Tony reached his hand up to his forehead and wiped some sweat from his brow. Paris in mid June was sweltering. Paris in June made him miss the United States, not because he had found memories of any particular June day, but because he missed air conditioning.
He enjoyed his life in Paris, especially now that Ziva was back, but he would give five years of his life, just to have an apartment with air conditioning. If they were set to have another sweltering summer like the year before, Tony would give seven years of his life for air conditioning.
He wiped his brow again, and then looked down at the scrap of pink wrapping paper in front of him. The corners were curling up, and the silver glitter that decorated the wrapping paper was all over the rug. Tony looked at the gift he had to wrap, a mini chemistry set, sent by Abby, and wondered if the paper he had cut was big enough.
Tony heard the front door of the apartment open.
"Tony," Ziva called. "Are you home?"
He heard her move through their tiny home. He could see her pulling off her sandals, huge black things with an orthopedic heel, and hang up her bag on her Tali-assigned hook. The wall behind the front door resembled a kindergarten cloakroom on a good day, and a Church basement jumble sale on a bad day.
"In here," he shouted. "It's a sweat box."
Their beloved offspring was at school, so Tony could have wrapped her birthday presents in their living room, and avoided sitting on the floor without back support, but it felt like he was playing with fire if it did that. It would be too easy for their little investigator to find a scrap of wrapping paper or a price tag near the fruit bowl.
"Are you hungry?" Ziva called out.
He was hot. His back ached from sitting on the floor. He was tired from another night of sleep broken by the heat. He was time-stressed, because he had to finish wrapping the gifts and get them to the hiding place, before they went to pick Tali up from school.
"Not really," he said. "I'm thirsty, can you bring me some water please?"
Tony then took the gift from Abby, and put in the center of the paper. It was definitely too small. Tony reached under the bed, and pulled out another roll of wrapping paper. It was a shimmery silver colour, left over from their Christmas stash, but not obviously-Christmasy. It would have to do.
It had not helped that Senior had ordered for half a toy store to be delivered to Tony's parcel locker, to make up for the absence the global pandemic had caused.
Ziva appeared in the doorway, her hair was down, and she was wearing a tan. She always looked so good with a tan. Summer looked good on her.
"Hi," Tony said, as he looked up at her.
She was holding a tray, which he could see contained two glasses of water and some fruit.
"Hello," she said, "I did not believe you when you said you were not hungry."
He looked up at her. At her bare shoulders, at the new top she was wearing, one with a low neckline that he rather appreciated.
"I can eat," he said, with a shrug.
A piece of fruit was hardly a meal.
She stepped further into the room, and looked at their bed that was covered in pink wrapped objects.
The glitter was probably all over their bedding too.
"You have been busy," Ziva said, as she handed the tray to him.
He scooted back, and placed the tray on the too small wrapping paper. One of the glasses was filled with ice, and droplets of condensation dripped onto the tray. Tony knew that glass was meant for him, and his what Ziva called 'ridiculous American need for ice'. On the plate were some apricots from their recent visit to the farmers market, that had been their weekend adventure. They had brought berries too, but those were long gone. Tali had eaten so many berries that her fingers were purple and her stomach ached.
Ziva sat down, and leaned her back on the wardrobe door. They were all aging knees and mess, it looked ridiculous.
"Yeah," he said. "The stuff Dad sent arrived, so I thought I better get started."
Tony took a long swig of his water. The water was so cold it made his teeth ache.
"I thought we were going to do this together," Ziva said, as she picked up her glass of water, one that had a more reasonable number of ice cubes in it. "Like we did at Christmas."
Tony looked at her, as he remembered a similar scene from almost six months beforehand. The two of them sitting on the floor, Ziva swimming in one of his thick jumpers, because she had only brought enough clothes for a few days. Hot chocolates steaming on the tray. It had all been so new then, but also achingly familiar like long nights spent in the squadroom going through files. Ziva had exclaimed every present that Tony had brought, and asked if Tali liked each thing.
Because as much as those early months were about Tali getting to know her mother, they were also about Ziva getting to know her daughter.
"I know," he said. "It just seemed silly to take the presents to the hiding place, then bring them out to wrap them, and take them back."
Ziva took a sip of her water.
"With that hiding place being the trunk of the car," Ziva declared.
Tony's mouth dropped open in surprise.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.
Ziva picked up one of the apricots and sunk her teeth into it.
"I know you hide things in the car," Ziva said, with a smirk on her face. "There is nowhere else it could be. We do not have anywhere big enough to hide the presents, you do not have the memory to hide presents in many different places, and there is no debit for a storage place on our bank account."
He felt a weird surge of pride when he heard her say our bank account.
Our bank account.
Our apartment.
Our daughter.
They had built a life together.
