Sunrise
Although both Timmy and Tony were poles apart in character, there was several traits they shared, one of which Ziva blamed entirely on their father; their inability to get up. Growing up, as small children, early morning tantrums and shouting matches were far too common. Abi had inherited her mother's 'early worm' tendencies, and but the boys were a test to Ziva's patience.
This morning was no different. A Sunday, with neither Ziva or Tony on-call, but with a promise to attend a christening of one of Ziva's friends child. Abi was already up and dressed, lazily watching the morning news of a bowl of Cap'n Crunch. After no reply for either her sons or husband, Ziva took matters into her own hands.
Marching into Timmy's room, she yanked open the curtains, flooding the room with morning sunlight. A head of curls emitted a groan, pushing himself off of the bed, duvet still wrapped around his body, and shuffled from the room, despite his mother's protests, and into his brother's room, collapsing on top of another duvet-ed figure, who didn't even bother to protest, simply moved over for him.
Ziva appeared at the door, a highly unamused look on her face.
" Timothy. Anthony."
Twin mumbles were her response, much to Ziva's continued annoyance. Under the covers, the brothers look at each other, muttering in hushed voices.
" This isn't going well, bro."
" Nu-uh. We need to bossman."
" Got it."
" BOYS."
Flinching at their mother's voice, the two sat up and climbed out of bed, duvets on their shoulders.
" Up, Mum."
Ziva nodded with approval, turning around and heading down the hallway to the stairs. Her feet had barely reached the top step when a pair of boxer-clad, lanky teenagers tip-toed across the hall behind her, into the master bedroom.
" Dad."
There was a grunt from the elder DiNozzo, who rolled over and cracked an eye open, meeting his sons' look.
" Problem?"
" She's making us get up.
" She opened my curtains."
Tony winced, before lifting the duvet, nodding approvingly.
" You earned it."
The boys crawled in, suddenly five years old again, and snuggled up to Tony, who lazily wrapped an arm around either of them, drawing them in, sharing a soft laugh with them at the absurdity of it. It took all of 5 minutes for all three to be snoring peacefully again.
" Anthony? Timothy? Where are you? I swear, if you're playing mind games, you'll be so-"
Ziva stopped, retracing back to her own bedroom door, staring, mouth agape, at the bundle of DiNozzo under the duvets. A smile tugged at her lips; the scene was rather cute. However, the time idly ticking away was present in her mind, and she turned, shouting down to her daughter.
" Fancy getting Timothy's air rifle from the garage for me, sweetheart?"