Day present that Tali had helped pick out.

"I told him that he needed to stop being such a wuss nearly two years ago," Ziva said with an exasperated sigh.

Tony rolled his eyes. Nick and Ellie was obviously something they disagreed on.

"If someone you barely knew had told you to fight your fears, all those years ago, would you?" Tony asked, "Because I don't think I would have."

People had tried to point the two of them in the right direction, so many times, but there had been no action.

Hell, Tim had written two books trying to point them in the right direction.

It had only taken nearly a decade and a half, a secret child, and a lot of pain for them to get there.

If Tim had suggested their story, as a plot of the long forgotten sequel in the LJ Tibbs series, he would have been laughed out of his editors office, because the plot would be too ridiculous.

"I just do not want the two of them to make our mistakes," Ziva said softly. "We wasted so much time."

Tony turned the sausages on the grill.

"They'll work it out," Tony said softly. "We did in the end."

"Hopefully soon," Tim added. "It would make work so much easier."

Tony scoffed. No doubt thinking of the oft-broken rule twelve.

Tim was still not clear on how many times Tony and Ziva had broken the infamous rule when they were both in the team, nor what exactly happened during that summer Gibbs was in Mexico, and Tony and Ziva seemed so close.

"I think you enjoy it," Tony said. "You get to be McVouyer, and go home and talk Delilah about it."

Tim frowned, most of what he and Delilah talked about these days was childcare arrangements, and which tv series they would optimistically load up to binge watch when the kids went to sleep only for them both to fall asleep by the second episode.

They needed a vacation. Maybe, they'd get one in the next five years.

"The two of you were not as interesting as you thought you were," Tim said. "I am glad you worked it all out."

"Us too," Tony said, as he moved another sausage ever so slightly.

Grilling was an art not a science.

"I think we should eat out here," Ziva announced, as she looked out onto the yard. Senior was engrossed in Johnny's art. Morgan and Tali were still playing by the tree. "The weather is still nice, and the children can have a picnic."

"Sounds good," Tony said, as he reached out for Ziva, resting his hand on her hip. "It's nice to have all this outdoor space. We should make the most of it."

Ziva opened the sliding door, and slipped into the house. Her red mules, the type of shoe Tim could never picture wearing, at least when they all worked together, sounded like horse hooves on the hardwood floor.

"Want something stronger?" Tony asked, pointing the tongs toward the glasses of water. "We've got beer in the fridge."

Tim shook his head.

"Nah," he said. "I've still gotta drive."

That and he was running on about twelve hours sleep for the whole week.

"Are you still okay to take Dad back?" Tony asked, as he flipped one of the burger patties.

Senior's apartment was minutes away from Tony's old apartment, which Ellie now lived in, and only fifteen minutes away from Tim and Delilah's new three bedroom apartment. It made sense for Tim to take Senior home, rather than have Tony make the trip out there and then turn around and drive for another forty minutes to get home.

"Of course," Tim said, "It's the least I can do, after today."

He had arrived at the David-DiNozzo house mid-morning and absolutely depleted. Delilah was in Dubai, trying desperately to get her career back on track. It had been her career that had been sidelined during the pandemic, when the daycares were closed, and she was deemed high risk. Arguably it had been Delilah's career that had taken the backseat when they had the twins.

When they had found out about the pregnancy, Tim and Delilah had those late night conversations promising that they would equal in parenting.

Then Tim had gotten captured in Paraguay, one baby had turned into two, and it all became very real. Their lofty idealistic parenting conversations fell by the wayside.

Then Delilah's mother gave up her tenured position at a prestigious university to move to DC to be closer to them, and fill the gaps in their childcare arrangement. They both knew they leaned on her too heavily, but she kept their house of cards from falling.

When they were both home, the parenting load was definitely shared equally, and based on who could do what, but Tim was home much less than Delilah.

In that little hospital room, while Delilah slept, Tim had held a baby in each arm, and promised not to be his Dad.

Family would always come first.

But balance was so much harder in practice than it was in theory.

"All we did was take the kids off your hands for a couple of hours," Tony said.

While Delilah was in Dubai, the team had caught a rather intense case that needed Tim's computer skills, leaving Tim juggling the balls of work and family, without catching any of them. Delilah's mother had stepped in to do the end of day pick up, and got the twins to bed. He had aimed to get home for bedtime each night, but between traffic, and witnesses living in far flung places, most of the bedtime stories that week had been over facetime.

