Ziva smiled as her little family walked toward the park. It was September, Tali was back at school, and the mornings had started to have a chill on them. Ziva had started sorting through Tali's winter clothes to see if anything would still fit.

Autumn was Ziva's favourite time of year.

Tali whizzed past on her scooter, Ziva felt the word careful rise in her throat but it never came out. She had made a vow never to project her anxiety onto Tali.

Tony was next to her, a picnic blanket under his arm and a canvas tote bag hanging off his good shoulder. Ziva was carrying her backpack, stocked with more food than they could ever eat.

While Ziva enjoyed the cooler weather, with its crisp mornings and orange leaves, Tony was trying to hold onto every last slither of summer.

If he could stop time, he would.

The picnic, planned after they dropped Tali off for her third day of school for the year, was an attempt to extend summer.

He just wanted a few more moments.

Ziva and Tony reached the street corner where Tali was waiting. Her hair hanging out of her helmet, and clashing home clothes Tali had changed into during the ten minutes they returned to their apartment after school pick up. Her mask was still covering everything under her eyes.

Tali took her place between her parents. She offered one hand to Ziva and one hand to Tony. Each took a hand. Tony made a big show of checking the road for cars and cyclists. Ziva did the same.

A car with a dog hanging out the passenger window whizzed last. Then a school of bikes, middle aged men commuting home. Then a taxi with a woman wearing a black face mask looking longingly out of the window.

"Okay," Tony said, his words muffled by his mask. "Let's go."

They crossed the road as a unit. Mother, father and baby. The baby kept safe between her parents. Both of them would do anything to protect her.

They reached the other side of the road, and Tali let go of Tony's hand.

"Ima," Tali started. She clutched onto Ziva's hand.

Ziva knew what Tali wanted to talk about. Since they had returned to Paris after visiting almost every beach town from Nice to Montipeller, Tali wanted to reminisce.

She wanted to talk about the cable car they took in Toulon, and how it felt like they were flying.

She wanted to talk about that time they took a train and they were in Italy, and how Tony had bent down and touched the ground, telling Tali she was in the motherland.

But, Ima's from Israel, Tali had said as they walked into the town center, in search of Italian ice cream.

They ate ice cream almost every day when they were on holiday.

Tali wanted to talk about the castle they saw in Nantes. It was just like the movies. The castle visit had been a last minute addition to the itinerary, after Tali threw up on their way to Lyon. Tony had booked a bed and breakfast in Nantes as a surprise to both of his girls.

And, Ziva wanted to talk about all of it too.

She had loved their vacation.

She had loved holding Tali's hand as she splashed in the sea, the same sea Ziva played in as a child.

She had loved walking around Cannes with Tony, listening as he monologued about the Cannes film festival, and mentioned that he had always wanted to go to one of the big film festivals like Cannes or Sundance. Ziva would hold onto that. They might not be able to go to the Cannes film festival, but she might be able to surprise him with Sundance one year.

She had loved seeing Marseilles as a tourist rather than an operative. The seaside city was beautiful. She loved being able to share that with Tony, who had only ever visited the city for work as well.

Retirement looks good on us, he had said, as they walked back to their holiday apartment. Tali's sea soaked hair dripping down the dress they had hastily pulled over her bathing costume. Tony carried the three of the five bags it now required for the three of them to go to the beach.

It does, she had replied, as her sandals clapped on the cobblestones. She would not call it retirement, she would call it peace.

Ziva David was finally at peace.

And, the peace had been hard won.

There were still times where the panic snuck in, and tried to derail her.

The nightmares. The low lying depression, that she and her therapist thought might be related to her birth control. The fear that had washed over when a wave ripped Tali from her. Then Tali had appeared in front of her, with wet hair, and giggles.

That was fun, let's do it again.

Ziva had and would continue to fight for this peace.

"Ima," Tali said again, her words more urgent. The shuffled toward the park. Tali was dragging her scooter along, and Ziva could see paint flaking off.

"Would you like me to take that Motek?" she asked.

Tali nodded, and they stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Tony, who was a few feet ahead stopped too, and looked at them.

His eyebrow was raised, trying to ask a question.

Ziva gave him a thumbs up and he started moving again.

Ziva lifted the scooter onto her shoulder, glad that it was light.

She had a vision of the empty streets of Tel Aviv on Yom Kippur, and riding those empty streets on her bike. The wind in her hair, because she had deliberately 'forgotten' her helmet, and her mother was too busy to notice.

