Ziva smiled as she looked up from the kitchen, and across the living area to Tony who was sitting on the couch with black earbuds hanging out of his ears. Occasionally he reached for his phone, and tapped at something, but mostly he listened, while looking out in front of him.
It was hot in their little apartment, and they both were wearing as little as they could get away with, without leaving their daughter with psychological scarring. Ziva had raided Tony's side of their tiny wardrobe and found an old OSU t-shirt, that was huge on her.
The desk fans whirred from their positions in the room. Tony had attempted to create a cross breeze but it would never be as good as air conditioning.
Ziva picked up the bowl from the kitchen bench, and walked across the living area.
Tony looked up at her, and took his earbuds out of his ears.
"Any of that for me?" he asked, as he looked into the bowl. She had picked up two spoons predicting this very question.
Ziva showed him the contents of the bowl, Greek yogurt and stone fruit, and the two spoons she had brought with her. He screwed up his face.
"I thought you had something good," he said. "That's diet food."
Ziva placed the bowl on the coffee table, picked up the book she had left there, and sat down on the couch.
"I like it," Ziva said.
The fruit was from a farmers market that had popped up near them. A place Ziva took Tali too. Tali enjoyed seeing all the colourful fruit, and had slowly come around to trying most of it at least once. She loved any form of berry, but had learnt where the limit was when it came to eating the sweet berries.
Ziva had worried about the crowds in the market, but because of social distancing, the crowds were manageable. Tali seemed to sense her mother's unease, and stayed close.
She adjusted herself on the couch, so she was reclining. Tony gently tugged at her feet, and laid them on his lap. His hands ran over her feet. He liked to keep his hands busy when he was listening.
"You've always been the healthy one," he murmured.
Physically, maybe. Mentally, definitely not.
Mental health wise, she was getting there. She had her daily time-out, where she went for a walk by herself to sort through her thoughts. She made sure she went to bed at the same time, and that her cell phone was left in the other room. She was getting better at verbalising her feelings, often before Tony asked if something was up.
"It is our rule, yes?" she asked. "If we want unhealthy food, we make it or eat while out."
They had sampled many of the city of lights, fine pastries, and sweet treats, and it showed up on both of their waistlines. Not that Ziva minded, the few extra pounds suited her, and she no longer needed to worry about running away from danger.
They had their weekly (lately twice weekly) ice cream treat, where Tali always managed to get a stain on her t-shirt. Tony usually came pretty close.
During lockdown they had gotten into the habit of baking once or twice a week. Tali did not have the patience for cakes that took forever to cook, but had enjoyed 'helping' with cookies. The image of Tali's hands covered in flour, and Ziva helping her place the cookies on a tray would be one of Ziva's happy places for a long time.
"Yeah," he said, with a smile. "You and Tali make the best cookies."
Ziva picked up the bowl and a spoon. She started to eat the yogurt. The fruit was slightly tart, a flavour profile that Tali did not quite understand.
Tony put one of his earbuds in his ear, and picked up his phone, to press play on whatever he was listening to.
Since, the lockdown had eased, both of them had independently started to be more healthy. Tony was taking longer walks to pick Tali up from school. Ziva was buying more fruit and vegetables. They had also, rather organically, started to limit their television time.
At least twice a week, once they had put Tali to bed, they settled onto the couch, Ziva with her book and Tony with his headphones. They were together, and quiet.
It was all rather peaceful.
Ziva's new life was one of peace. Of herbs growing on the kitchen windowsill. Of sleeping in. Of sunflowers on the dining room table.
Of the bicycle she had brought.
Ziva had stumbled on the city of Paris bike share schemes before lockdown, when she was leaving her therapist's office. She had watched as a woman whizzed past, hair coming out of her helmet. She looked so free. Ziva had wanted that freedom.
One day, just before the lockdown, when the news was filled with scaremongering, and the shops had sold out hand sanitiser, Ziva had walked out of her session, and felt the sun on her face.
It was too nice to take the metro train home, and the metro train could be a potential source of infection.
So she downloaded an app, rented a bike, and cycled home. The wind had blown through her hair, and she had felt the sun on her face.
It felt good. She felt free.
The drivers of Paris were not always bike friendly, so she had to be careful, but by the time she dropped the bike off in its designated return place she had discovered a new hobby.
