A/N: Thanks for all the feedback so far! :) Let me know what you think of this one.

Part II

When Senior had suggested that they upgrade to business class, Tony had scoffed at the idea. He'd flown across the Atlantic on more than one occasion in nothing more than the jump seat of a military aircraft. He didn't need a business class seat.

Tali might, Senior had offered.

And so Tony had agreed and sitting in the spacious cubicle with Tali nestled into his side, he couldn't help but admit that the extra space did make things just a little bit easier.

He used the in flight wireless to send a text to Senior.

Gotta admit, business class is better. Thank you.

Tony ran his fingers through his hair. Tali – Talia, he assumed – bore a striking resemblance to her mother. Not that he expected anything less. But it was more than just her smile and those irresistible curls. Tali was Ziva.

It was the way that she smiled and the way that she laughed and the way that she looked at him like he was the most important person in the world.

And yet, Senior was right. She was his, too. From the moment she had first walked through that door, he had known, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was his daughter. He didn't need Orli's assurance.

She had his eyes. She had his nose. And the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. That was all him. And the look she got on her face when everything in front of her was too much to bear. Well, that was Tony too.

The plane hit a spot of turbulence and Tali awoke with a start.

"Shh…It's okay, baby girl." He said. "It's just a bump."

"Bump?" she asked.

"Mhmm," He assured. "Like on the road." He tried to show her with his hands. He wasn't sure if she understood, but she smiled, giggled at him and began to settle down.

He dragged his hand up and down her back until she nestled back into his side and went back to sleep.

He didn't know if Ziva had taught her any English or if they only spoke Hebrew at home. She seemed to understand him when he spoke to her. Tony hoped that she knew what he meant when he told her that he loved her and that he was never going to miss another two years of her life like he'd missed the first two. He was never going to miss anything.

And that was when Tony realized that he wasn't afraid of being a single Dad.

He'd balanced chaos before. He'd made time for things that he didn't need to. He could certainly handle this. He could make time for the most important person in his life. What scared Tony DiNozzo was what Tali would be missing out on.

She needed Ziva.

She needed Ziva to ease her fears. She needed Ziva to make her strong – to help her understand, to make sure that she knew how to love. She needed her Mother and Tony needed her too.

Tali deserved to see with her very own eyes how much her parents loved her – how much they loved her together and how much their love of simply being together impacted everything they did.

It was raining in Paris when they arrived. And he wasn't sure if it were the weather or the reality of the situation that changed Tony's outlook on things.

Suddenly all of this seemed so fruitful and unrealistic.

Perhaps it was the way that that Paris glistened in a different way than it had the last time he had been there. When he and Ziva had been in Paris, he swore Paris had sparkled. Now, he was every building was shedding a tear.

Yes, she's dead. Gibb's words echoed in his mind. Orli had said that Tali had been the one pulled from the farmhouse and yet, she had no scratches on her, none of her clothes had soot on them.

He went through everything that Orli had said, everything they knew. Tali's room was in a different corridor, but he remembered the farmhouse. It wasn't large by any means. There was a distant stretch of two or three rooms on the north side of the house that Ziva had told him were for Eli's protection detail or assistants, but they were removed from the master bedroom. Ziva wouldn't have been so far away from Tali. That he was sure of.

It didn't add up. He knew Ziva, he did. He knew how she thought and how she acted. Something wasn't right.

Tali napped during their taxi ride from Charles de Gaule airport to the hotel. He held her tight to his side, terrified of the fact that she was in a moving vehicle without a car seat. Tony felt horribly inept. Did her stroller turn into a car seat? He had no idea.

Upon arrival, he carried his sleeping Tali into the hotel and quietly checked in at the front desk. His French was a little rusty but it seemed that they had been expecting him.

"Here is the room key." The man said in French. "Mrs. Ranier says you will only be here for one night. Is that correct?"

Tony nodded, though he had no idea what the man was referring to.

It seemed Ziva had a plan.

He slipped the key in his pocket and headed for the elevator. Tali had begun to stir and shift in his arms and so as he waited for the elevator to arrive, he smoothed her hair and fixed her jacket. He didn't want Ziva to think that he hadn't been taking care of their little girl.

And then, without even realizing it, he was walking down the hallway to her room. Room 510 was merely steps away from him and suddenly the world felt like it was spinning.

"You ready Tali," he whispered, slipping the key into the electronic lock. He pushed the door open.