When the team had closed the case on Friday lunchtime, he was glad it was over, but also so exhausted.

By the time he arrived at Tony and Ziva's house eighteen hours later, the exhaustion had not left him, and his friends had seen through his veneer.

Within minutes, Ziva had started cooking scrambled eggs, declaring the cereal was not a real breakfast, and a plan had been made. Tony and Ziva would take Tali and the twins to the park down the street for at least an hour, giving Tim some quiet time, and then once they got back they would all do something in the house together, something that required limited parental supervision.

"It was a good nap," Tim said. "Best, I've had in a long time."

Tony smirked, and then turned down the heat on the grill.

Tim had tried to ignore the awkwardness of being almost alone in someone else's home, when he settled in on the couch with a podcast, and before the first episode had finished he was asleep.

He was awoken three hours later, to Morgan and Johnny climbing all over him, and Ziva asking what he wanted for lunch.

Over a messy lunch, where his job was to supervise the kids at the table, while Tony and Ziva ate while standing at the counter, the kids had recounted their day. They had stepped into the library for a bit of air conditioning after their walk to the park, and found a toddler story time class, which Tony had taken the twins to, while Ziva and Tali picked up some new books to borrow.

Then they had gone to the park, and Tali had seen a dog.

In the last eight hours, Tim had learnt that Tali really liked dogs.

And, also that Tali really wanted a dog.

"It's a good sleeping couch," Tony said. "I've had many good sleeps there."

"You guys have only been in this house a month," Tim said. "And, Ziva's already sent you to the couch."

Tony shook his head.

"No," he said softly. "We don't go to bed angry, but I've had that couch a while, and definitely fell asleep there a few times when Ziva wasn't with us."

Tim felt an ache in his gut.

In this little garden, miles away from the Navy Yard, it was easy to forget that it had only been a little over two years since he found out that Ziva was alive.

It had only been a little over a year and a half since Jimmy had driven Ziva to the airport, so she could reunite with Tony and Tali just in time for Christmas.

How far they'd come.

"It's been a good day," Tony said, as he looked out at the garden. Tali and Morgan had abandoned the tire swing, and moved to the driveway, and started drawing with the sidewalk chalk. Senior stood proudly over his little artists. "Tali doesn't really get a chance to hang out with younger kids, and we worry sometimes that we don't socialise her enough."

"I guess cousins are good for that," Tim said.

Not that Tim had grown up with cousins.

He had resisted Tony referring to Tali as the twins' cousin at first, but now watching them play in the garden, it felt right.

They were a family. A weird family, but a family nonetheless.

"Yeah," Tony said. "I think she enjoys being the bossy big cousin, I was always the annoying little cousin."

There was a light knock from inside the house, and Ziva stood behind the sliding door, her arms full, with a plate of bread balanced on a salad bowl.

Tim rushed to open the door, and Ziva stepped through. Her mules clip-clopped on the deck.

"Did you have cousins?" Tim asked Ziva, as he took the bread from her, and laid in on the table.

Ziva placed the salad on the table, and Tim peaked inside the bowl to survey the contents. Within a second he knew his kids wouldn't touch the salad.

He wondered if Tali would eat it, but then again she'd lived in France for so long that she was practically French, and all those guilt-laden parenting books said French kids ate nearly everything.

"No," Ziva said, sadness seeping into her voice. "But, in the apartment building I grew up in, there was always a gang of kids to hang out with. It is good for children to have other children to spend time with. We are trying to find that for Tali."

Tim stood still for a second, taken aback by how openly Ziva talked about her childhood, and related it to Tali's childhood.

This Ziva was a different iteration, lighter and less burdened despite everything that had happened to her.

Tim just wished that one of those kids she had hung around with, hadn't been the man who killed her father.

"We would like to give her a sibling," Ziva said, looking out to where the kids were playing. "But, we know that would be different, with the age difference."

Ziva turned to Tony, and they shared a look, a longing look.

Tim thought of his own childhood, of the baby sister thrust on him just before his tenth birthday. Of the sister that was loved, but trapped their mother in a decaying marriage for another decade.

