Tony leaned his head on the window of the car, as they sped through the streets. It was just after midnight, and traffic was calm for a Saturday night.
"I am glad Abby's birthday parties, have become more less vild," Ziva said, as she drove slightly above the speed limit.
"Yeah," Tony said with a smile. The half a dozen beers he'd had, giving him a little buzz. "Forty was definitely less crazy than thirty. You should be very glad you weren't there for thirty, I don't think I sat down properly for a week."
Ziva smiled a cheeky smile, then raised her eyebrows, as her imagination ran wild. He watched her through the rearview mirror.
"I'll tell you the story," he said, Abby's parties were always crazy. "One day. When you've had more to drink."
They had flipped a coin, to see who would drink at Abby's party. Ziva had lost the coin toss, and was the sober driver.
"I spoke to Breena," Ziva said, as Tony watched the almost empty streets whiz by. It had rained earlier, so the tires made a noise on the wet tar. "She wanted to thank us, for gifting them our reservation. I thought we were pretending that Jimmy booked it under your name, to hide the surprise."
"I knew Palmer, would spill the beans," Tony murmured. "I hope they enjoy it."
"Breena promised me they would," Ziva said. "They are going to do one last treatment in April, if that doesn't work they are going to look into adoption again, maybe from the foster system. There are lots of children in need, in the foster system."
"Good," he said softly, slipping deeper into the seat. Alcohol affected him so much more, the older he got. "Good."
He knew most of what Ziva told him, as he and Jimmy had talked more in the past couple of weeks. Jimmy seemed lighter.
"I also had a chance to speak to Ellie," Ziva continued. "Properly this time."
She had met Ellie briefly in passing, when she had picked Tony up from work, and during the winter holiday season, but they had not spoken more than a few words. She liked Ellie, well enough, and hoped she had settled in well to the team.
"She's cool isn't she," he said with a smile. "Though between her and McGenius, the bullpen is swimming in nerd speak. Bossman and I, can't keep up."
Ziva smiled. Those pumpkin walls seemed to distant now.
"I like her," Ziva declared. "She asked me lots of questions about Falafel and Israeli cuisine."
"Yeah," he said, with a lazy yawn. "She likes her food. She does this weird food association thing."
"Maybe, we could have them over for dinner," Ziva said, as she took a sharp right turn, and Tony gripped onto the door. "Her and her husband."
"Maybe," he said, not really wanting to commit. "Or we could go out."
"Maybe," she said. "Her husband seems very quiet. Nice though."
Jake had kept to the corner of Abby's party. Perhaps he was freaked out by some of Abby's more alternate guests, or maybe by the stories he had heard from Gibbs.
"Ellie asked me, how we do it, the other day," Tony said.
The conversation, had taken place in the car on the way back to base, after a particularly gory crime scene. Ellie was flicking through the photos from the Purim party, which she had missed. A sad look had crossed her face, and the secrets had spilled out.
"How we do what?" she asked, as made an abrupt stop at a red light. Her driving had improved in recent years, but the jolt was enough to make him hold on tight.
"How we find things to talk about," he said, as he watched the other cars zoom past. "Considering you don't have a security clearance anymore."
"We are never short on conversation," Ziva said, as she placed her hand on his thigh. "Or other ways of communicating."
"No, we're not," he agreed, with a brief smirk. "She said that her and Jake, used to talk about work a lot. Like a lot, a lot. She's not really sure if they have any interests outside of work, and whenever she tries to suggest stuff for them to do together, he vetoes it. That's why they didn't come to Purim, because they'd had a big fight. She asked what we talk about, and if it's different now."
"You told her about us?" Ziva asked, pressing on the gas pedal.
Ziva had always protected her privacy, and was not really sure how she felt about Tony, talking about them, to someone she didn't really know. She liked Ellie, but she also wondered what advice they a couple of all of ten months, could give people who had been married for years.
"Well, McGossip got it into her head that we were together, while you still worked with us," Tony said, trying to lighten the mood. "I had to set the record straight."
"That is not an unusual assumption," Ziva hummed, trying to keep her tone neutral, still unsure if she liked the conversation Tony was recounting. "What did you tell Ellie about us?"
"I told her what we talk about," Tony said, still trying to hold onto the jovial tone. "How I've made it my life's work, to knock Pirates of the Caribbean out of your top five movies."
"I do not think, I even have five favourite movies," Ziva said, with a laugh. Maybe, this was okay, she thought.
"Well, it's definitely my job to expand your film horizons," he said. "Though you liked 8 and ½, you like the Italian classics."
"I did," she said, her tone softening. "We do not only talk about movies."
"No," he said. "I told her how we cook together sometimes, and how we talk about your classes."
"You do not mind that we talk so much about my classes?" she asked, releasing this was a chance to check in. Alcohol had loosened lips. "I know it has been a long time since you were a student."