He was about to set Tali down on the ground, assuming she would want to run to her mother when he realized the hotel room was empty.

He held onto Tali and shut the door behind them. It was as if the whole universe had collapsed. She was supposed to be there. She had to be.

His stomached plummeted and the hair on his back stood up. Tony turned from side to side. Were they being set up? What had he gotten their daughter into?

Reaching for the light, he took one more survey of the room and that was when he saw the envelope – propped up by pillows at the head of the bed. There was no writing on it and yet, he knew it was for him.

He set Tali down on the middle of the bed and reached for the envelope. The sight of Ziva's handwriting calmed his nerves. They weren't being set up. Ziva was sending them on a wild goose chase . . . But she was alive. And chase they would.

Daily Departure: Paris Gare Lyon Station 8:07am Arrival: Perpignan 1:28pm.

He flipped the note over and found more writing on the back.

An address in Perpignan, the small metropolitan area in the south of France.

"Okay, Tali," he spoke, handing her Kalev as he buckled her into the train provided child seat. "We're going on another adventure."

"Ima?" she asked. She hadn't stopped asking for Ziva since he mentioned her as the reason why they were on the plane.

He kissed her cheek. "Maybe, baby."

"Ima on train?" she asked.

Tony shook his head. "No." he said. "Ima's not on the train." He paused, not knowing what to say next. "Ima's lost." Explained Tony. "We have to find her."

Tali's eyes went wide. "Ima lost?" Asked the little girl.

Tony worried that he had upset her. He backtracked. "Like hide and go seek." He covered his eyes and made peak-a-boo noises. "We have to find her. It's a game."

She smiled. "Aba and Tali find Ima." She squealed.

"Yes," he agreed. "That's right, Talia. You and me are going to find Ima."

The conversation seemed to satisfy her and she settled into flipping through and coloring the book that they had picked up at the train station. Only a child of Ziva David would be able to concentrate and sit still at such a young age.

She fell asleep against him almost as soon as the train got up to full speed. Tony wasn't used to being tied to a specific seat. His legs begged for him to pace the aisle, to survey the other passengers and make sure the he weren't being followed. But he wasn't going to leave Tali and he wasn't going to pace the train with her.

So he sat and watched as the French countryside went by. He exchanged a few texts with McGee and updated him on the situation. McGee's well wishes calmed him for a few moments and a pang of guilt chimed within him. Maybe he should have let the Probie come. He could certainly use someone to talk to. Not that he didn't enjoy his conversations with Tali. He did. They were always the highlights of his day and her understanding was impressive for a child of her age. He'd done some online research to support his theory that she was a child prodigy. As if their kid could be anything but?

The train brought Tony and Talia to the center of Perpignan. The colorful historic buildings and garden lined canals guided the slowing locomotive toward the station. So this was where Ziva had been spending her time. He imagined her days spent strolling along the canals, quietly ducking into the museums or old Cathedrals.

The sun was shinning when the father and daughter emerged from the station. He pulled the awning over the stroller, giving Tali some shade. The address was only two blocks from the city center and so he set off, hopping that he wouldn't be too sweaty when he saw Ziva.

The streets became narrower as he got closer and closer to the address. Long and crowded boulevards gave way to residential streets with steep walk-ups. Soon, he and Tali were on a small alleyway lined with colorful doors and fire escapes adorned with drying laundry.

The fourteenth door was peach and he momentarily allowed himself to imagine the joy that he would feel when she opened the door before him and this became in fact a nightmare and not his reality.

But it wasn't Ziva who opened the door. And suddenly, in the millisecond before his heart sank with disappointment again, he was back in the pool of the Embasero hotel, Ziva's cousin or friend or former lover swimming laps.

He did not know the woman who answered the door, but from the look on her face, she knew him.

"Bonjour, Tony." She said. She smiled warmly and then bent down to greet Tali. "I've missed you little one. You've grown so much." She spoke with a French accent, but one that was learned and not innate.

"I…um…" Tony struggled with what to say.

"Come in, come in, please." She opened the door further and ushered them in. "I'm Angelina," she said. "Angie," And there was a knowing look on her face. "There's no need to panic. I've known Ziva since we were children. We reconnected when Talia was born. I'm the only one who knows where she is."

"Care to share?" Tony did not mean to be short with his newfound host, but this whole situation was a bit much for him.