Tim's relationship with Sarah was so different from Delilah's relationship with her sister who was only separated in age by twenty two short months. The Fielding sisters had inside jokes, and bickered over transatlantic skype calls.

With Sarah, it felt like they had grown up in different houses.

The Admiral had been kinder to Sarah, and putting less expectations on her.

Sarah was also closer to their mother, less hurt by her new marriage, and the life she was building.

Sarah sent presents to the twins, and remembered birthdays, but their lives were so different.

Perhaps, if Sarah had kids they would find their way to each other again.

Perhaps, if Sarah had been the older sibling and Tim the younger things would have been different.

Perhaps, if Sarah had been born a boy, and felt the weight of their Dad's expectations things would have been different.

"Wow," Tim muttered, as Ziva slipped back into the house, closing the sliding door softly.

Tim tried to not to stare at the red shoes. This Ziva was a different Ziva.

"Yeah," Tony said, as he lifted a veggie kebab up with the tongs to inspect it. "Pretty crazy, right."

Tim thought of the scare had and Delilah had just before his vasectomy, and the relief that had washed over him when Delilah had announced that she had gotten her period. As ridiculous as he had been about his little snip, he was glad he had done it. He could not imagine having a baby in the middle of the pandemic.

We were so lucky with the twins, Delilah had said as she suggested the vasectomy, I don't want our luck to run out.

Pregnancy had wreaked havoc on her body. She had fought so hard to regain her independence after the injury, and pregnancy put so many limits on her. The transfers she had mastered became difficult, and low level fear they lived with of a UTI becoming serious was heightened for six months.

Especially when they found out there were two babies.

"We know it's crazy," Tony said. "I mean I just turned fifty, and Tali's already seven. Maybe, if we hadn't been through so much, things would be different."

Tim thought again of Jimmy and Breena, who had been trying to give little Tori a sibling before the pandemic, and had yet to be successful. They were not looking to expand their family through fostering.

Not all pregnancies happened so easily.

"Because you both missed stuff?" Tim asked.

Tony looked down at his feet.

"We know we can't change the past," Tony said, "And it would not be to replace Tali or make up for anything. We just really want this."

Tim nodded.

He thought of one of those transatlantic calls he and Tony shared when the twins were young, where Tony admitted that sometimes it was hard to look at photos of the twins and not think about what he missed with Tali.

The twins were now three going on four, right in the middle of the years Ziva had been absent for.

"Do you think it was hard for Ziva to be around the twins today?" Tim asked. "Like it used to be for you."

Tony looked down at his feet. At the boat shoes, he seemed to live in the warmer months, based on the photos he sent to their long running group chat.

Tim thought about the afternoon, where Ziva had helped the twins make cookies for Delilah and their grandmother, after they'd had their post lunch quiet time, and how she would move between looking at Morgan and looking at Tali, comparing and contrasting.

"Probably," Tony said. "We've both made peace with what happened, and we'll probably talk about it later, once Tali's in bed. We talk about stuff now."

"I hope it happens for you guys," Tim said softly. "Having another baby."

"Us too," Tony replied.

Tim looked over toward the kids, who were still enjoying hanging out with Senior.

Johnny then called Senior Pop-Pop.

Tim felt an ache in his gut, his children would never know either of their grandfathers.

Maybe they could adopt Senior, and Tali could share Delilah's mother, as she was lacking on the grandmother front. If only family could be easily reassembled with who was left, to fill in the gaps.

The twins will trade time with their grandmother for time with Tali's Pop-Pop.

Tim was sure that Senior would be happy to be an honorary Pop-Pop. When the twins had been born, the older man had left two gift baskets in front of the apartment. The sleep deprived new parents had assumed the presents were from Tony, but when Tim had called Tony to thank him for the presents, Tony had no idea.

"It's nice here," Tim said. "It's so close to the train too."

He looked around the garden, directing his gaze to the apartment building that jutted into the sky, by the metro station. Tony and Ziva had managed to get a unicorn of a house for the DC area; single family, reasonable price, and walking distance to a metro station on a reliable line.

And, if they ever finished the purple line, Tony and Ziva would be even better connected to some of the more exciting places in the region.

"Yeah," Tony said. "We got used to being able to walk or take transit everywhere in Paris, so it's been a bit of an adjustment driving almost everywhere."

