A/N: Thanks for all your reviews on this story! I already have 19 alerts!!!
I promised to update, I'm keeping that promise!
Two years on and still Ziva hadn't returned. Now, I had photos of me and Ziva, of Ziva, and of Ziva and Sali alongside the photos already there of me and Sali, Sali, and everyone else at NCIS.
It was the week before Rosalia's eighth birthday, and she was receiving lots of post.
When I opened my post one morning, I found a letter inside one envelope, with a smaller envelope with 'For Rosalia' written on it. I recognized the handwriting, and opened out the letter.
Dear Tony,
I know it must seem as if I have dropped off the face of the earth. I haven't written, I haven't called. I'm sorry. I did write, and I did call. I only found out last week that my father has been keeping my mail I sent to you, and not giving me the letters you sent to me. I didn't know that he was blocking you from sending me emails or receiving my emails. I didn't know that he had blocked your telephone number so when I called you it said your phone was off. I'm supposedly on an undercover mission in Baghdad. Tomorrow I am catching the flight to New York, and from there I am flying to Washington DC.
I hope you don't hate me for what I did. Leaving, I mean. I hope that my daughter will recognize me, and I hope that she will not hate me for leaving her behind. It is her birthday in eleven days, I know that. I have sent cards for her every year. At Christmas, too. I sent cards to Abby, McGee and Gibbs too. And you, of course. I guess none of them have been received, have they?
I wanted to tell you that I was coming. I didn't want to turn up unannounced on your door step, especially after seven years of being away. I just didn't think that would be quite right to do. When I return to America, I am going to apply for an American citizenship. I am still married to you, or at least I think I am. If so, then I will be able to apply for a job at NCIS for good. So my father cannot summon me back to Israel at he pleases. So I can stay with my husband and my daughter forever.
I want to remind you that I love you, and I always have done, even though I have been a world apart from you for seven years. I love you, and I always will.
Forever yours,
Ziva.
"Daddy, why are you crying?" I looked up suddenly to find Rosalia in front of me, looking worried.
"I'm fine, Salia, honest." I smiled up at her, pushing the letter back into its envelope. She would already be in DC, since the letter was dated the 4th of June. It had taken a week to get to me.
"You said you'd take me shopping today!" Rosalia grinned at me, and I groaned theatrically.
"Again?" I mock complained. "Didn't we go last weekend?"
"Daddy." She pouted, and I ruffled her hair, which was looking more and more like her mother's every day. She'd started karate classes the year before, and already most people in her class were scared of her. She'd already progressed up to the stage of green belt, and most people took about three years to reach that belt. I'd tried taking her to ballet classes and that had worked, for a while, until she had decided she wanted to do tennis lessons instead, and unfortunately they were on the same day.
She'd been a graceful girl, and the ballet had helped her in karate no end, even though the romantique dance style was a world away from the martial art. I had to say, she seemed to be pretty good at whatever she did.
Just like Ziva.
She had also already attracted the attention of some of the boys in her class. I dreaded the time when she reached her teenage years.
"Come on then." I said, picking her up in a fireman's lift and walking her out the door.
"Daddy!" She shrieked, laughing as I sat her in the front seat of my car. "Shoes, daddy."
"Honestly, do I have to do everything?" I joked, and went back inside to grab her a pair of shoes.
Soon, we arrived at the mall, and she took my hand as we walked around.
"In here, daddy." She dragged me into a clothes shop and over to the racks of girls clothing. I got a few sympathetic looks from other fathers being dragged around by young girls and their mothers, only there for the use of their credit card.
Rosalia held up a top for me to see.
"What do you think daddy?" She asked, and I looked at it. It was a white top with decoration around the neckline, and reminded of something Ziva had once worn.
"To go with…" I looked along the rack at the pants, and found a pair of black combat pants. I crouched down and held them against her. "These?"
"Good daddy." My daughter patted me on the head, grinning. After another twenty minutes in the shop, we bought the clothing she chose and a few items for me from the men's part of the shop.
When we were walking back to the car, she asked me a question.
"Daddy, who wrote the letter that made you cry?" She asked and I stopped dead. It was a bad idea, we were crossing the road. I only moved when she tugged at my hand because people in cars were getting irritated with us standing on the zebra crossing.
"I was happy, Sali." I explained.
"Don't people cry when they're sad?" She questioned. I shook my head.
"Not always. Sometimes you cry when you're really happy too." I smiled. "You'll find out who wrote the letter in four days."
Rosalia grinned.
"My birthday!"
A/N: Well, I hoped you enjoyed that! Please review!