They are a normal family now.

Mom, Dad, and daughter. The three points of the triangle are finally connected.

It had been six weeks since Ziva came home. Six long weeks.

They are growing.

The are changing.

They are healing.

Healing as an adverb. A doing word, Ziva had said when she was helping Tali with her homework the other day.

Ziva had sat next to Tali in their cramped Parisian apartment, their knees touching, Tali getting more frustrated as the minutes ticked on. The smell of Tony's spaghetti bolognase wafting through the apartment, while Tony hummed an old Sinatra song. Ziva reminded herself that she fought for this.

To be a family.

To be with them.

Now, they've gone away for the weekend. Something Tony had visions of the three of them doing often. When trips were not to find answers or hide from threats.

What's the point of living in Europe if we don't explore a little? Tony had said as they took the two metro trains to get to the Gare Du Nord.

He had announced the trip by presenting them Tali and Ziva with packed bags and train tickets, when Ziva walked through the door with Tali and the chicken she planned to cook for dinner.

The train leaves in two hours, Tony had said, as he directed Tali to her bedroom to change.

There had been weight in those words uttered on the metro filled with commuters and other people with similar plans of going somewhere else for the weekend. Paris would not be their forever home. Tony missed America, and Ziva wanted to make up for lost time with those who had mourned for her.

But, they had both decided that it would be too much for Tali to have her mother back, and also move cities. Especially during the school year, when it had been so hard to settle Tali into school. She was a resilient child, but there was only so much she could take.

She had already taken on more than any kid should.

They needed some time and some space to work out, how to be a family unit. A unit of three.

Tony had organised a surprise trip to Bruges for the end of February. He had visions of a late winter wonderland in a place that looked like a storybook land, only for it to be rained out. Tony was adamant that the rain would not ruin their trip.

Tony had not planned for Ziva to be on edge for the whole weekend. It started as soon as she took her seat on the train. Tony and Tali had slept on the evening train, but Ziva could not. She had her eyes locked on the door between the carriages.

For the last six weeks Ziva had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She had spent to long on the run for it to be over.

As soon as the train reached Brussels, Ziva felt the familiar prickling of her skin. The station was crowded, and they only had ten minutes to make the second smaller train to Bruges. Tony picked up a still sleeping Tali, and Ziva took the bags.

The station was busy, and there was a long line of people making the same train connection. Young childfree professionals with their rolling suitcases and expensive dry clean only clothes. Smelly backpackers with their huge brightly coloured bags. The crowds were everywhere. Ziva held onto Tali's limp hand as Tony led them through the station.

You are with Tony, you are with Tali she told herself. You are safe. They are safe.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Her ears started to ache.

Here Ziva, Tony said as they reached the second train.

Then came the dizziness.

You okay, Tony asked as they took their seats. Tali stirred but did not wake.

I am fine, Ziva said a lie. This was not the place to have the conversation.

She had put so much on Tony these last few years. She could not put this on him too.

They were trying to be a family. They were going to make family memories. Ziva could not ruin that.

She had already ruined so much.

The low level anxiety stayed with her. It stole her sleep. It made her shoulders ache, and her jaw clench. It followed her as the family roamed the rain drenched streets of Bruges. A darker cloud than any in the sky.

Tali was distracted by this new place, much more interested in the cities chocolate history, than the pretty buildings that Tony liked.

The rain sodden streets of Bruges were a perfect place for the panic strike. Tali was running ahead, admiring the streets that looked like something out of a fairytale. They were supposed to be looking for Choco-Story, the chocolate museum. They were going to watch chocolate being made. Tali was buzzing with excitement.

She had her father's sweet tooth.

"It's just like Shrek, Daddy," Tali said as she skipped along. Her curls bouncing under her bright yellow rain jacket "Like Duloc."

Of course Tali's frame of reference was movies.

Like father like daughter.

Tali darted around a corner. Tony followed behind her. Splashing a puddle as he did. Tali's panda shaped backpack bouncing on his shoulder.

When Ziva packed those Tali still needed diapers. Now, it was mostly snacks and her special water bottle.

There was a screech of tyres. Cries in so many different languages. An Australian tourist letting out an expletive filled sentence in English.

"Tali," Tony called out. His voice loud over everything else.

Ziva's heart jumped into her throat, and she rushed around the corner. Her feet heavy on the pavement.

She could not lose them.

Not after everything.

She turned the corner. Tony had his arms wrapped around Tali, rubbing her back. The car was stopped in front of the crossing. An old lady was being helped up by passers by.

They were okay. Tali was okay.

Ziva's heart was still in her mouth. Her ears were ringing.