Ziva knocked on the door again from the inside, and Tim opened the door. Ziva carried plates of various sizes and colours and placed them on the now-crowded table. She had a picnic blanket slung over her shoulder.

The red mules still seemed so un-Zivalike, and Tim was surprised Tony hadn't made any Wizard of Oz references.

"We should do this again," Ziva said, "With Delilah as well."

Tim looked back through the sliding door, and through to the front door, trying to work out how difficult it would be for Delilah to navigate the house. There were only two steps into the house, which they would be able to manage, and if Delilah wanted to get into the garden she could go out the front door and follow the path to the driveway, and then wheel down the driveway to reach the garden. It would be long winded, but doable.

"Yeah," Tim said. "It'll be good for the kids to hang out."

"And, I would like to get to know Delilah better," Ziva said, as she handed Tony a child sized plate for him to the start dishing up.

It was so strange to think that two women who had been in Tim's life for eight years and sixteen years respectively barely knew each other.

"And once you and Delilah get your McHouse, you guys can host," Tony said, as he put a sausage on the plastic plate.

Tim frowned, his and Delilah's house hunt moved at a snail's pace.

The plan, once they determined that Tony's apartment was too small, was to rent a two or three bedroom apartment, and then after about a year they would buy a place. They wanted the kids to have a forever home, and they wanted to be able to renovate, so Delilah could have a fully accessible bathroom rather than just make do like she had for the last seven years.

"Might have to wait a while," Tim said, as Ziva handed him the kid sized plate, so he could add the salad and bread for Morgan.

Their wishlist for the McHouse was short but hard to tick off. The home needed to be a reasonable commute to both McGee and Delilah's jobs, be all on one level with little renovation required, and in a good school district.

They usually managed two out of the three.

Accessibility was almost never one of the two they ticked off.

The stairs of the deck creaked, as Senior made his way up them, holding the railing tightly.

"Just in time," Senior declared. "The little Picassos are hungry."

The kids were following behind Senior, holding out their chalk covered hands. Ziva smiled, and placed the plastic plate she was holding on the table.

"Come on little ones," Ziva said, as she opened the sliding door. "Shall we wash our hands for dinner?

Ziva led the three kids through the sliding door, into the house, and up the stairs like the pied piper.

"You know the place across the street is for sale," Senior said, still holding onto the railing of the deck. "It has a ramp outside."

Tim had seen the single level ranch style house, when he had parked the car earlier that day, and had registered the ramp.

His and Delilah's house search had mostly focused on condos, as neither of them wanted to do lawn care, and so few of the available single family houses that were available were anything close to accessible.

There were just so many stairs in the DMV area.

Tim thought of the house across the street again, it would be a long commute for both Tim and Delilah, and miles from Delilah's mother's downsizer condo.

But, it would be across the street from family.

All the parenting books said that they needed a village, and maybe they could build a village with Tony and Ziva.

Senior shuffled along the deck and into the house.

"Are the schools good here?" Tim asked Tony.

Tony shrugged.

"Good, but overcrowded," Tony said, repeating something that Tim heard often. It seemed nearly every school in the region was at capacity. "We're sending Tali to the Jewish day school for now. Her old school was pretty small, and we think dumping her in a class of thirty-five would freak her out."

Tim looked back into the house, at his own kids' backpacks that were sitting on the couch, soon they would move from their little Montessori based preschool to a huge public school. It would be a big jump.

"I know she seems fine," Tony said softly, "But both Ziva and I worry that some of the stuff she went through, will come back to bite us. We liked the idea of her being somewhere smaller where there could be support, if she needs it."

Tim's stomach ached again. There had been so much pain.

Tim thought again of the house across the street, of the kids running between the two houses. Of easy Saturday afternoon barbeques. Of those moments that happened with planning between families that were close.

It had been like that on some of the bases, he had lived on as a kid, not with his family, but with other families. In the hot California summers, wives of the enlisted would go between each other's houses, carrying paddling pools, wine coolers and with sunburnt kids trailing behind them.

"We were looking into the international school near Bethesda," Tony continued, as he loaded the plates for the kids. "She went to an International School when we lived in Paris, but when we went on the tour we didn't like it. It was so buttoned up. The Jewish school was more relaxed, Ziva was worried that I might feel a bit left out, but there's a few interfaith families there, we're on an email list for interfaith families."

Tim felt a laugh roll through him.

