Tony smiled, as he looked around the sunroom at the vineyard. It was a Saturday night, the eve of his wedding. They had decided to make a weekend of the wedding, as the actual ceremony fell on a Sunday afternoon, as per Jewish laws. All of their guests, were staying in the BnB on the vineyard Saturday through to Sunday. The happy couple were only staying until Monday, opting to take a longer honeymoon in the spring, when Ziva had a break during classes.

Officially, they were having a rehearsal dinner on the warm Saturday night, though there was little discussion of the actual ceremony. Instead, Tony and Ziva were surrounded by nearly twenty of their favourite people, celebrating this new journey. Food had been shared. Wine had been drunk. Stories had been told. The night had been long, and joyful.

"This time tomorrow we'll be married," Tony whispered, leaning over to be closer to her. She smelt like cocoa-butter and garlic from their dinner.

They were so close. They were almost there.

Schmeil was sitting with baby Tori on his knee. The oldest person they knew with the youngest. The other guests watched, as Jimmy snapped a picture. Tori, now seven months old, a chubby almost tolder, but had fallen asleep in Schmeil's arms.

"We will," Ziva said, cupping her hand on his face. Her engagement ring shone in the candlelight.

Tim and Delilah were sitting at the other end of the table, completely engrossed in one another. It had been three months since Delilah had come back from her secondment. Things had been difficult at first, with the two of them learning to be around each other again. Still, time proved to be the great healer, and Tony had no doubt that they would be dancing at the Fielding-McGee wedding next year. He had even offered to help Tim scout the perfect ring.

"Are you nervous?" Tony asked.

They only had a few more moments. The other guests had started to retire. Ducky had already gone to sleep. Leyla had taken Amira to bed. Breena gingerly took little Tori from Schmeil's lap, and the Palmers waved goodbye to the group, walking toward the door. Jimmy's hand on the small of Brenna's back, while Breena held Tori to her hip.

That would be them one day, Tony thought. Willing it into the universe.

"No," Ziva said shaking her head for emphasis. She was wine tipsy. "Are you?"

Gibbs, Schmeil and Senior stood up, and clinked glasses. One last nightcap Senior had declared. Schmeil clapped his hands and said L'Chaim. Toasts were exchanged. Laughter shared.

"No," he said.

Abby and Ellie stood up and motioned to Ziva, before erupting into giggles. Their wedding was a mix of traditions, and one that they had decided to keep, was that the two of them would be seperated the night before the wedding, with Abby, Ellie and Ziva getting ready together the next day. Ziva had not opted for bridesmaids, but Ellie and Abby had stepped up anyway.

"I am excited," Ziva whispered softly, as she started to get up. Tony tugged at her wrist. Wanting just a few more moments. It had been months since they had slept separately. "Very excited."

He leaned up, and kissed Ziva on the lips. A peck. A promise.

"Save the kissing for the big day, kids," Senior hollered from the other end of the room.

Ziva broke off the kiss. Offered him a smile, and started to get up. Giving him a tiny peck, before walking away.

He watched as Abby, Ellie and Ziva walked out of the sunroom, closing the door behind them.

Gibbs and Schmeil quickly offered their goodbyes. Schmeil shook Tony's hand, before wrapping him a tight hug. Squeezing Tony tight. Gibbs offered a curt wave and followed Schmiel out of the room.

"We better hit the hay, Dad," Tony declared.

Instead Senior sat down next to his son, and patted him on the knee.

"I never thought I'd see this day," Senior mumumred.

"I know," Tony replied. "Took me a while. Guess, I was just waiting for the right person."

"I always knew you'd get married Junior," Senior said, letting out a breath. "I wasn't always sure if I'd be invited."

Tony looked down at his shoes. The truth stung.

"I dunno," Tony said. "But that doesn't matter now, it's water under the bridge. I'm glad you're here. So is Ziva."

Senior nodded. Things were moving forward. They were mending fences.

"Any fatherly advice?" Tony asked. "What's happening tomorrow is kinda a big deal."

"I'd say don't make my mistakes," Senior said. "But, I know you won't."

"I hope not," Tony said.

We won't make our parents mistakes, he and Ziva had said confidently in the pre-marital counselling. The lines of communication would be kept open.

"I know you won't," Senior repeated. "Parents always want their kids to be better than them, and you are. I'm proud of you."

You are a good man, Ziva had said. How many times had she said that too him. She had such faith in him.

"Also make sure you eat," Senior started. "You don't want your stomach growling, while you're saying your vows."

"You speaking from experience?" Tony asked. The buzz of the beer had gone away, and Tony felt suddenly sober. In less than twenty-four hours he'd be married. Tony DiNozzo, of all the people in the world would be married.