In the first few weekends after lockdown, when Tony and Ziva wanted to get Tali out, but wanted to be cautious, they took Tali to the park with the bike she had gotten for her fifth birthday. Tony had tried to teach Tali to ride the summer before, but she lacked the confidence, so by the time Ziva came back to them the bike had almost been forgotten. As she approached her sixth birthday, she was ready and it only took a few attempts to get her going.
Outside of the park, Ziva had found some rental bikes, and had started 'racing' Tali. Tali always won, and both of them became more confident on two wheels.
After their second Sunday afternoon spent in the park, Ziva had brought a bicycle of her own, a refurbished bike from a speciality store. She had been lucky to get one, as the end of the lockdown had turned many of the residents of Paris into enthusiastic cyclists.
She and Tali had matching neon blue helmets, at Tali's insistence.
Tony was less excited by the new hobby.
I know we're in Europe, he had said as Ziva checked the tire pressure in the tiny courtyard at the back of the building, But I'm not getting on one of those. DiNozzo men over twelve do not ride bikes.
She had not pushed him, but he had borrowed her bike more than once to show Tali how to do a trick, or keep it moving while Ziva went to the local cafe to get some sustenance for their day in the park.
He had ordered a bike rack for the back of their car. One that was big enough for three bikes.
Ziva finished her yogurt, and placed the empty bowl on the coffee table. She picked up her book, and opened it where she had left off.
She was losing herself in the lyrical words before her. This mastery of language was why she had struggled to learn English in that apartment in the sky, while her parents fought in the next room.
"Can I ask you something?" Tony asked, as he pulled out one of his ear buds.
Ziva rested the book on her chest and looked up at him.
"Always," came her reply.
She was an open book now. Especially to him.
"What were you and Tali whispering about today?" he asked.
Ziva thought they had been hiding that better. Conducting their conversations when Tony was out of the apartment or when he was on the other side of their little apartment.
"Are you really going to pretend you do not know?" she asked.
"I am not pretending," he said. "It's just really good to see the two of you sharing secrets. I just hope they are not about me."
He had never done well with being left out.
She could still remember the hurt on his face, when he learnt he had been left out of a last minute dinner party Ziva held during her first years in the U.S.
He had tried to hide it, but he was hurt.
"I can confirm we were talking about you," Ziva declared.
"About how I'm the best Daddy and partner in the world," he said, with a grin.
"Something like that," she said. "And about Sunday."
"Sunday?" he echoed.
"You know what Sunday is," Ziva said. "Do not pretend."
"I do know what Sunday is," he declared. "It is day three of our daughter's sixth birthday extravaganza."
Ziva laughed.
Tali was set to have the best birthday ever. She would have more gifts than she knew what to do with, a cake from her favourite bakery, and both of her parents to make a fuss of her.
"Yes," Ziva declared. "It is also Father's Day."
Tony frowned.
"We sent something to Dad, right?" he asked.
"You were there when we ordered his gift," Ziva said. "You saw Tali's card for him."
They had ordered a fancy hamper of wine and cheese, and Tali had wanted to show off all of her new art skills in a card.
"Okay," he said. "Then we don't need to make a big deal of it then."
So far Ziva and Tali's plan included breakfast in bed with all the trimmings. Ziva had ordered a t-shirt that said World's Best Dad, and Tali had made a card.
Ziva knew he would wear the t-shirt with pride, even if it was not exactly Parisian chic.
"Have you met our daughter?" Ziva asked. "For her everything is a big deal."
Tony laughed.
"You know what I mean," he said. "It's her birthday weekend, we'll celebrate her."
"She declared that it is only fair that we celebrate Father's Day," Ziva said. "Especially since we celebrated Mothers Day twice this year."
The first Mother's Day celebration, which had occurred when the day was being celebrated in the US had been the main celebration. There had been a special breakfast, and the flowers Tali made from paper.
The second had been more subdued. Tali had given Ziva another card, and Tony had brought some flowers. The three of them had gone to the park, eaten take away pastries and Tali had practiced on her bike.
They had agreed that they would pick one Mothers Day to celebrate in the future.
Because they had a future now.
One that would not be taken away.
"You deserved both of those celebrations," he said.
She was making up for lost time. They all were.
"And you deserve to be celebrated as a Father," Ziva declared. "I did not think you would be so opposed to this. I thought you liked being the center of attention."
Hurt flashed across Tony's face.
His class clown behaviour was a coping strategy. He had been left behind so many times.
