Rifiuto: Non Miriena
"Is Asher... is it normal for him to act... strange?" Ziva looked up from brushing her hair to see Tim come back into the bedroom. He glanced back over his shoulder, but Asher was in the living room, reading.
"What do you mean?" She asked, mid-brush. Tim licked his lips, turning to her. She sat cross-legged on the bed in only her underwear, brushing the wet tangles from her dark locks. Droplets of water cooled on her beautiful skin, but Tim was too distracted by his son's odd behavior to say anything. She thought, shrugging as she continued her work. "He has been quiet, but... he is always quiet. He was not a very fussy baby-"
"No, I... I mean..." He sighed, taking a seat on the bed beside her and pulling on his shoes. "I went in to talk to him, and he wouldn't look at me. And when he did... when I asked him to tell me what was wrong, all he said was that you 'can apply for American citizenship after three years if you're married.'" Ziva stopped brushing, her dark eyes snapping open. Slowly she raised her head, watching him.
"He told you, too?" Tim stopped pulling on his jacket, and turned to her. He narrowed his eyes.
"What do you mean 'you, too?' Ziva, what's going on?" She sighed, quickly finished brushing her hair and then set the brush down. "Ziva. Talk to me." She puffed out her cheeks, glancing at her hands before meeting his suspicious green gaze.
"When you were in the shower, Asher told me that you can apply to be an American if you live in America for five years. And then he asked if we would live in America for five years."
"What did you say?" Tim asked, returning to pulling his jacket on. She sighed and got up, going to him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his waist, staring into his eyes.
"I told him, that if you have your way, we will be living in America forever." Tim wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.
"He's right. I'm not going to let you go now, not that I've got you back. And Asher... now that he's in my life, he's staying. You're both staying right here." She reached up, brushing her fingers against his cheek. "Go on." She took a deep breath.
"And..." Slowly, she pulled away, going to the closet and grabbing a red t-shirt from the hanger before pulling it on. "And then he..." She shook her head, grabbing a pair of tan cargo pants and stepping into them. Tim watched her, enjoying the sight of her shimmying the clothing up her small hips, and after a moment he grabbed a tie, putting it on before deciding against it and yanking it off. She pulled on a tan over shirt and turned to him, tossing her hair out of the collar; it cascaded down her back in loose waves. "And then he told me that if you live in America for three years, you can apply to be an American-"
"- but only if you are married." She looked up at him, surprised. "When I went to check on him, I asked him what was wrong, and that was all he said." She nodded in agreement, screwing her mouth up. Then, she followed him out of the room, joining them in the living room and accepting the backpack he handed her. Their fingers brushed, a sight that didn't go unnoticed by their son, who sat on the sofa, watching his parents closely. Ziva blushed.
"Sorry." Tim nodded as Ziva turned to Asher. "Come on, you are going to work with Abba and I."
"What about school?" His parents shared a glance.
"We'll get that figured out next week, okay? Figured we'd take this week to get settled and used to everything." Tim replied, as Asher closed his book and got up. The boy grabbed his backpack, nodding. As they left the apartment, Asher stopped, turning to his father.
"You should propose, Abba. Ima wants you too." Tim struggled for several minutes to say something, before his son turned and rushed to catch up with his mother. Shaking off the suggestion, Tim began to follow, before realizing he'd left his badge and gun sitting in the nightstand drawer. Silently, he slipped back into the apartment, heading to the bedroom. Quickly slipping the holster into the small of his back, he grabbed his badge and left the room, heading back to the door, when something caught his eye.
Slowly, he picked up the folded piece of paper, with Asher's slightly messy scrawl. A quick check told him this wasn't homework, or stories or drawings that he worked on when he was in his room. No, it was a short list. With a title, a list of numbers and a short list of various things he wanted. And not a single thing on the list was a toy or game.
Things to Do to Get Abba and Ima Married
It was slightly hard to make out, but that was indeed the title of his list. This is definitely no bucket list.
1. Make Abba and Ima fall in love
2. Beg Abba to propose
3. Make Ima say yes
4. Get Abba and Ima married
5. Make Ima American
The list was short, but obviously, the boy had put a lot of thought into how he could get his parents together. He was their only link, after all. But it was the last thing on the list that tugged at Tim's heart.
6. Be a happy family- forever
He knew their son wanted a family; hell, both he and Ziva had been desperate for the home neither one of them had ever had, so it was no surprise their son wanted the same. Except, unlike them, Asher was obviously willing to fight for it- he had a whole plan written out. Tim sighed. He would have been exactly like Asher, had his father been anyone but the Ambassador. And Ziva... well, it appeared that both Tim and Ziva's fathers had been cut from the same cloth, if not their children as well. Maybe that was why they'd been drawn to each other in the first place; finding what neither got from their parents in each other. And they, in turn, had created a child of their own. But unlike us, Asher will be raised right. He'll be raised loved, and protected and he will always be our first priority.
"Abba, Ima said to-" Tim looked up, as Asher came back into the apartment. The boy stopped, his eyes going to the paper in his father's hand. "Where did you get that?" Tim raised an eyebrow.
"You mind telling me what this is, Asher Malachi?" He asked, folding the paper and waving it at him. The boy started briefly, surprised to hear his father use his full name. But he recovered quickly and reached for the paper. "Nothing." He replied, snatching the paper from Tim's hand with ninja-like skills before stuffing it in his pocket and rushing from the apartment. Five minutes later, Ziva appeared.
"Tim?" He jumped, surprised to find her next to him. Her brow furrowed. "Is everything okay? You look like you have seen a goat."
"Ghost, Ziva. And... yeah, I'm fine." He quickly licked his lips, before taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her lips before pulling her to the door.