Okay, so remember at the end of Engaged (Part 2) when Tony goes to the nursery and he is standing there surrounded by all the little children? No? Well, you should, because it is one of the cutest scenes I have ever seen, and it is funny. And I have this idea every time I watch it, but I have never actually written it down. Until now, that is…

Story Time

Special Agent Ziva David sat at her desk and watched her partner as they worked. It was Friday evening, and without any active cases, that meant typing up cold cases and entering them into the system. Possibly her least favourite part of the job. So, instead of doing the work she was supposed to be doing, she resorted to, what some may call an obsession, of hers; watching Anthony DiNozzo. She would try and pick out something new about him that she had never noticed before, the way he would bob his head slightly when trying to figure out the spelling of a particularly difficult word or the way his brow furrowed slightly when he misread something. She was surprised that she still could, after all these years of sitting and watching him when no-one else was looking, find things that she had never noticed before.

Theirs was a curious – and complicated – relationship; somewhere stuck between best friends, arch nemeses and old married couple. They had had their ups, along with many downs, and sometimes it felt like the downs outweighed the ups so much that really, there was nothing good in the relationship at all, only petty bickering and big rows. Not that their relationship was sexual – or not at that precise moment, anyway. They had spent the odd night together, Paris to name but one, had had an almost-romantic couple of months, many years ago now, which had evolved from their need of the support and comfort of having the other's arms around them to something more. But that had failed when she had chosen Gibbs over him to save her. She had been trying to protect him, of course, but he still took it as a sign of betrayal, that she still could not trust him enough. That was not true – she could trust him with everything – and deep down they both knew it, but she had been through a lot, and her trust was something that was difficult to gain and easy to lose.

They still had that spark, the flame that drove the flirting and the banter, and frequently ignited the jealousy fuelled fights that could go on for days until someone – usually Gibbs – intervened. And there was still tension. Their eyes would still lock on occasion and they would both flash back to hot summer nights with the air conditioning on full and the bed linen on the floor in a tangled heap, next to the messy pile of clothes that had been discarded in the passion of the moment, no care to whether buttons would have to be stitched back on hastily in the morning, only to be pulled off again the next time the shirt was worn.

She would deny that she had hoped they could become something more, that they could have something that they did not have to try and hide from their co-workers and colleagues, something with a proper future, but she would be lying. She would, when asked if she still loved him, or even if she ever had at all, reply with the negative – it was just a fling, there was nothing in it, they were just releasing built up tension – but that, too, would be a lie. It had broken her heart when he told her that it was not working, and it was for the best that they stopped before either of them got too involved, too emotionally attached to one another, because she had already allowed herself to get too involved, he just had not seen it. He had broken her heart when he had, not even a week later, started dating again, and started keeping secrets from her.

Since then it had been secrets galore, almost as if each year they took it in turns to keep a big secret from the other. And they both knew from experience that the big secret would, when revealed, cause mass destruction to both of their hearts, because each year the other would build themselves up, work so hard to try and form something that could move on to being a proper relationship if they both committed, and then their hopes would be shattered in one fell swoop.

So when she noticed that at 1725h on the dot he looked at his watch and jumped up, grabbing his bag and announcing he was done for the night, she was conflicted, to say the least. She had thought that they had been doing so well for not having any secrets this year, but he had not told them he had any plans, a very un-Tony-like act, if ever there was one. And he had been the same every Friday for the past few weeks. She first noticed when she had come back from Afghanistan, she had gone to his apartment, needing someone to talk to, and he had not been there. She had thought that he would have realised from the way she had been looking at work that week that she needed someone to talk to – that was the way it always used to work: one look and they knew exactly what was wrong. She watched as he stepped into the elevator then grabbed her bag and ran to the stairs, knowing that if she was quick she could beat the elevator to the lobby. She made it just in time as the doors dinged and slid open, and three agents walked out. She frowned. No Tony. "Paul, was DiNozzo on this elevator?"

"Er, yeah. Got off on the first floor though."

"Oh. Thank you." She smiled at him and he nodded. She watched as he walked over to the other two agents who had disembarked the lift and knew that in the morning there would be fresh scuttlebutt being administered throughout the office. She would never understand why people could not just keep to their own business.