She could have lost them. She should have made Tali hold her hand. She should never have let her go.

She should never have abandoned her.

What kind of mother abandoned her daughter?

She was a terrible mother.

Her breaths were heavy. She had to heave them up through her chest.

She tried to remember what the doctor google told her do when it got this bad. She had told herself that once things settled down she was going to make an actual doctors appointment. She would also actually explain all of this to Tony.

Deep breaths. In and out.

Close your eyes.

Go to your happy place. Her happy place, was mere feet away.

She had nearly lost her happy place.

"Ziva," a voice called out. Breaking through the ringing.

"Ima," Tali's little voice called out.

Another person came near Ziva. Someone Ziva did not recognise. A middle aged lady dressed in a sensible rain jacket. Ziva held out her hands in defence. The lady and her white haired husband stepped back. This was not their circus.

She had to keep her family safe. At whatever cost to her.

Her vision was blurring.

"Ima," Tali cried out again. Her voice was high pitched and fear tinged.

The panic was contagious. The one person she had wanted to protect from it was infected.

Ziva wanted to spare her daughter from her demons. Now, she caused them in her.

Are you going to leave again? Tali asked her almost every night when they did bedtime.

No, Ziva said.

Do you promise? Tali would her ask. Her five and a half year old legs sticking out from the pajamas Tony had only just bought for her.

I promise, Ziva said every night. I am never leaving you again.

And every morning when Tali got up, Ziva would watch when Tali first saw Ziva. The relief would wash over her. Every time Tali closed her eyes, she feared her mother would not be there when she woke up.

Sometimes, Tali even crept into Tony and Ziva's room in the middle of the night, just be sure Ziva was still there.

Every time Ziva had left Tali, she was asleep.

When she handed her to Adam in that crowded market.

When she snuck out of that Cairo safehouse, as the sun dawned, because could not face the idea of saying goodbye to them again.

Her heart could not take it. It was already so fractured.

At least she had warned Tony what she was going to do. So he could deal with the fallout, of Tali realising her mother was gone again.

You are a terrible mother, her thoughts voices were loud. You abandoned your daughter.

Tony's hand was in front of her. Protecting her.

"She's okay," Tony told the well meaning bystanders. "Thank you."

Ziva blinked a few times. The street came back into view. The car was still stopped on the crossing. The old lady was standing up. The noise had died down. It was all rather calm.

There were police sirens in the distance. There were so many voices in so many different languages in the background.

"Ima's okay," Tony said as he took Tali's hand.

Tali's lip was quivering. Big gloopy tears fell down her face.

Ziva felt her own damn break. A few seconds later, she tasted the salt of tears.

"Come on Tali," Tony said. "It's okay. Ima was just scared. She couldn't see us, and the car screech was very loud. She thought something bad had happened."

Tony moved closer. Tali moved closer.

Arms wrapped around Ziva. Tony's arms. Tali's little hands reached for Ziva.

"It's okay," Tony said, as Ziva buried her head in his chest. "The old lady slipped on the road, and the car had to stop suddenly. It was a near miss. That's all."

A near miss.

It had been so close.

"I am sorry," she whispered. Tali squeezed her tight. "I could not see you. I heard the car. I thought."

She could not lose them now.

"It's okay," Tony whispered. His voice soft. "We're all okay. It's over."

The other bystanders were focused on other things. The police had arrived to talk to the driver, and the old lady was being helped into an ambulance. The Australian tourists were talking loudly about finding a pub.

Bruges was known for its beer as well as its chocolate.

Ziva looked down at her daughter, who was squished between her parents legs. She unlatched herself from Tony, and bent down so she was at Tali's level.

"I am so sorry, Tali," Ziva whispered. "I was scared. I did not want you to be upset."

Tali nodded slowly. Suddenly the years fell back. Tali was smaller, and chubbier.

Ziva was in the farmhouse, with Tali on her lap. They were holding a photo from Paris. Ziva pointed to the man in the picture.

Abba, Ziva said as Tali studied the familiar picture. You are going to live with Abba now. Abba loves you so much.

Tali had nodded as she looked at the tiny picture.

Abba, Tali repeated.

"I am so sorry," Ziva repeated again, as she looked at her daughter's face.

Quickly, Tali's arms wrapped around Ziva's neck, and the child squeezed. She squeezed Ziva tight. Ziva felt her breath hitch, because of the five year old squashing her. Ziva buried her nose in Tali's curls, the ones she had wrestled into pigtails that morning.

She was so sorry for keeping Tali from Tony.

She was so sorry for being gone for so long.

