This is quite a long chapter, just because it is tying everything off and wrapping everything up. I hope.

It has taken me over a year to write ten chapters. That seems crazy. I wanted to get this done by the end of June, but I kept adding more and more to it.

I have quite enjoyed this one. It has given me something to write when I cannot sleep.

I like this chapter possibly best of all, but I do not know why. Also, I thought it was really happy, but then I noticed how many arguments there are in it. I cut out a couple, but there are still quite a few.

Oh, I changed, like, one fact, I think, but I am using my artistic licence card.

Defying Expectations

Despite always being the strongest, always being the best, there was no mistaking that Ziva David was weak. She had been raised to be a stone-cold killer, head of the Kidon unit, the tip of the spear. Her childhood had been spent dismantling Uzis and finding her way out of forests. It had been drilled into her that trust was for the naïve and love the spineless. It had been expected that she would follow her father's footsteps, continue in the family business whilst her sister would be the one to give their parents grandchildren.

When her mother had given her father only girls and his illegitimate son refused to take his name, it was inevitable that the family name of David would die. And when a child blew up a café in Tel Aviv, it became clear that Eli David would not be having legitimate grandchildren, for his only surviving daughter was devoted to her country and her work, and thus had such a short life expectancy that she would not have the time to bring a child into the world, and if she did find the time, she would not have the stupidity to do so. When the orders were given for the termination of a rogue agent, the possibility of any grandchildren, legitimate or otherwise, fell out of the picture, along with the continuation of the bloodline.

So when the news of his eldest - and only surviving - daughter's pregnancy reached him, to say he was conflicted would have been an understatement. His daughter was a soldier. A warrior. Prepared for battle at all times. But most importantly she was an asset. She was highly trained in combat and diplomacy, though the latter could have done with some polishing.

However, contrary to popular belief, there was a heart buried deep within Eli David's chest, and that heart yearned for a second chance, a chance to repent; to spoil a grandchild with clothes and love. A chance to hear laughter echoing off the floors of his house once more, to see children running through the olive grove in Be'er Sheva again. A chance to see a child go to college and study film or literature; mathematics or architecture; a harmless subject that would not put them at risk in the cruel world they lived in. He wanted a chance to see a child live; flourish.

It did not aid him in his decisions to know that this grandchild was to be born out of wedlock, to a man whose reputation for taking women to bed far outstretched some of the most experienced of playboys, and who was hardly discreet about it. He studied the photos on his desk, the select ones of his daughter and her interactions with one Anthony D. DiNozzo. Junior. They were ranging from when she first left Israel permanently to mere days ago. Them working together, her stood on his doorstep, their hands entwined as they walked along a street. If he were to lay all the photos out in a timeline, there would be a sudden jolt of activity after about a year of her being there, followed by a lull. Activity would then pick up again from around three months back.

He looked at the most recent photo, one depicting his daughter laughing as she sat on a park bench with DiNozzo, his hand on her swollen stomach. She had sent an email promising that there was nothing between them as soon as her colleague's book had been published in Israel, promising that it was purely fictional and there was no such child on the way. He was not certain that he had believed her at the time, and he was positive that he did not believe her now.

His fingers itched as they sat on his phone, hovering slightly before punching in his daughter's phone number. It took a while for her to answer, but when she did she gave a hesitant "Shalom?"

"Ziva."

"Aba?"

"How are you?"

"I…" there was a pause and he was unsure of what she was thinking, "I am well. And yourself?"

"I am getting old." They lapsed into a silence muffled by the static of overseas calls. "What time is it over there?"

"Um, about midday."

"And you are home? Are you ill?"

She was quiet again. "I am on maternity leave at the moment."

"Ah, of course. I forgot," he looked down. "When are you due?"

"Any time from now," there was a small, nervous chuckle. "Why are you calling?"

"I want to see you, Ziva. I want to meet your Mr DiNozzo," he was greeted by static, followed by a sharp intake of breath. "Ziva?"

"I am fine. It was nothing. I am fine. I mean, maybe it was a contraction. It would make sense, given the same sensation I felt earlier." He could the nerves in her voice. "I am going to have to call you back, Aba."

"Ziva…ani ohev otach."

"I love you, too, Aba."

Tony unlocked the door to Ziva's apartment, wincing when it clicked loudly and squeaked when he opened it. The gurgling coo of his daughter allowed him to sigh in relief, grateful for the fact that he had not, this time around at least, woken her. He grinned, poking his head around the door and seeing her, squirming on her back on the floor whilst Ziva lay on her stomach next to her. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. "How was it today?"

"How was he, do you mean?" He muttered. "Still not talking to me." Gibbs had been ignoring him ever since he had gotten a phone call from Ziva three weeks back asking for a lift to the hospital whilst they were interviewing a witness. He had argued that she had no control over when she went into labour, flinching under Gibbs cold glare and backing out of the witness's house and hopping into the Dodge that McGee had driven up in.

Gibbs gruff answer and the file he had rushed over being grabbed from his hand as he jumped out of the way of Tony had answered McGee's confused look.

