Ziva pushes a shopping cart. Zafirah sits inside, she swings her legs, as they move. Tony follows along next to them. Finally they reach the section that they are looking for. Ziva stops in front of the rack. She looks at it, wearily. Tony shakes his head, taking in the rows, and rows of girly clothing. He approaches the rack, and pulls out an outfit. He holds it up for Zafirah to see.
"This one?"
She shakes her head. Ziva looks over at Tony, and then to Zafirah. She bends down to her level.
"What colors do you like?" Ziva questions.
"Purple, red, blue."
"What about pink?" Tony wonders.
"No," she shakes her head.
Tony grabs another selection, and holds it up for her. She frowns, "No, daddy."
"What's wrong with it? It's purple."
"Pants," she answers.
"You don't want pants?"
"No," she responds.
They move on to the next rack. He grabs another choice. He holds it up for her.
"This one?"
"Ok," she nods.
An hour and a half later they return to Ziva's apartment. Ziva unloads bags, as Tony watches. She looks up from him, from her seat on the floor.
"Are you going to help, or are you just going to watch?"
"You didn't look like you needed any help. Do you really want me to help?"
Ziva looks at the pile to her right, and the pile to her left. Her legs are stretched out in front of her. Zafirah sits between them, trying to help.
"No," she finally answers.
"Why don't I go get us something to eat?"
"Ok," she agrees.
"Mommy!" the little girl shrieks.
Ziva looks down at the tot, "What?"
Zafirah points to an item in the pile to Ziva's left. Ziva picks up the book, and hands it back to Zafirah. Tony bends down, beside the baby.
"I'm going to go to get something to eat. Will you be ok, while I'm gone?"
"Bye," she answers.
"Bye," he kisses the little one's cheek.
He grabs his keys, and heads for the door. He feels around in his pocket.
"Ziva, do you have my phone?"
"No, why would I have your phone?"
"Zafirah, do you have my phone?"
She looks up at him. She points to the coffee table. "No, there."
He walks over to the coffee table, and picks the phone up. He heads for the door.
Fifteen minutes later Ziva has sorted out all of the piles. She and Zafirah are passed out on the couch. Ziva lays on her back, on the couch. Zafirah lays on her chest, with her head turned to one side. Her right hand rests against Ziva's heart. Ziva doesn't hear the knock, at the door. The door opens, and he steps in. He stands by the door, for several moments, before moving towards the living room. He stops next to the couch. He stares at the scene before him. He exhales, and clears his throat.
"Ziva?"
She opens her eyes. She looks at him questioningly, in fear, and bewilderment. After a few seconds she is able to speak.
"What are you doing here?"
"You called in sick. Tony, called you in sick. I hadn't heard from you. I thought that maybe something had happened."
"Why?"
"Because never in the past five and a half years, have you, ever called in sick."
"Right," she nods.
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
He points to the toddler asleep, against her chest. She looks at the sleeping girl.
"Oh, right."
"So are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"Do I have to?"
"Ziver," he scolds.
She sits up. Zafirah moves with her. Ziva stands up, and walks past Gibbs. She goes into her room, and carefully places Zafirah in her bed. She pulls covers over her, and walks away. She returns to the living room, and finds Gibbs standing where she left him. He points to the couch, motioning for her to sit.
"I should have called you myself."
"Yes, you should have. Why didn't you?"
"I was asleep."
"Asleep? At six o'clock in the morning? When do you ever sleep that late?"
"I don't usually. Tony called me sometime around three, and woke me up."
"Why would he call you at three o'clock in the morning? I thought he was supposed to be on vacation."
"He was, it wasn't much of a vacation."
"Where did he go?"
"Does it matter?"
"Ziva! What is going on? Why is there a little girl in your bedroom?"
"Tony called me last night, and brought her to me, from the airport."
"Why? Where did he get her? Why would he bring her to you?"
She stands up, "I think you should sit down," she answers.
He looks at her for a moment, and then takes a seat on the couch. She bites a fingernail, and then begins.
"Tony and I have been guilty of breaking rules, in the past."
"Why are you bringing it up now?"
"You didn't know?"
"I always assumed, but..."
"You never said anything."
"Because I didn't think it was affecting your work. I thought that it had run it's course, and it wasn't going to be an issue."
"So did I."
"You were wrong?"
"Yes, very."
"How does all of this fit together? I mean, how does one thing relate to the other?"
She stares at her boss. This was harder than she thought. He was like a father to her. She knew that telling him, would disappoint him. She had done that enough. Finally she exhales, and answers, "When I left, after Tony killed Michael, I had more reasons that I told you."
"Like what?"
"I was pregnant."