Tony smiled, as he watched the scene in front of him. They were in the very North of Italy, in a tiny town that probably only saw tourists, when they were lost. Senior had grass stains on his expensive linen suit, and Schmeil wore a very unfashionable bucket hat, killing some of his style cred.
"This is the last place where DiNozzo's of your line are recorded," Schmeil continued, as they walked through the quaint little town. "Before the records at Ellis Island."
Tony smiled again. Ziva had planned this all for him. He knew about the trip to Italy, but had not known about the genealogy Ziva had been researching, in the meantime. Senior had been a last minute addition to their little trip, as he was still bummed about his break up.
"This is where we come from Junior," Senior declared, as Schmeil looked something up on his phone. "This is the motherland."
And, it turned out that the Italian DiNozzo's hadn't really done much before they left for The Promised Land. They had been poor farmers, who boarded a coffin ship, filled on dreams, and starving in the steerage class. Like so many new Americans at the time, they had suffered in the cramped tenements of New York, slowly generation by generation, building a better legacy. It was not a linear ascent, but rather a game of snakes and ladders. Sometimes you're ahead. Sometimes you're behind. Tony liked to think he served the DiNozzo name well.
Senior and Schmeil wandered off toward a World War Two memorial on the other side of the square. It was on Schmeil's instance. For a small man, he was remarkably persuasive. Tony watched as the two older men, walked further and further into the distance.
"Thank you for this," he said, as he took her hand, wrapping his fingers in hers.
Enjoying the quiet time. It had been a long drive, and a long train journey before that, with Schmeil dominating the conversation. It had been months since Schmeil seen his Ziva, and a long time since she had spoken Hebrew. In this little stolen moment, Tony was glad to have Ziva all to himself.
"Schmeil did most of the research," she said. Schmeil had presented Senior with a little book of everything he had found. Senior had been so excited by it during the train journey. Flipping through it, to the white noise of the Hebrew. Tony, having not slept well due to jet lag, had dozed on and off, using Ziva's shoulder as a pillow. "It has been a busy few months, and retirement does not sit well with him."
"This is amazing," he said again. "Best birthday, I've had in years."
His last birthday, had been one they'd spent in Israel. It had started well, Ziva taking him to a classic film festival, and them watching Casablanca. It had ended with a shootout, and in Mossad's MTAC assuring Gibbs and McGee they were fine. Still, not his worst birthday, and he had told Ziva as much.
"You are not disappointed?" Ziva asked, looking up at him, with her huge sunglasses, and sunhat. She was wearing that summer dress he liked. The one that seemed to make an appearance every weekend between June and September. The one he could see down the top.
"Disappointed," he echoed, his voice telling her that he was quite the opposite. "I'm in Italy. My Dad's happier than he's been in weeks. Schmeil's here. It's been months since I've seen the man of steel. We're Under the Tuscan sun, baby."
Technically they were not in Tuscany, but she didn't bother to correct him. She enjoyed his joy.
"Well yes," she said, as they walked toward the two old men. Maybe, looking after two Senior citizens was practice for kids. They were always getting into stuff. They had certainly complained on the car ride, before both dozing off. "But, you and your father have all these stories about the DiNozzo's, and they do not seem quite true."
"No," Tony said. He had always sort of known, deep down, that DiNozzo family history was myths and legends than truth. "But, they are just stories. Besides, maybe that's part of the DiNozzo legend we left Italy, came to America with nothing and really made something of ourselves. That's the story I hope to tell our kids one day."
Her eyes lit up. Not my kids, but our kids. He seemed to conjure them up from nowhere. So easily. Was this the same man, who had so been scared of the Vance children, little over a year ago?
"I'll let your family be all the ones with the crazy stories," Tony continued. "How exactly, will we describe your father?"
She stopped. Tony's words leaving her stunned, and silent.
"You okay," he asked, tugging on her hand. He scanned the square for Senior and Schmeil, who'd wandered off.
"Yes," she said, as she started walking again. "I think I just I realised something."
A breakthrough, her therapist would call it.
"What have you realised?" he asked. Curiosity would kill this cat.
"I get to control the story," she said softly. "When we have children, we will get to control the stories we tell."
"I don't get it," he replied. Her mind ran far deeper than his, something he was forever in awe of.
"When we have children, if they ask about my family, I will get to control what I tell them," she said. "I mean yes, you will know some of the truth, but I will not have to worry about some of the harder things, until the children are old enough to understand."
The others would know parts of the stories Ziva would modify, but they would respect their choices, he hoped.
"By the time we have kids, they'll have those little microchips they put in peoples heads," he said. She frowned. "No, I'm serious, wasn't that what McComputerGenius and Little Miss NSA were going on about, when we all went out for dinner."
A few days before they had flown out to Italy, they had gone out for a pre-birthday dinner with Abby, McGee, Ducky, Ellie, Palmer and Breena. Ellie's husband had been invited, but ended up stuck at work. Both Tony and Ziva had noticed Breena was not drinking, claiming she was the one who was driving. They both hoped that, it was a good sign. Maybe, this time next year there would be a mini autopsy gremlin.
"I do not think that's what he meant," Ziva said.
"Tell me, did you understand a word of what him and Ellie were talking about?" he asked.
"No," Ziva admitted, shaking her head for emphasis. "But they were definitely not talking about putting microchips in people's heads."
"No," he echoed. "We were talking about the future DiNozzo's we're going to create. The world will be so much better for it."