"All right little Miss Sherlock Holmes," he said, holding up his hands in defence. "You caught me."
She smiled, a full bodied smile that went all the way to her eyes, and made them crinkle.
"You know you're quite good at this deductive reasoning, maybe you should become a cop," he declared.
Ziva laughed. Her curls bounced.
"Maybe, but I quite like our life now," she said, "It is peaceful."
And it was.
Their life consisted of fresh flowers on the dining room table, piles of books on the nightstand, and three pairs of matching socks with cartoon Eiffel towers that Tony had found at a random souvenir shop during one of his post-lockdown walks.
They had pizza nights, film festivals where they watched both Frozen movies back-to-back, and lazy Sunday breakfasts, where Tali made her objections known about salad for breakfast, no matter how many times Ziva told her that is how breakfast is done in Israel.
"That it is," he said, as he picked up the apricot meant for him, and sunk his teeth into it. The juices dribbled down his face. "How was today?"
Ziva looked toward the window, and took a deep breath in, and then out.
As the lockdown eased Ziva had resumed her twice-a-week therapy schedule, with one session in the office and one done remotely. Ziva preferred the in-person sessions.
"It was hard," Ziva said, as she came back to look at him, "But, it was good. I feel like I made some progress."
"Good," he said, his mouth still full of juicy apricot flesh. "That's really good."
Ziva nodded.
"We have been talking about reducing the sessions down to once a week," Ziva said, as she held her water glass with both hands. "It worked during lockdown, and things have been progressing well. I have been in a good place. With Tali's school finishing soon, and those long weekends you want to do, it is a good time."
Tony wanted to get his family out of Paris for the summer. He had visions of Tali running around in lush green fields, and dipping her toes in the always cold Atlantic ocean. He wanted to see Ziva relax like she always seemed to in nature, and maybe catch a glimpse of her in a bathing suit. He wanted to take his family on a big ol' fashioned road trip, even though it was almost always cheaper to get the train, and explore more the country they now called home.
"Yeah," he said. "I think we're gonna have a really good summer."
Ziva took a sip of water, and then smiled back at him.
"You feeling okay?" he asked, "Dropping back to one session."
Ziva nodded.
"The two sessions a week were only supposed to be for a short while," she declared. "I know it may not seem like much on the outside, but I have done a lot of work. I feel better."
She was wrong there, Tony could see the change in her. He could see that she had become more comfortable, and more quick to laugh. She smiled more.
The haunted woman he had left behind in Israel was no more.
Sometimes, when they were all laughing, or FaceTiming the McFamily, he even got glimpses of the woman she was when they first met. She had seemed so free in those early days.
"I have made peace with the fact that I am not going to be the person I was before all these things happened," Ziva said. "And, that sometimes things are going to be harder. Like my physical health I have to work at my mental health, and be vigilant."
They were both vigilant.
Ziva needed to move her body, and some time to herself each day. She usually combined these needs by going on a long walk or a run by herself. At first Tali had gotten upset, when Ziva had not wanted to take Tali with her on her walks, or during lockdown when Ziva had shut herself in the master bedroom to have some quiet time. Now, Tali was used to her mothers need for quiet time.
"I'm proud of you," he said. "For working so hard with it all."
He expected her to brush it all off like she always did.
"Me too," she said, as she looked down at her lap. "I just wish that I had known to do this earlier. There are things I should have tended to years ago. I have wasted so much time."
They had wasted so much time. They had been such wusses.
"We both have," he said reaching for her hand. "But, we have right now and many more years together. Touch wood."
He tapped the wooden bed frame. Hoping the bed, brought from a Swedish flat-pack furniture, had enough wood in it to count.
She looked at him with a watery smile.
God, he loved her. So much that it physically hurt.
"I will clear this away," Ziva said, pointing to the tray, with its empty glasses and apricot stones. "Then we can finish wrapping the presents."
Ziva reached out for the bed post, and pulled herself up.
"We've only got one left," he said.
Tony picked up the tray ready to hand it to her.
"Actually," she said, as she reached out to grab the tray from him. "I brought some things."
He looked up at their bed, at the pile of presents. He had not counted the exact number of presents that had been brought or sent, but it felt like a lot. It felt like more than there had been at Christmas, and more than previous years. He knew Tali was counting.
Tali had already got the only thing she had ever wished for, on the weekend before Christmas when Ziva knocked on their door.
Ziva moved out of the room, and appeared a few seconds later holding a canvas shopping bag, the same one that had been used during their visit to the farmers market the previous weekend. A book was sticking out of the top, and Tony could see some sort of stuffed toy had been stuffed in the bag.
"I went past that bookstore," Ziva announced as she handed him the bag. "You know the one with the mural in the children's section."