When he made a fool of himself, people saw him.
When everyone saw him, there was no way he could be forgotten.
"It's just," Tony started. "Fathers Day hasn't really been a big deal here before. I think Tali brought a card home last year, and we talked to Dad, but that's it."
"Well now it is a big deal," Ziva said. "Tali has planned something nice for you, and I am helping her. She wants you to know that you are the best Daddy ever."
"I'm not the best Daddy ever," he said.
"You took on a lot more than the average Dad," Ziva said. "I know you are being modest about it, but you are an amazing father."
He rubbed his chest.
"I did my best," he said.
"I asked a lot of you," she said.
She had worried about that. It was so much to spring on him, without her being there to explain.
"Did you think I would reject her?" he asked, his voice cracking.
Ziva shook her head.
"Me, maybe," she admitted. "But her, never."
"Good," he said. "Because I want you to know it never even occurred to me. As soon as I knew she was yours, I knew I would spend the rest of my life keeping her safe. She did not even have to be mine as well."
Bile rose in her throat.
Did he really think that Tali might not be his?
"She is definitely yours," Ziva said. "And, I would have never disrupted your life for a child that was not yours."
"I know she's mine. The minute I saw her, I knew," he said. "That's all moot now."
"Yes," Ziva said. "You know other men, lesser men in your situation would not have handled this so well."
Her father and his, were those lesser men. Both were thrust into single parenting in far less complicated circumstances than Tony and Ziva's.
"Well, I've always been the wild card," he said. "And, I was all she had. I had to give her my all."
Ziva felt her a tear slip down her face.
"You know these last few years," he said. "They have not been what I imagined parenting to be."
"I think it is one of those things that you cannot really imagine until it happens," Ziva declared.
Much like falling in love.
It was everything she imagined and more.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Before I met Tali, I always used to wonder if I had a kid out there. I mean I've had a lot of brief encounters and haven't always been the easiest to get in touch with. I was always pretty safe, but you know."
Ziva scrunched up her face.
They had forgone condoms when they fell into bed in the farmhouse. Ziva had been so sure that she would never be able to conceive.
Little did they know.
"What are you trying to say?" she asked.
"I always kinda figured if one of my swimmers had been the wild card, and some kid turned up that I'd step up," he declared.
She expected nothing less.
"I'd help financially and do that every-second-weekend kinda parenting," he said. "You know, I'd be the fun one. The one who let the kid stay up late and eat junk. Instead I got a crash course in parenting, while flying solo. You can't be the fun one without consequences."
"Do you wish it had been more like you imagined?" Ziva asked. "That you could have been the fun one."
"No," he said. "As much as this has been hard, and as scared as I am from potty training, the only thing I would change about these last few years, is you not being here."
Ziva looked at him.
"If I had a kid with someone else, or if we had been together from the start, it would have been easier for me to do this at arm's length, especially if I was still working at NCIS," he said. Ziva remembered those long hours. Good hours. Hours where she felt she was helping,"Because it was only me, I had to be everything. I had to give it my all. That was so good, because I know Tali so well. I would never have been able to do that, if I had become a parent any other way."
"You have thought about this a lot," Ziva said.
He'd done a lot of thinking over the last few years.
"Yeah," he said. "It took me a while to work through it all. I was angry for a long time."
"That is understandable," Ziva said, as she reached for his hand. "I know I say this often, but a part of me always worried you would never forgive me. That you would want to punish me. I do not know what I would have done if you had decided to keep Tali from me."
"Like I was going to do anything else," he said, his voice cracking. "I was never going to keep Tali from you. I could never."
"Maybe not," she said. "But, you did not have let me into your home. If you had wanted some sort of shared custody agreement, I would have submitted to whatever you wanted."
"That was never on the table," he said. "The universe cannot keep us apart."
Ziva nodded at him. They were forever bonded, long before they shared a daughter.
"You are not just a good father," she declared. "You are a good man too. A good partner."
He spluttered, and coughed.
"If you say much more, I'm going to have to replace all my hats, because my head is too big," he said.
"I mean it," she said. "You are much more than I ever thought I deserved."
"You deserve more than you think," he replied. "And, I don't want you to think I've been the perfect Dad. We all know I've been a pretty crap partner at times."
They had wasted so much time.
"Nobody is perfect," Ziva said. "And, I am far from the perfect mother."
She had been absent for almost four years.