She contemplated as she took the elevator up to the second floor what he could be doing there. She could not think of a single thing that Tony could be so interested in on the second floor. To tell the truth, she had never been to the second floor, barely knew what was there. She was aware of a few conference rooms near the elevator, but other than that she could not recall even the layout of the second floor. She had not exactly been given the guided tour when she first arrived, and when she returned a few weeks later she was not welcomed with open arms. And somehow over the almost seven years of working there, she had never needed to go down there, never needed to go further than the places that she had been shown to, or at least directed to. Surprisingly, she had never had the overwhelming desire to scout the place out; she felt comfortable there, there was no need to learn every alcove and every crawl space, no need to learn where all the quickest exits were if she needed to get out undetected. After checking each room, searching for her wayward partner, she discovered that by not knowing about this floor, she was not missing out on much. Just conference rooms and interview rooms like on their level. A bathroom. A break-room. A bullpen, starting to empty. She walked to the last unexplored corridor. If Tony was still on this floor, he would have to be down there. She cleared each room, finding more offices and supply closets, until she reached the last door. This door was different. It had a window and loud sounds were emanating from it. She heard peels of laughter as she inched closer. The suspense finally got too much and she gave up on the slow approach, walking straight over and looking through the little porthole. She was surprised to see her partner standing, a human climbing frame, as a group of three children hung off his arms and shoulders, laughing and squealing in delight. Other kids ran around and sat on the floor around him.

She could not believe her eyes as he seemed to re-enact a story, the children joining in. Even in her fantasies of a future with Tony, her idea of him with children was always slightly blurred. She had never been able to fully picture how he would act around children of his own. Over the years they had worked with many children, but Tony had never easily interacted with them. She guessed it would be something like what she was witnessing now, reacting with other people's children.

And then the question that should have been the first thing she asked floated into her mind after the shock started to recede. Why was he spending his Friday evening in a room full of children?

"Agent David? I didn't know that you had children?"

"What?!" She whipped around, frowning at the agent that looked mildly familiar.

"Well, you wouldn't be here if you didn't have children, would you?" She laughed, confusion filling her face.

"Where exactly is here? What is this room?"

"It's daycare. A crèche." The other agent looked at her incredulously. "Where people send their kids when they work."

"Oh. Right."

"So if you don't have kids, what are you doing here?"

"I was, er…" Following my partner, because I am jealous of what ever it is that he dashes off to every Friday? Yeah, not going to go down well. "Er, I was looking for DiNozzo."

"You're partners, aren't you? So what's that like?"

"He is a very good agent, very competent. And a good friend. He is loyal. He can be a pain sometimes, messing about and being childish, but that is what makes him, him."

"But what's he like in bed?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Well, you've obviously slept together, I mean, he's Tony DiNozzo. Surely you can't be telling me you haven't fallen into bed with him at least once?"

"Er, no. No we have not. We are just partners." She drew on all of her training to lie easily. Maybe she could try and dispel some of the rumours that weren't entirely false that had been spread around the office for years.

"You have thought about it though, haven't you?"

"No. No. He is my partner." She shook her head. "No. Never."

"Everyone wonder's what it would be like with their partner once or twice." She grinned and winked. "Heck, I married my partner. Of course, I transferred to another team, but still…anyway, I need to…" She pointed through the window, indicating one of the children. She looked back to Tony. "He is dreamy, isn't he? And so good with the kids. The woman who marries him will be very lucky indeed."

"Yes. Yes, she will." Ziva nodded and stepped out of the way so the other agent could go in and collect her son. The sound of the door opening momentarily brought Tony's attention away from the children that were clambering all over him and he looked up, catching Ziva's eye through the window. He frowned and tilted his head, trying to fathom why she might be there. He carefully lowered the children to the floor and walked over, stepping outside and smiling slightly.

"I didn't know you had kids, Agent David." His tone was joking, covering up his intrigue as to why she could be there.

"I do not, and you know I do not." She looked away, blushing slightly as he stared down at her curiously.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." She dodged easily.

"Chaplain Burke brought me here other week, you know, face my fears and all, and the kids were actually kinda cute when they're not covering your Armani suit in paint and then I was talking to one of the lovely ladies who works here and they said that they were always really short staffed on Friday nights because it was outside of normal working hours, but there are still agents who have to work on cases and things, like we do, so I offered to volunteer. Now, why are you here?"

