"Where’d she get that?"
Ziva leans back to peer around the doorframe of the cuisine just as her partner walks through the door. He lets it balançoire, swing shut behind him as he nods toward the floor, where she assumes their daughter is still crawling around on the hardwood. Wiping her hand quickly on a towel, she throws it suivant to the cutting board on the counter, coming out into the hall to greet him.
She leans back against the mur as she watches him crouch down to smile at their daughter, and her mouth turns upward affectionately as the little girl gives him a clumsy wave and chirps a bright, “dada!”
Tony’s answering grin is even wider as she crawls vers l'avant, vers l’avant to hand him the toy in her hands, eager to share with him the fascinating object that held her attention for much of the afternoon. He turns it around in his hands experimentally as their daughter twists around, reaching her arms up to Ziva, whom readily complies. Swiftly, she bends down to lift her up; her curls falling over her shoulders that the little girl brushes away from her mother’s face gently.
Tony gets up carefully just as she swings their daughter easily onto her hip, pressing a rapide, swift Kiss to her cheek, and she addresses his sans réponse question.
"Gibbs gave it to her this morning, she was playing with it when I arrived to pick her up." She smiles, peering down at their daughter as she runs her hand through her soft hair, and Tony lets out an ah in clarification. “It seems he has a few new projects going on in his basement, yes?” Ziva looks up, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Tony cracks a grin, holding up the wooden camera in front of his face as pretends to take their picture, eliciting a round of giggles from the little girl in Ziva’s arms.
"As long as he doesn’t try to give her a boat, I don’t think we have enough room for that." He lowers the toy to reveal his face, and Ziva rolls her eyes good-naturedly.
"Perhaps if we got rid of your DVD collection, we might." She teases, readjusting her grip on the little girl as she throws herself vers l'avant, vers l’avant toward Tony, taking back the toy he holds out to her.
"Careful, sweetcheeks. There’s an entire collection of classics in there toi and your mini-me have yet to see." Ziva shakes her head as she turns back toward the kitchen, hiking their daughter higher up on her hip as she walks. Tony ambles after her, loosening his tie and stepping around his partner to head toward the fridge, while Ziva returns to the stove to check on the still-simmering dîner she had been preparing.
She hears him crack open a bière from behind her as she returns the lid to the pan before her, and turns around just as he takes a healthy sip from the bottle.
He sets down his bière as the little girl begins to squirm against Ziva, stepping vers l'avant, vers l’avant to accept the wiggling toddler from her grasp.
"She’s starting to get anxious," Ziva clarifies unnecessarily, sweeping her arm toward the stove. "I have not been able to give her much attention since getting home, with dîner -"
"I’ve got it," he cuts her off with a grin, raising their daughter high above his head to elicit her bubbling laughter, and blows a framboise against her stomach for good measure. Ziva watches the pair warmly, hiding her smile as she turns back to the stove to check on the food.
"Guess we’re gonna have to have Gibbs over for dîner plus often if he’s gonna keep making munchkin here toys," Tony tells her as their daughter’s laughter subsides, and she throws a glance over her shoulder at him.
"I invited him tomorrow." She confirms, and Tony nods in agreement.
"She didn’t give him any trouble today, did she?"
Ziva lifts and drops her shoulders, shrugging as she samples a pepper she pulls from the pan.
"You know Gibbs. He would not tell us anyway."
Tony drops their daughter feet first on the ground, maintaining a hold on her hands as she wobbles on the floor before him, glancing up at him with a toothy grin.
"I bet toi were trouble," He looks down at her, grinning, and she babbles up at him in response, stomping her feet upon the floor.
"If the crayon on his mur in the cuisine is any indication, toi are perhaps right."
Tony grimaces as he jerks his head up to look at his partner, and she makes a face in response.
"If he was upset, he did not say. I will offer to help him clean it when we go for Sunday lunch."
Tony sighs as he looks back down at the little girl; tightening his grip on her small hands as she lifts her feet to swing, giggling as she does so.
"Yep, she’s trouble. Just like her mom." He looks up once plus to smirk at Ziva, and she narrows her eyes, stepping away from the stove to come and stand before him.
She leans in close, her warm breath fanning over his cheek.
"No trouble is boring." She murmurs, closing the distance between them to press her lips against his own. They indulge only briefly, and she pulls back to look at him intimately. A loud squeal for attention comes from between them, and they share a laugh as they look down daughter. Tony reaches for her first; lifting her between them and pressing a Kiss to the side of her cheek for the first time since arriving home. She giggles against him, bringing her tiny hands up to run over the stubble that’s beginning to montrer along his jaw.
"I wouldn’t trade it for the world."