She had kept her daughter from her father for almost two years. .
"The first year," he started. "It was really hard. There were lots of tantrums and meltdowns."
"Tali is a strong willed child," Ziva said.
"I meant me," he said, as he looked down at his lap. "Most of the tantrums and meltdowns were mine."
"You do not really talk about what it was like for you," Ziva replied.
"No," he said. "I don't want to keep talking about the past, we're focusing on the present and building a future."
"Please tell me what it was like," Ziva asked.
"It wasn't pretty," he said.
"I am sure it was better than you remember it," she said, as she reached for his hand.
"Well," he said. "At first it was like that scene in Three Men and A Baby, I didn't know how to change a diaper or what to feed her. Jimmy helped with all of that. He helped a lot."
"He is a good man," Ziva whispered.
He had been so excited when he drove Ziva to the airport. Full of stories about Tali. Full of reassurances. Full of love.
"I managed most of the care stuff and tried my best with a routine even though we were moving around a lot," he said. "But, it was the bigger stuff that was harder. She cried out for you the minute she woke up, and some of her tantrums were not just the normal terrible twos stuff. I was frustrated a lot, but I tried really hard to keep a lid on it with her. She probably still picked up on it, kids sense that stuff."
Ziva took in a deep breath.
A part of Ziva would always worry how much of her mental state, Tali picked up on, during her early years.
"I knew I was disrupting your life-" she started.
"No," he interrupted. "I mean yes, it was really hard, but it was all worth it. The first time she told me she loved me, I was a puddle of goo. We worked hard for that."
Ziva remembered her daughter in the days before she sent her away. Her chubby hands. Her light curls. Her baby soft skin.
Ima loves you. Ima loves you so much. Ima will love you forever.
"Once we were settled I started checking in with Jimmy more often," Tony said. "He's the one who started sending all those parenting books. He helped with the big stuff."
Under their bed, was a box of parenting books, mostly aimed at parents of toddlers, with bright covers and authors with letters after their names, they had hyperbolic titles like; 'The Single Dads Survival Guide' 'The Terrific Twos' and 'Parenting Without Screens'.
"The big stuff," Ziva echoed.
"Yeah," he said. "I managed to feed her and keep her clean, but I knew parenting was more than that. I know I couldn't be the perfect parent, but I wanted her to have a better childhood than I did. To have a better parent."
Ziva felt her heart heave.
"I read a lot about parenting styles, you wanted to raise her in Montessori right?" he asked.
Ziva had found a well thumbed through of a book on Montessori in his stash. She had flicked through the book and studied the passages Tony had underlined.
He had worked so hard at this.
Parenting was the most important job he'd ever had.
"I never really thought about it," Ziva said. "In those early days my only thought was getting through the days."
Those long nights. Those racing thoughts.
I do not deserve this.
I cannot let her be taken away.
"Well, I tried with the Monetessori," he said. "I think she liked it. We had one of those play kitchens, she loved that. I wasn't so good at limiting screen time. There was only one of me."
"You are a wonderful parent," Ziva said. "She is so happy. I worried that my absence would make her an unhappy child."
She was the center of so much pain.
"I was all she had," he said softly, as he handed her his phone. "I worked hard at keeping her happy."
He opened the phone with a passcode that Ziva knew anyway, and pulled up an orange audiobook app.
"I think I've done more research and reading in the last few years than I did in college," he said.
Ziva remembered the frantic google searches in the middle of the night.
Signs of colic.
Can babies sense their mother's mental health?
How do I know my baby loves me?
"I know audiobooks aren't really reading," he said. "But, I take in the information better. When she went to bed, or I was out and about I would put these on. This is why my French is so bad, I couldn't listen to these and practice my French."
He handed Ziva the phone. She flicked through his library, recognising some of the titles from the bookstore she liked near her therapists office. Most of the books were on parenting, there were a handful of fiction titles that had been turned into movies, and some other psychology titles.
"There are a lot of books about attachment," she commented.
She and her therapist had been talking about attachment theory in recent weeks. Ziva wondered if Tali would always go to Tony first, when something bad or scary happened.
"Yeah, blame SuperDad Jimmy for that," Tony said. "He and Breena were really into attachment parenting. They were always carrying Tori around in one of those sling things during her first year."
"I had one of those with Tali," Ziva said, as the memory of Tali sleeping on her chest came back to her. How had their almost six year old ever been so small. "I liked being handsfree, and sometimes she just liked to be held."
