Ziva woke with a startle, as the door of her and Tony's bedroom opened. The hinge let out an angry squeak, and Ziva looked toward the door, waiting to see the top of her daughter's head, her little curls were messy from sleep.
Tony let out a snore. He was not so easily stirred.
Ziva had accepted that she would always be a light sleeper. She had been trained to view everything as a threat, and that training was muscle memory. She had only been a few years older than Tali, when her father first put a gun in her hands.
"Boker Tov, Tali," Ziva whispered as Tali crept closer to the bed, moving toward Tony's side of the bed.
Tali waved at her from the foot of the bed.
Ziva pulled herself up, and patted the middle of the bed. This was what their mornings involved now, Tali sneaking into their bedroom, wanting cuddles, and falling back to sleep between her parents. Those moments reminded Ziva, of when it was just two of them curled in the big bed in the farmhouse. Tiny Tali starfishing on the bed. Ziva soaking in her daughter's scent, and trying to work out how to tell Tony about the miracle they had made together.
Ziva would miss the lazy mornings, once Tali went back to school.
Tali shook her head, and sunk her teeth into her lips. She moved closer to Tony.
Tali was hiding something. She still went to Tony first, when things were hard or scary.
Occasionally, Tali called out for Daddy and Ima, but always Daddy first.
Trust had to be rebuilt and sturdy foundations were built slowly.
Ziva looked up at the ceiling, at the crack that was growing. As the lockdown was ending, she and Tony had started talking seriously about moving. The apartment was just too small for all of them, and the landlord was slow to fix things.
They wanted a guest room, a garden, and a second bathroom, things Ziva was not sure they would find in Paris.
Tali tugged at Tony's hand, that hung over the bed.
"Daddy's tired," Ziva said, "I can help you, Motek."
Tali shook her head. Ziva felt the sting of rejection. It physically hurt.
"Need Daddy," Tali said.
Ziva wondered if her daughter had wet the bed. Those little accidents had stopped, almost as quickly as they started, but as Ziva was learning healing was not linear.
Ziva sniffed the air, usually when Tali had an accident the smell followed her, but the bedroom smelt no different than it had before Tali entered.
"Daddy," Tali all but shouted in Tony's ear.
Tony woke with a startle. His hand rushing to his ear.
"It's early, Tali," Tony said, releasing his morning breath into the room.
"What do you need, Tali?" Ziva asked, trying to keep her voice soft. "Let Daddy sleep."
Tali moved closer to Tony, and whispered something in Tony's ear.
Ziva craned her neck to try and hear, but all she could make out was 'Ima' and 'special'.
"It's still too early," Tony murmured. His eyes still closed.
"Ima's already awake," Tali said, in a stage whisper.
Tony opened his eyes, and looked at Tali. Then he turned over, and looked at Ziva. He flashed her his thousand-watt grin.
"Morning," he said, before yawning.
Ziva frowned.
"Is everything okay?" Ziva asked, trying to keep her voice calm.
She had thought they were making progress, but it seemed that it was two steps forward and one step back.
He let out another yawn.
"Yeah," he said, as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Ziva's forehead. "Go back to sleep. You've been doing all the mornings, it's my turn."
Ziva did not mind, she was an early riser, and she loved the slow mornings of the lockdown. She loved padding around the apartment, and organising breakfast. She loved hearing her daughter recount her strange dreams.
Ziva looked at Tali, who was standing with her hands on her hips, looking like a little old lady.
"Come on, Daddy," Tali said.
"All right," he said. "You're quite the task master, Tali. Go get ready, I'll meet you in your room."
Tali scampered out of the room into the living area.
"She gets that from you," he declared. "That bossiness."
Ziva looked at the open door.
"What is going on?" Ziva asked, anxiety seeping into her voice. She made no attempt to hide it from Tony.
Tony found his bathrobe, and stood at the foot of the bed.
"Nothing bad," he said softly, sitting down on the bed, and reaching for her hand. He squeezed her hand. "Tali wanted to do a surprise for you."
Ziva felt a weight lift off her chest. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to hide the tear that was trying to fall.
"Sorry," she whispered, feeling shame wash through her, "I did not mean to ruin it."
She was always expecting the worst, for the other shoe to drop.
"Tali's been planning it all week," he said. "It'll be ready in thirty minutes, think you can pretend to be asleep for that long?"
