A/N: The chapter is set in March 2020, and will feature mentions of COVID-19, as well as some anxiety surrounding that. I'm aware this is current for a lot of people, so please look after yourselves dear readers.
Tony unlocked the door of the apartment, and pushed on the door. The smell of baked goods filled his nose. He slipped his keys into his jacket, next to the car keys, and the crumpled up face mask. He hung the coat on his designated hook, and picked Tali's rain jacket up from the floor. She was so messy with her things.
Tali was sitting on the couch, wearing a plastic tiara from the dress-up box, and watching a French cartoon. Tony was too tired to try and make sense of the storyline.
It had been a long day.
Any visit to Charles de Gulle airport was exhausting, but it was even worse when there was a global pandemic.
"Daddy," Tali said, as she got up from the couch and revealed herself to be wearing her Princess dress over her school clothes. She held her arms out for a hug.
She had been clingy lately. Especially, after they sat her down to explain that Pop-Pop would be going home almost six weeks early.
"Let Daddy wash his hands," Tony announced. "Then we'll have a big hug. We could have a big squishy family hug, with Ima too."
He wanted to hold both of his girls. To keep them close. He had to keep them safe.
He had used hand sanitizer liberally, on his way to the airport, one his way back, and on the four block walk from the car park to the apartment.
Tali frowned. Then sat back down on the couch.
They had worked hard to keep this all from her. When they started their nightly habit of watching both French and American news, it was after Tali went to bed. With the volume as low as possible.
But, kid's were perceptive, and their house wasn't Tali's whole world. Her school spent much more time teaching the kids to wash their hands. The other kids were picking up on their parents' nervous energies, and whispered words, something about China and then Italy.
When her ballet classes were canceled for the time being, because her ballet teacher lived with someone who was immunosuppressed, Tali had asked if it was because of the virus, and they had to say yes. Tali's little lip had wobbled as they spoke.
When it was decided that Senior would be going home almost six weeks early, they had explained it was because of the virus. And, Tali had been much less stoic. She had slammed the door on her bedroom so hard, that door still did not shut right.
Tony had been close to tears, when he had to cancel the date he had planned for him and Ziva. A romantic river cruise along the Seine.
Tony walked into the kitchen, and found Ziva was also wearing a plastic crown.
"Are we having a tea party?" Tony asked, as he studied the cookies on the baking tray.
The cookies were triangle shaped, with the edges folded over, and fillings in the centre.
"Not exactly," Ziva said, as she moved across the kitchen and turned on the tap. Tony put his hands under the cold water. Ziva squeezed some green hand soap into his hands. Tony rubbed his hands together and watched the bubbles foam. "It is Purim today."
"Purim," he repeated, as he ran through the Jewish calendar in his head. All he could come up with was Jewish Halloween. "That's the dress up one, right?"
He rubbed his fingers with his other fingers. The soap foamed, making thick bubbles. The smell of the soap burnt his nostrils.
"Yes," Ziva said. "It is a minor holiday, but I thought it might be a good distraction for Tali."
Tony frowned and reached up to turn off the water. He grabbed the tea towel, and dried his hands. His hands rubbed on the cloth. He made a mental note to 'borrow' some of Ziva's hand cream later.
"How was pick-up?" he asked, as he leaned over the kitchen counter and checked on Tali. She was engrossed by the screen.
The television was their favourite babysitter. One they were trying to wean her off of, but had no chance if they ended up in lockdown like the news said.
Ziva picked up the saucepan lid, and steam filled the kitchen. Ziva poked something with a fork. Then closed the lid.
"She had lots of questions," Ziva said. "One of her classmates' family is from Portugal and her grandmother is staying in Paris until this is over. She wanted to know why your father had to go."
Tony sighed.
How did one explain visa's and the European union to a five year old?
Could Tali even say Schengen zone?
"You know I thought about that," Tony said. "I even called the U.S embassy to see what our options were. I liked the idea of having him close."
Ziva moved closer to him, and snaked her arm around his waist. Tony leaned into the touch.
"I told Tali that there was not room for him," Ziva said. "And, she said she would have shared her room with him."
Tony smirked. Tali's room barely contained all of her toys. There was no room for a guest.
Tali also tended to sleep talk.
"We would have killed each other," Tony said. "Dad and I function better when we have time apart."
Ziva smiled.
"I told Tali we will Skype as often as we can," Ziva said. She took a deep breath, and looked around the room. This was nerves. "Then she asked why we did not skype when I was away."
Away, was the best euphemism for it, but did not nearly describe those three years.
Tony let out a breath slowly. He studied Ziva's face. Her bottom lip wobbled, just like Tali's did.