The high holidays were coming up soon. She would not be able to give Tali the same memories, but she would be able to share the holidays with her family.

She could not wait to do Rosh Hashanah crafts with Tali, on their dining room table, when the forecasted autumn rain fell. She could not wait for the glee on Tony's face when he realised that the holiday meant they had to eat sweet treats.

The thought of Yom Kippur did not cover the same heaviness that it did in previous years. She did not feel the need to atone for her whole life.

She had been forgiven by the people who mattered most.

One day she would forgive herself.

"Ima," Tali said again. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Ziva said.

Knowing that for now Tali's questions were about having an extra serving of icecream or the wider world.

Why do cats meow?

Is the sky sad when it rains?

How old is Daddy?

"What was yours and Daddy's wedding like?" Tali asked.

They were walking through the gate to the park, and Ziva stopped still.

She hadn't been expecting that.

Tony was waiting for them under the tree Tali had declared their favourite tree during their last visit. He had started to lay out the picnic.

Ziva knew where this wedding talk was coming from. So many of the movies Tali watched had an animated wedding as the final scene, and Tali's current best friend Sabine had been in her Aunt's wedding over the summer.

Ziva had never been that little girl. She wanted to play soldiers. Her mother had taken her to a wedding once, when Ziva was a little older than Tali, and during the sit down meal Ziva had been bored out of her mind. Tali's namesake had been more impressed by the pretty dresses and music.

"We are not married," Ziva declared.

A strange sad feeling washed over Ziva as the words came out of her mouth.

If only she had gotten on the plane with him.

Maybe they would be married now.

She wondered what her finger would look like with a gold ring.

"But," Tali stammered. "I'm six."

Six. The tiny baby that saved her the minute she was placed in her arms, was six.

"Yes you are," Ziva said. "You are a big girl."

They reached Tony, who had laid out their picnic, sandwiches with lettuce hanging out. His mask pulled under his chin.

"Did you and Daddy get a divorce?" Tali asked, as she sat down, and took her mask off. Ziva did the same, and watched other people in the park in their own bubbles revealed their faces to take sips of water or careful bites of food.

Tony bit into his sandwich, and raised his eyebrow.

Where had Tali picked up that word?

"What makes you think that?" Tony asked, his mouth still full.

"Flora says when Mums and Dads don't live together it's because they are divorced," Tali said. "She lives here with her Ima, and her Dad lives in London. She gets the train that goes under the sea to see him. She hasn't seen him in a while."

Ziva's heart broke for Tali's school friend. A little girl who knew too much of the adult world.

"We took that train once," Tony said, trying to distract Tali. "To see Abby."

Tali was not so easily distracted.

"But Ima didn't live with us," Tali said. She was getting angry. Her little hands were balled into fists.

Ziva reached for Tali and took her hand. She flattened Tali's fist.

"I know," Ziva said, "I missed you very much when I was not here."

Tali looked down at the sandwich Tony had laid out for her.

"Why?" Tali asked. "Why didn't Ima live with us? You don't fight like Flora's parents."

"No," Tony said. "Ima and I love each other very much, and we have for a long time."

"And we love you most of all," Ziva added.

"We talked about why Ima had to be away," Tony said. "She had to do some important work to keep us and some other people safe."

It was an oversimplification, but Tali was only six, and their story was so complicated.

Tali picked at her sandwich.

"But, why aren't you married?" Tali asked. "When the Prince and Princess love each other very much they get married. You said you love each other lots and lots."

Ziva looked at Tony with an eyebrow raised.

They had been trying to limit the princess movies that Tali saw, but both of them were powerless when Tali whined.

"Yeah," Tony said, with a sigh. "That's usually what happens in the movies, but life isn't always like the movies."

Ziva shot Tony another look.

"But, Moms and Dads are married," Tali said. "They get married and they have babies."

"You do not have to be married to have a baby," Ziva said, "It is nice, but not required. We are not married, but we are still your Ima and Daddy."

"And you love each other very much," Tali uttered, checking in, "And me most of all."

Tali bit into her sandwich.

"That's it," Tony said, as he took a bite of his sandwich. "Besides, maybe one day Ima and I will get married."

Tali's eyes went wide.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes, really?" Ziva said.

They had a six year old, they were far beyond white dresses and arguing about cake samples.

Ziva had never been the little girl who dreamed of her wedding.

Tony had always seemed so adverse to commitment.

"Yes, really," Tony said, "Not right now, but maybe one day."

One day.

Ziva had never depended on happy endings.