"Yep," Senior replied. "Denise and I were on shaky ground before we walked down the aisle, the extra voice at the aisle didn't help. Don't think we lasted beyond the honeymoon."

Tony couldn't remember where Denise fit in the list of wives. Had he even met Jeanie, he was not sure.

"Tomorrow's a big day," Senior declared letting out a breath. "Goodnight Junior."

"Night Dad," Tony replied.

Ziva David had never been the little girl who planned her wedding. Even as a child she had bigger things to contend with; her parents crumbling marriage, her father's long absences, and the growing threat in the streets. She was not even nine when Saddam Hussein sent his rockets, gift wrapped for Tel Aviv. She remembered her mother holding her tight, the night those fell.

Then quite unexpectedly she became an adult, where she found herself living a completely different life than she could have ever imagined, she had not believed she would be the type to marry. She had never dreamed of dressing like a princess, not fretted over colour schemes. Perhaps, if she were less religious she might have even gone down to city hall, and got married her cargo pants. Perhaps the Ziva of a few years ago might have done, no doubt heading off to marry the wrong man.

Still, as she walked toward the room set aside for yichud. The wedding had been a mix of her traditions and his. Tony's clammy hand was clasped around hers. She thought of all the moments of the wedding she would remember.

The early morning walk with Schmeil, where they talked about who would be missing, and joyus this very occasion was, both promising not to forget that.

The hug with Gibbs, as they reached the chuppah, how he'd leaned into her ear and whispered proud of ya, kid. All she had ever wanted was for her father to be proud of her.

The smiling faces of Abby, McGee, Jimmy and Ellie as they held the chuppah. Ziva's body had felt warm with all the love. They were so loved. Love was given so freely.

She thought of how Tony's eyes had welled up as he said his words had shook, and she knew they had been said with love. She too had felt a tear slip down her face, as she promised him forever.

She remembered Schmeil's delightful little squeal as they broke the glass. Little Tori had joined him in declaring the joy with a shriek, Amira had blown the bubbles they had given her to occupy her. There was already so much joy, and they still had the reception to go.

"We're married," Tony murmured, as they stepped into the room. Closing the door behind them. Their first moments as husband and wife, would be private.

There they stood, mere meters from the threshold. Facing each other. His hands found their natural place at her waist, and she leaned into him. Pulling him close. His shirt might wrinkle, and she knew some of curls had fallen loose, but she did not care. They still had photographs to take, but none of it mattered.

"Yes, we are," Ziva purred.

Logistically, little would be changing. Ziva had opted not to go through the hassle of changing her name, mostly because of the bureaucracy involved, but also because she was the last one left. The two of them already lived together, so had requested no gifts, as they had quite enough plates between them. Yet, oddly enough things just felt different.

They were married. Husband a wife. For better, and for worse.

"Who'd have thought," Tony uttered. She leaned over resting her head on his chest. His heartbeat providing a soothing rhythm.

She smiled thinking of the vows they had made. Not just today, but long ago. In sickness and in health. For richer for poorer. Til death do them part.

"It took us long enough, no?" Ziva said softly. Feeling her breath vibrate off his chest.

A decade of friendship. Eight of those as partners. Just over two years of dating. A long-enough engagement. It was all gravy now.

"What do we do now?" Tony asked, softly. "I'll have my nights and weekends free."

Ziva looked up at him. He had carried most of the weight in wedding planning, taking more of an interest in colour schemes, and having more of a 'vision' of their big day. With his not-so-new job at Fletc, he also had more free time, unlike Ziva who carrying a heavy course load, and two part-time jobs. She had also done a internship over the summer, leaving Tony to choose between ivory and eggshell napkins.

"We did just put an offer, on that house," she reminded him.

They had almost signed for another year on their lease, deciding a house could wait. After all, they had their whole lives. Then Jimmy and Breena had brought a house, and the seed had been watered. Quickly growing out of control, how could they possibly put house ownership on hold for another year, after all they had the downpayment just sitting there.

Quickly, the two of them had started looking at real-estate listings in between wedding stuff. Jimmy referred his realtor, and they ended up looking at only a handful of houses before falling in was a modest colonial, similar to many houses in the state. It had three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, and a finished basement. It was an extra seven hundred square feet than the apartment, but felt glacial. They would have a closet each. They would have a guest bedroom, until they filled the place with a kids.

"Yeah," Tony said with a satisfied smile. He had found now that he worked normal hours, that he did not enjoy being idle. "And its needs a bit of work."

Almost all of the work was cosmetic. Every room needed a fresh coat of paint, and Tony had visions of turning the daylight basement into a movie room.

"Let's not think of that," Ziva hummed. "Let's just take a moment. I am excited for the rest of our lives, but I do not want to forget this moment."