Abby had called it whilst they were at the hospital, studying the two of them as everybody else filed out of the small room they were gathered in. "She's got your nose," she paused as Ziva dragged her eyes away from her child, "but then, babies tend to look like their father, early on, at least. It makes abandonment less likely." They had both tried to deny it and she had cut them off, telling them she had realised it months ago. She had grinned gleefully, her hands clutched in front of her as Tony stepped over, pleading with her to keep quiet about it whilst they figured out how to tell everyone else.

Ducky had been next, catching them off guard at the coffee shop two streets from Ziva's apartment as they had a quiet breakfast. He had given them a proud smile, patting Tony on the shoulder and pressing a kiss to the infant's forehead before ordering his croissant and a coffee for Palmer and heading to the Navy Yard to complete the autopsy for a case.

"Try telling him. Admit that you are together," McGee had said as he stood next to Tony in the elevator after Gibbs had spoken solely to him whilst ordering them to bring in a suspect. "Then he might start talking to you again." He had raised his eyebrows at his younger colleague. "Abby told me."

Jenny had found out when Ziva was sat discussing the extent of her maternity leave. They had been sat in the director's office and she had simply stated that Tony was the father of her baby. Jenny had chuckled and shook her head. She had known all along. As, she smiled, everybody had.

"I will talk to him when they are all round tonight."

"Round tonight?"

"I told you, we are having everyone her so they can properly meet her."

Her. Tony looked down at his little girl as he lay on the opposite side of her to Ziva. Aalijah Rebekah DiNozzo. Of course, nobody else knew about the 'DiNozzo'. To everyone else she was a David. Her birth certificate read DiNozzo, as did the passport Ziva had applied for for her. "What time?"

She looked at her watch. "Half an hour from now. I suggest you go shower," she wrinkled her nose at him before kissing her daughter's cheek and tickling her stomach.

"Who's everyone?"

"Everyone. Gibbs, Ducky, Palmer, McGee, Abby and Jenny."

He nodded and stood up, running a hand through his hair. "I'll try talking to him first. I don't want him ignoring you, too."

"Can I take Allie for a minute?" Tony asked quietly as he stood behind her.

"Of course," she smiled, handing the child over carefully. She watched as he grinned at the tiny girl before walking over to the window and to Gibbs.

"Ziva likes watching the cars go past when she can't sleep," he was quiet as the red and white lights of a car reflected off the wet tarmac. "She says it's therapeutic. I don't see it, really, but then I don't think anyone really sees things the way she sees them," Gibbs persevered with his silence and Tony sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not sorry, if that's it. I'm not sorry that I have a beautiful baby girl."

The older man gave a rare, small smile and turned to him. "I just wanted you to admit it. My team works on trust, DiNozzo. You know that," he looked to the child in his senior field agent's arms. "She is a beautiful girl, DiNozzo. I would never have expected you to apologise for her," he tilted his head to the side, "sleeping with one of my agents, now that is something I might have liked an apology for, but I think the product is quite enough of an apology."

"So… you're not disappointed?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Why would I be disappointed in you?"

"Well, I…"

"Do you love her?"

"Huh?" Tony looked at him, rather unnerved by the sudden change in the line of questioning. He had always admired Gibbs' abilities in the interrogation room. "Yeah. Of course, I do. She's…she's everything," he paused, looking at his daughter, "well, not quite everything."

"Then I'm not disappointed."

Tony took a relieved breath, looking down at his child. "Do you…do you want to hold her?" Gibbs held his arm out, smiling when she was passed over. "Aalijah. But you can call her Allie if it's easier. Ziva said she does not really mind that much, but I can see it sometimes in her eyes when we shorten her name. I think she knows that it's gonna be hard when she gets to school for kids and teachers to say her name, although she is already looking at the nearest Hebrew and Jewish day schools."

"Why Aalijah?" Tony paused and Gibbs studied him, "if you don't mind, that is?"

He chuckled quietly. "No, no, it's uh, she had a friend, when she was in school. Elijah. Apparently, when they were teenagers, they jokingly made a deal that they would name their first-born after the other, never a serious deal – it was after a conversation about how much he disliked his name, whilst she liked it," he grew solemn. "She got a phone call from her aunt the other month, he was killed in a stabbing whilst taking a group of children on a school trip. He was not even supposed to be on the trip, but he was standing in for another teacher."

"And Aalijah is the feminine of Elijah," Gibbs nodded in understanding.

"I had no other suggestions, and she said it was her way of honouring a good, peaceful man."

Gibbs looked at his SFA proudly. "You've done a good job, DiNozzo."

"You think?"

"Yeah."

Tony nodded, running a hand through his hair to hide his grin. After a moment of semi-uncomfortable silence he turned to his boss. "You should sniff her head. She smells amazing – before she was born I would have thought it weird, but honestly, you need to smell her head."

"I know what baby smells like, DiNozzo."

"Boss, just do it. It's life-changing."

"Why did we ever think it was a good idea to take a six-week-old baby on a fourteen hour flight?" Tony grumbled, running his hand through his scruffy hair that really needed cutting.

"She was not that bad, Tony. She just got grouchy after the layover," Ziva sighed, looking down at their sleeping daughter in her car seat as they made their way towards the taxi rank. "Much like her father."

"It's not my fault that I get bored on long flights," he cracked his neck, "especially when I have a very beautiful woman sat next to me."

"I do not think I quite classify as very beautiful, Tony," she dismissed him with a shake of her head.

