Season 7, when Ziva was still trying to find her place I guess

Prompt: family dinner


Soft jazzy music was playing in the background, occasionally drowned out by laughter. The warm kind of laughter that felt like being wrapped up in a comfortable blanket on a cold evening, spreading love and safety through her body. Every now and then there was a brief lull in the conversation, words dribbling down to no more than a "pass the potatoes", or "refill?", accompanied by a staccato of cutlery on dishes.

Ziva lifted her wine glass to her lips, slowly, taking in all the sounds and smells, the faces of her coworkers, all relaxed, cheeks a bit flushed, whether from the champagne and wine, or the sheer amount of people sharing body heat in her rather small apartment.

Taking a drink, she savored the taste as she caught Tony gazing at her. He lifted his own glass to her, and took a drink, not breaking eye contact.

"Tony!" Abby's voice broke the spell. In her typical fast-paced fashion, she babbled "Pass the peas, please."

He shared the briefest of glances, and held up the bowl of tiny, green vegetables, then looked at Abby. "Pasda peesplees."

Ziva watched his brow furrow ever so slightly, as if surprised by the mocking tone in his own voice.

"My lady," he said sincerely as he curtly bowed his head, "your peas." He placed the bowl next to her plate, took her hand and squeezed it, as a form of apology. "Nothing better than dinner with friends," he said, and let go of Abby's hand.

Ziva briefly locked eyes with him, and then looked at all of her coworkers, her friends, who had happily agreed to come to her dinner party, despite of everything that had happened. Her heart filled with a warmth she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Not friends," Abby piped up cheerfully, "family!"

Ziva did a double take, and while joyful cheers rose around her, and she looked into their eyes full of love and happiness, she realized that these coworkers, the friends she would die for—some who had almost died for her—were indeed her family now.