Part 1 of 2. This one's about the three boys relationship, and the last's about Ziva and Eli. Let's wrap this up! Enjoy the little hints at headcanons I threw in there(:
~~AgentAva
Sunshine filled into the kitchen in rays as Eli shuffled in, empty mug in hand. Trying not to wake up anyone, he began filing through the various wood cabinets, searching for the coffee beans.
"Top shelf of the second cabinet to the right," a high voice instructed. Eli, who had been bending down to rifle through the bottom cabinets, looked under his arm to see Teemo, his hair straight up and frizzy, leaning against the doorway. The young boy frowned at his grandfather, and crossed his arms across his chest. In return, the old man turned away so that the young one could not see the smile that spread across his face. Eli pushed the glasses further up his nose and began to reach for the coffee beans.
Even without looking over, the grandfather could tell that Teemo had moved from the entrance to sit down at one of the stools stationed at the island counter. After much groping around in the dark, Eli finally latched his hand onto his victim and pulled out the bag with triumph. "Ah," he said contently, and walked over to the coffee pot. With his back turned, he asked, "So, uh…are your parents up yet?"
"No," came Teemo's almost too-careless answer. "It is 7:34 Eastern time right now, and dad won't be getting out of bed until at least 8 o'clock. My mom doesn't get back from her run until exactly 7:46, so…" Eli could hear the 12-year-old quickly calculate in his mind. "We have exactly 11 minutes and 24 seconds until your daughter walks through that door."
As he was listening, Eli had been preparing the coffee machine, and snapped the door shut. For a moment the man roamed his callused fingers around aimlessly, unable to pinpoint the power button's location.
Without warning, Teemo pushed the old man aside with a flick of his arm, and pressed down on the red button on the side. It blinked green in return, and the machine began to emit a low gurgle. The young boy swiveled to face his grandfather, an annoyed look on his face; Eli couldn't help but see Ziva scowling back at him. His grandson lifted a finger. "Sit." He commanded.
The old man shrugged to himself. Teemo was just a little boy. What could he possibly do that Eli couldn't handle? He shuffled over to Teemo's vacated seat and relaxed into the chair, removing his glasses as he did so. "So what do you want to know, Teemo?" Eli asked casually, cleaning his glasses with the edge of his shirt.
Teemo leaned forward against the island, making it so that the two were face-to-face. For a moment, the younger searched Eli's stolid face before squinting at him, just like his mother would when seeing something she did not like. "Who are you?"
"What?" Eli laughed, shaking off the question with a flick of his hand. "I'm your grandfather, of course!"
It took Teemo a few moments to calculate his next move. "No," he said slowly. "I heard you. You said you wanted my mother to be the next 'Director.' Who are you?" He demanded once more, his voice raising. The boy, realizing what he had done, glanced around to make sure he hadn't awoken his father, and returned to the one in front of him.
"You misunderstand," Eli started with a bittersweet smile. But even so, he couldn't help but feel a little let down. His own daughter had not told Teemo about his grandfather at all.
"Misunderstand my ass!" Teemo snarled much like Ziva would have done. He slammed a fist on the counter. "Both of my parents are highly-ranked NCIS agents who do this for a living everyday. I am their son, which means that I know how to tell what the truth is and what is not. I skipped three grades; know how to shoot a rifle with one hand, as well as a handgun; I am last year's state champion for mixed martial arts! I know how to tell if someone is a liar by the way their jugular moves, and Aunt Abby taught me how to kill a man four different ways without leaving a trace when I was 10. Do not tell me that I do not understand. As far as I am concerned, I understand perfectly."
Eli let this sink in a little bit before nonchalantly asking, "Only four?"
The young one stopped fuming long enough to turn bright red. "She—she said she'd teach me the rest when I was older." He stammered.
He nodded noncommittally, and rose to watch his coffee, seeing as how the pot had started to drip. Teemo pointed a warning finger at him, "I'm not done yet! I have six more minutes, and I am going to use that time to pry the answers from you."
"How cute," Eli chuckled dauntingly. "How did you hear the bit about Ziva becoming Director, anyways?"
"I have my ways," Teemo replied stiffly.
"Let me guess," Eli sat back in his chair thoughtfully. "There's either a microphone in the living room, or you faked going to bed and stayed out in the hall."
A pause. "None of the above."
Eli couldn't help smiling once more. "Then you must have your mother's ears like a horse."
"You mean like an owl."
"Do owls even have ears?"
Teemo shrugged. "They have ear holes, if those count."
"Oh."
There was a moment of silence as Tony walked into the room, rubbing the back of his head. He headed straight for the coffee pot, mussing up his son's head as he passed. "Oh look, coffee."
As the NCIS agent sauntered over to watch the steaming liquid drip, Eli called after him casually, "I like this child. How come you do not have more Teemos?" Tony did not turn, but his father-in-law could see the strain in his jaw line.
"I, uh," Tony chuckled nervously, as if he wanted to steer clear of this conversation all together. In his reflection in the coffee pot, the about-to-retire Director could see the agent try to form an answer in his mind. He looked like he was about to quote a movie, by the way that a smile lit up his face, but as Tony turned, it fell. There was no use in having a façade for this kind of discussion. He just wished his only son wasn't there to hear it.
The younger(ish) man looked into Eli's glasses, noticed that Teemo was staring at him in an utterly confused and almost frightened manner, and knew that what he was about to say could not be undone. I hope Ziva doesn't kill me.
Tony cleared his throat. "After Teemo was born…there had been this mission to go to a undisclosed location to kill the leader of the group that attacked the president, but there had been a firefight…" Tony trailed off, not really wanting to remember that day. But he had to, to explain himself. Despite the slight hatred he felt for Eli, the son-in-law thought he owed this to him. He gulped down, looked over at Teemo. As he spoke, his son's eyes filled with tears, and it made Tony's voice and heart break. "Teemo was just a few months old when we left. I'd been shot in the knee, McGee was bleeding out on the beach, trying to help Abby pinpoint our location to send a rescue chopper, Gibbs..." Tony coughed. Gibbs hadn't come. He was one of the main reasons why the team had gone off to kill the leader in the first place. "…Ziva had a clear shot from where she was. She stood to assassinate the leader, who was standing over us on the balcony of his secret lair and…" The agent took a deep breath as he heard the shot ricochet around his brain. "They shot simultaneously. Ziva killed the man. He had taken aim at her pelvis, and it hit home. He had done his research. He knew that we were married, that we wanted to have more children." Tony paused, and scoffed at the dead man's selfishness. "If he could not be satisfied, no one could."
Streaming tears cascaded down Teemo's face. Even Eli could feel heat rushing to his eyes. He removed his glasses to wipe them. The sound of the coffee pot going off almost echoed through the house.
Tony put on a bleak smile. "Looks like the coffee done."
Did you make it? Just to let you know, that BIG paragraph up there explains why Tony and Ziva did not have any more children after Teemo. So go back if you skipped it!
Your thoughts? Part 2 will be up in an instant(:
Oh, and what did you think of Teemo? He's quite the little Ziva/Tony, isn't he? I made him a lot like Ziva for a reason, guyss :D