The morning sun streamed through the small windows of the safe house, illuminating the kitchen with a soft glow. The scent of Rivka's breakfast wafted through the air—fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and warm, fresh bread. Tali was seated at the table, flipping through her notes for her upcoming lectures, while Ziva and Tony helped Rivka set everything out.
"This smells amazing, Mom," Tali said, looking up with a smile.
Rivka beamed. "Thank you, Tali. I thought we could use a hearty breakfast after everything that happened yesterday."
As they gathered around the table, Tony poured himself another cup of coffee, taking a seat next to Ziva. Just as he settled in, his phone buzzed loudly against the wooden surface. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening. He ignored the phone call end went back to eating.
Ziva caught the annoyance flickering across his face. "Who is calling you?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Just my father," Tony replied, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Already called me a few nights ago somethingabout him getting married again."
Before Ziva could respond, Tony's phone rang again. This time, the irritation was palpable as he ignored the call once more, his fingers tapping impatiently against the table.
"Maybe you should talk to him," Ziva suggested gently, sensing the tension building.
"Trust me, I'm not in the mood for that right now," he replied, shaking his head.
Just as Ziva was about to say more, her own phone chimed. She glanced at the screen, and to her surprise, it displayed a familiar name: Anthony DiNozzo Senior.
"Tony, your father is calling me," she said, her eyebrows lifting in amusement.
"Don't answer it, Ziva! Please" Tony pleaded, but it was too late.
She swiped to answer, putting the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
"Ziva! It's nice to ear that beautiful voice of yours" Tony's father exclaimed, his voice warm and charming. "How are you Anthony? I heard you are going to get married again?"
"I am fine and yes I will be getting married soon. You should come with junior to the wedding" he says.
"I would be honored" said Ziva smiling while Tony tried to take the phone from her.
"Is my son around? I've been trying to get in touch with him." said Senior.
Ziva glanced over at Tony, who was now groaning and running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "He's right here, Anthony. Would you like to speak with him?"
"Of course! Put him on!" Senior replied eagerly.
Ziva held out the phone to Tony, who looked as if he were being handed a live grenade. "Your dad wants to talk to you."
With a resigned sigh, Tony took the phone, pressing it to his ear. "Hey, Dad."
As Tony began talking to his father, Tali turned to Ziva, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Wait, how do you have Tonys fathers number?"
Ziva smiled at Tali, pleased to share a piece of Tony's life with her. "He visited Tony a few times when we were working on cases together. He even helped us out on one or two occasions."
Tali raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? But that does not explain why he has your number" she said teasingly grinning at Ziva.
"You are being very noisy again Tali. I guess some things never change" Ziva said, a fondness in her voice as she watched Tony's animated expression through the conversation. It was a rare glimpse of him more relaxed and at ease with family.
Tony's voice carried across the table, his annoyance dissipating as he chatted with his father. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll call you as soon as this case is over. Yes I will tell Ziva... I know dad... Yeah bye"
Ziva exchanged a glance with Tali, both of them sharing a smile as they listened to Tony's side of the conversation.
After a moment, Tony hung up the phone, looking a bit more at ease. But still as he was handing Ziva her phone back me mentioned " Please don't pick up his phone call again after I ignore him" Ziva just grinned at Tony saying nothing. "You know how dad drives me crazy sometimes"
Rivka returned to the table, setting down a plate piled high with food. "What's this about driving people crazy?" she asked playfully, sensing the light atmosphere.
"Just my dad" answered Tony "he can be a lot sometimes.
After breakfast, the safe house had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Tali had taken her laptop and papers to the small table near the window, focusing on her university work. Rivka was lounging on the couch, a book in her hands, her eyes occasionally flicking to her daughters as if still trying to absorb the reality of being together again.
In the kitchen, Tony and Ziva had fallen into an easy routine. Tony was drying the dishes while Ziva washed, her sleeves rolled up, the steady rhythm of water and plates between them soothing.
"This is kind of domestic, don't you think?" Tony teased, tossing a dish towel over his shoulder.
Ziva smirked without looking up from the soapy water. "I suppose it is. I didn't think you were the dish-drying type, though."
Tony shrugged, watching her with a grin. "Hey, I can be domestic when I want to be. I just need the right motivation."
Ziva rolled her eyes, scrubbing a plate before handing it to him. "And what's your motivation now? Because I doubt it's a love of chores."
Tony leaned against the counter, still holding the towel. "You, of course," he said, his voice taking on a dramatic tone. "Helping my partner, keeping the peace… you know, all in a day's work."
