Finally after a long, heartfelt conversation, he decides to let her sleep on it. She tosses, and turns most of the night. Eventually she falls to sleep. Hours later she rolls over, and finds lump in her bed. She opens her eyes, and looks at the lump, in the dark. She scoots closer to the lump. The lump rolls towards her.

"Hi, mommy," a sleepy voice responds.

"Why are you awake? It's early."

"Daddy 'sleep."

"Daddy's asleep? Mommy was asleep."

"No."

"I was asleep."

She crawls over to Ziva. She lies down on her chest. She places her ear against her heart. Ziva pets her unruly curls.

"Mommy, up?"

"No," Ziva argues.

"Please."

"Why don't you close your eyes, and go back to sleep?"

"I awake."

"It is too early for you to be awake. You will be cranky later."

"Daddy, cranky."

"Yes, sometimes daddy is cranky."

"Mommy?"

"What, Zafirah?"

"Love you."

"I love you more," Ziva answers.

"Up," Zafirah responds.

"We can't get up. We'll wake your daddy up."

"No."

"We won't?"

"No. He 'sleep."

"Maybe we should go back to sleep."

"No, no."

"What are we going to do, if we get up?"

"Go park."

"The sun isn't up yet."

"Walk to park," Zafirah pouts.

"Ok, go get dressed," Ziva gives in.

Ten minutes later they leave the apartment. Ziva grabs the stroller on her way out. When they make it to the bottom floor Ziva places Zafirah in the stroller. She buckles her in, and they start down the sidewalk, as the sun comes up.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy."

"What?" Ziva smiles.

"I stay."

"Stay where? You want to stay upstairs?"

Zafirah shakes her head, as Ziva pushes her in the stroller.

"Stay where, Zafirah?"

"You."

"You want to stay with me?"

"Uh huh."

"I have to go to work tomorrow."

"No, no go."

"No, go? I have to go."

"No," Zafirah whines.

"You want me to stay home with you?"

"Daddy go."

"You want daddy to go to work, and mommy stay home?"

"Yeah-huh."

"Did daddy tell you that he has to go back to work soon?"

"Uh huh."

"Do you think that we should get him some breakfast?"

"No, park."

"On our way back from the park."

"No, no, no," she shakes her head.

"You don't want muffins?"

"Booberry?"

"You can get a blueberry muffin, if you want."

"Maybe we should go get breakfast first, then daddy can go to the park with us. What do you think? Are you hungry?"

"I want booberry."

"Ok," Ziva nods.

When they get back to the apartment Tony is still asleep on her couch. Ziva puts the stroller into the closet, and places the muffins on the table. Zafirah looks up at her. Ziva points.

"Go wake him up."

Zafirah's lips widen into a smile. She wanders over to the couch. She smacks his cheeks.

"Daddy!" she yells "Daddy, up. Up!" she squeals.

Tony's eyes pop open. He looks at the bright-eyed toddler.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

"Up."

"I don't want to get up."

"Booberry."

"Blueberry? What are you talking about?"

"Muffins."

"Muffins? Where?"

"There," she points to the table.

"You got me some muffins?"

"No, mine," she answers.

"All of them?"

"Booberry."

"I don't want any of your stinky old blueberry muffins."

"Up! Up, now!" she insists.

He rolls off the couch. He scoops her up, and kisses her cheeks. She giggles as he kisses her.

"Daddy!"

"I'm not stopping until you give me a kiss."

She plants a kiss on his cheek. He sits her down, and they head into the kitchen. Half an hour later Zafirah is passed out on the couch, among a pile of books. Tony, and Ziva sit at the kitchen table, sipping coffee.

"Did you think about what I said?" Tony wonders.

"You know that I..."

"Have commitment issues," he finishes the sentence for her.

"Yes."

"And you want to be sure that I am serious, that I am not going to hurt you."

"Yes."

"What can I do to prove that I am serious?"

"Nothing."

"Would you like me to propose marriage?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We both know that's not going to happen, ever."

"You would never want to marry me?"

"Now you're putting words in my mouth."

Tony gets up from the table, and goes into the living room. He grabs his jacket, which is draped over the arm of the couch. He reaches into the pocket, and returns to the table.

She stares at the table, in silence. He slides the object towards her. She pushes it back.

"I don't know what that is, but I don't want it."

"I know you don't think that I'm serious, but I am."

"No, you're not."

"I am," he argues, opening the box, revealing a ring.

"When did you get that?"

"The other day."

"Why? Why all of the sudden are you pushing for this. You want us to move in together. You want us to get married? I don't understand."

"We have a child together."

"That doesn't mean that we need to be together. It doesn't change anything."

"It changes everything. Did you ever think that this all happened for a reason? Maybe this was a sign. This is the driving force that pushes us together."

"Together? Why do you keep saying that? Why do you think that we should be together? Because of Zafirah?"

"Because I love you."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because it's true."

"And you want me to say it back. I'm not ready for that, even if it were true. I don't want to rush into something that I am not ready for. I know how it will end, if we do. Things will implode. I am not willing to take that chance. We need to be amicable, at the very least, for her sake."

"Why can't you just admit it?"