"Well, it's a good job I was talking about the blonde on the other side of me then, isn't it?" He smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing the back of her head as they waited in line.

"Well, it is a good thing that I know you are joking, DiNozzo, because otherwise I would be leaving you to deal with my father alone," there was a smirk on her face as she turned to him, touching her lips to his before resting her head on his chest.

"Worried?"

She shrugged, giving him a headshake that soon turned into a nod. "I am concerned about what he will think of you."

He paused for a moment. "Should I be offended?"

"I would not. Eli will be as critical of you as he would of any man sleeping with his daughter," the voice that came from behind Ziva made her grin, whilst Tony looked over at the older man with suspicion.

"Hadar. How have you been?" She passed Aalijah over to Tony, careful not to jostle and wake her, before properly turning around and walking over to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"How have I been? I think it should be me asking you that question," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"We have been good," she smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, taxis are extortion here."

She chuckled. "If you think they are extortion here, try DC. From here to Mossad, it would be over 56 shekels in DC."

"That is not much more, Ziva," Hadar shook his head.

"It is still a lot," she shrugged.

"Exactly. Which is why I am to be your driver for the week – direct orders from Director David himself."

"Hadar, we do not need a driver. I am perfectly capable of driving," there were snorts from both men and she threw her hands up in protest. "There is nothing wrong with my driving!"

"Ziva my child, there is everything wrong with your driving."

"Oh, so it's not just bad in America? She literally cannot drive anywhere?" Tony asked, his voice laced with glee.

"First time she drove me, I vowed never to eat before stepping into a car with her again. And I have a strong stomach."

Ziva made a face. "My car smelt of half-digested shakshouka for weeks afterwards." Tony laughed as he watched them bicker, feeling like he was watching father and daughter, despite knowing that this man was not Eli David, and thus not Ziva's father.

The older man turned to Tony suddenly, narrowing his eyes. "I apologise. We have not been introduced. Amit Hadar. A close friend of the David family."

Tony accepted the proffered hand, shaking it firmly. "Tony DiNozzo. Lover of Ziva, father of her child," he grinned, before receiving a sharp elbow to the stomach.

"If you say that to my father, I will not be responsible for anything he does to you."

"I believe my initial statement was wrong. Eli will be much more critical of you," he smirked. "I like him, Ziva. He has humour." The statement was murmured in Hebrew, leaving Tony in the dark as to what was said about him.

She smiled proudly, studying her partner for a long moment before nodding. "He is a good man. The best. Other than you, of course," she responded in her mother tongue too, before switching back to English for the sake of Tony. "We were planning on going to Nettie's, getting settled, refreshed, before seeing Aba."

"No problem, Ziva. He himself suggested dinner this evening. He even reserved a table at that little place you like."

"The one with the hummus?" Her face lit up.

"The one with the hummus," he nodded. "He did not think it was appropriate to meet his granddaughter at Mossad Headquarters. Although, I am certain there are a couple of officers who would love to meet her, even if they deny it."

"Would you like to meet her?"

"When she is awake," with that he was starting to walk towards the car park, looking over his shoulder to see if the couple were following. "Well, do you want to get to Nettie's or not? She will not be happy if you are late."

She was waiting for them when they arrived, standing on the doorstep of the large, Mediterranean-esque villa, a grin big enough to rival Tony's plastered across her face. She was running over to the car before Hadar had even turned the engine off, pulling open the door and almost yanking Tony out of the car as she hugged him. "Oh, you are perfect. I can see why she likes you already. Look at that face. And those shoulders; you have good shoulders. And your kind eyes. You can tell a lot about a person by their eyes. Tall, aren't you?" The flurry of Hebrew left Tony rather bemuse as his upper arms were held in the old woman's vice-like grip.

"Nettie, Tony does not speak Hebrew. I know you speak English, so can you please speak English for Tony?"

She huffed, turning to her niece. "You are no fun, Ziva," she opened her arms, allowing Ziva to fall into them.

The younger woman buried her face into her aunt's shoulder, her body shaking as she sobbed. "I have missed you, Doda."

"I know, child. I know."

"What's…? Is she okay?" Tony reached out his hand, his fingers not quite brushing Ziva's back as he looked to Amit for a translation.

"It has been a long time since they have seen one another. Young Tali's funeral was the last time they met face-to-face. Phone calls do not make up for years of absence."

"But…she said Tali died years ago. Like, years and years?" Tony had lowered his voice and moved further away from Ziva and her aunt and closer to Hadar.

"She did," Hadar's voice was tight. "Ziva was kept busy. And out of the country for a lot of the time."

The American nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I guess we better unload the cases," he did not want to talk about Ziva's pain, did not want the tears that were threatening to fall at seeing her anguish to make the man next to him think he was weak.

"A wise idea, Mr DiNozzo. She will not take well to your pity."

Tony rolled his eyes. Of course, all of her family and friends were mind-readers. Just his luck.

"It is our training. You notice body language; read it. She has said that your Gibbs is very talented at it," Hadar paused for a moment before opening the boot of the SUV, "of course, training does not explain Nettie."

"Great, so, not only has she had training, she's genetically disposed to being able to read minds. Y'know, that really explains a lot. It's like she doesn't have to even look at me to know what I am thinking."