There had been so many late nights, where Tali's cries echoed through the farmhouse, but there seemed to be nothing wrong. Ziva had eventually just held Tali to her chest, and let her daughter work it all out.
"I figured I had a lot of ground to make up, on the attachment front," he said. "I couldn't carry her in a sling, so I kinda overcompensated. A lot of the books went pretty deep, and helped me make sense of a lot of things that were happening when I was a kid."
Ziva studied the titles. Her eyes rested on an audiobook titled 'The Parenting Book You Wish Your Parents Had Read'.
"I have not read many parenting books," she said.
Perhaps she should read more. She had to make up for lost time.
Things were calm now, but Ziva wondered what Tali would be like in a few years, when Ziva's absence from her life was not so easily explained. When she found out why her father had not been with her from the start.
Ziva could imagine Tali as an angry teenager.
"I buy more than I read," he said, with a shrug. "And, some of them go off the deep end."
She scrolled down the books, noting the fiction titles.
'About A Boy', 'The Green Mile' and 'The Best of Edgar Allan Poe'.
"There are some non parenting books on here," she said. "You like self-help books with swear words in the title."
He nodded, as Ziva scanned the titles with astrixed out swear words.
"Yeah, I had this account before I met Tali," he said. "After I left you in Israel, I did a lot of work on myself."
I can change with you.
Let me change with you.
If only she had gotten on that plane with him.
If only they had not wasted so much time.
"Abby mentioned you went to a men's group," she said.
She and Abby were talking more, managing a weekly phone conversation. It was easier on the phone. Ziva often took these calls at the park a few blocks away from the apartment.
Abby carried some hurt from Ziva's sudden extraction from their lives, and the mess she left Tony in. But, they were building bridges. It was easier to talk over the phone, where they could not see each other. Where they could rebuild their friendship slowly.
Abby had also changed in their years apart. Her career. Her home. Her whole life.
She was calmer these days. Softer.
They were all older. More mature.
"Yeah, I did for a while," he said. "It wasn't what you think. It wasn't just a bunch of divorced men blaming their ex-wives for everything."
"Did it help?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said. "After I came back from Israel, I knew I had to make some changes so I did. If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you always got."
Ziva flicked through the titles. There were a couple of memoirs by American men living in Paris.
Then she saw another title 'When Someone You Love Has Post Traumatic Stress'.
Her face flushed red.
"What about this one?" Ziva asked, showing him the book. "How long has this been on here?"
"A few months," he admitted. "I know you don't like that label, but I just wanted to be sure I was doing the right thing. Or at least not making it harder for you."
Ziva's and her therapist had spent a lot of time talking about a diagnosis. Ziva was resistant to labels and to pathologizing of her experiences. Her life had happened to her, it was not a diagnosis. When they talked about it, old memories came back to her. When Vance called her damaged goods mere weeks after they pulled her out of Saleem's dusty cell. Her Father's lectures about weakness.
America has made you weak.
Slowly, she had started to understand her therapist's point-of-view that a diagnosis gave Ziva a shorthand. It was an explanation to people who had not been there.
The short hand was Complex-PTSD.
The lived experience was anxiety, sleepless nights, and always being on alert in crowds.
In recent months, she and her therapist had started talking about the otherside of the coin. Talking about posttraumatic growth, and how even after everything Ziva had been through there was a lot of good.
Ziva could still do good in the world. So much good.
"I haven't finished it," he said as he took the phone from her. "You've probably seen I'm good at starting books, but bad at finishing them."
"I wish it did not have to be there," Ziva admitted.
"It is what it is," he said. "I bought that book because I love you, and I wanted to make sure I was doing the best I could."
Ziva's mouth dried.
He cared. He cared about her. He cared for her. Ziva could not remember anyone else who had cared about her so deeply.
"You are the best partner," she said, her eyes watering.
"It took me a long time to get here," he said. "When you asked me to leave in Israel, it hurt for a long time. I was angry for a long time. When I got your message that it was safe and you were coming home, I was really worried that it was all gonna come back up. That I'd screw it up again."
"You never told me," she whispered.
He had been so careful with her in those early days.
"It didn't come up," he said. "I mean there were some tense moments, especially before we had that conversation in the car, but I didn't feel like I thought I would. I just wanted to make it all better. For you, for me, and for Tali."
