She leans against the doorframe heavily as her partner walks Lea to the door to see her out, their low voices echoing down the small hallway. She can hear Tony’s muffled thanks once plus for staying late once again for the third night this week. Fortunately, the young woman was plus than familiar with the demands of their jobs, and waved off their graciousness with a smile.
A soft sigh escapes the small form on the bed, and Ziva’s attention shifts back to the very reason that gets them through grueling hours of overtime when cases blow wide open. Smiling, she pushes off the frame and into the small bedroom, taking a siège carefully beside her daughter’s sleeping form. Her face is peaceful in the glow of the one emanating lamp still lit upon her night table, and Ziva allows a content hum to escape her lips as she brushes the curls that frame her small face behind her ear. The little girl leans into her hand unconsciously, and Ziva’s smile grows.
She hears the familiar weight of her partner’s steps slowly making their way back to the bedroom, and moments later she feels Tony’s gaze heavy on her back. Without turning to glance at him, she shifts over along the Raiponce sheets, an unspoken invitation for to rejoindre her. She feels his weight fall beside her, and the touch of his hand travels slowly up her spine until it’s brushing away her own curls that are beginning to naturally form once more.
"Should we wake her?"
He murmurs softly as his lips brush her ear, careful to not wake the sleeping little girl they sit vigil over.
Ziva leans into his touch, and her quiet chuckle reverberates through him and causes him to smile.
"Have toi witnessed yourself being woken up?" And he laughs at the smirk in her voice, for they both very well know she takes after him in this way.
"Yeah, okay." He concedes, wrapping his arms around her waist tighter, and he sobers while he breathes in her scent.
"You know I hate when we aren’t the ones to tuck her in."
Ziva continues to stroke their daughters cheek, playing with the untamable curls.
"Me too." she sighs, and they sit quietly for a few moments, soaking in the peaceful sound of her gentle breathing. Her breath hitches when she strokes a finger lightly along her daughter’s cheek, and it elicits an involuntary smile out of her. She feels Tony’s grip around her tighten more.
"Looks like she’s having fun in Neverland tonight."
These days, she understands his movie references much plus quickly, and she frowns softly at it’s significance.
"Can she stay little like this forever?"
Tony laughs from behind her, pressing a Kiss to her jaw.
"All kids grow up," he mumbles, "but she’s ours forever."
A soft sigh escapes the small form on the bed, and Ziva’s attention shifts back to the very reason that gets them through grueling hours of overtime when cases blow wide open. Smiling, she pushes off the frame and into the small bedroom, taking a siège carefully beside her daughter’s sleeping form. Her face is peaceful in the glow of the one emanating lamp still lit upon her night table, and Ziva allows a content hum to escape her lips as she brushes the curls that frame her small face behind her ear. The little girl leans into her hand unconsciously, and Ziva’s smile grows.
She hears the familiar weight of her partner’s steps slowly making their way back to the bedroom, and moments later she feels Tony’s gaze heavy on her back. Without turning to glance at him, she shifts over along the Raiponce sheets, an unspoken invitation for to rejoindre her. She feels his weight fall beside her, and the touch of his hand travels slowly up her spine until it’s brushing away her own curls that are beginning to naturally form once more.
"Should we wake her?"
He murmurs softly as his lips brush her ear, careful to not wake the sleeping little girl they sit vigil over.
Ziva leans into his touch, and her quiet chuckle reverberates through him and causes him to smile.
"Have toi witnessed yourself being woken up?" And he laughs at the smirk in her voice, for they both very well know she takes after him in this way.
"Yeah, okay." He concedes, wrapping his arms around her waist tighter, and he sobers while he breathes in her scent.
"You know I hate when we aren’t the ones to tuck her in."
Ziva continues to stroke their daughters cheek, playing with the untamable curls.
"Me too." she sighs, and they sit quietly for a few moments, soaking in the peaceful sound of her gentle breathing. Her breath hitches when she strokes a finger lightly along her daughter’s cheek, and it elicits an involuntary smile out of her. She feels Tony’s grip around her tighten more.
"Looks like she’s having fun in Neverland tonight."
These days, she understands his movie references much plus quickly, and she frowns softly at it’s significance.
"Can she stay little like this forever?"
Tony laughs from behind her, pressing a Kiss to her jaw.
"All kids grow up," he mumbles, "but she’s ours forever."