He easily pictured the scene. Tali scooting along the sidewalk. Ziva balancing Tali's school bag on her shoulder. A question that would make her stop still in the middle of the crowds.
"What did you say?" he asked.
Tali had asked him the same question, after she woke up, and found Tony skyping the McUncle.
Can we do that with Ima?
No Ima doesn't do Skype, Tony said, as he took her into his arms. At four years old she was growing like a weed. And, it's past your bedtime.
That night he had let Tali settle in his bed, even though he was trying to get her to sleep on her own. He needed the comfort as much as she did.
"I explained that I did not have Skype," Ziva said, her voice shaky. "And that I wish I did, because then I could have seen her. I told her I missed her very much."
It was a half truth built on a house of cards. One that would fall apart once Tali was older.
Tali had been full of questions in the last few weeks. She had asked Ziva about the scar on her wrist. When Ziva had explained that she had gotten hurt, Tali had said that the scar was so bad, because Tony was not there to kiss it better.
This was progress. Tali and Ziva had built trust. Now that Tali trusted Ziva, she wanted answers.
"She is going to want more answers one day," Ziva mumurred. "I worry about that sometimes."
Ziva worried about a lot of things.
"And, we'll give them to her," he said as he reached for her hand. "Let's just get through the next few weeks first."
Ziva nodded, and gave him a slight smile.
"How was the airport?" she asked.
Tony sighed.
"Honestly," he said. "It was pretty scary. All these people were walking around in masks. I know Dad said he wanted to go home, but I wonder if we did the right thing. I mean D.C is so far away."
What if something happened and Tony could not get to him?
Senior was in his late eighties, and everyone they encountered liked to remind them that Senior was high risk.
"We will Skype everyday," Ziva said, using the same voice she used with Tali. "And, we organised for him to get some groceries. Ellie said she will try to call him every few days, to check in on him."
They had done everything they could.
"I know," Tony said. "It just doesn't feel like enough."
"Tali said some of her classmates have gone home," Ziva said. "That Australian family with the twins left over the weekend."
Tony knew the family she was talking about. The mother was perpetually tanned and spoke of the Hemsworth family like they were friends, as she apparently hailed from the same beach side town that Thor and his family lived in.
Sometimes Tali's fancy international school reminded him of his own school days. He had classmates who went on exclusive vacations, and had parents who came from famous political families. He did not want Tali to think it was normal. He did not want Tali to develop a complex about her parents' more modest lifestyle.
Maybe, he should have chosen something more local.
"I know it's not practical," he said. "But, a part of me wishes we were going home too."
Home. It had been so long since he had called it home, but since Ziva came home and they were finally free, it had become apparent that D.C was home.
Maybe, one day they would go home. Forever.
"We could," Ziva said, as she pulled out his phone from his pocket. She unlocked it, as if it was her own. She pulled up a flight app. "We could get on a plane."
This was Ziva. Always ready to run.
If it was just the two of them, maybe they could hop on a plane and work it all out later, but Tali needed routine. Tali needed somewhere nice to go to sleep.
Besides, they couldn't outrun this one.
"We don't have anywhere to stay," Tony said, as Ziva typed in the search bar. He started to think of all the reasons to stay; Tali's school, the only home she really knew, and her mental state. A global pandemic was no time to try and move countries. "Can't exactly kick out the McFamily, or crash with Dad, he's in a studio."
Technically, there was Gibbs' house, but Tony did not like that idea. He and Gibbs had barely said anything since Tony left. A global pandemic was no time to rebuild relationships.
"I know," Ziva said, as she gave him his phone. "And, Tali's life has been disrupted enough this year."
Tony rubbed the scar on Ziva's wrist. She had started to wear clothes with shorter sleeves since Tali had asked about the scar. She no longer worried about the scar scaring Tali.
"Besides," he said. "It's not like we can outrun this. It's worldwide."
Ziva shook her head.
"I am tired of running," she whispered. "So tired."
It was decided, they would stay put.
The pot boiled over, and Ziva moved across the tiny kitchen, lifted the lid, and steam filled the tiny room.
"Did Tali's school say anything?" he asked. "About what they would do if they close the school."
"Nothing more than the email," Ziva said, as she put the lid back on the pot. "The e-learning platform looks quite advanced. It has videos and there would be daily check ins. It seems like a lot of screen time."
Tony creeped across the kitchen and studied the cookies.
Ziva had made similar cookies for the team once. The Spring after Ray betrayed her. She had come in with the box of cookies, and talked to Ducky about Purim. Ducky had known the story, because Ducky knew everything.
Tony felt an ache in his gut.
Ducky, like Senior, was in extra danger because of his age.