"You do make my life so much better," Ziva admitted. She thought of that trying summer after Jenny died, where nothing in Israel seemed to fit right. "You have for a long time. That summer after Vance split us up, when I went back to Israel, I had not realised how much you were a part of my life. How much you mattered to me."
Years later after she sent him away, for his own protection, she missed him even more. But, she did not call him. Even though he was just a phone call away. Even though he had said, he would do anything for her.
Because she did not think she deserved him.
She would do nothing but cause him pain.
"I think I missed you more," he said. "That ship was pretty damn lonely."
Ziva looked over the back of the couch, and towards Tali's room.
"I worry about Tali," she admitted. "And, how this all effects her."
"Isn't that parenting," he joked. "A whole lot of love, and a mega dose worry."
"I do not just mean generally," Ziva said. "In therapy we have been talking about how childhood affects adulthood, and how even if you seemed well adjusted as a child, these things can come back to you when you enter a romantic relationship."
"Yeah," he said. "I've read a little about that."
"Tali has taken the last six months so well," Ziva said. "I worry that it will all come back to us, when she is a teenager or when she is an adult. I have already caused her so much pain. I do not want to make her life any harder."
The source of all this pain is me.
"Maybe," he said. "And, if it does, we'll deal with it. She'll know she can come to us with whatever, and if we need to get her some extra help we will."
He was so calm about this.
She wondered if he had thought about this too.
"Teenage girls do not just go to their parents," Ziva said, remembering her own turbulent teen years. "They act out or they direct it all inwards."
Ziva had pulled all that hurt inwards, and turned into drive. She had to be the best. That drive had lingered long after her age stopped ending with a teen. That drive had become a fire that burnt her from the inside out.
"We'll deal with it," he said. "She'll know she can come to us, whatever trouble she gets herself into or with whatever she's feeling. Besides, she will grow up seeing us. We've been through some hard things and we've come out on the other side."
He made it all sound so easy, even though it would not be.
"I read a lot of things in those books," he continued, "But, almost all of them said that even if you didn't start well, you can change things, and the kid will be okay, eventually. It'll be hard, but it'll be worth it. The books were mostly talking about things like introducing new foods to picky eaters, or limiting screens after letting your kid sleep with the iPad, but I think it applies to the big stuff too."
Ziva ran her hand over her face, using her palm to trying to stop the tears that were threatening to fall.
"What Tali and I planned for you, it does not feel like enough," Ziva said, after a few quiet seconds. "I do not know how I will ever show you how much I appreciate you."
Tony smiled.
"As long as it's not a bike, I'm happy," he joked.
Ziva laughed. The laugh rolled though her, and made her chest ache. A tear fell.
"I know you appreciate me," he said. "Just like I hope you know that I appreciate you."
"I know," she said. "And, I can assure you I have not brought you a bike, though I know how much you like borrowing mine."
Tony laughed this time.
He handed his phone back to her, and pulled up a webpage. Ziva could see a fancy mountain bike with lots of technical specs that Ziva did not have on her bike.
"I ordered this for my birthday," he declared. "I did like borrowing yours. I probably won't use it on the road like you do, but I thought we could be that annoying family who hogs the path in the park."
Ziva smiled. She could not wait to be that family.
A/N:
I don't own a thing.
Is this the chapter, where the author has jumped off the deep end, maybe?
Tony is hard to write in this chapter, mostly because I haven't watched the seasons he was in without Ziva, so I have only read about his growth during that time through tumblr posts. I honestly want to believe that Tony continued to grow when he and Ziva were apart. Firstly, so he could forgive Ziva and secondly so he could be the best parent he could be. Books are an accessible way to facilitate that growth. Perhaps, I have gone too far, please let me know.
Forgive me for any mistakes regarding bike shares and/or cycling in Paris. I did a bit of googling, but had to guess a lot of stuff. I've visited Paris, but did not interact with its bike sharing scheme.
Also, as a huge audiobook user, I can assure you audiobooks are real reading. However, I think a small part of Tony does get a little bit insecure about his lack of booksmarts sometimes especially when he was working with Tim and Ellie. Some of the books/audio books mentioned by title are real, some are made up. I have a lot discourse about Tony and reading, as well as books in general, but I will not make the authors note any longer.
Next chapter will be set in the future (July), and will have Tony and Ziva talking about the future.
Finally, thank you all so much for your reviews, tweets, and kind words.