"No," he said. "It's interesting. If you're interested, I'm interested. Well, except for the statistics stuff."
"I will be glad when that class is over," she said with a smirk.
"Me too," he said, matching her smile.
"Do you miss talking about work with me?" she asked. She remembered all those late nights in the squadroom, eating greasy take out, and bouncing ideas off of each other.
"No," he said honestly. "Even when we worked together, we always found non-work stuff to talk about."
"You always did have an interest in my personal life," she said with a smile. Nostalgia, now tasted more sweet, than bitter. Time healed.
"That interest was mutual," he declared.
"Not equally so," came her reply.
"I like what we do now," he said after a few seconds. "The traveling, the movie nights, and all the other stuff we do. I wouldn't trade that for the world. I want to build this life with you."
"Do you still miss working with me?" she asked, as they got closer and closer to her apartment.
In those early months, after they returned from Israel, he had expressed this often. Sometimes, as he left her in bed, while he went out to fight monsters, it was said with a sigh. Sometimes, it was during a fight, seemingly about something else, that those words were said with anger. Sometimes, it was as the memories flowed, and nostalgia laced their words, that he said it with a smile. He said it less now, maybe the feeling had passed.
"Yeah," he said, darting his eyes out the window. "But this is better. What we have is a good. Do you think it's good?"
"I think it is very good," she said with a smile. "I love you."
"I love you too," he said, as he turned to look at her. A smile resting on his face. An all knowing smile, things would have never been this good, if they tried to balance this and their jobs.
"We are nearly home," Ziva said. Technically, it was only her home, but he spent nine nights out of ten there. It felt like his home too. "Are you still hungry?"
When they had slipped out of Abby's party, he had whined that he was hungry, despite having had quite a few of the snacks that were provided. She had patted his stomach, and said it was the beer talking.
"I'll grab something at home," he said. He didn't mean his apartment, he meant hers.
"Okay," Ziva said, glad his stomach had stopped talking, as she had no interest in braving a fast food drive-through in the wee hours.
"With Ellie, it's not like it was with you," he declared, as the turned the corner of Ziva's block.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"You know," he said, her mouth suddenly dry. "There was always this sort of flirty tension, I guess. There was always something a spark. It was kinda like that in the past, with other female partners. With you especially, but with Ellie it's like having a little sister on the field."
"You do not have a sister," she said.
"No," Tony said softly. "But it's like having Abby on the field, I like her and wanna keep her safe, but that's it. Plus, she's about as green as McGee was. I miss having a partner who could take the lead."
"I know," Ziva said softly, as the pulled into her parking garage, and slid into her parking spot. "When I was talking to her, she said she felt she had big boots to fill."
"Yeah," he murmured. "Something like that. You left quite a hole."
"Is she not filling them?" Ziva asked.
"She is," Tony said softly. "But you did leave a lasting impression."
"She asked me, if it is true that I once killed a man with a credit card," Ziva muttered.
"I wondered who told her that," he said in an exaggerated voice.
"Do you talk about me to her often?" she asked. She already knew about the conversation about their relationship, but that had context, trying to help Ellie with her marriage. Did Tony, kvetch about her in the squadroom, like men in one of those sitcoms, he was always trying to show her?
"Sometimes," he said. "I mean sometimes, she overhears me telling McGoo what's happening with you. I always tell him to text you himself, I don't want you guys to lose touch."
She wondered if Tim's how are you? texts were a result of those conversations.
"Thank you," she said softly. "It's not that I do not want you to talk about me. It is just things are so new, and-"
"I'm not one of those guys, who whines about his girl to his colleagues," he interrupted. "But you are a part of my life, and I like to talk about you. Tim talks about Delilah all the time, and Jimmy talks about Breena, I talk about you like that. I know it's weird because you used to work with us."
"I know," she said. "You are right, it is an adjustment."
"Yeah," he said.
"What else do you talk to Ellie about?" she asked, as she unclicked her seatbelt.
"She did ask why you left," he said, as he unclicked his seatbelt. Ziva felt a stone in her stomach, how much had been shared? "She thought you left because we got together. I told her it was for personal reasons, and that us getting together had nothing to do with it. I mean the timeline is a bit fuzzy, but correlation does not imply causation."
"Seems like you have learnt something from helping me study for my midterm," Ziva said, as she slipped out of the car.
He smiled at the memory. A lazy Sunday, him half-watching the ball game, and her frantically scribbling notes. He had offered to help, and turned her practice exam into a quiz show. How she'd laughed at his silly voice, and made-up prizes, when she got questions right.
"And they say you can't teach an old dog, new tricks," he uttered, as they met each other again in front of her car. Ziva pressed the fob, and her car locked with the familiar sound. He reached across for her hand, and wrapped it in his. "I just wanted to reassure her, that she doesn't have to live up to your reputation. She's her own agent."