"I know what you are thinking because there are only ever two things occupying your mind – food and sex," Ziva said from behind him, her hot breath on the back of his already sweaty neck. She smirked as he tried to object. "Tali was worse, she could be in the other room and still know everything you were thinking," she reached around him and grabbed one of the suitcases, holding it out to him, all traces of tears gone from her face, as Amit took the other one. She then walked back around to the other side of the car, opening the door and unclipping Allie's car seat, swiftly lifting it out and carrying it around to where Nettie stood. "I have a surprise for you."

"She is hardly a surprise, Ziva."

"Try telling that to Tony. It took two glasses of bourbon to snap him out of his shock," she smirked as she felt Tony wrap his arms around her from behind and rest his chin on her shoulder, pulling faces at the now-awake Aalijah.

"Hey, now, you gave me no warning, okay. I think it was fair enough for me to have a moment of shock."

"Well, I was hardly pre-informed," she rolled her eyes, turning the car seat around in her hands so Nettie could meet their daughter. "Aalijah. In honour of Elijah."

"She is perfect."

"Isn't she just?" Tony grinned proudly.

Nettie looked up at him, narrowing her eyes slightly before giving a slight nod of approval. She looked like Ziva, only older. Her curly hair was greying, and there were laughter-lines crinkling her face, but she had the same molten chocolate eyes and identical facial expressions. Her clothes were brighter than Ziva's, too, with the light material of a red and blue dress swirling around her. He caught sight of the sun glistening off the gold of the necklace hanging around her neck, identical to Ziva's. "Well, we shall go inside then so I can be introduced properly. Amit, be a dear and bring their cases in."

He rolled his eyes, replying in rapid Hebrew. Nettie's response was just as sharp and from Ziva's snort Tony figured the argument was harmless and a frequent occurrence. "He threatened to stop visiting if she insisted on treating him like a slave, and she asked why Eli gets to treat him like a slave."

"He visits often?"

She was about to say something when Nettie interrupted. "Amit is an old family friend."

The look his partner gave him suggested that she would elaborate later, when there were not so many prying ears. "You have redecorated again."

"Only the entrance hall and a couple of the bedrooms. I have one all sorted out for you and Aalijah."

Tony had phased out, focused entirely on the high walls and marble floors. He could see through the archway into the lounge, and then further out into a patio area overlooking the sea. Granted, there must have been a couple of streets separating them, but it was within walking distance. His eyes caught on the clear blue waters closer to them, the pool from which the noon sunlight reflected off of.

"You do not like it?" There was a smirk in Nettie's voice and he looked back at the woman, slightly shorter than Ziva.

"It's…not what I expected," he shook his head, "but then, I don't know what I expected." He was busy taking in the sandy and terracotta walls and the stairs leading up one side of the room to an overlooking balcony.

"Well, come on through then."

He whipped his head up to where Nettie and Ziva stood in the lounge, "uh, yeah." The lounge itself had shelves filled with vases, carvings, sculptures and all sorts of trinkets from around the world. He stepped over to the side table, studying the globe. "I've never thought about globes that aren't in English," all three Israelis pressed their lips together in a poor attempted to stifle their laughter, "it's not that funny."

"No, no, it's not," Ziva shook her head, glaring at her aunt and her father's right-hand man as she walked over, kissing his cheek and fiddling with his hair, "it is kind of funny."

"You're so mean," he pouted.

"No, it just reminds me how…sheltered your life was, growing up."

"Sheltered?" He raised his eyebrows, pulling back slightly.

"It is not necessarily a bad thing, or something specific to you, more the way your education system works in America."

"Oh, and Israel has such a great education system. Yeah, that's why parents across the world send their kids here," at his sarcasm-rich tone she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Aalijah is due a feed and then I am going to put her down for a nap," she turned from him, stepping over to where she had set the car seat down. "I am taking my old room, Doda."

"Ziva…"

"We will be down for dinner."

"Ziva, do not forget that we are going out for dinner with Eli tonight," Hadar called, causing her to pause and turn back to them, deliberating.

"Can you rearrange? I do not think I can face him tonight."

"I will see what I can do," he gave a small nod as she headed upstairs.

Tony sighed, running a hand over his face. "That's the first argument we've had in over three months."

"Well, she's probably tired."

"And the thought of dinner with Eli is enough to put anyone in a bad mood," Nettie muttered. "She will be fine." Hadar murmured something in Hebrew before stepping out onto the driveway. "Please make yourself at home. I was planning on you and Ziva taking the third bedroom to the left, but she has taken her old room, so…I am sure she will come around, so you can still have the spare room if you want," she smiled, "the channels on the TV are all in Hebrew I am afraid, and so are most of my books, but the pool requires no translation. Or you might just want to sleep."

"Okay, yeah, thanks, and, uh, sorry, y'know, about making Ziva…"

"I do not think it was you that made her…whatever she is. I think she is tired and concerned about what her father will say. Anyone could have set her off," Nettie paused, looking at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "She likes you, Mr DiNozzo, and you seem to be a good man."