"You okay?" Tony asked.

"I just can't believe we're here," Tim said, still smiling. "Talking about schools and with our kids upstairs washing their hands. I mean a decade ago I didn't even know Delilah, and you and Ziva, well you and Ziva were. Actually, who knows what you and Ziva were doing a decade ago."

Tony let out a laugh.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" he said. "Look at us now, you managed to find a woman who agreed to marry you-"

"At least I'm married," Tim interjected.

"Ziva and I will be," Tony said, "In about six weeks. We're gonna do it right here, with a chuppah and everything."

Tony pointed to the yard.

"Were you going to tell anyone about this?" Tim asked.

It would be very on brand for Tony and Ziva to elope.

"All four members of the McFamily are going home with an invitation this evening," Tony said, his voice calm. "And I have to go to a meeting for my new job on Tuesday, so I was gonna get the metro to the Navy Yard, and give invites out to the rest of the crew."

"You know you have to change lines to do that," Tim said.

Tim was pretty sure Tony never used the DC metro when he last lived in the states.

Paris had changed him, mostly for the better.

"I know," he said. "And, if I plan it right, I'll avoid the rush hour when I go home. I'm too old to stand for thirty minutes."

Tim marveled at the changed man before him, who had finally seen the merits of public transit.

"So, you're gonna do it right here?" Tim asked, "In the yard?"

Tony nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "It's gonna be super casual, I mean we already have a seven year old, and Odettte's bringing her dog. So we can't exactly do a sit down dinner, and that's not really our style."

"You're saving yourselves a lot of stress," Tim said, remembering the big July wedding he and Delilah had planned but had, eloping in the apartment instead. With a dead body under the floorboards.

"We've had enough stress," Tony said. "We just want to have everyone we love, and everyone who's helped up get to this point, to be in a room together, while we say all the things we should have said already."

"I can't wait," Tim said.

"Neither can Tali," Tony replied. "She has a lot of opinions about the wedding planning. We're letting her choose the cake. So we're probably going to end up with a pink wedding cake."

Tim smirked.

"We're not doing a wedding party," Tony said. "I mean if we include the dog, it's still going to be less than twenty guests, but we do need four people to hold the chuppah. Do you wanna be one of them?"

Pride warmed Tim.

He was proud of his friends for finally getting themselves sorted out.

He was proud to be one of the people holding up the chuppah for them.

"Yeah," Tim said. "I'd like that."

"Good," Tony said, as the sliding door opened, and the kids ran out onto the deck, showing off their clean hands.

"We're hungry," Morgan declared, speaking for all three of them.

Ziva laid down the picnic blanket on the grass, and the kids took their seats. Tony carried the plates down the stairs, where the kids waited, with their tanned legs crossed, and hungry eyes.

"Welcome Ladies and Gentleman," Tony announced, in a silly voice, as he laid down the plates. The kids giggled. "Tonight's chef's special is fusion of good ol' fashioned American barbeque, and Israeli grill."

Ziva came back up onto the deck, to collect a chair for Senior, so he could enjoy the picnic too. Her face was plastered with a smile.

Tim googled the real estate listing for the house across the street, checked that the house was actually accessible, and sent it to Delilah, with the message.

Two out of three, but look at the location.

Then he both his and Senior's plates, and walked down the steps to have dinner with his children.

A/N: I don't own a thing.

Sorry, there was no chapter last week. This chapter went through a lot more drafts than my normal process.

I am not a parent, nor do I have direct experience with a spinal cord injury, but from what I've seen of the post S10 NCIS world, the writers/producers seem to leave a lot of gaps when writing about Tim's personal life. Hence, slipping 'thoughts' about those aspects of Tim's life into something from his point of view.

I am not a wheelchair user, nor part of an interabled relationship, so I hope I did that justice. I did do some research, but I probably got a lot wrong, so please let me know.

Those who have read other stuff I've written, will probably recognise aspects of this chapter, such as Tony asking Tim to help hold chuppah for a David-DiNozzo wedding, so I hope it wasn't too boring.

Next chapter will discuss the expansion of the DiNozzo family.

I'm hot and cold about making the McFamily the DiNozzo's opposite neighbours, so dear readers I would love to hear your thoughts.

Thank you for all your reviews and kind words so far. I am so far behind on review replies but please know I appreciate them.