Ziva couldn't help but smile as she rinsed off another dish. "Is that so?"
Tony nodded seriously, but the glint in his eyes betrayed him. "Absolutely. Plus, I'm hoping you'll tell me another embarrassing story about your childhood."
Ziva gave him a sideways glance. "Don't push your luck, Tony."
He laughed, taking the next plate from her hands. "Come on, it's only fair. Tali already gave me a couple. I think I deserve at least one more."
Ziva shook her head, still amused. "Trust me, you know enough. I have no desire to share anything else."
Tony dried the plate with a flourish, grinning. "I don't know, I think I'll have to ask Tali about a few more stories. She's got to have some good ones stored up."
Ziva shot him a look that was half-serious, half-playful. "If you do, you'll regret it."
"Oh, is that a threat?" he asked, raising his eyebrows as he placed the dish back on the counter.
Ziva handed him another plate, her expression flat. "It's a promise."
The two worked in silence for a few moments, the sound of Tali typing away at her laptop occasionally breaking through the quiet. Rivka's calm presence could be felt from the other room, the soft rustle of pages as she flipped through her book adding to the peaceful atmosphere.
After a while, Tony broke the silence, his voice quieter this time. "Your mom seems... content, considering everything."
Ziva paused, her hands still submerged in the soapy water. "She is trying," she admitted softly. "It's been hard, for both of us. But being here, together again, it's helping."
Tony nodded, his expression softening. "It's a lot to process, I'm sure. But at least you have this time now. To figure things out."
Ziva looked at him, appreciating his understanding. "Yes, we do."
As they continued with the dishes, Ziva found herself grateful for Tony's presence. His ability to keep things light, even in the midst of chaos, was something she had come to rely on more than she would ever admit. And now, here they were—sharing a quiet moment, doing something as mundane as cleaning up after breakfast, and yet it felt like a small slice of peace in the middle of everything.
Tony reached for the last dish, drying it with exaggerated care. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "we could make this a regular thing. You, me, doing dishes—very domestic."
Ziva chuckled, turning off the tap and drying her hands. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, DiNozzo. I think one morning of dish duty is enough."
Tony grinned. "Fair enough. But if you ever need a dish-drying partner, you know where to find me."
"I'll keep that in mind," Ziva replied, rolling her eyes again as she placed the last of the dishes back in the cupboard.
The morning sunlight filtered into the kitchen, and for a moment, everything felt calm and almost normal. Despite the looming threats and the uncertainties of what lay ahead, there was comfort in these small, shared moments—moments where Tony's humor and Ziva's resilience carried them through.
With the dishes done and the kitchen spotless, Tony tossed the dish towel over the back of a chair and made his way into the living room. He plopped down on the couch, stretching out comfortably and grabbing the remote. "Alright, time to introduce this safe house to some classic cinema."
Ziva followed him into the room, wiping her hands on her pants. She shook her head, amused by his dedication to finding a moment to relax. "Is there ever a time when you don't think about movies?"
"Movies are life, Ziva," Tony replied with a grin. "They teach us, they inspire us, and sometimes, they just help us survive a long day in the woods."
Ziva smirked, watching as he scrolled through the limited selection on the screen. "I'm sure that's exactly what they were intended for."
As Tony settled on a movie—something light and old-school—Ziva wandered over to the small bookshelf in the corner of the room. Most of the books were worn, their spines cracked from use, but one caught her eye. She pulled it out, flipping through the pages before deciding it would do for the quiet afternoon.
With her book in hand, she sat down in one of the armchairs near the couch, curling her legs beneath her as she opened to the first chapter. The quiet rustle of pages turning mingled with the low hum of the movie Tony had started, creating a peaceful backdrop to the otherwise tense circumstances.
Tony glanced over at her, eyebrows raised. "A book? While I'm watching one of the greatest films ever made? You wound me, Ziva."
Ziva didn't look up from her reading, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Not everything has to be about movies, Tony."
"Sure, sure. But you're missing out," Tony teased, his attention drifting back to the screen. "This is a classic."
Ziva shot him a sideways glance over the top of her book. "You've said that about every movie you've ever shown me."
"And I'm always right, aren't I?" he replied with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes but didn't respond, letting the quiet settle over them again. The familiar dynamic between them—the banter, the unspoken understanding—was something Ziva had come to cherish. Even in moments like these, when the world seemed to be closing in, they could still find a way to be themselves.