What if they never saw Ducky again?
"My therapist is wanting to try an online session, to test the technology," Ziva said, her words tentative. "We have one booked in for tomorrow."
"Okay," he said. "I'll make sure I'm not here."
He'd been thinking about driving out to the Costco-like supermarket deep in the exurbs. They only had one hundred rolls of toilet paper. They needed more.
And, maybe a chest freezer too.
"You do not have too," Ziva said. "I will be in the bedroom. You can be out here."
"I'll give you some privacy," he said. "Besides we need to stock up."
"We have enough food for weeks," she said, shaking her head. "And enough toilet roll for the rest of the year."
"I want enough food for a month," he said. "Just in case."
"The news said if there is a lockdown," Ziva started. "They would not close the supermarkets."
"I know," he said. "But, I just want to be prepared."
He could not change this, but he could be prepared. Part of living in a country where one was not a citizen, was knowing that if things went wrong the government did not owe you a thing.
One day, someone with a stamp could end their Parisian sabbatical.
He stood in front of the cookies. He needed something to wash this anxiety down with.
"Those are for after dinner," Ziva said.
"I won't tell Tali, if you don't," Tony said.
"Tali counted out the cookies," Ziva said. "She knows exactly how many we are each getting. It is going to be split equally."
Tali was obsessed with fairness at the moment.
Tony stepped back.
"What are these called anyway?" he asked.
"Hamantaschen," Ziva announced. "My mother used to make these with us. I wanted to share that with Tali."
Tony nodded. He studied the cookies, not all of them were perfect. Some were clearly made by Tali, with the wonky shape and leaking filling.
Tony found those cookies adorable.
"And these cookies are specially for Purim?" he asked.
"Yes," Ziva said. "They are supposed to be Haman's hat. I thought I might explain the story to Tali over dinner."
"I got her books," he said. "All the books."
"Books?" Ziva repeated.
"Yeah," he said. "I would order them from Amazon, and Breena sent us a few. Tali and I read Hanukkah Mama, Christmas Daddy, and Hoppy Passover dozens of times."
Tony felt a warmth in his heart, as he remembered a smaller Tali all curled up next to him, as they flicked through the pages. Tali's eyes wide as she studied the pictures.
"You read her Jewish books?" Ziva asked.
"Well not just Jewish books," he said. "We read Tango Makes Three a few times, and Breena sent us a lot of books about single Dad families. But yeah, we read lots of Jewish books."
"For me?" Ziva asked.
"Yeah," Tony said. "But, mostly for her. Being Jewish is passed on by the mother right. I knew I probably couldn't do it properly, but I tried. We had books, and the menorah."
"I saw that," Ziva said.
"There's also a ton of videos online," he said. "We watched a lot of cartoons. I tried to find some Hebrew ones, but I wasn't consistent with that."
"Why did you do all of that?" Ziva asked.
"I figured you'd want that," Tony said. "For Tali to know she was Jewish, so that when you came back, it would be easier. And if-"
He sunk his teeth into his lips. He couldn't say this.
"And if?" Ziva asked.
Tony swallowed thickly.
"And if, something happened and you couldn't come home, I wanted her to have that knowledge base," Tony started, his voice shaky. "So, if she wanted to explore it later, she could. I wanted her to have that connection to you."
Ziva swallowed thickly.
"Did you worry about that?" she asked. "That I might not come home."
"Sometimes," he admitted. "Tali and I, both had some bad days."
Too many bad days to count.
"All I wanted was for the two of you to be safe," Ziva admitted. "I did not think of anything else. I knew you would take care of her. That was all that mattered."
Maslow's hierarchy of needs.
First you survive.
Then comes everything else.
For so long Ziva David was always fighting just to survive.
"Thank you," Ziva said after a few quiet seconds. "For doing this with her. It means a lot."
"It was just a few books," he said with a shrug. "And some videos. I don't know how far it would have gone. The Jewish community here can be quite insular. Or maybe, my French is just that bad."
Ziva smiled.
"I have not always done the organised side of things," Ziva admitted. "It is about the traditions, and passing them on. When Tali was little, I used to imagine sharing these traditions with her. When she started to talk I imagined her reading the questions at a Passover Seder."
"That's next month isn't it?" he asked. "Just before Easter?"
Tali's school calendar included the holidays from all the major religions.
"Yes," Ziva said. "I was rather looking forward to having a small celebration. It would have been just before your father flew out. It would not have been too religious. Just about the food, and sharing it with Tali."
Tony frowned.
"We can still have a celebration," Tony said. "We'll Skype Dad. He'd love it."
"I would like that too," Ziva said, with a slight smile.