"I…I…"

"You were following me. Why?"

"I wondered where you keep disappearing off to, because the last time you were acting like this was the La Grenouille case, and I was worried that you were involved in something that would end badly again." She was not going to tell him about their sudden lack of secrets this year, because she was concerned that might jinx it, not that she believed in such stuff, but just in case, she would not mention it.

"Just volunteering. Nothing sinister." He smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Come meet the kids. We're about to have story time. You can join us."

"Oh, no, I should really be getting home, I mean I…"

"No is not an option, Agent David. I think they'll like you."

"Tony, I do not think I am very good with children." She shook her head, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her through into the colourful room full of squealing kids.

"Bye, bye, Tony." A little boy waved as he walked out with the agent whom Ziva had been talking to outside.

"See-ya Noah." He grinned. "Linda, this is my partner Agent David. Is it okay if she sits in on story time?"

"Of course. The more the merrier, as I always say." Linda was a short, plump woman with a round face and dimples when she smiled. Her eyes were bright and sparkling and her hair was cut in a short pixie cut. "Story time. Whose turn is it to choose the book today, I wonder? Shall we have a look on the tree?" She walked over to a tree painted onto the wall and looked to Tony. "Shall we get Tony to choose a leaf for us?" There was a chorus of cheers and Tony walked over, ceremoniously plucked a laminated paper leaf off the wall and turned it over, reading the name.

"Mona, your turn to pick the book." He announced and a little girl with almost white curly hair ran over to a shelf of books. She picked out one without even looking, and Ziva could tell she had done it before. All the children sat in a circle on the floor. One girl, dressed in pink corduroy dungarees, with her long dark hair in two braids, took Ziva's hand and led her to a spot in the circle, opposite from where she was going to sit next to Tony.

"First of all, this is Tony's friend Ziva. Can we all say hello to Ziva?"

"Hello, Ziva." Thirteen of the fourteen children said. The one who stayed silent was Mona, and she had sat on the carpet next to Tony, hiding behind him slightly.

"Are we all sitting comfortably? Then let's begin." Said Linda, smiling, as she opened the book and held it up to show everyone the pictures. "Voices in the park…"

Ziva watched, enchanted, as everyone read the memorable parts of the story along with Linda. Tony caught her eye and smiled. The little blonde girl, Mona, kneeled up and whispered in his ear. "Ziva's very pretty."

"She is, isn't she?" He grinned and nodded, not taking his eyes away from the gentle blush that was rising on Ziva's cheeks as he continued to stare at her.

"Do you love her?" He turned his head to look at the quiet child.

"Can you keep a secret, Mona?" He knew she could. Mona only asked questions, rarely answered them. It was the only time she would talk, to ask questions. She simply nodded and he smiled. "I think I might. But you can't tell anyone, okay?" She bobbed her head again and sank back down to sit on the floor slightly outside of the main circle.

Tony grinned as he entered the brightly coloured room and squeals of his name echoed off the walls. The cast rotated each week on a Friday night, and only three faces were the same as the last week, when Ziva had been there too. One of those faces ran up to him and grabbed onto the bottom of his jacket, pulling him over to a low table and handing him a piece of paper. He looked at it and smiled. In the centre was two adults and fourteen children were drawn in crayon on it, the colours not necessarily accurate to life. Above each of the people were names, misspelt. Above the two adults were 'TONEE' and 'ZEEVA'. He and Ziva were holding hands, with Mona holding his other hand and the girl with the pink dungarees and braids in her hair holding Ziva's other hand. "Can Ziva come again some time?" Mona whispered in her usual hushed tone.

"I'm sure she would love to." He smiled and tucked the drawing into his bag, reminding himself to buy magnets on his way home so he could attach it to his fridge.

I know that the nursery was probably not on the second floor of the NCIS building, but I do not really care, because this is fiction and it is my story and if I want the nursery to be on the second floor of NCIS, then the nursery shall be on the second floor of NCIS.

The book that they read is beautiful. I have been known to cry at it at times. The pictures are also brilliant. If you have never read it, I honestly suggest looking it up on the internet, because it is really a great story.

For my reference: 38th NCIS fic.