Ziva woke from her doze to the gentle cooing of her daughter. She smiled down at the child, clear blue eyes meeting her chocolate ones as they lay sprawled on the bed she had slept in as a child. "Did you have a good sleep? Did you? You did?" She sighed. "At least one of us did. Come on, little one," she picked her little girl up, carrying her over to the window of her old room and looking out over the garden. Tony was swimming laps in the pool, the mid-afternoon sun glistening off the muscles of his back in the water. "Daddy has been working out. He is looking good," her daughter's flailing arms and legs grew quicker, "shall we go and join him? Do you want to play in the pool?"

How Abby had managed to find a newborn swimsuit at all, Ziva did not know, having spent hours looking around shops with Tony when they were searching for clothes for their trip. Aalijah was hardly a big baby, and even many of the little dresses Tony had found would still take time to grow into, along with a couple of the babygrows. So when Abby had turned up at the door to their apartment half an hour before their taxi to the airport, toting a black and white stripped bag containing a tiny black and white striped swimsuit with a frilled skirt, Ziva did not care that it was hardly the most common colour combination one would voluntarily put their newborn in. She had sobbed into Abby's arms right up until the moment the taxi pulled up and the Goth pressed a kiss to each of the family's foreheads.

She was honestly amazed that the swimsuit fit her daughter, and that it did not look that much like something out of the Addams Family – Tony had forced her to watch it on the plane after seeing Abby's gift. She grabbed the bottle of waterproof sunscreen that was on the bedside table and dotted the cold cream onto Aalijah's nose, provoking a squeal as she stared up at her mother, wide-eyed. Ziva laughed, rubbing sun-cream on her face, arms and legs. "Is that cold?" She kissed the little girl's wriggling feet before picking her up off the bed and placing the blue bucket hat McGee had given them over her smattering of dark hair.

She jogged down the stairs of the villa, Allie's small hands fisted in the light cover-up that she had slipped over her one-piece, and walked through the living room, the terracotta tiles turning into the patio beneath her feet. She looked to her left, seeing Hadar and Nettie playing a competitive game of Shesh Besh. She stepped over to the edge of the pool, sitting down and dangling her legs in the water, holding Aalijah so that she was leaning back against her, one arm wrapped around her torso to keep her upright.

Tony broke the surface of the water, looking over to his family. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You okay?"

She bit her lip and looked away. "I am sorry about earlier."

"No, it's fine, it was my fault – I shouldn't have been sarcastic."

"I should not have said what I said in the first place."

"Ziva, it really is my fault. I was too sensitive."

"No, I should not have laughed."

"It is both of your faults. Now kiss and make up." Nettie's accented voice called across to them.

"Well, you heard the woman," Tony grinned, swimming over. He pressed himself up with his hands either side of her, touching his lips to hers. "If you didn't have Allie right now, I'd pull you in."

"Well, I am glad I have my little girl, then," she smirked as Tony pressed kisses to their daughter's nose.

"Hmm. Hey, Nettie, can you take my little girl for a minute?" He winked at her and Ziva was tempted to hit the back of his head, Gibbs-style.

"Did you just wink at my aunt?" Ziva murmured, just as Aalijah was lifted from her arms.

"It worked," he shrugged, placing his hands on her waist as he kissed her softly. She melted slightly, leaning into him and placing a hand on his wet torso.

It was the grin spreading across his lips that alarmed her, but the shock of the water as he lifted her up and pulled her in was what caused her to lash out and splash him. "I will kill you, Anthony DiNozzo, if it is the last thing I do!"

"So, Nettie and Hadar…?"

"They were something. A long time ago. Long before my mother and father had even met. I do not know the whole story, only that they had been close, went to school together I think." Ziva shrugged as she climbed into bed next to him. "He met Eli at my parent's wedding. Nettie had already taken a disliking to Eli. As far as I know, Nettie and Hadar did not even see one another after that until the day I was born. Eli does not like Nettie, Nettie does not like Eli, and Hadar likes them both. Amit was always here when I was little, always helping fix things around the house, or keeping Nettie company. I do not really know, though."

"Was it ever…romantic?"

"I think…maybe. Before he met Eli. Afterwards, I do not think so," she shrugged as she nestled into him, tucking her head under his chin and placing her hand over his as it wrapped around her stomach.

She could feel him bury his face in her hair, kissing the back of her head and nuzzling his nose against her, inhaling deeply. "You smell good."

"I would say the same about you, but I would be lying," Ziva sighed innocently, giggling as he tickled her mercilessly. "Shhh, sshhh, stop, you will wake Aalijah."

He snorted. "I will? You're the one laughing," he allowed her to regain a steady breathing pattern before pressing his lips just behind her ear, knocking her breathing back out of sync. He reached his fingers around and tapped the star that lay on the pillow by her neck. "You wear the same necklace."

"You are observant today," Ziva smirked before her smile fell. "It was my mother's. They were each given one. My mother's was given to me when she died and Nettie's would have gone to Tali."

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? You have done nothing wrong."

He shrugged. "Bringing up bad memories, I guess."

"No, not bad memories," she rolled over so she was facing him and brought her finger up to trace his features in the dark. "I think she would have liked you. She would find you funny."

"And would I like her?" He assumed they were speaking of Tali.

"You would love her," she smiled, "I think you would see her as a little sister. Abby reminds me of her, in a way."

"Yeah?"

"You know how Abby has a childlikeness about her? A naivety, almost? Like, how excited she gets around Christmas time?"

"Yeah."