"I could be your flower girl," Tali said, "Sabine was her Aunt's flower girl, she got to wear a pretty dress."

How different Tali was from Ziva as a child?

At six Ziva had mud on her dress, and slowly realising that her father was not the man she thought he was.

Tali would never have to come to such a realisation.

Tony would always be her hero.

"Yeah, you could be," Tony said. "We'd get you a very pretty dress."

"But Ima's dress would be prettier," Tali said, "The bride always wears the prettiest dress."

"Yes, they do," Tony said.

Ziva thought of the wedding picture her own mother kept. Rivka and Eli David, standing under a chuppah, happy faces surrounding them. The camera was angled so that Rivka's midriff was hidden. Ziva was already on her way when her parents married.

"What type of dress would you wear?" Tali asked.

Ziva blinked a few times.

Could a mother wear a white dress?

Could a woman who was nearly forty wear something strapless?

"I have never thought about it," Ziva said delicately, "But, I am sure if the time comes, you will help me find a lovely dress."

Most women have their mothers with them, but Ziva would have her daughter.

It would be such a strange scene.

Tali finished her sandwich, and looked toward the play area. This tree was their favourite because it had a perfect view of the playground.

Tali liked to be able to see her parents at all times.

"Can I play?" Tali asked.

Ziva took a careful bite of her sandwich.

"Yeah," Tony said, as he took her plastic plate and put it under his. "You know the system."

Ziva pulled a small bottle of hand sanitiser from the backpack, and squeezed some of the liquid onto her daughters waiting hands.

Tali rubbed her hands together, and they made a squelching sound. The hand sanitizer smelt like cheap alcohol.

Tony pulled Tali's mask from under her chin, and placed it over her mouth and nose tenderly. He bopped her little nose, and she laughed.

Ziva felt that same discomfort she always felt when she saw her daughter in the butterfly print fabric.

How had this become normal?

"All right kiddo," Tony said, "Go have fun, and when we come to get you, playtime is over. Deal."

"Deal," Tali said, as she ran off.

Ziva watched as Tali reached the playground. She studied the other kids, a little boy in a mask with a turtle print, and a pair of twins in matching flower masks.

What a mad world they were living in?

Tony reached into the bag with the food, and picked out one of the boxes, his face fell as he saw the box contained cut up pieces of fruit.

"The cookies are in my bag," Ziva declared, knowing exactly what Tony was looking for.

"Shall we sneak a couple while Tali is busy?" he asked.

Tali was playing with the boy in the turtle mask, a woman waved at Tony and Ziva, and Ziva assumed the woman to be the boy's carer. Under the mask, you could not tell whether she was a mother or a nanny.

They were close enough for Tali to see them eating.

Ziva handed Tony her backpack, and he pulled at the zip, quickly he produced the sleeve of cookies, opened them, and distributed them.

Crumbs fell onto Tony as he ate. Ziva took a small bite from the cookie. She did not love these cookies, brought from the discount supermarket Tony drove out to every few weeks, but she liked sharing them with Tony and Tali.

"Did you mean what you said?" she asked.

She took another nibble on the cookie, and looked at her bare ring finger.

"About what?" he asked.

"Getting married," she said. Her eyes followed Tali, she was going up and down the slide. Her mask was still on.

Ziva's own mask rested under her chin.

Tony's stylish black one, was around his neck like a scarf.

What a strange world?

"Yeah, I did," Tony said. "I want us to get married one day."

Ziva felt a breath hitch in her chest.

The ketubah, the ring, the dress.

Once when she was pregnant, and each night was filled with the strangest dreams, Ziva had dreamed of her and Tony getting married. Ziva's belly round with child in a flowy white dress. Tony holding her hands as they stood under the chuppah.

Then the dream turned nasty. Tony was holding the baby in his arms, with a bag slung over his shoulder.

It is for our safety, we are not safe here, not with you.

She caused nothing but pain. People had to be kept away from her.

"Why?" Ziva asked.

They already had a child, and a home. They were partners in all aspects of life.

"Why?" he echoed.

"Yes why," Ziva said, "We already live like we are married, what would a wedding change?"

Tony chomped into another cookie.

"The ship has left the port," Ziva said. "That is the saying, yes."

"Sailed," he corrected. "The ship has sailed. I know we're not doing things in the traditional order, but I do wanna marry you one day. Not because I want something to change, but because I want to stand up in front of all of our favourite people and tell them how much I love you, and how I want us to be together until my last breath. Because you're totally going to outlive me, and it's kinda selfish but I don't think I could take losing you for real."