She was so sorry for all the pain she had caused.

"We're okay," Tony said again. "Aren't we Tali?"

Tali broke the hug, and looked to her father, and gave him a nod.

"I'm hungry," Tali announced.

They had only had lunch an hour ago.

Ziva pulled herself up, and tried to ignore the pain in her knees. Her old injuries could no longer be ignored.

"You know what kid," Tony said, as he adjusted the day pack on his shoulder. "So am I"

Like father like daughter.

Tali gripped Ziva's hand tight, as Tony looked for a cafe.

After a sweet afternoon snack, they took Tali to the chocolate museum, but there was not the delight that they had expected when she watched the chocolate being made. Tali kept looking back to her parents, especially back to her mother.

Are you okay, Ima? Tali asked, every few minutes.

Ziva had never wanted this. She had wanted to protect her daughter.

Even if it meant protecting her daughter from herself.

Ziva told her daughter yes every time, but Tali still expected the answer to be no.

Because Ima had been so scared.

Bedtime had been trying. Tali had needed lots of reassurance. Tony and Ziva were prepared for a bumpy night.

Tony had lined the borrowed bed, with a plastic sheet he had brought from a local shop.

Tali's bed wetting had come back since Ziva had come home.

There had been many bumpy nights since Ziva had come home. Especially with the Mommy and Me nightmares, with poor exhausted Tony caught in the middle.

The dark circles around Tony's eyes were almost permanent.

He was such a patient man.

"I know you will want to talk about what happened," Ziva announced, as she slipped out of bedroom they had put Tali in. Ziva had waited until Tali had gone to sleep to leave.

She had needed to be sure that her daughters sleep would be peaceful. For now.

Tony was sitting at the dining table of the holiday rental, with the beer he had brought on the way home, because that was the closest to the beer scene of Bruges he was going to get. The dinner dishes were in front of him. They had done sandwiches and veggies for dinner, because they were all still full from their afternoon snacks.

Tony had been quiet all afternoon too.

Both parents had focused on Tali, because she mattered more than anything.

Tony patted the space next to him, and took a long sip of his beer. Ziva sat down next to him, and picked at the carrot sticks that Tali had made no attempt to eat.

And, tonight was no time to try and get Tali to eat her vegetables.

"I know you told me about the anxiety," he said softly.

There had been so many late night conversations while Tali was asleep. Trying to catch up on the last three years.

Trying to make up for lost time.

Trying to make sense of it all. They had always been complicated, but this took the cake.

When she had told him about the anxiety, she had used the past tense. It was over now, just like the threat.

"I thought it was over," Ziva said softly, as she broke the carrot stick in half. "The first time it happened was when I had to send Tali away. I thought that now that I am back, that it would go away."

It was simplistic logic, but Ziva needed to be rid of the panic, so she could be the best mother.

She could not bring old demons into her new life.

Tony's hand reached out for hers. He squeezed her hand.

The grey was coming through his hair. Tony was starting to look like Senior.

"I am so sorry," Ziva said.

Tony squeezed her hand again.

He was quieter these days. More still. More cautious.

"I should have thought about it more, when I booked the trip," Tony whispered, as he rubbed her knuckles. "Maybe, it was too soon to do this."

Ziva sucked in a breath.

"Tali said you two used to go on lots of adventures," Ziva whispered. "I knew you are trying to keep things normal for her."

Tony looked down at the table.

"Yeah," he said. "Not too far, but I dunno I wanted her to be a good traveller. In case we had to go somewhere quickly, she'd kinda think it was an adventure, and not be scared, but you know her she's good at reading people. She knew something was up."

Ziva felt the familiar churn of her stomach.

She had asked so much of him.

She had made him put his life on hold.

"I wish things had been different," Ziva whispered.

Tony shook his head.

"Ziva," he dragged out. "We said we would not think like that."

She knew he had to try hard to bury his resentment. Often their late night talks, were about Tali and what she was like before Tony met her. He had his hypotheses about her, but he wanted to know if Tali really had been quick to walk, but slow to talk. Whether she had been a messy eater like she was now. Whether she had always been so difficult to settle into sleep, but once she was down she usually slept for ages.

If I had known, he often said, trying to keep his tone neutral.

I know, Ziva replied, placing her hands on his face. I know.

"It's been a big couple of months," Tony said. "We're all adjusting. We're all making sense of things."

In the story books they read to Tali, there is always a happy ending.

But, what happens after the happy ending?

What happens when the Princesses mother returns and the Princess doesn't know how to react?

What happens when the King and Queen, who never got a chance to be properly together, suddenly share a tiny apartment with their Princess?