"That is what reminds me of Tali. In aspects she was wise – she had seen death, she had experienced terrible things, but part of her was still awestruck with the world. She could see the good, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Tony nodded, understanding her completely. He peered over her shoulder at the clock on the side and pulled a face.

"Late?"

"Mhmm. We should get some sleep if we are to meet your father tomorrow," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled as he stared at her. "You're beautiful."

"I do not think so."

"You should, y'know," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Well, because I say you're beautiful, and I am always right."

"Is that so? Then how come it was the ex-boyfriend and not the wife that killed the Petty Officer last week?"

"Well, I'm always right when it comes to beautiful women. And you are the most beautiful of them all," she could hear the smile in his voice, see it through the dark, and her heart melted.

"You are growing soft in old age," she muttered as she rolled back over, chuckling quietly as he grumbled and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to him.

"I'm not old."

"Mmm…keep telling yourself that."

"You're mean."

"I know," she settled her head down on his arm and closed her eyes. "Goodnight, Mr DiNozzo," she sniggered, burying her face in the pillow to stifle her laughter.

"Ugh. Can you please tell your family to stop calling me that?"

"Nope."

"Fine then, Ms David. Just wait until you meet my family."

"'Ms' makes me sound old and single."

"'Mr' makes me sound like my father."

"Touché," she mumbled, her voice finally starting to slur. "Goodnight, Tony."

"Night, Ziva. I love you."

"Mmm…love you, too."

The last thing Tony thought of as he drifted off to sleep was the smile in her sleep-heavy voice as she told him she loved him for the first time.

"Boker tov," Nettie chirped as Tony and Ziva entered the kitchen. "How do you take your eggs, Mr DiNozzo?"

"Uh, any way. What's going?"

"Amit and Ziva will be having theirs scrambled, I will be having mine boiled and you can have yours any way you would like."

"Amit stayed the night?" Ziva studied her aunt carefully.

"Eli has given him the week off to drive you around."

Ziva pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and shook her head, but shrugged whatever it was she was going to say off. "Is he at the table?"

"Should be," the older woman called as Ziva took Tony's hand and dragged him and Aalijah through to the dining room, sitting him down at the table and sitting next to him, pressing her lips to his before turning to Hadar and smiling. "Good morning."

"Someone is happy this morning," Amit narrowed his eyes. "Did you use protection this time, Ziva?"

She gasped, her eyes twinkling, just as Nettie walked through and raised her eyebrows. "Hadar, there are delicate ears in the room!"

"Ziva, she is too young to understand," Nettie smirked, "we are all adults here."

"Actually, I was talking about Tony," Ziva shrugged, standing behind him and lightly placing her hands over his ears. "You may continue now." Tony batted her hands away and she kissed his cheek, sitting back down again.

"She was very quiet if anything did happen last night," Nettie studied the young couple. "No, that is not sex-happy."

"Then what happy is it?" Hadar asked, grinding pepper over his eggs on toast.

He looked up at her as her eyes swung between the two grins at the other end of the table. "You have only just told him, Ziva? You have a baby and he only just knows?! I thought your Ima did a better job of teaching you about love than that."

She blushed, looking down. "I did not want it to be a throwaway comment. I wanted to mean it."

"And you only just realized that you meant it? I could have told you that you meant it all those months ago when you first told me about the baby!"

"Doda…"

"Do not Doda me," Nettie sighed, studying her niece. "This is your father's doing. I always said Eli was bad news."

"Nettie," there was a cautioning sternness to Hadar's voice.

"I am just saying," she held her hands up in defense before turning to Ziva and Tony at the other end of the table and smiling. "Mr DiNozzo, I will cook your eggs now. How do you want them?"

"She reminds me of you, Ziva," the older woman smiled, taking Aalijah's small hand in her own and rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger. "She makes you smile."

"She is perfect. There is no reason why she should not."

Nettie chuckled. "I have never seen you laugh so much. Not even when you were a child."

"She makes me feel alive."

"No, Ziva. You have been feeling alive for a lot longer. It is him, yes? He is your life."

She snorted, shaking her head. "You are imagining things again, Nettie," she looked up at her aunt.

"But you do love him?"

Ziva sighed, pressing kisses to her daughter's stomach as she delayed answering. "Yes, I love him. Aba will not be happy."

"That will hardly be a change. Ziva, who you love is not decided by Eli. It is decided by you and your heart. Did you really only realize it yesterday?"

Ziva looked over her shoulder to where Tony was, sat at the dining table with Hadar as they attempted to set up a camcorder, lowering her voice even though she knew Tony would not understand a word she spoke. "I was concerned that he would, after a week or a month or whenever, come to his senses, wake up one morning and see that he was living with his completely insane partner and their love-child from a stupid one-night-stand. I did not want to tell him how I felt only for him to leave three days later."

"And you think he would have done that?" Nettie looked over to the subject of their discussion, frowning. "I do not."

"Well, I had to see for myself that it was not the case."

"So what changed your mind yesterday then?"

"Everything. The fact that he traveled half way across the world, to Israel of all places, for me. The fact that when I lost it he waited patiently for me to calm down and the fact that he seems to fit in so well here, with you and Amit. Just all of it. It makes me wonder how it is possible that he can be so perfect and still want me."