Ziva had taken all three of them to the foreign language bookstore that was near her therapist office, on one of their weekend adventures. The plan had been for Ziva to finally 'spend' the I.O.U voucher that Tali had made her for Mother's Day. Each member of the family had walked out of the store with something. Ziva with a copy of The Little Prince, and a novel by the Turkish author she liked. Tony with a book about movies in the nineties, and a sports biography. Tali had walked away with half a dozen new picture books, and a soft toy.
"I know she has a lot of gifts," Ziva continued. "But, a few more cannot hurt."
Tony peaked in the bag, and found it contained two books, a box of expensive coloured pencils and a soft toy that looked like a dragon.
"You know I always thought it'd be me," he said, his voice soft.
Ziva looked at him, her head cocked in confusion.
"That I would be the permissive one," he added.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I always thought I'd be the type of Dad who brought too many gifts for his kid, and said yes every time they asked for treats. That's what I thought Dads did," Tony said. "Instead, I am the one that enforces bedtimes and negotiates her eating her vegetables."
"Do you think I am too permissive?" she asked.
He shook his head.
Ziva very rarely said no to Tali.
"No," he said. "You and her are still finding your rhythm. I get that."
"I make her eat her vegetables," she said, as she sat down in front of him. "And, we are a united front of bedtimes."
She was defending herself.
"That's because us DiNozzo's need our beauty sleep," he said. "None of what I'm saying is a criticism of you. I'm just realising I am not the fun parent I thought I was gonna be."
"You are a fun parent," Ziva said, reaching out for him."You do all sorts of fun things with her. You have your movie nights, and concerts. You play dress up. She loves you."
"I know," he said, as he ran his hands over the soft toy. "It's just I'm not the type of parent I thought I would be."
"It is hard to be a fun parent, when you are the only parent," Ziva said.
Tony felt a pang in his gut. A flare up of anger.
Nobody made Ziva do those first two years alone. He would have been there in a heartbeat, before the pee even dried on the pregnancy test.
"And, in those sitcoms we were watching, the mother was always stressed out, and the Dad was fun because he did nothing else," Ziva said. "You said, you did not want to live like that."
Tony nodded, remembering their conversation about chores.
"Do you think I'm too hard on her?" he asked. "I've been pretty militant about her cleaning up after herself."
Ziva let out a laugh.
"She has you wrapped around her finger," Ziva declared. "We have been out for ice cream twice a week since that shop opened again."
It was summer. It was ice cream weather.
"We're supporting a local business," he said. "Like the French government here wants us to do."
"If that is what you need to tell yourself to justify yourself, then you do that," Ziva declared, still smiling. "You are a good parent. You are tough when you need to be, yes, but Tali knows she can come to you when she needs something. That counts for a lot."
He knew Ziva was talking about herself and her own Father, as much as Tali.
"My Dad," Tony started, feeling his voice crack. "When we were in the same place, he was a pretty lenient parent. He never really gave me a bedtime, or made sure I ate something that wasn't French fries. I told you about that time he left me a hotel room in Maui."
His chest hurt as he thought of the hotel room. The room that contained everything he should have wanted, but the only person he did had gone back to the mainland.
Ziva reached out for him. Her hand took his, and she squeezed his fingers.
"You were only ten," she said, acknowledging him.
Ten was so impossibly young.
Only four years older than Tali was now.
Only two years after he had lost his mother.
"He's a really amazing grandparent. Tali loves him. We've built a lot of bridges over the years," Tony continued. "But, not having those rules when I was a kid they really affected me. It took me a long time to learn good habits, and nobody is ever as patient with you as your parents."
"You are a good father," Ziva said. "And, that is something Tali will realise when she is older."
He hoped so. He wanted her to always have good memories of him, and for her to know she could come to him no matter what trouble she was in.
"Anything's better than ours, right?" he asked.
"Yes," Ziva said. "My father was very strict with us. My mother tried to be softer with us, and to protect us. I think that is why I so seldom say no to Tali. Even though I know you are nothing like my father. I have always been like that with her. I told you the story about how I ended up with this necklace."
Tony smiled. He had asked about the necklace during one of their first nights together, and Ziva had told him how Tali had wanted it, so Ziva had brought it, only for Tali to give it to Ziva.
"Yeah," he said. "She insisted it was for you. How old was she then?"
"Eighteen months, give or take," Ziva said. "It was just after my birthday."
"I bet she was adorable," he said.
"She was," Ziva replied. "Her personality was really starting to come through, and she liked anything musical."
Tony smiled, as he tried to imagine his daughter being younger she was when he met her, but came up with nothing.
"You know for her first birthday, she was more interested in the wrapping than the gifts," she declared.
"The ships sailed on that," he said, "You saw her at Christmas."
Tali had woken both of her parents up before dawn on Christmas morning. She wanted to see if Santa had visited. Tali had already opened two presents by the time the coffee had been brewed.
