His eyes had been open for all of two minutes, when he decided that the weather is far too cold, and gross, to venture out of bed. It was a Sunday, and so far his cell phone hasn't buzzed, he was hoping it would stay that way. He turned over in her much to warm bed, and found her sitting with her knees pressed up, and a textbook resting on them. She was wearing her concentration face. A deep frown, and focused eyes.
"Morning," he drawled, noticing that she had made them both coffee. His steamed from the second nightstand. He had claimed it as his nightstand, with a sports biography sitting under the lamp, and his watch poking out from the drawer.
"Boker Tov," she said, looking up from her textbook.
"I vote that we spend all day in bed," he murmured, as he sat up slightly, in order to take a sip of coffee.
"Your wish is my command," she said, her eyes back on the textbook. He watched as she wrote something down on notepad. Then flipped back and forth between pages. She have must noticed his eyes on her. "I will be done with this soon, then I am all yours."
"Take your time," he said, as he took a sip of coffee. Licking his lips, as the sugar hit them. "We've got all day."
"I am nearly done," she said, frowning as she read over something. "P values are even less thrilling than case reports."
He let out a little giggle, and tried not think of the pile that was waiting for him, when he returned to the office on Monday. Maybe, he could give some of it to Probe 2.0. Ellie, was still so eager to please.
"Maybe, we should invite McNerd to dinner," he said. "He could help you."
Or maybe Ellie, he thought, seeing as she had quite the aptitude for math. Then again, that would odd seeing as Ziva and Ellie hadn't met for more than a few minutes, during the hustle bustle of the holidays.
"Maybe," she echoed, not looking up from the page. "Though he would probably find it very basic."
"Still," he said. "I'm sure he'd be happy to help."
She closed her book, and stowed it away on the shelf under her nightstand. She moved just a tiny bit closer to him. A loose curl tickled his cheek.
"I am sure he would," she said, "But, it would make a very boring dinner conversation."
"Yeah," he said, as she leaned onto his shoulder. His arm snaked around her, pulling her close. "That it would."
She wrapped her leg around his, under the covers. He tugged her a bit closer. He watched, as she absent mindedly fiddled with her necklace.
"Can I ask you something?" he asked.
"Of course," she replied, looking up at him, eyes wide.
"Who got you, your new necklace?" he asked, as she stopped fiddling with it.
"I did," she said.
"Oh," came his response, as she picked up the pendant again.
"Who did you think had brought it for me?" she asked, as he studied how it gleamed.
"I dunno," he murmured. "I thought maybe Schmeil, or Gibbs."
She offered him a soft chuckle.
"I do not think either of those two know their way around a jewelry store," she replied.
"Well, Gibbs would know the ring section," he said. She laughed again.
"Schmeil and I," Ziva said with a sigh. "We were not so close then."
He knew parts of this story. Schmeil had known her mother, and had not supported Ziva's choice to pick up her fathers guns. They had kept in touch, as she got caught in her father's world, but only superficially. The closeness they had during her childhood, had only resumed when she became a US citizen.
"I reached out to him," she said, her voice still heavy. "After I came back. I wanted to have a connection to Israel, that was not through my father. I also needed his wisdom, so much was changing."
He patted her shoulder.
"Well, who wouldn't want Schmeil the man of steel in their lives," he said. "I like this necklace, it is different from the other one."
"You remember my old one?" she asked.
"We dangled it out of grate to get cell reception once," he muttered. "In a shipping container, remember?"
She smiled. A full moon of smile. She had been far less careful with that necklace. She had been far less careful back then.
"We have had some adventures," she replied.
"I think we've still got a few left in us," he said. "I like your new necklace. Though it's not really new anymore. Still, I like it."
"I got my old one at my Bat Mitzvah," Ziva said, fiddling with pendant. "My mother gave it to me. She said I was a woman now, and scolded me for having dirt on my dress."
He laughed. A hearty laugh.
"Tali had an identical one," Ziva continued, "I think Nettie must have given it to her. She did not wear hers so often."
"Did you want one that looked the same?" he asked.
"No," Ziva whispered. "My life had changed. I did not want an identical one."
"But, you wanted a replacement?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, with a heavy breath. "This going to sound silly, but I missed it."
"Doesn't sound silly at all," he said.
"Do you remember when we went undercover as the Rainers?" she asked.
"Yes," he said with an enthusiastic smile. Those memories had sustained him for many months during his agent afloat. Those memories were nothing compared to the real thing.
"I had to take it off," Ziva said. "Sophie Rainer was not Jewish. I remember, when I gave it to Jenny to look after, I actually asked her to take care of it."
He could only faintly remember, Ziva sliding the necklace into an envelope and handing it Jenny, whispering something in French, knowing that neither Gibbs or Tony understood. Then she had stepped into Sophie Rainer's expensive shoes, and they were briefed on the mission.
"And after I came back," she said, her voice still far away. She seldom ever said Somalia, but he always knew what she was talking about. "It was only after I brought the new necklace, that I started to feel that I was getting back up. For so long, I felt like I was just sort of floating in a life that was not quite mine."
He remembered her back then. That distant look she would get in her eyes. That night in the Parsian hotel room, where she called out in the throes of a nightmare. He hadn't understood the Arabic that frothed from her mouth, but the fear had echoed in his ears, long after she fell silent.