Ziva wondered when exactly, Tony and Tali had been able to plan something without her noticing. The three of them had been on top of each other, for nearly two months.
Still, she trusted them. She trusted him.
"I can," she said. "And, I promise to act surprised."
Tony smiled, one that went right up to his eyes.
"Daddy," Tali called. "I need your help."
"You better go," Ziva declared. "It is best not to keep her waiting."
Tony got up from the bed, and walked out of the room. He closed the door as he left.
It was just Ziva and her thoughts, and there was no chance of her going back to sleep.
Tali's voice carried through the gaps in the door. Tony kept calling Tali, chef.
It seemed the surprise involved breakfast, that explained why Tali had asked Ziva to rank her favourite breakfast foods, while they were practicing her spelling words.
Why had she declared her favourite breakfast to be oatmeal? Oatmeal was practical and sensible, but it was not fun.
Ziva looked longingly at the door, wanting to be on the other side. She wanted to be stirring eggs, and supervising Tali as she chopped tomatoes into tiny pieces, with that dummy knife they made her use. Ziva wanted to watch as Tony took long sips of his coffee and slowly came to life.
Ziva had missed so much, so many little moments, that she never wanted to miss a single second.
Ziva pushed at the covers, it was getting warmer, and now that the lockdown was easing they could actually enjoy it. Tony planned to be out all day tomorrow, while Tali was at school.
DiNozzo's shouldn't be caged, Tony had said, as soon as the end was announced.
Ziva scanned the bedroom, noticing the basket of laundry, she had been meaning to sort out. These quiet minutes would give her the chance to do that, but she did not get out of bed.
She stretched out in the bed, moving into the center, and catching a whiff of Tony's lingering scent.
It had been almost five months since she came home. Almost five months of sharing a bed every night, the longest she had ever consecutively shared a bed with someone.
It had been the best five months of her life. The months had not been easy, but they had been healing.
Tali's giggle filtered the room.
"Eww, that's slimy," she squealed.
Ziva smiled.
She loved that child, with everything she had, and miles more than she would ever love herself.
A car horn beeped outside, and Ziva tried to guess how long she had to pretend to be asleep for.
She turned over in bed, and found a pile of books on her nightstand. After multiple nights of broken sleep, she and Tony had decided to go analog in the bedroom. It was too easy to pick up the phone, and bathe in the blue light of the screens.
Tony's phone was plugged in, in the random plug outside of the bathroom, close enough for a late night call to wake them, but far enough away to make scrolling the news an effort.
Tony was falling asleep, almost the minute his head hit the pillow. Ziva was sleeping as well as could be expected.
They had also managed a few late night rolls in the hay.
Ziva picked up the first book on the pile, and cracked the spine. She found her place easily, and squinted at the pages.
She needed reading glasses, and was planning to make an eye doctor appointment now that lockdown was easing. Tony had tried to make fun of her, calling her old, but the jabs washed over her.
Ziva David had never expected to live this long.
Every extra year she got was hard won.
Ziva shifted in the bed, and moved the book closer to her face, ignoring the dull ache in her bad wrist. The story came back to her, it was set in Istanbul, and featured a side of the city Ziva knew too well. It's seedy underbelly.
The heroine, a plucky woman born in the wrong place and time, continued her journey.
The book was no Faulkner, but Ziva knew reading great literature was a muscle. A muscle that had to be built up. Even, if she had down time during her time hunting down Sahar, she did not have the mental energy. She could not wrap herself in words as comfort.
Her new life had plenty of reading time, and plenty of books. There was a foreign language bookshop near her therapist's office, where she had been able to find the odd second hand book in Hebrew. Tony had a box of parenting books stowed under the bed. And, Tali was always looking for somebody to read to her.
That was always Ziva's favourite kind of reading. The two of them squished in Tali's tiny bed, with a book in front of them. Ziva loved watching her daughter follow along mouthing the words. Ziva hoped to share many more books with her daughter.
She had fought for those moments.
The story continued. The heroine became a prostitute, her only choice to be an independent woman in early nineteenth century Turkey, something Ziva knew from the prologue.
Ziva became so engrossed in the story that she mostly blocked out Tony and Tali, except for the odd crash of a pan.
Tony was not as quiet as he thought he was.