Angie laughed. "You are just like Ziva described." She said. "I have always wondered how she fell in love with you but…it is clear looks had a part in it." Tony didn't have the bandwidth to process any of Angie's comments aside from the fact that it seemed everyone but him knew Ziva was in love with him.

Angie shut the door behind them and led father and daughter into her living room. "You have to stay here until we're sure you weren't followed." She said and suddenly Tony felt he had a small window into Ziva and Angie's relationship. Angie was suddenly all business. She drew the blinds on the small window in the living room and then checked the lock on the door that led to the fire escape.

Maybe she and Ziva were related.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Food?"

"Ziva's not in danger anymore. The threat has been eliminated."

Angie nodded and sat down on the couch. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I did two years in Mossad Special Forces, Tony." Her voice softened. "I know you wouldn't be here if it weren't safe, but I promised Ziva that I would not send you until the morning – until we were beyond sure."

Tony sighed and there was a pause. "So she's alive then?" He looked around the room and then sat down himself, Tali staying anchored to his side.

"You seemed to already know that."

He swallowed. "Hearing it from someone else is different."

"She's well," Angie answered his silent question. "She is lonely and afraid that you will never forgive her but she is well."

"I'm not mad," he said.

"Likely hurt though."

"And … confused." Tony supplied, gesturing to the room around him.

Angie nodded and rose from the couch. She pulled a photo album from her bookshelf. She flipped halfway through the book before handing it to Tony.

"Proof that I am friend not foe." She answered to his raised eyebrow.

Tony stared at that picture. Seventeen year olds Ziva and Angie stood in their fatigues. Machine guns in both of their of hands. The desert landscape behind them. They looked so young, so impressionable. So unprepared for what they were about to witness.

"It was when we graduated from basic training." Angie supplied. "Our mothers were good friends and my mother tried her hardest to look out for Ziva after Rivka died." She paused. "Eli made that a bit challenging."

"I can imagine."

"It's been hard to stay in touch," Angie said. "I've been in France for more than five years. I've only been to the States once, but Ziva always tried." She sank down next to him and looked at the picture. "I think it is because I'm one of the few left from before everything got so out of hand."

"And now?" Tony asked.

"I guess…I'm why you're all in Perpignan," she supplied. "She needed someone and I'm…safe, but…removed."

"You've been in Perpignan for five years?" Tony asked.

"It's a hidden treasure," she explained. "Not boring, but not all together exciting, either. It's what I needed after Mossad."

It was mid-morning when Angie drove them up the coast. The sun was on its way to being high in the sky and Tali was beaming with all the energy of a new day.

Ziva, Angie explained, had settled on the outskirts of a port town. Port Vendrés was just a little more than a half hour south of Perpignan. It was quiet and unassuming and yet, it was accessible and not isolated. Perpignan gave her rail access to Paris while Nice and Barcelona were only a couple hours to the north and south. It was just what Ziva wanted. Why and for how long were questions that her old friend felt wasn't her place to answer.

Angie wound them down the coast, showing Tali some of the sights along the way. She pointed out the light houses and the boats and fishing docks. Tali giggled with her face pressed up against the window, repeating the words coming from Angie. Tony sensed their bond and he wanted to ask just how much time they had spent together, but Angie had been quieter this morning than the night before.

They came through Port Vendrés, its streets lined with restaurants and cafes, and then exited the town center to move further down the road. The beach was filled with vacationers and in the outer harbor a cruise ship was docked. It was idyllic – so far from what Ziva had imagined for herself. The thought filled Tony with a bittersweet mixture of hope and regret.

As the road came back along the coast, Angie pulled off to the side – a tiny dirt road lay on their left.

"My car can't make it down there," she said.

He thanked Angie and said he hoped they would be seeing her again soon – once all of this was somehow figured out. She nodded and Tony again sensed that she knew more than she let on. He slung one of their bags over his shoulder and took Tali's hand. Once they had crossed the road, Tali broke free of his hand and skipped her way down the gravel road. She thought they were on an adventure and was squealing for all the world to hear.

She lost a shoe somewhere along the road, though it didn't slow her steptand Tony scooped it up, calling after her to come back to him.

It was the second house from the corner – the yellow one. That's what Angie had told him. A small French bungalow covered in ivory and lined with gardens of overgrown flowers. There was no car in the driveway, but he didn't doubt that she was there.

"Tali-too," he called and she turned. He scooped her off the ground and settled her on his hip. "I think this is It.," he said. "Are you ready to see Ima?"

"Ima." And that was when they saw her.