"She did ask me to teach her some Krav Maga," Ziva said, as they stood in front of the elevator. His hand rested on her hips, admiring the black jeans that made her look amazing, but were a pain to get off. "Breena overhead that too, and would also like to learn. I was thinking maybe, in the summer, when my course load it a little bit lighter."
"What would Breena need Krav Maga for?" he asked, as the elevator opened, and swallowed them up. "Zombies?"
She erupted into laughter. Her curls bouncing. She leaned forward, pressing into him.
"I think she just wants to exert some control," Ziva said, as the laughter subsided. "So much is out of her control at the moment."
Tony nodded. How he hoped for good news on the baby Palmer project, however it came to fruition.
"I suppose so," he whispered. "Ellie's already quite the fighter, she has three older brothers."
"Wow," Ziva said.
"Her parents are still together too," he said. "She's so normal."
He took stock of their little group. Ellie was the most normal, two parents still together, and both alive. She'd had, what seemed to be a happy stable childhood. No dead Dad like Delilah, or difficult parental divorce like Breena. Ellie was a paragon of normal. In terms of family life anyway.
"What do you mean?" she asked, as they reached her floor. They walked out of the elevator, hand in hand.
"She doesn't look to Gibbs' like we all did," he said. "I mean she respects him, and looks to him like a mentor. But it's different. There less baggage."
"She doesn't look to him like a father figure," Ziva said quickly. She'd been talking to her therapist about this, a lot. "Like we all did."
Gibbs had been given such a tough mission, one that was mostly unknown to him, to undo all the hurt and pain, that Senior, Eli David, and Admiral McGee had inflicted on their offspring.
"Yeah," he said, as he put his copy of her key, into the door. They were home. It felt good to be home.
"That is good, no?" she asked. Ziva was not sure if she was willing to share her father figure anymore that she already did.
"Well yeah," he said, as they shrugged off their jackets. "Nobody needs our issues. Gibbs definitely has his plate full with all of ours."
"I thought you and your father were doing well," Ziva said. She liked Senior, but she knew that beneath the newly revived father-son relationship, there was a lot of hurt. Not all hurts could be healed.
"We are," he replied, as he bent his knee to take off his shoes. "It doesn't change the past though."
"No," she said blinking quickly.
"Do you wish things had been different?" he asked, as they stood in front of each other, her with one boot on, and one boot off. She was standing on tiptoes to make up for the height difference in the boots. "Do you wish, you'd grown up in one of those normal families?"
All happy families are alike, all unhappy families were unhappy in their own way.
"I suspect Ellie's family has its dysfunctions," she said, as she unzipped her boot. "Remember when we thought Tim had come from one of those happy families."
Since, she had given up the badge, she seldom call McGee by his last name. It sounded so sweet when she called him Tim. Almost like unlocking another level of friendship.
"Yeah," he said.
Once upon a time, they had all be less entangled in each others lives, and from a distance it looked like McGee had been raised in the Navy Brat edition of the picket fence life. It was during that Gibbsless summer, that they learnt otherwise. The younger man had spent weeks in a dark mood, and not revealed why. It had been Ziva who got it out of him, his mother had left his father, for a real estate agent. Apparently, it had been brewing for long time, but his mother had wanted to wait until Sarah graduate high school. Tim, was stewing in guilt because he was glad that his mother had left. McGee had felt unable to talk about it, because his friends seemed to have much worse childhoods. Ziva of course, had assured him that his problems were just as valid, and Tony had gotten the younger man sufficiently intoxicated, patted him on the back and said it would all be okay.
"I think what matters," she said as she led him to the bedroom. "Is how you rebuild, after things have been knocked down."
"Yeah," he said, "You're right."
"I do like Ellie," Ziva said, as she pulled her top off over her head.
"Good," he said, unbuttoning his shirt, his sloppy fingers missing buttons. "It's good."
"Did you think I would not?" she asked.
"No," he said softly. "I thought it might be a bit awkward."
The Ziva of a few years ago, had never done well, with other female agents. There was a jealousy that flared up.
"It is not," she said, as she undid her jeans. They were so tight, that left indents in her flesh. He dropped his pants to the floor. His belt clanged as it hit the ground. "I like her, very much."
"Are you tired?" he asked. He no longer wanted food, but he felt another hunger low in his stomach.
"No," came her reply, very quickly.
She smiled, her teeth sinking into her lip. He smiled too. There would be no more talking. The two of them were after all, very good at other ways of communicating.
A/N: I don't own a thing.
I really do think that Ziva would have liked Ellie. I wanted to write, the Ellie talking to Tony chapter, but I don't have enough of a feel of Ellie to write her.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.