Ziva looked away from him, and down at the floor.
"You know I only got one birthday with her," Ziva said, her voice cracking. "And, I know I cannot make up for the ones I have missed, but I think that was why I brought her more stuff. As if I could make up for what I missed."
"You went pretty crazy in the toy store," Tony said.
They had brought most of Tali's birthday presents, after dropping Tali off at school one day. It had been a treacherous journey across Paris, involving two metro trains. Once, they finally got to the store Ziva had gone around putting toys and craft supplies into Tony's waiting arms. She had only been stopped when Tony had reminded her that they had to get all that stuff home.
"I know," Ziva said. "It is just, when we give her things her whole face lights up, and it feels like she knows how much I love her. I know I cannot buy her love."
Tali's love language was definitely gifts.
"She knows how much you love her," Tony said. "Even when you aren't giving her something. She loves you."
He thought of those days before Ziva came home, when he started to talk to Tali about the fact that her Ima was coming home. He remembered all the questions.
Will she love me like you do ?
Oh baby, she already loves you more than anything.
He then thought of the frenzy Tali had gotten herself into, when she found out they were less than a week away from Mothers Day, and Tali had no way of getting Ziva a present.
But, how will she know how much I love her?
Oh, she knows. Trust me, Ima knows.
"Still, I have asked a lot of her," Ziva said. "There is a lot I need to make up for, and a lot she has to forgive me for. I have completely upended her life."
Yes, there had been some tough moments, and the brief period of bed wetting, but Tali was happier now. More secure. She had been missing Ziva even if she did not have the words to say it.
"No," he said, trying desperately to keep his voice neutral. "When are you going to realise there is nothing to forgive or make up for. You are not a burden on us. We love you, and we missed you every day that we were apart, but that doesn't matter now, because you're back. We're all together now."
Ziva took in a deep breath.
"I know you've always measured your worth in what you're doing for someone, or giving someone," he continued, feeling himself getting worked up. His cheeks burned red. "I remember what you were like when you came back from Africa, when you were trying to prove that we didn't come and rescue you for nothing. And, that Vance wasn't pulling strings at the State Department for nothing. But, we would have all done it a thousand times, even if we'd gotten you out and you never set foot in NCIS again. We did it because we loved was the same for these last few years. We waited for you because we love you. I made peace with what happened after I left Israel because I love you, and I couldn't live with that anger. Tali loves you. I love you."
Silent tears ran down her face.
"I am sorry," she said, as she wiped her face with her hand. "I know you have said these things to me before. I have been working through these things in therapy for the last six months. I am still working through these things. I am still trying to remind myself that I am worthy of love without conditions."
He scooted closer to her.
His heart ached for her, and how little she thought of herself.
Would she ever understand just how much better she made his life?
"I'm gonna keep saying these things," he said, as he wrapped his arms around her. "Until my last breath, and I'm gonna make sure that Tali knows these things. I don't care about what choices she makes in her life, as long as she knows she deserves to be loved, and deserves to be happy."
"You are a good father," Ziva said. Her head on his chest.
His back spasmed, he'd be paying for this for days.
He was getting old.
"I'm just not making my Dad's mistakes," he said. "Or yours."
Ziva wiped her face with her hand.
"I love you," she whispered, looking up at him.
"I love you, too," he said.
"What are we going to do about all the gifts?" Ziva asked. "Could we save them until Christmas."
"Probably not," he said, with a frown. "She'll be into completely different things by then, and you've seen how much her reading has improved in the last few months."
Ziva nodded. That reading improvement had been because of her. Tali always wanted just one more bedtime story, and Ziva was more than willing to oblige.
"So, we are just going to give her all the gifts," Ziva said. "And, risk her becoming spoilt."
Could you really spoil a child, who had spent nearly four years without her mother?
"Yeah," Tony said, "I mean she'll love all this stuff, and it's been a tough year with lockdown and everything else."
"We are going to create a monster," Ziva declared.
"Ship's sailed on that one," he said. "But, she's our monster and we love her."
A/N:
I don't own a thing.
So in my personal headcanon Tony read a lot of 'how to parent' type books when he first met Tali, and they started to settle down, but as he time wore on he read more broadly. I can see him reading a lot of self-help and psychology books about child development and how not to mess up your kids. The books of the later kind helped him make sense of his childhood, and understand some of Ziva's behaviour. I like my characters self aware. This might be something explored a bit later on in the fic.
Timeline wise we've eclipsed 'real time' by a couple of weeks (give or take), and we will get further away from real time as we move forward with the fic. Which means they'll be less 'news' in the background.
Thanks so much for all the kind words, reviews, and tweets. I'm a bit behind in review replies, so please forgive me.