As the movie played, Tony stole a glance at Ziva every now and then, watching her as she became engrossed in her book. There was something calming about the moment—a rare pause in the chaos of their lives.
After a while, Tony turned down the volume a bit, not wanting to disturb her too much, though he couldn't resist throwing out one last comment. "You know, you could join me. The book will still be there later."
Ziva finally lowered the book slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. "I thought you wanted me to relax. Reading is relaxing."
"Touché," Tony said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "But don't say I didn't offer."
Ziva smiled to herself and returned to her book, the tension of the past few days slowly fading as they settled into their own forms of relaxation.
In the other corner of the room, Tali was still working on her university assignments, occasionally glancing at her sister and Tony with a knowing smile. Rivka, meanwhile, remained focused on her book, though every so often, she glanced over at her daughters, a quiet contentment settling over her.
For now, at least, everything felt peaceful, if only for a little while.
As the afternoon grew darker, Ziva and Tali worked side by side in the kitchen, preparing dinner. The familiar sounds of chopping vegetables and sizzling pans filled the space, creating a sense of normalcy in the otherwise tense situation. Rivka remained in the living room, absorbed in her book, while Tony was on the couch, fully engrossed in watching his favorite Buckeyes game.
Ziva focused on preparing the chicken, handing Tali a cutting board to continue chopping the vegetables. The quiet rhythm of their movements felt peaceful, as if they'd done this many times before—like a piece of their childhood restored.
"You and Tony seem to spend a lot of time together," Tali remarked, glancing at Ziva as she sliced through a bell pepper.
Ziva's eyes stayed on the task at hand, not missing a beat. "How are your classes going?" she asked, smoothly redirecting the conversation. "Tell me about university."
Tali blinked, realizing that Ziva had neatly sidestepped the question, but she went along with it. "It's been going well," she said, continuing to chop the vegetables. "It's a lot of work, but I like it. I've been thinking about specializing in international relations."
Ziva nodded, her expression softening. "That sounds like it suits you," she said with a small smile. "I always knew you'd do something meaningful."
Tali smiled, appreciating the compliment. "I'm trying. It's competitive, but I like the challenge."
Before their conversation could continue, Tony wandered into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of dinner cooking. "What's going on in here?" he asked, eyes scanning the counter before casually reaching over to grab a slice of bell pepper.
"Tony, don't," Ziva said sharply, swatting his hand away before he could steal another piece of vegetable. "If you're not going to help, stay out of the kitchen."
"Who said I'm not helping? I'm taste-testing," Tony teased, grinning as he stepped back. "But I get it, I'm banished. I'll be watching the Buckeyes if you need me—don't hesitate to call for a hero."
With a playful smirk, Tony sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving Tali to shake her head in amusement. "He really can't resist," she murmured.
Ziva let out a small sigh. "No, he can't," she said, the corners of her mouth lifting in spite of herself.
Once they were alone again, Tali glanced back at her sister, her curiosity returning. "What are the Buckeyes? Is that a show?" asked Tali.
Ziva put her knife to the side laughing. She then turned to Tali with a smile on her face while Tali was confused. Ziva had to laugh so much because she knew how Tony would have reacted if he would still have been in the kitchen.
"It's not a movie Tali. It's a basketball team" she said.
"Ohhh" said Tali now also laughing. "So Tony is into basketball?"
Ziva continued to cut her vegetables as she answered Tali "Before becoming a cop Tony played basketball at college. He was playing for Ohio State and their team are the Buckeyes he is still watching their games. And to round everything up I have to quote DiNozzo otherwise he would be upset "if I would not have gotten my knee blown out the last game I would have been a pro"" she finished in her best Tony voice.
Tali then smiled and said "looks like you know your partner very well" she teased and Ziva just looked at her.
"And what about you Zi? I really have to know... Are you… happy?" she asked softly.
Ziva paused, surprised by the question. She glanced at her sister, then gave a small, measured smile. "Yes, Tali. I am."
Tali studied her for a moment, seeming satisfied with the response. "Good. You deserve it."
Ziva didn't say anything more, turning back to the stove as she stirred the vegetables in the pan. The conversation drifted back to Tali's life her university experience, her plans for the future and the sisters talked easily, reconnecting in the way they hadn't been able to for so long.
In the living room, Tony's occasional cheers echoed as his team played, the sound adding to the comforting sense of routine in the house. It was a rare moment of calm in the midst of chaos, and for the first time in a long while, Ziva allowed herself to enjoy it.