"Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?" he inquires.
"I have learned not to believe in coincidence. Why?"
"This happened for a reason. She happened for a reason."
"And what would that be?"
"I guess that is what we have to figure out."
"And how do we do that?"
"Only time will tell."
"You're sure about that?"
"Yep."
"Mommy?"
Ziva looks to Tony, and smiles. She gets off the couch, and makes her way to the bedroom door. She tiptoes into the bedroom, and squats beside the bed. The light spills in, from the living room. She can see Zafirah's little face. She kisses her on the cheek.
"Go back to sleep," she muses.
"Mommy?"
"Hm?"
"Stay."
Ziva yawns, "I'll be in the next room."
"No."
"No?"
"Stay," Zafirah repeats.
"Stay with you?"
"Yes."
Ziva slips her out of the bed, and puts her over her shoulder. The toddler snuggles close. She puts her hand in Ziva's hair, rubbing it between her fingers. Ziva makes it to the couch.
Before she knows it she's dozed off. When she wakes up there is a blanket over her, and a pillow under her head. It's still dark out, so she closes her eyes, and goes back to sleep.
When she opens her eyes again, she finds a pair of eyes staring back at her. Zafirah sits on her chest. She smacks her cheeks. "Mommy, up," she demands.
"Stop," she groans. Zafirah stops smacking her cheeks, and crosses her arms, against her chest. She flashes a devilish grin. Ziva watches closely, as her tiny face moves forward. She plants a big, wet, slobbery, kiss on Ziva's cheek. Zafirah leans back, and giggles hysterically. Ziva wipes the slobber of her cheek.
"You think that's funny?" she questions, sitting up, sliding Zafirah onto her lap. She tips the little girl onto her back. She leans down.
"No, no..." Zafirah giggles.
"No? I can't kiss you?"
"No," she giggles.
Ziva kisses both of her cheeks, and her forehead. She tips her back up, and smiles at her.
"I Sorry," Zafirah apologizes.
"Are you done being goofy now?"
"Yes," she smiles, "Up."
"I'm up. Where is your daddy?"
She shrugs. Ziva gets off the couch, and hoists Zafirah onto her hip. She walks past the coffee table, to the edge of the living room. She pushes Tony's door open, the rest of the way. She stops when she reaches his bed. She finds him dead asleep, snoring like a wild boar. She places Zafirah on his chest.
"Go ahead, wake him up."
Zafirah sits on his chest, with her legs on either side of him. She starts bouncing up and down. "Daddy, daddy!"
His eyes fly open. He looks at the little girl, "What are you doing?"
"Daddy, up," she answers.
"Zafirah..." he tries to reason.
"Up!" she insists.
"How can I get up? You're jumping on me. I can't go anywhere." She stands up, and steps to the side of him. She jumps up, and down, on the bed, beside him. He sits up, and grabs her ankle.
"Stop, jumping," he warns.
She stops dead. She just looks at him. "Come here."
"Trouble?" she asks him.
He motions, "Come here."
She walks over to him. She stands still. "A little closer," he tells her.
She takes a step closer. He plants a kiss on her cheek. She squirms, and wipes the kiss on her shoulder.
He looks over at his partner, who is laughing.
"What's so funny?" he questions.
"Nothing," she shakes her head.
"You got the both of us up, now what?"
"Play," she smiles.
"Go play? What do you want to play?"
"Zoo," she answers.
"You want to play zoo?" Tony tries to clarify.
"No, go to zoo," she replies.
"Then you need to go get dressed," he tells her.
She steps over him, and slides off the edge of the bed. They listen as her bare feet smack against the wood floor. They watch, until she disappears out of sight. Ziva looks at him.
"What? Did I do something wrong?"
"You're spoiling her. She's going to think that she can have whatever she wants, whenever she wants it," she warns.
"Says the woman who came over at three o'clock in the morning, because she was crying."
"That's different," she argues.
"I don't see how."
"It just is."
"So if she cries she gets her way?"
"You give her, her way, without her even crying."
"It's not like it's hurting anyone."
"Can you just reel it in, a little bit? That's all I'm asking."
"What are you saying?"
"You have to be the parent. You have to tell her no sometimes."
"I don't want to be the bad cop. Can't you be the bad cop?"
"Tony..."
"How can you say no to her? Have you seen her face? I'd like to see you say no to her pouty face. It doesn't work. She gives you that look, and makes you feel terrible, and you have to give in."
"You don't have to."
"Try to tell her no."
"About what?"
"Anything. Just try to tell her no, once today."
"And then what?"
"When you can't, you can tell me that I'm right."
"That's not going to happen."
"You can't tell her no."
"She's a baby, I can tell her no. She's not in charge."
"I beg to differ."
"That's because you're her dad, and she has you wrapped around her finger."
"You act like you're a hard-ass, but you can't tell her no either."
"We will see."