Still waters run deep.

"People know that we are together," Ziva said. "We know that we love each other, and will love each other until the end."

Tony nodded.

"Yeah, but I just really want to be able to say you are my wife," Tony said, "Maybe, it's not the best reasoning, but marriage feels official, and after all these years of secrets and pretending, I want something official. I want to be able to say, this is my wife Ziva."

"Do you think I will leave again?" she asked.

Did he want to keep her close.

"No," he said, "You wouldn't do that to Tali."

"Or you," Ziva said. "I would not want to hurt you."

Tony ate another cookie. Ziva looked at the sleeve, and wondered if they would have to pretend to Tali that they never had the cookies.

"I know that marriage shouldn't be so important to me," he said, "I mean Dad didn't show me the best examples growing up. I lost count of the number of times I called a step mother by the wrong name. And, after what happened in Baltimore, I spent a long time thinking the marriage wasn't for me."

Ziva's heart hurt for Tony, almost two decades younger than he was now, ready to make the biggest commitment only to have it all fall apart just before he made the leap.

"My parents did not have the most healthy marriage," Ziva said.

She thought of her parents wedding picture, her mother looked like a deer in headlights, not knowing what she had signed up for.

Her mother had known her father for exactly eleven months before they got married, and he had spent at least three of those months away.

I am a mistress kept on the lurch for years, Rivka had written in her diary, This country will always be his first love. I will never compare.

"If we got married," Tony said, "We wouldn't be like our parents."

They did not parent like their parents either.

"I know," she said.

Tali turned to look at her parents. She waved. Ziva waved back, Tali ran back toward the slide.

"So when would you like to do it?" Ziva asked. She made it sound so clinical, like they were planning to clean the fridge or book Tali in for a dentist appointment.

Tony chuckled softly.

"Generally someone has to propose first," he said, "Usually it's the guy, but it's 2020 so that's not a big deal."

"Has this not been a proposal?" Ziva asked.

Tony shook his head.

"This has been a discussion," Tony said, "A declaration of intentions."

"So it is all hypothetical?" she asked.

"Not exactly," he said, "I've been thinking about this for a while, and was gonna bring it up eventually, Tali just jumped the gun."

Tali had forced both of them to do so much. So much growth. So much change.

"How long have you been thinking about it?" she asked.

"Well it was always part of the plan," he said, "Once you could come out of the shadows, I was gonna make sure I put a ring on it. I just wanted us to be settled, and the whole global pandemic slowed things down, but I've been working on the actual practical aspects of the proposal for a few months now."

Butterflies danced in Ziva's stomach.

She had waited for another man's proposal once upon a time, but this was not like that.

This was not settling.

This was love.

She had never dreamed of white weddings or happy endings, but she wanted to marry him.

"We have never exactly followed a plan," Ziva said.

"No," he replied, "But, let me have this. I want to make it special. I want Tali to tell her future spouse about the time her Dad proposed to her Mom. I want a big story that you tell every time someone asks about the ring."

He wanted to do something special for her.

She would let him have this.

She watched as Tali waved from the top of the climbing frame. Then in slow motion she watched as Tali lost her footing and started to fall.

Tony's phone rang out. He wasn't looking.

Ziva's heart moved into her throat. She pulled herself up, and took the most direct route to the playground, careful to avoid other picnickers. She pulled her mask over her nose.

One of the other children, the boy in the turtle mask, offered Tali his hand, and because of him she did not fall. She held onto the rope climbing frame for dear life.

"Ima," Tali cried out, as Ziva walked toward them. Tali's voice was tinged with fear. "Ima, Daddy."

All Ziva could hear was Tali's panicked cries.

"I am here," Ziva said, as she looked at Tali. The mask that covered her face, and the tears that were starting to fall.

Ziva felt her own face redden.

"Do you want to come down?" Ziva asked. "We can go finish our picnic, Daddy brought those cookies you like."

The boy with the turtle mask had gotten down, and had run to his carer.

"Daddy looks sad," Tali announced from her perch.

Ziva turned and looked at Tony. He had his phone to his ear, and was pacing.

The panic twisted in her gut.

They knew too many people who put their lives in danger every day. It had only been six months since Nick had been hit by a car.

Ducky and Tony's father were at high risk for this virus that had changed their lives.

Abby was all alone in London.

There was too much that could go wrong.

"Let's go to him," Ziva urged, as she placed her hand on the rope of the climbing frame.