"Yes," Ziva said. "I will not lie to them, but I am glad I suppose, that I can control the story. If our kids ask about my father, I can say that he was a man who worked very hard, because he had a duty to his country. They will not have to face waiting for him, and being disappointed by him themselves. He will never question their loyalty."
He swallowed thickly. This was heavy conversation for the warm afternoon weather. He got goosebumps under his linen shirt.
"I never really thought about it, like that," he admitted. "And that's certainly one way to describe your father."
"It is likely, he would have retired, if he had not died," Ziva continued. "So maybe, it would have never been an issue."
Maybe she would have had children, who saw their grandfather as a loving man, with a funny accent. He always claimed that if he had been relieved of his duty, he would have been a family man. Ziva, of course doubted it would have ever been simple. Men like Eli David did not retire.
"By force or choice?" he asked.
"He would have claimed it was a choice," Ziva said. Eli always knew how to twist the situation. "But that is not how it happened. It is neither here, nor there."
"No," he said. "You know I worry about that with Dad sometimes."
"Your father, will never fully retire," Ziva said. "He will always chase his next deal, like that Ocean's Eleven movie. It is in his blood."
He was very proud of her for the movie reference.
"I know that," Tony said, his voice cracking. "It's just, when we have kids, I worry about him repeating the cycle. I mean it'll be different because he won't be their parent, so we can protect them. I just can't help wondering, what if he fills them with all these promises and ideas, and never pulls through. Like he did with me."
"We will manage that," she said softly. "If it happens."
"If it happens?" he asked.
"He has not let down on promises lately," Ziva said.
So far Senior paid his rent on time, into an account which Ziva kept a day to day eye on. Tony had access of course, but he left it to Ziva. Tony hadn't been chased for any of his father's utility bills, nor had he been asked for money to pay them. Things were looking good, but time would tell.
A leopard doesn't change their spots. Not this leopard anyway.
"You do believe me, when I tell you about what he was like when I was kid, right?" Tony asked. Trying to keep his voice down. He had to know if Ziva got it. Senior and Schmeil were on the other side of a square, sitting down outside of a cafe. "I know he's this charming old man now, but he used to let me down all the time."
Her eyes started to moisten. The pain in his voice was too much.
"Of course, I believe you," she said softly. Her hand on his forearm. "But, he seems like he wants to change. Maybe, he will."
"Maybe," he said, more to quash the fight, than because he believed. He wasn't counting on it. He could never count on his Dad. History tended to repeat itself.
He wondered, how this conversation would be going if it was about her father, not his.
"And if he does not, then I will stand with you," Ziva said. Her voice firm, like she used to be in interrogation. "If we have to work out strategies for managing that relationship. It will be hard, but it will be important."
She was using her therapy words again. It was a joke they had, even though most of what she said was right. It was about managing relationships, and not letting the past impact the future.
"What?" he asked.
"Do you really think, I would standby, if someone tried to hurt you?" she asked, pulling her sunglasses off, so he could see her eyes. She was dead serious. He had only seen her like this a handful of times.
She was being so protective.
"I will always have your back," she said maintaining eye contact. "I will not let somebody come between us. If something threatens us, I will fight. I will fight for us."
There was anger in her voice. Passion. And love. So much love.
"We will fight it," he clarified. We. Us. They were in any fight together.
It was is against the world, they had told each other so many times.
"Yes," Ziva said. "But, if for some reason you cannot fight, I will fight harder. For both of us."
He stood dumbfounded for a moment. She stood on her tippy toes and put her hands over his face. Centering him. Nothing else mattered right now, they were just in their little bubble.
"I love you," he murmured. Glad, he had sunglasses on, because his eyes were glassy. She didn't need to see that. "You don't even know how much."
"I love you, too," she replied. A huge bright smile on her face. "So very much."
His phone vibrated, a text from Senior.
Hurry up. Schmeil wants gelato.
He handed his phone to Ziva. She smiled, and let a half-laugh. She was the only one who had Euro coins in her purse, and most of these small village shops would not take card, especially a foreign card.
"Schmeil, is supposed to be avoiding dairy," she declared. "It affects one his medications."
Age had caught up with Schmeil, very quickly after he had formally retired. The old man often joked, that if he was shaken, he might rattle.
This was definitely practice for having kids, Tony decided, as Senior offered him a big wave from across the square.
"Please tell me, we are not traveling with them the whole week," he said, with gritted teeth, as he waved back at the two old men. "I don't think I could take it. It's worse than traveling with McGee."
Ziva laughed again. A hearty laugh. He laughed too.
"I love Schmeil, but he is a terrible traveler," Ziva said, as the laughter faded out. "Both him and your father are going down to Rome on Thursday. We will have four days, all to ourselves. We are going down to Venice, remember."
"Thank god," he declared, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close. "The Odd Couple might kill the mood on the romantic gondola ride, I have planned."
He smiled. She smiled. He thought of the ring, stowed in his spare pair of shoes. The only place he knew Ziva would not go through, as she was the type of hang up her mans clothes.
He thought of the botched proposal the month before in the restaurant. He thought of all the proposal ideas he and Senior had listed on a quiet Sunday afternoon, in an attempt to be closer. He made a decision, she would have that ring on her finger, where it was supposed to be, before they flew home. He couldn't wait to start the rest of his life with her.
Then Ziva's phone vibrated killing the moment. She pulled it out and sighed. Schmeil really wanted the gelato.
A/N: I don't own a thing.
The next chapter is the big one.
Thanks for the love, and support. I know updates have slowed down. I know that this story is a bit of a mess, but everyone's reviews have been amazingly encouraging. I will reply to the review soon.