Ziva was on track to graduate the following June, and she was hoping to get a job at the organisation she had interned at, which helped refugee and vulnerable migrant women settle in America. It gave them a place to start. Ziva had also stopped using birth control, and they were planning to officially start trying for a baby, in the new year. They had dreams of toddler hands, and little curls. She hoped such a dream would become reality without too much heartbreak.

"Me too," he whispered, placing a quick kiss on her forehead. "I love you."

Love is patient. Love is kind.

"I love you," Ziva whispered.

A knock at the door disturbed their quiet moment. Yichud was over.

"DiNozozo's let's party," Schmeil called from the otherside of the door.

Tony ran his hand over his face, trying to banish the tiredness, which was a permanent companion. Once upon a time, he had worked eighty hour weeks, with odd hours, but he had never been as tired as he was now. Trying to manage, a house, a first grader, and a toddler was exhausting. Yet, he and Ziva kept finding a way to add to it. Ziva was doing her masters degree online, and they had a serious conversation about getting a dog, the weekend before.

Tony looked into the oven, to determine if dinner was done. It was some sort of pasta bake, made over the weekend then frozen, it was an attempt by Ziva to hide vegetables among cheese and pasta. Still, Tali at five and a half, had inherited her parents investigative skills, and could find the smallest slither of zucchini among the thickest clump of cheese and pasta.

"Daddy," Talia whined from the table, from the otherside of the kitchen. She was sitting on the bench behind the table, colouring in a Rosh Hashanah picture, she had acquired from the Jewish after school care she went to. "I'm hungry."

"Me too," Tony replied. His stomach growled for emphasis. He looked at the clock on the oven, Ziva would be home any moment. Dinner would be done in about two minutes.

"Sammy's got his food," Talia continued getting up from her seat and standing in front of her little brother. She reached across, and snuck a peace of cubed cheese from his segmented toddler plate.

Ziva had been insistent on adding the 'a' to Tali's name when they named her. To make it sound more American, she had said in the haze of the delivery room. Also, as an effort to save her from her namesakes fate. It did not matter anyway, because both her parents called her Tali.

Samuel was sitting in his high chair. Playing with the food on his plate. His chubby fingers wrapped around the carrot stick. Samuel was a mere days away from his second birthday, having been born just a few days after Tony and Ziva's fifth anniversary. Tony proclaimed it to be the best present ever. Once, Ziva had recovered from the emergency c-section, and Sammy's condition had stabilized, she had agreed. Despite, the scary birth, with Sammy's heart stopping twice. The sweet child was now the picture of good health.

Sammy, was their quiet child to Tali's loudness and extraversion. Sammy with his dark curls and serious expressions, was their much wanted second child, the one they did not think they would have after another miscarriage when Tali was eighteen months old. Sammy, when he had finally arrived, had completed their family.

Sammy knowing that he was being talked about started to make noise. Part bable. Part sentence.

Right on cue, the door from the back porch opened, and Ziva stepped through the door. Her work backpack on her shoulder. Car keys jangling in her hand.

"Ima," Tali squealed, forgetting all about her hunger for a second.

Currently, they had a system for managing the house. Tony started work earlier in order to do the after school pick up, while Ziva started work later to do the drop off. Their modest little house, was organised chaos on a good day, and sheer horror on a bad one. The perps Tony used to deal with seemed mild, compared to the kids when they were hungry or tired.

"Moteks," Ziva called. Slipping her backpack off, and walking toward her children with open arms.

She picked Sammy out of his highchair and hitched on her hip. Tali reached up, and hugged her mother, her dirty hands leaving marks on Ziva's white blouse. It was a rookie mistake, wearing light colours with the kids around.

Tony smiled, while he watched the scene from the otherside of the kitchen island.

The oven timer dinged. The dishwasher hummed. The dryer buzzed. A basket of clean laundry sat on the armchair next to the piano, it remained unsorted. This their was life.

Ziva sent Tali to wash her hands, and placed a clingy Sammy back in his chair.

She grabbed the plates, as Tony put the dish on a butchers block. He scanned the kitchen for slotted spoon, remembered it was in the dishwasher and reached for the ladle instead.

"Happy anniversary," he whispered, as Ziva moved closer.

Tali was singing as she washed her hands in the half-bathroom by the back-porch. The door was ajar. Tali had not inherited her namesakes voice. The disney song she was singing, from the latest kids movie, burned Tony's ears. They had heard it thrice-daily since the movie came out.

"I saw the flowers," she said, looking across to the coffee table in the living room, where the vase of fresh flowers sat. Tony wondered how long it would be, before they ended up on the floor. "Thank you."

Seven years. It had been seven years since they had tied the knot, with all their family cheering. Their family had contracted and expanded since then.