"You didn't reach out," he murmured.
"How could I?" she asked. "I did not even know how to explain it to myself. I could not explain it to others. Even now it is hard."
She had rushed healing last time. Sitting in the therapist's office, only long enough to be certified sane enough to return to her desk. She had wallpapered over the holes in her psyche. This had been mostly fine, except sometimes when the wind blew through, she felt the paper rip. Now, in her therapy sessions, she ripped the wallpaper off, and worked with the therapist to fill in the holes. It hurt, much more than any bullet wound, but it was needed. She wanted this. She wanted a good life, and so she had to build the foundations.
"But the necklace helped," he asked.
"Yes," Ziva said. "It made me feel better. It made me feel like I was a part of something again. It made me feel like I was making my own choices."
Eli had put a gun in her hand before she had known she could say no. She had been at the mercy of Saleem and his men for all those months. So much of her life had been spent at the mercy of others. He wished he could find a way to time travel, and undo it all. Make it all better.
"Good," he said. "That's really good."
"Why did you ask?" she asked.
"I just kinda wondered," he whispered. "Especially, after the conversation we had yesterday."
Another cold day. Sandwiches at her dinner table. A conversation about religion, as she returned from Shabbat services.
"My necklace, is not just about my religion," she said softly.
"Okay," he said, "You said your mother gave it you at your Bat Mitzvah right?"
"The first one yes," she said.
"Maybe, we'll do that one day with our daughter," he said softly.
He could only really imagine, them with a daughter. With a daughter he wouldn't make his Dad's mistakes. Men always found a reason to hate their fathers.
"You have been very plucky lately," she said.
"I think you mean clucky," he replied. "And the old biological clock is ticking."
Her nose over his mouth. Wild curls. Tiny grubby hands, smearing food on the couch. He wanted it all.
"Men do not have biological clocks," she replied. Women did, and sometimes she heard hers tick. She tried to hard to silence it.
"No," he said, "But I've got a five year plan."
"A five year plan?" she echoed. "What does this involve?"
"The usual," he said. "These things traditionally have an order."
"What things?" she asked.
"You know first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby carriage," he said.
She swallowed thickly. Then blinked a couple of times. He tried to read the emotion. Surprise, maybe.
"You would like to have children within five years?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I mean I'm not getting any younger, and I'd want to be able to chase them around, before needing a knee replacement."
"It might be a hard road," she whispered, her hand resting on her stomach. Would they one day fill it?
"Ssh," he soothed. "That doesn't matter, we'll get there."
"A year ago, you were scared of children," she said. "I remember us looking after Leon's children."
It was so weird to hear her call him Leon. Still, she had the right to do that, now that she had let go of the badge.
"That's because they were hurting," he said. "Didn't want to make them any worse for them."
Both of them had known the pain of losing a mother. He had been a little younger than Jared. She had been about Kayla's age.
"I like to think we made it a little better," she said softly. "For just a moment."
"Yeah," he said, with a sigh. He did too.
"I would like to finish my degree before we have children," she announced, after a few seconds of quiet.
"Okay," he said softly.
He mentally did the math, it was looking like Baby DiNozzo would come to fruition in five years at the very earliest. Longer probably, because they would fighting an uphill battle. How old would he be then? Would he be shuffling along on walker, while the kid took their first steps?
"But, I will be taking summer classes," she said. "I should be done in another two and half years, three at the maximum."
He could already picture her in graduation regalia. A huge smile on her face. Pride radiating off her. He couldn't shake the image, of her with a bowling ball under gown. Maybe, they would be granted such an everyday miracle. Maybe, for once something in their lives would be easy.
"You don't need to rush," he soothed. He could wait. They could have so many adventures in the meantime. There were so many movies, he needed to show her.
"I am not rushing," Ziva assured him, hand resting on his chest. "I would like to get it finished. I enjoy my classes, but I would like to be using my skills to help people. Besides, I do not think I could stand a whole summer with nothing to do."
Her life was hardly empty. She taught self-defense at the women's shelter on Wednesday nights. She had her translation job, two mornings a week, which paid her peanuts compared to her NCIS salary, but she enjoyed it. She had also done some volunteer work at the NGO, Leyla worked at. For a while, she had taken adult ballet classes, but that had dropped off, as her course load grew. She also had friends. And him. She always had him.
"You could just enjoy the summer," he said. Maybe, he would try and wrangle more time off, so they could hang out more. "We've got that trip to the motherland planned."
"Most of the summer classes are online," she told him. "We will still go to Italy. We already have the tickets, and you have put in the leave."
She hadn't told him, that Schmeil was helping her trace the DiNozzo family, and she was hoping to find where in Italy, they had departed from. So far, the search had turned up very little, but she remained hopeful.
"Okay," he said softly. "I'm excited for that, you know. Our little Roman Holiday."
"I know," she said. "I am excited too."
A/N:
I don't own a thing.
Bonus chapter that was not in the plan, for this fic. But was born out of writer's block. Also, I re-read the last chapter of "To Be By Your Side" and realised there were so plot points I hadn't picked up on, so this sort of marries them all together.
Thanks for all the lovely reviews, faves, follows, and PMs.