She looked toward Tali's friend who was talking with his mother. Ziva knew she should go and talk to the woman to be polite, but she did not have the energy for that.

She needed to get back to Tony. To get Tali between them, so that Tony and Ziva could put their hands together and protect Tali from all the horrors of the world.

"Okay," Tali said, as she tentatively navigated her way down.

She took Ziva's hand. Ziva felt that warmth she always did at her daughter's touch.

"Your hands are sticky," Tali declared.

Clammy, Ziva thought, remembering when she learnt the strange word in the apartment in the sky. She had been so confused, clams were some sort of sea creature, how could hands be like sea creatures.

She was so sure she would never understand English, it was such a strange language.

Now, she operated primarily in English. She dreamed mostly in English.

"It is still a little warm," Ziva said, as they marched toward Tony and their favourite tree. "My hands were warm."

Tali seemed satisfied.

"Did Daddy get strawberry or chocolate?" Tali asked.

Ziva blinked a few times, as they moved closer to Tony. His hand was resting on his face, and she could hear a snippet of his conversation.

"Sorry, what does that mean?" Tony asked.

"What?" Ziva asked.

"You mean pardon," Tali corrected.

"Yes," Ziva said, "I mean pardon. Why did you ask me about chocolate or strawberries?"

"The cookies," Tali said gleefully. "What flavour?"

Ziva tried to remember what flavour the cookies were supposed to be.

"Thank you doctor," Tony said, his voice carrying from the other picnic goers. "Is he awake, can I talk to him?"

Ziva felt sick.

They had seen too many hospital waiting rooms.

She wondered who was in that hospital bed.

"Strawberry," Ziva declared. "The cookies are strawberry flavoured."

"Yay," Tali said, as she swung her and Ziva's arms. "They are my favourite."

Ziva smiled.

"I made sure Daddy did not eat them all," Ziva said, as they reached Tony.

He was sitting on their picnic blanket, with his head in his hands.

"Daddy," Tali called out as she let go of Ziva's hand and ran toward Tony. Tali wrapped her arms around Tony.

"Hey munchkin," he said, looking up at her. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah," Tali said, as she untangled herself from Tony and sat down next to him. "Ima said there are cookies."

Tony handed her the sleeve of cookies, and Tali started to eat them.

Ziva's phone vibrated in her pocket. Usually she did not bother with the phone when she was with them. Most of the notifications were junk. The people who mattered most were right there with her.

Tony pointed to his phone, in his hands, and Ziva plucked her phone from the pocket of her pants.

Tony: I need you to put your best Mossad face on. No emotion.

Tony's phone pinged.

Ziva: What has happened?

Tony: I'm serious. Tali can't know anything. Best Mossad Ninja face.

Ziva knew Tali picked up on their moods know matter how much they tried to hide from her.

Tony's phone pinged again, and he pressed the button to make it go silent.

Ziva: Ok. Now, tell me.

Tony: Dad's in the hospital.

Ziva felt the wind go out of her.

This virus.

They were so far away.

Tali's crumbs spilled onto the picnic blanket.

"Ima," Tali asked. "What's your favourite flavour?"

Tony looked at Ziva.

Act normal, he mouthed.

"Blueberry," Ziva answered quickly.

Ziva: ?

Tony: He fell in the shower. His apartment has alarms for that stuff. He pressed a button, now he is at the hospital.

Ziva: Is he okay?

Tony: . . .

"Do they make blueberry cookies?" Tali asked.

"I do not know," Ziva said. "We will have to look out for them next time we go to the store."

Tony: No breaks. No concussion. They're keeping him for observation. He was asleep. I told them to make sure he calls me when he's awake, I don't care when.

Ziva: Okay. I am glad he is okay.

She took some deep breaths. Yoga breaths.

Tony: Me too. It's just he's all alone in there.

Ziva reached behind Tali and grabbed Tony's hand. She squeezed it. He squeezed back.

Ziva: It will be okay.

And, she hoped it would be.

A/N: I don't own a thing.

Fear not I am not killing Senior off.

Apologies if the mask stuff is inconsistent. Also, describing text messages in fic is hard. When I was editing this chapter the perfection gremlins were very nitpicky, but I decided to embrace done over perfect. Sometimes, chapters don't tun out how we cant them to. In summary filler chapter is filler.

The next chapter will be set soon after this one, and will build on the wedding talk. There will be a proposal towards the end of this fic. We're also going to have our favourite couple make another big decision about their family and future.

Thank you for all the love and kind words. I'm so behind on review replies, but please know I appreciate every review.