Dreidel
It is he who offers to clean up after dinner; the residual euphoria of being released early from headquarters, on a friday night no less, buoys his mood even hours later, and he shoos her off with a wink and a quick kiss to both their cheeks. They disappear from the table in a sweep of her curls, and from the kitchen he can hear the familiar sound of bath time and warm laughter carry down the hall.
With the last dish scrubbed and placed in its home among the cabinets, he sweeps his hand across the light switch with a flip of his thumb, and follows the low voices that resound from far off in their home. The lights of the menorah on the surface of the windowsill help guide him through the otherwise darkened living room, and he frowns as he passes through the empty room where he expected to find the pair he seeks.
The hall to their bedroom is darker without the light of the flickering candles, but the growing sound of a soft melody catches his ears as he approaches the last room on the right. He pauses outside the cracked door, where light filters out underneath the gap, and when the soft voice begins to sing again, he pushes open the door soundlessly.
Her back is to him from where she sits upon the hardwood floor besides the armoire GIbbs had fashioned for them, more so her, in his very basement.
A familiar chest sits open beside them, one Ziva's had for as long as he can remember. He cannot see the contents of it from where he stands, nor has he ever peeked, but when he spies the spinning dreidel their daughter watches with eyes mesmerized, he reasons the treasure came from within its depths.
He recognizes the throaty accent of her hebrew, and while he's heard her sing several foreign lullabies that he can proudly recognize, this particular song isn't familiar, nor one he thinks he's ever heard before. But it still makes him smile, and his chest grows even warmer at the laughter it elicits from their daughter as her tiny hands make to grab for the object.
"Sevivon, sov, sov, sov."
Their daughter manages to bring her small hand down swiftly on the dreidel at last, releasing an unintelligible sound of surprise that finally causes him to chuckle aloud. The baby girl's exclamation brings Ziva's song to a halt, and once she hears Tony's chuckle she turns swiftly to look at him over her shoulder.
A warm smile spreads across her face as she reaches out to gather their daughter in her arms without tearing her gaze away. The baby's small hands fumble with the object and her attention doesn't falter even as Ziva brushes a hand through her soft hair.
"Playing games without me?" Tony finally pushes off from the doorframe and comes to crouch besides the pair. Their daughter looks up then as Ziva laughs, and with her father's eyes on her, she immediately thrusts the dreidel toward him, gurgling brightly.
"Would you like to show your father how we play?" Ziva leans down to brush a kiss against the baby's cheek, and looks up to motion to Tony to take the dreidel from her grasp.
Tony's answering smile is all kinds of brilliant as he takes the old, wooden dreidel, lowering it the floor with a quick look from Ziva. She nods, eyes bright, and as he twists the top to spin it across the floor, Ziva's enigmatic smile reigns free, and her melodic song begins once more.