Then she heard the jangling of the door knob.
She closed her book and placed it on the pile. Then she slipped under the covers, and closed her eyes.
The door opened, and Ziva let out a fake snore for good measure.
"I told you she went back to sleep," Tony said in a stage whisper. "I'm not sure if I wanna wake her up."
"You already have," Ziva declared, as she opened her eyes, and stretched out her arms. "What have you two been doing?"
Tali jumped up on the bed, and snuggled into Ziva. She snuggled more freely now.
Tony stood at the end of the bed, and mouthed 'good job'. His bathrobe had flour on it.
Ziva pulled Tali close, wanting to take her in. Ziva could smell sugar. She wondered if breakfast included pancakes, the breakfast Ziva had ranked as her third favourite in Tali's survey. Tony had ranked pancakes his second favourite, after bacon and eggs.
"We have a surprise," Tali declared, as she looked at Ziva, with her beautiful big eyes. The eyes that were so much like her fathers. "For you."
"For me?" Ziva asked in an exaggerated voice.
Tali giggled. They were laying so close together that Ziva could feel the giggle rise through her daughter. Tali was getting so big, she would be six soon. Six.
This time six years ago, Ziva was just trying to tread water. Her body was not her own, taken over by a growing Tali. Her mind was slipping deeper into a dark place.
Then she had her daughter, and someone to fight for. Someone who needed her only slightly more than Ziva needed her.
"Yes," Tali said, "Because it's your special day."
Ziva cocked her head, and tried to work out what was so special about the day. She could not recall it being an anniversary of any form. At least not a happy one.
May had too many sad memories. Too many funerals.
"What day is it?" she asked.
"Sunday," Tony snarked.
"I mean why is today so special?" Ziva asked, as she studied her daughter's face.
"It's Ima Day," Tali announced gleefully.
"Why don't we show Ima what we did for her?" Tony announced, as he moved toward the door.
Tali crawled across the bed, and jumped off the bed. Ziva got up, and picked up her bathrobe.
Then Tali presented her with a scarf, the scarf Ziva had placed in Tali's go-bag. Tony had told her that in the early days, Tali would sleep with that scarf next to her in bed.
"What is this for?" Ziva asked.
"To cover your eyes," Tali said. "So you don't see your surprise."
Ziva felt her face redden, and her heart try to escape her chest.
A sandy cell tried to come back to her. Saleem's menacing laugh. She could hear it, but she could not see him. A dirty rag covered her eyes. Her arms were tied to the chair.
"We didn't talk about this," Tony said. "When we were planning."
"I just thought of it," Tali said.
Tony bent down in front of Tali, and took the scarf from her hand.
"I don't think we'll need it," Tony said softly.
Ziva took a deep breath, banishing the sandy cell. Reminding herself that she was home. She was with the two people that mattered most.
"But, then it'll be more of a surprise," Tali said.
"We can ask Ima to close her eyes," Tony said. "But, we don't need the blindfold, Ima doesn't do blindfolds."
The weight returned to Ziva's chest.
Why did she have to expose her daughter to her pain?
Why couldn't she be like other mothers?
Tali looked at Ziva, her head cocked and her mouth open slightly. She was making sense of it all.
Ziva wondered what the next few years would bring, as Tali became more aware of the world. Ziva was already debating how much of her history she would share.
She did not want her pain to become her daughter's.
Tali turned to her father.
"But what if she peeks?" Tali asked in a stage whisper. "You always peek."
Tony chuckled.
"Ima won't peek," Tony said. "I'll make sure of it."
"You promise?" Tali asked, holding out her pinky finger. Tony placed his pinky finger in hers and they twisted.
"Pinky promise," Tony replied.
Tali turned back to Ziva, and flashed Ziva a huge smile.
"Okay Ima," Tali said. "Let's go."
Tony pulled himself up, holding onto the bed.
Tali rushed out the door.
Ziva mouthed a 'thank you', to Tony. He nodded, then he stepped forward, and placed the scarf around Ziva's neck.
The scarf smelt like Tali. It felt like love.
"Remember no peeking," Tali called out from the living area.
"I'll tell you when to close your eyes," he said, as he took her hand.
They walked down the hallway, and then across the living area to the dining area. Ziva's eyes were closed for mere seconds.
"Open your eyes," Tali commanded.
