He wakes up, and finds a screeching toddler, next to his bed. He turns on the light. He looks down at her. Her face is red, and the tears roll. He reaches down, and lifts her into the bed, with him. He puts her next to him. He wipes off her cheeks.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
She sniffles, "Mommy!" she answers.
"Mommy isn't here."
"Mommy!"
"Mommy is in bed, asleep."
"Want, mommy."
"Zafirah, it's late. You need to go to sleep," he pleads.
"No," she shakes her head, "Mommy!"
"Mommy isn't here. I'm here. Do you want to sleep in here, with me? Will that make you feel better?"
"No."
"No?"
"Want, mommy," she splutters.
"Zafirah, lay down."
"No," she coughs, "Mommy!"
He notices the vein in her head pulsating. He reaches for his phone. He dials her number. Noting that the clock says 0328.
"I'm calling her. Ok? Will talking to her make you feel better?"
"No."
"David," she answers half-asleep.
"I have a little situation."
"Why are you calling so late? Is something wrong? Is she crying?"
"Yes, she wants you."
"Put her on the phone."
He holds the phone out, "Zafirah, your mommy is on the phone."
She takes the phone from him, "Mommy?"
"Zafirah, what's wrong?"
"Want, you."
"I'm at home. You need to go to sleep."
"No, want you."
"It's late. Go to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow. You can stay with me tomorrow. Ok?"
"No. Want you."
"Please go to sleep. If you go to sleep now, I'll come see you in the morning."
"No. Now!"
"Put your daddy back on the phone."
Zafirah wipes away snot, on the back of her sleeve, as she hands Tony the phone.
"She's not giving up," he points out.
"I know."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I'll be over in a few minutes," she tells him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Twenty minutes later she shows up, at his doorstep. She brings a change of clothes. She tosses it on the back of the couch. Zafirah runs out of the bedroom, to greet her. She is still crying. She wraps herself around Ziva's leg. Ziva bends down, and lifts her onto her hip.
"What's wrong?"
"Mommy," she answers.
"You needed me?"
Zafirah nods her head.
"Ok," Ziva lowers herself to the couch. Tony comes out, with a blanket and a pillow.
"You sure about this?"
"Yes," Ziva answers.
She lays down, with Zafirah on her chest. She pats the little girl's back, trying to soothe her, to sleep. Tony tosses a blanket over them. He quickly retreats to his room. Ziva feels Zafirah's sporadic breathing, as the crying begins to slow.
"Shh! You're ok. I'm right here. Close your eyes, and go to sleep," she begs, as she runs her fingers through Zafirah's curls. Her breathing begins to even out. She places her hand against Ziva's heart.
A hushed voice wakes her. She opens her eyes, and finds Tony, kneeling next to her.
"Hey, you need to get up. It's almost six."
"How am I going to get..."
"I'll take her."
He artfully slides Zafirah off her chest. Her head rests against his shoulder, as he carries her into the bedroom. He climbs into bed, with her on his chest. He closes his eyes, and listens as the shower turns on. The sound lulls him back to sleep.
Hours later he awakens to the sound of someone knocking on the door. He carefully slides out from under Zafirah, who is still fast asleep. He tiptoes out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He scurries through the living room, to the door. He pulls the door open, without looking through the peephole.
"What are you doing here?"
"You're not answering my phone calls."
"So you thought it would be a good idea, to just drop by?"
"We need to talk."
"About what?"
"What you said, the other day."
"By all means, come in."
She stops, before she reaches the living room. She surveys the room. There are toys all over the floor of the living room.
"So there's really a kid?"
"Yes," he answers.
"Where is she?"
"In the bedroom, asleep."
"She's here, now?"
"Where else would she be?"
E.J. shrugs, "With a babysitter."
"Why? I'm off. Why wouldn't I be with her?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I just found out."
"You really have a kid, with your partner?"
"Yes."
"What am I supposed to make of that?"
"I don't know."