Schmeil had passed away peacefully, with Ziva by his side to say her final goodbyes, mere days after finding out they were finally pregnant with Tali, and only a few short weeks after Ziva graduated college.

Ducky had come dangerously close, and twice now the family had gathered ready to say goodbye, but so far the old man hung on.

Jimmy and Breena had skirted dangerously close to separation, with Jimmy spending a couple of nights in the DiNozzo basement. The couple had fallen victim, to all of the fights couples had and in quick sucession; money, in-laws and kids. Still, after nearly a year of marriage counselling they seemed to be on the right track. Everyone hoped they had weathered the storm.

Delilah and McGee had married, two summers after Tony and Ziva, and had welcomed a son Jack five months later, with Delilah almost dying during the delivery.

Ellie had remarried over the summer, finding love with another NCIS agent, and they now worked out of the New Orleans office. Ellie had also recently announced she was pregnant, much to her joy.

Leyla had brought a house, gotten her Masters degree, and her organisation was doing well. Amira was a growing teenager, with a talent for words and college plans.

Abby had brought a duplex, and was also the besotted owner of a dog named Spider. She rented the other half of her duplex out to families, who had just come out of homelessness, at a rent that was far less than market. She was also seeing a kind man, she had met at the dog park.

Gibbs had retired, and was as close to happy as a grumpy old man like him would be.

Senior, was a doting grandfather trying to make up for past mistakes. He came over at least once a week, and would be babysitting the following Saturday so Tony and Ziva could celebrate their anniversary in style.

"I saw the wine," Tony muttered. They did not usually drink on a school night, but today was an exception. "We should toast."

Tali rushed down the hall into the kitchen.

"I'm hungry," she whined. Sammy, on cue also started to squeal.

"Ima," he cried out.

Ziva smiled, and moved to the seat next to her son. He fought to get out of his highchair, and Ziva picked him out, sitting him on her lap. She fed him a carrot stick from his plate.

Tali moved to her seat. Eventually, all the plates were deposited on the table, with Tali eagerly digging in.

Tony finally returned to the table, with the wine and two glasses. He poured the two glasses, listening as Tali recounted her day with much detail. Her parents half-listened, knowing they would not get word in edgewise even if they did.

Tony held his glass up, and Ziva faced him with a smile. Their glasses clinked.

"Happy anniversary," Ziva declared, with a smile on her face.

They had said this seven times now, and the words never got old. The first time had been, at the vineyard where they had married. They were there on their 'babymoon' with the pregnancy not yet visible. The second anniversary, had been spent trying to calm a colicy Tali. Their third had resulted in the short-lived pregnancy between Tali and Sammy. Their fourth had been spent with a grizzly Tali in a hotel room, by the beach. Their fifth, had been spent with Ziva trying to induce labour to evacuate Sammy. The sixth, had been spent with two sick kids, and Tony promising Ziva a childfree weekend away, which had yet to happen.

"To many more," Tony replied, leaning in for a kiss. Ziva smiled and kissed him.

"Gross," Tali declared, though neither of her parents were sure if it was because of the kissing or because of the tiny slither of spinach she has found in her pasta bake.

Tony and Ziva broke apart from their kiss, and started to laugh.

A/N: I don't own a thing. I wish I did.

Well folks, that's a wrap. Thanks so much for all of the love. I'm always amazed when I see reviews, and favourites on this fic. I saw it on twitter, the other day. Thanks so much. Thank you friends, whether you left one review or one on almost every chapter. I have never received so many reviews before. I have also never written so much. It's been such a period of growth for me, as a writer. Thank you for the support.

Thank so much; JamacianTIVALover, Fred, Sue Dooley, sl_53211, DS2010, HippieChick81, ttiva, Allie, Celestrial Moon, Safara Bellamy, -carlota, misspatchesmom, ninjacom, Syrae, Tivahoneybears, rosali sobreira, Mandy-muis, B, Gabrielle Spaziano, kfink77, tyraleanne, Bkeh, zats, toyataylor160, krg11, licaro, niki. , tivarulesingreece, diana, and all the guest(s).

I'm not sure, when I'll write for this universe again. Hence, adding the little epilogue. I have a few ideas, but I'm not sure if people will still want to read them, especially as it's so far out of cannon. The main idea, I'm working through at the moment, is the summer where Schmeil dies and Ziva and Tony discover they are pregnant with Tali, but I'm not sure how that will turn out. I also have a couple of AU ideas, including one with Tony and Ziva having a baby while still working at NCIS and struggling with those days of early parenthood.

Also, I spend like zero time with children, so apologies for the inaccuracies with the kids. I also know, that Tim had twins on the show, but this fic is so out of cannon, so cannon smannon at this point.

Thanks again, it has been an incredible journey. I will miss talking to you all.