Quiet passed between them.
Tali's cartoon played on the television. She started to giggle. Her laugh was such a sweet sound.
One of his favourite sounds in the world.
"Have you met the Rosenthal's?" Ziva asked. "In Tali's class."
"They have a boy, right?" he asked.
A boy who seemed to always be wearing some sort of stain on his clothes.
"Yes," Ziva said. "Asher."
Tali still thought boys had cooties.
"They are American too," Ziva said.
"Yeah," he said. "Isn't she some sort of journalist."
He felt a twist in his gut. Lately, he had been feeling the void of a career. He had been a cop, in some form of another for over two decades. Then he had become just a Dad.
Ziva had asked him a couple of months ago, if he wanted to be 'retired' forever, and he was not sure.
Could he find that elusive balance?
Two cups. Work and family.
"Yes. They are Jewish too," Ziva said. "Sara and I talk sometimes while we wait for the children. She was planning a Passover dinner, her parents were coming. She does not think it will happen, but she might do something for Rosh Hashanah."
Tony smiled.
"Look at you making friends in the school yard," he said. "Well done."
"You do not have many friends," Ziva said. "Sara said you always kept to yourself."
Tony's face burned.
"I didn't know who I could trust," Tony said. "Or, how to explain our very unique situation."
Ziva looked down at her feet.
"Sara has not asked," Ziva said. "Yet."
That yet hung in the air.
Sara Rosenthal wrote a regular column about unusual love stories. Tony wondered what she would make of his and Ziva's very complicated, very long tale.
And, their very messy happy ending.
"I like the idea of us making some parent friends," Tony said, knowing how lonely he had been in the last few years. "But I've tried to encourage Tali to be friends with Asher. She was not into it."
"Maybe things will be different in the fall," Ziva said. "Besides it may not happen. Who knows what the next few months will bring."
Worry swirled in his gut.
His Dad was so far away.
"Whatever happens," he said. "We will be okay."
Ziva gave him a slight smile.
"We will," she said.
Tali's cartoon ended, and she ran into the kitchen.
"Daddy," she shouted. "Where is my hug?"
Tony took Tali's hand and led her out of the kitchen and to the dining area. He bent down, and wrapped his arms around Tali. He pressed his nose into her curls. She smelt sweeter than usual, like sugar.
Tali squirmed in the hug, so Tony let go.
"That good enough for you?" he asked.
Tali smiled, then wrapped her tiny arms around him.
"Ima said you needed a big hug," Tali said. "Because you might be sad today, because Pop-Pop had to go home early. Are you really sad Daddy?"
Tony turned and looked to look at Ziva. She was emptying the saucepan into a colander over the sink.
"I was, but I feel better now," he said, as he leaned into the hug. "The cookies look yummy."
"Did you eat one?" Tali asked, as she broke the hug. Her face was all serious. Just like Ziva's. "Because they are for desert. It's Purim."
Tony chuckled slightly, and held up his hands.
"I promise," he said. "I haven't touched them."
"Good," Tali said. Her face was all serious. "Because we're getting four each."
Tony felt a laugh in his throat. Then he looked to Ziva, as she put the pasta through the sauce. They ate a lot of pasta these days, it was one of the few things Tali would reliably eat.
"Ima needs a hug too," Tali announced. "Big squishy hug."
Ziva turned the stove top down, wiped her hands on a tea towel, and walked toward them.
"If you insist," Ziva said, as she wrapped an arm around Tony, and another around Tali.
Tony pulled them both closer, and the three of them had a big squishy hug. Some of Ziva's hair tickled Tony's nose. Tali squirmed.
Tony closed his eyes as Tali started to wriggle out of the hug.
They were together. They were safe.
He was with his girls, and whatever happened he would be okay.
A/N: I don't own a thing.
Sorry, that there was no update last week. This pandemic is affecting my mental health. I work in banking, and my day is spent talking to a lot of people who have lost their jobs. That takes a lot from me. It's nothing like, the danger that medical personnel, cleaning staff, or shop workers were going through, but it's taking up a bit too much mental space right now.
I'm resetting my expectations on myself, and aiming for fortnightly updates right now. The quality might decline a little too. The plan for the fic has another ten chapters, seeing our babies right through until the end of the year. Please be patient dear friends.
The next two chapters will feature COVID-19. Then we'll skip ahead. I am very aware that I am writing about something very current. If you need to skip these chapters please do. Writing about this pandemic is helping me work through it, but I understand that strategy does not work for everyone. I'll keep putting notes on the top of chapters, when it features COVID.
Thank you for all the kind words, reviews, and love. It means a lot.
Stay safe out there friends.