What happens when the Queen is still hurting from her time away?

"I will try harder," Ziva said, as she looked toward the room that Tali was sleeping in. "I know it scared her, seeing me like that."

"It scared me too," Tony said, his voice cracking.

Ziva turned to look at him. Her mouth is suddenly sandpaper.

"I am sorry," she whispered, as she reached for him.

She had hurt him so many times.

Why did he keep letting her back?

Tony looked at her.

"I didn't know what to do," Tony said, as he ran his tongue over his lips. "I just wanted to make it better for you."

Hadn't he always.

"You did," Ziva said, as she rubbed his hand. "Thank you for being so patient with me."

Tony took the last sip of his beer, and moved the bottle so that he could place both hands on hers.

"Do you remember that card, Tali's school gave us?" Tony asked.

Tali told all of her school friends about her mother coming home when they had come back from their 'winter holiday' a week into the school term. The teachers at Tali's international school were used to some interesting characters among its parents, but a parent who came back from the dead was a new one, and one of Tali's classmates was the secret son of a geriatric rock star.

When it turned out that Tali's back from the dead mother was not a childhood fantasy, when Tony took Ziva to the office to put her on the list of people who could pick Tali. Tony and Ziva were pulled into an office with the schools in-house psychologist. Apparently, the fancy school Tony used Eli David's blood money to pay for, had one of those.

This is a big transition for Tali, the doctor had said her words accented with an accent Tony could not place. Something Scandanavian.

Oh yeah, we know, Tony had said, as Ziva dug her fingers into his wrist.

A card was pushed along the table, with a child psychologist who specialises in family reunification, deep in the suburbs of Paris.

We had a father who came back into their child's life last year, there were a few adjustment issues, the doctor said, we will keep an eye on Tali.

You are a terrible mother, the chorus in her head started as they sat in that office, the room getting smaller and smaller with each passing minute. You are deadbeat mother.

Tony had slid the card into his pocket, and they had never talked about it again.

"I know we've been trying to do this by ourselves," Tony said, as he let out a sigh. "But, it's not just us now. We've gotta do right by Tali. We can't screw this up."

Ziva nodded.

"I do not know how we will explain our situation to the psychologist," Ziva said. "It will not be something she has seen before."

Tony sighed, and rubbed his hand over his face.

"I know," Tony said, "Maybe, we should at least make an appointment. I think we need to talk to someone. You said that there's a shrink that works with the team now, she might know someone. Or we could skype her, she'd definitely get it."

"Jack Sloane," Ziva said, even though it wasn't really relevant. "She is too close to the team."

They had stayed in Paris for now, because they needed to heal together.

"Okay," Tony said slowly. "I guess, it doesn't really matter who we talk to, but we do need to talk to someone. There's no handbook for our situation."

Ziva looked at him. Taking in all of him.

He was older. He was wiser.

She had messed everything up again.

"You are right," Ziva said.

Tony sighed.

"I really didn't want to be," Tony said, as he looked toward the closet sized bedroom Tali was in. The child was still asleep, mercifully. "Tali and I wanted you home for such a long time."

Everything Ziva had done had been to get back to them.

"I wanted to be home," Ziva said softly. "I had to keep you safe."

Tony patted her hand.

"I know," he said. "I know we both wanted everything to be happy, but we've just gotta work through these teething issues, before the mess gets too big to clean up."

Ziva nodded.

Trauma has a way of staying with you, Jack Sloane had told Ziva when they were alone in a conference room.

And, it felt as if Ziva had built her life on the rubble of traumatic events.

"I want us to keep going on these adventures," Ziva said as she looked toward Tali's door again. "Tali needs that stability. I will manage myself for her. She will not see me like that again."

All of this had been for Tali.

"We're not just gonna manage," Tony said, "We're gonna thrive. All three of us."

And, thrive they would.

All three of them.

A/N:

I don't own a thing.

So, I wanted to write something cute and fluffy, but I ended up with this. In my defence, the country I live in is currently on fire. My area is safe, but the flames got mighty close. So, the muse is a little angsty. Angsty enough to write nearly 4k words.

This fic also started life as a completely different one, inspired by me own anxiety flaring up at a farmers market. That iteration of the fic may see the light of day one day.

One thing I do hope NCIS addresses at least in a passing comment as MW and CdP are not regulars, is our little family of three getting some trauma counseling. Maybe Jack could mention passing on some details on to Ziva.

Also, I'm glad that Tony and Ziva have already met up in Cairo. It would have been too heartbreaking to have Tony be completely in the dark.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Reviews are love.