"Maybe that is what makes him perfect. Love is blind, Ziva. Though, love does not need to be blind with you," she placed a hand on her niece's reddening cheek, dropping a kiss to her forehead before turning back to the baby on the floor between them.

Her chest constricted slightly when her fingers brushed against the folded cotton in her search for the box of memories she had hidden away in the closet years before. She knew that if she moved her hand up by three inches and to the left by four, she would feel the circle of wool that used to perch upon her head. Her nose filled with the acrid scent of burnt flesh and plastic, the metallic undercurrent of blood turning her stomach. And then there was the subdued, day-to-day smell of burning bread drifting from the bakery next to the café that from then onwards would sicken her. Ears ringing and breath shaky, she closed her eyes, only to be presented with images of blackened limbs and bloodied faces.

"Hey? You okay?" She gasped and whirled around when his hand rested on her shoulder. "You're pale, and shaking. What's wrong?" Her hand was clutching the folded cotton on the shelf.

"I had forgotten that I left these here."

"Your fatigues?" He frowned at a stain that looked suspiciously like blood someone had attempted to wash out too late. He was not aware that Ziva had ever been injured majorly when she was in the IDF, could not recall any scars across her chest that would have led to the bloom of blood across the front of the shirt. "Whose…?"

"Tali. It was my last day in the IDF. We had been held up on a mission and I was on my way to meet Tali before joining our parents. I should not even have left to see her, but I, we, were all given special decompensation because of being held up. I was walking down the road, and she was sat at a table outside the café, waving, when…" she closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

"It's okay. I understand."

"She was my little sister, Tony. She was going to go off and sing in the opera." Her voice was choked up with tears and all he could do was wrap his arms around her and press his lips to her temple.

"Hadar, I do not need a bodyguard!" Ziva snapped as they fought over who was to drive to dinner. "Stay with Nettie and enjoy her cooking."

"No, Ziva. Your father is not the only one who has accrued enemies over the years. You have too. A meeting between yourself and your father creates one of the biggest targets for any of your common enemies. And I will not take the risk of not protecting you whilst you have the baby with you," there was a pause as Ziva mulled his argument over, about to object when he stated his second reason. "And, what happens if the dinner goes badly? I hardly expect Mr DiNozzo to be able to navigate himself back here and I can guarantee that you will be in no state to drive whilst with Aalijah in the car if it goes badly. So you will need me to drive. Not only this, but your father is expecting me to follow you everywhere for your entire time here. If you turn up to meet him and I am not there, it will reflect poorly on my behalf."

She bowed her head, nodding. "You may drive, Hadar."

"Which one swayed you?" There was a curiosity to his tone.

"I pitied being in your shoes when my father finds out you were not there." Not an out-and-out lie – she would have pitied him if her father was to find out he had not obeyed his orders – but she also did not like the sudden idea of dinner with her father not going well, not in the sense that they were attacked, but more in the sense of her father being, well, her father. Eli David would never change from who is always was. And Hadar was right that there was no way Tony would be able to find his way back to Nettie's if she was in a bad state.

"Let me ask you something, Agent DiNozzo. What is it that makes you think it is acceptable for you to get my daughter pregnant and then not do her the honour of marrying her?"

"Aba, please-"

"No, it's okay, Ziva," Tony shook his head. "Sir, I asked Ziva if she wanted to marry me. I did offer. I would marry her in a heartbeat if that was what she wanted. But we discussed it and came to the conclusion that it was best for all parties involved that we should not marry, not at the moment, at least. That does not mean we are not committed to one another, we are, we just do not feel that marriage is appropriate, nor necessary, at this point in time. We have a beautiful baby girl, and there is enough love in our small family for a unit twice the size, and, I know for myself at least, I am happy, and I hope Ziva is too."

"Is this true, Ziva? You turned down his proposal?"

"Ken, Aba," she nodded, looking down to her plate. She felt his eyes roaming her face before he gave a satisfied hum.

"Well then, I cannot blame you for what my Ziva refuses to do. When she makes up her mind, she does not let go."

"You don't have to tell me," Tony smiled, relief flooding through him like a tsunami with the realisation that he was not going to be tortured by Ziva's father.

"They seem to be getting on," Eli nodded over to where Hadar and Tony were stood laughing by the car outside.

"Tony likes to have older role-models – father figures. He does not get on with his own father particularly well, he was absent for most of Tony's childhood. I think Hadar has fit his ideal pretty well. Though Hadar has always struck me as more of an uncle, really…"

"Well that is probably because he spends so much time around Nettie. How is your aunt?"

"She still loathes you."

"No change there, then."

"Wishes my mother had never met you."

"Typical."

"But then, if you had never met my mother, I would not be here today."

"So, really, she should be thanking me – if I had not met her sister, she would be a lonely old spinster with no relatives at all."

"Aba," she scolded, "Nettie probably would have married and had children of her own if she had not been worrying about Ima and us all of the time." She did not mention the fact that she probably would have married Hadar had her father not gotten in the way. She looked down to the sleeping child in her arms, watching the peaceful look on her daughter's face and for a moment relishing in the peacefulness surrounding them.