Ziva opened them, and looked at the dining table. Three plates were set out with a small pile of pancakes on each of them. There were smaller bowls filled toppings in the middle of the table. On Ziva's place, was an envelope, and some flowers that had been fashioned out of the scrap paper in Tali's craft box. That explained the secret project, involving paper and scissors, Tali had been doing all week.
"What is all of this?" Ziva asked, as she sat down.
"It's Ima Day," Tali said, as she sat down at her seat. "In America."
Ziva pressed her knife and fork into the pancake and took a bite.
"Not just for your Ima," Tony said, as he poured orange juice into three glasses. "For all the Ima's."
"It is Mother's Day, today?" she asked, as she looked as she leaned across the table to help Tali put some toppings on the pancakes.
"Yeah," he said, as he handed out the glasses. "At least back home. Here it's usually at the end of the month, but it's not until June this year. We didn't want to wait to celebrate."
Tali took a greedy gulp of her drink.
Ziva leaned closer to Tony.
"Is this all your doing?" she asked.
Grand acts were his love language.
Tony shook his head.
"I am merely Tali's servant," Tony said. "This was all here idea."
"How did she know it was Mother's Day?" Ziva asked.
They had not been very good about keeping track of the days.
"Remember when she had a virtual playdate with autopsy gremlins spawn?" he asked.
The playdate conducted over Zoom, was an attempt by both sets of parents to keep the kids occupied. Tali and Tori were almost the same age, both were only children, and both sets of parents thought they needed social interaction.
The kids had been into it for exactly one minute. There was only so much playing you could do when the Atlantic ocean and six hours separated you.
"That lasted exactly five minutes," Ziva said.
"Which was long enough for Tori to show off her Mother's Day card," Tony replied.
It had not been long enough for Tori and Tali to compare notes on what it was like to be away from one's parents. When the stay-at-home orders started, Jimmy and Breena had sent Tori to Breena's mother, knowing that they both had a high chance of exposure. Tori had returned after Easter, even though the virus still raged. Ziva suspected that Jimmy and Breena just missed their baby too much, and were willing to take the risk.
"She was very concerned that she did not have a Mothers Day card for you," Tony announced.
Ziva turned to look at Tali, who had picked up her pancake, and was eating it like pizza.
"Daddy says we can celebrate both mothers' days, this year," Tali announced, syrup dripping from her pancake onto her pink pyjama top. "American Mother's Day, and French mother's day."
"It's nice to celebrate it," Tony said, his voice cracking. "It's been a while."
Ziva reached out for his hand, and squeezed it.
He had been just eight when his mother slipped away from him, and no stepmother had ever stuck around long enough to try and be a maternal influence.
"Do they have Mother's Day in Israel?" Tali asked.
Another apartment, high in the sky, came back to Ziva. Family day cards on the table, because when Ziva was a child the day had become more egalitarian. The early spring flowers in the vase, and all those kisses.
In a few short years, Ziva would be older than her mother ever got to be.
"Sort of," Ziva explained. "It is earlier in the year. Remember how I told you how the Hebrew calendar is different."
The time they had gained in the lockdown, had given Ziva the opportunity to teach Tali about the Hebrew calendar, and how to write Hebrew letters. Tali was so proud when she wrote her name in Hebrew.
"So, we missed it?" Tali asked, a frown blossoming over her face.
"I think two Mother's Days is enough," Tony said. "Even if we are making up for the last few years."
Ziva felt the weight on her chest again. She had missed so much, and there was so much she would never be able to make up for.
"Father's day here is on the same day, as it is in the U.S, is it not? " Ziva asked. "Next month."
"Yeah," Tony said. "It's very close to a certain person's birthday."
Tali would be six in a few short weeks.
Time marched on.
"And, we have to share it with Pop-Pop," Tony continued. "We'll have to organise a special video chat, this year."
"You don't have to share," Tali said, "Because I don't have any Grandmere's. Not like other people do."
Ziva flinched at her daughter's frankness.
"No, you do not," Ziva said. "But, I know my Ima would have loved you."
Then she wondered what her mother would make of her daughter. Rivka David would have cursed in every language she knew, if she had seen the mess that Tony and Ziva had made.
Or maybe, Ziva wouldn't have been so scared, if she had not lost her mother so young. Her safe place.