"You know, the day you were born I was supposed to be working. I was waiting at the airport for a flight to London. But then I got a phone call from Amit. Your Ima had gone into labour. He would phone me again when the baby was born - he always said baby, you know: not child. I was going to get on my flight, but it just felt wrong. So I caught a taxi back home. You were fifteen minutes old when I walked through the door – a head full of dark hair and big, clear eyes. That was the happiest day of my life."

After taking a moment to absorb the story she looked up at his old face. "I never knew that."

"Well, the only person who would vouch for me out of the people there would be Amit, and the only times you would discuss such things would be around your aunt, and I doubt Nettie would entertain such ideas of me being there." He shrugged. "I am… I hope you know that I am proud of you, Ziva. You followed your dreams. You live in America. You have made so much of your life. And you have a beautiful daughter."

"She is," Ziva smiled, unable to say anything more to the unexpected praise. "Would… I mean… do you want to hold her?"

"They seem to be getting on," Tony murmured, looking anywhere but through the window at his daughter, Ziva and her father.

"I think Eli is trying to redeem himself. He has made many mistakes over the years, most detrimental to his relationship with Ziva. He is getting old and he regrets that."

"Regrets getting old or-"

"Regrets ruining things between himself and his only living child. He keeps a photo of her in his desk drawer. There is one of her as a child on his desk, one that I believe Ziva keeps, too, but there is one of her as an adult, possibly a surveillance image from when she first moved to the US. I think sometimes he needs reminding of how much she has achieved."

"Then why not just keep it on his desk?"

"Because he believes it is unprofessional. Having a photo of your children when they were actually children is all very well, but having a photo of one of your officers – it is a whole different kettle of fish in his eyes."

"But most people know that Ziva is his daughter at Mossad, don't they?"

"Of course they do, he just does not think it is right. Eli's moral code can be...difficult to understand at first-"

"You can say that again."

"-But to him it makes sense, and it is the code he has lived by all of his life."

"I think that went well."

"You have been practicing that speech in front of the mirror, have you not?" Ziva smirked.

"No. Well, maybe just once or twice," he shrugged. "I just knew it was a question that was going to come up and I thought I should be prepared for it."

"I am glad you were. I was worried he would be…him," she frowned. "I am surprised, really. I have never seen him like this before."

"Perhaps Aalijah's presence softened him," Tony suggested as they walked to Hadar's car.

"I almost certainly think you are right, Mr DiNozzo," Amit said as he walked up behind them, unlocking the car. "Back to Nettie's?"

"Can we take the route by the sea?"

"Of course."

Grains of warm sand, slowly cooling now the sun had set, slipped between the toes of their bare feet as they walked along the beach, the high tide lapping at the shore a few yards from them. Hadar followed twenty paces behind, occasionally picking up handfuls of sand and letting them fall like an hourglass. "Tony, I need to ask you something."

"Anything. You know that," he smiled at her, shifting Aalijah in his arms.

"I…I want to know if you are, honestly and truthfully, okay with not getting married."

"I thought we had already discussed this. Look, don't let anything your dad said upset you or anything. We're doing what's right for us."

"No," she shook her head, "we are doing what is right for me. I never asked whether you actually wanted to marry me."

Tony stopped, sighed and sat down on the sand, looking out towards the ocean. He dug his feet into the sand and lay their daughter against his thighs, playing with her little toes. Ziva stood next to him, frowning at his sudden halt, until he looked up at her and patted the sand next to him. When she was settled he took a breath and began, slowly, to talk, choosing his words wisely. "I am…okay…with not marrying you. I understand and accept that that is what you want, and I do agree that it is not necessary, for us or Aalijah, for us to be married. But, being okay with not marrying you does not mean that do not want to marry you, because I do."

"Well, then, we can get married. You should not just go along with what I want just because it will make me happy, if it does not also make you happy."

He shook his head. "No, Ziva. We shouldn't get married."

"But you just said-"

"I just said that, one day, I would like to marry you. But not now. Not today. Maybe not ever. Gibbs will say that marriage is a compromise-"

"I do not think he would. I think he would say that marriage is messy."

"Well, I want Gibbs to say that marriage is a compromise. But the one thing I don't think should be a compromise is marriage itself."

"I do not understand that."

"I mean that I don't want to have to compromise over whether we get married. I only want to get married when we both want to get married. Not because you do not want me to be disappointed, because I could never be disappointed in you. Never." He shook his head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't know about you, Ziva, but I think that what we have now is pretty great. We have a surprisingly stable relationship, an amazing little girl, your father doesn't want to kill me and we have Gibbs' approval. We're good as we are."

"I agree. Although, I think you are wrong about one thing. We are not pretty great, I think we are amazing."

He laughed quietly and nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her to him. "I love you."

"I know." He smiled softly, looking down at Aalijah as she cooed.

And then his jaw dropped. "McGee gave you a copy of Star Wars to watch when you were on maternity leave, didn't he?"

I had this Jewish boyfriend and I used his grandmother as my inspiration for Nettie. I honestly think I loved her more than I loved him – I spent more time with her, at any rate. Her kitchen was one of my favourite places in the world because it was always warm and it always smelt so good.

Well, I guess that is all, folks. Maybe we will meet again over another story. Maybe we will not. I guess it all just depends upon whether the sun rises tomorrow and whether I continue to write down my ramblings. I think I probably will, much like I think the sun will probably rise tomorrow. But we can never really know. We just have to take it on faith.