"Mine would have too," Tony said quickly. "More than the whole wide world."
Tali smiled.
"Really," Tali said, dragging out the word.
"Yeah, my Mom would have loved you," Tony said. "She liked movies, and would have loved showing you movies."
"Like we did with Pop-Pop?" Tali asked. "The movies from when he was a kid."
"Yeah," he said. "She would have loved that."
Ziva felt a tear fall down her face. She wiped it quickly. She wished her daughter could have a big bustling extended family.
She wished her daughter had known her own mother's love.
"When I was a kid, my Mom and I used to get the train into the city," Tony said, "To see movies at this cinema she knew. One day we saw The Little Prince, I'll have to show it to you sometime."
"I've seen that," Tali announced.
"No, it's a different version," Tony explained. "It's not a cartoon."
Tali screwed up her face, she did not love live action films.
"Maybe, we can watch it later," Ziva said.
"But, it's Ima's Day," Tali said. "You get to pick the movie."
Ziva remembered the pumpkin walled breakroom at NCIS, and Tony's photos. The photo of his mother in front of the movie theatre. The promise that they would let each other in. If only, they had just kept letting each other in, instead of playing a game of two steps forward one step back.
"And, I pick that movie," Ziva said. "The Little Prince was one of my favourite books when I was your age."
"It's a book," Tali shrieked.
"Yeah," Tony said. "A book that got made into a movie."
Tali ate the last of her pancakes.
"Have we read the book?" Tali asked.
Ziva looked at Tony.
"Not yet," he said. "We'll have to get our hands on a copy."
Ziva thought of the bookshop near her therapist's office. Tali was probably a little young to take in the deeper message in the story, but would enjoy cuddling up with her parents and reading.
Tali touched the envelope on the table.
"You haven't opened the card," Tali said.
"I was hungry," Ziva replied, as she studied her daughter's handwriting. They had been practicing her letters during the endless days of lockdown. Ziva could see the improvement.
Ziva opened the envelope and slowly plucked out a piece of paper that had been fashioned into a card. The picture had a three person stick figure family and lots of little hearts dotted around them.
"This is beautiful," Ziva said.
Tali smiled.
"We couldn't go to the store," Tali said. "So I had to draw it."
"This is better than anything in the store," Ziva said. "It's unique."
"That's why I had to make the flowers," Tali said, wearing a frown.
"Now, I get to keep them forever," Ziva declared. "They are beautiful."
Ziva opened the card, and a slip of paper fell out. It looked like a ticket. She picked it up, and studied it. The piece of paper had three bubble letters that had been coloured in.
"It's an I.O.U," Tali announced, "Because, we can't go to the store and get you a present. It was Daddy's idea."
"Really?" Ziva said, as her eyes moved to the message in the card, the words written in different coloured pencils.
To Ima,
Happy Mother's Day.
I love you lots.
Love Tali David DiNozzo.
Ziva smiled, at her daughter's words. She had added the 'David' to her name when she had learnt that Ziva did not have the same last name as her and Tony. Adding Ziva's last name made it more fair, in Tali's eyes. And, Tali was obsessed with fairness.
Ziva had been so careful to make sure that there was no trace of her name in Tali's, when she sent her to Tony, that it was so strange to hear her last name between Tali's names.
"Yeah," Tony said. "I do have the occasional good idea."
"Thank you," Ziva said. "I do not know what I will use it for."
"You could get a book," Tali declared. "You have lots of books. That's what we would have got you, if we could."
Ziva thought again of the book store near her therapist's office, and the bright kids section with the mural of a jungle on the wall. She could so easily imagine Tali there, flicking through the picture books, and Tony lingering close by at the magazines. It could be a family adventure. Ziva could not wait to have those again.
Books had been something Ziva had shared with her own mother, and something she would share with her daughter.
"Ima can use it for whatever he wants," Tony said from his end of the table. "Hopefully, she'll spend it somewhere fun."
"I know just the place," Ziva declared.
A/N: I dont own a thing.
Thank you dear readers for all your kind words, and being so nice when I put Wonder Woman in the wrong comic book cinematic universe. I'm sure Tony wouldn't have made such a mistake.
Thank you for being so patient with the updates. This story has kinda devolved into domestic scenes, without much plot, so thanks for sticking around.
Thank you for reading. Stay safe.