Work Text:
Tony stifled a yawn as he put his car in reverse, backing out of the small parking lane and onto the street. It was only three in the afternoon, but the day seemed to drag on minute by minute.
That’s the last time we have a late-night movie marathon on a school night, Tony thought ruefully, looking in the rearview mirror to see the person in the backseat. Tali stared out the window, watching the other cars on the road and kicking her legs back and forth. And certainly not looking as tired as he felt.
“Kids,” he huffed under his breath, though he couldn’t help smiling. Despite his exhaustion, the cinema-fest last night had been fun, even when Tali had insisted they watch several musicals. Late-night movies had long been a tradition for Tony DiNozzo, though he never imagined he would someday share that tradition with his own daughter.
His daughter.
Tony’s chest tightened, and he briefly closed his eyes. Even after nearly four years spent raising Tali, he wasn’t quite over the fact that he was a father. He glanced in the rearview mirror again to find Tali watching him.
“Are you sleepy, Abba?” she asked, tilting her head. A snippet of memory flashed through Tony’s mind of another beautiful, brown-haired girl who would tilt her head at him just like that. Ziva.
He pushed the thought away, settling instead for a wide, theatrical yawn that earned him a giggle from Tali. “Yeah, I’m sleepy,” he said. “New house rule: No more TV after midnight.”
“I’m not tired,” Tali replied with an air of self-importance, though the smile never left her face. “And I like watching TV after bedtime. You picked funny movies last night.”
“Did I?” Tony feigned offence. “I’ll have you know, young lady, Despicable Me is a cinematic masterpiece of the 2010s.”
Tali giggled again. “I liked the ones with singing bits best. Like Mary Poppins. Oh! And The Noise of Music!”
“That’s The Sound of Music,” Tony corrected, rolling his eyes. “I knew showing you that movie was a mistake.”
Tali didn’t seem to hear him, as she was now peering out the window at a motorbike that was driving alongside them. Tony returned his gaze to the road, though he could feel his attention slipping, drifting on to all that was left to do that day.
It took a moment for his mind to register that he was hearing music. In the rearview mirror, Tali was still looking out the window, but now she was humming to herself.
“I have confidence in sunshine,” she sang softly, almost pensively, as if she hadn’t realized she was speaking aloud as her thoughts wandered. “I have confidence in rain.” She broke off and hummed a few bars when she ran out of lyrics, then started again.
Emotion hit Tony in the chest so hard he nearly gasped. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as images poured into his mind. Ziva stepping out of the elevator and into the bull pen, distractedly humming that song as she walked. The two of them sprawled out across her couch, watching The Sound of Music for the fourth time, Ziva singing along to the songs just to annoy him.
The road blurred before Tony’s eyes, turning the Paris streets into a swirling mess of color. He blinked, sending two trails of hot liquid down his face.
“Abba, what are we doing when we get home?”
Tali’s voice pulled him back to the present, and Tony swallowed hard, working past the tightness in his throat before replying. “You’re going to do your homework,” he said. “And I have a few phone calls for work.”
“Then can we play a game?”
Tony let out a short laugh, though it sounded a bit more strangled than he would have liked. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”
Tali shifted in her seat, craning her neck in an attempt to see his face. Her eyebrows drew together in the most serious expression a six-year-old can manage. “Are you sad, Abba?”
“I’m okay, Tali,” he replied, giving her as reassuring a smile as he could manage. “Just thinking.” And missing your Ima. He almost said that last part out loud but stopped himself. There would come a time when he would talk to Tali seriously about Ziva, maybe even explain where she was and what she was doing, but after a long night and with work still left to do, now was not the time.
Tali sat back, satisfied with his answer, and after a heartbeat of silence, she resumed humming. Tony inhaled a shaky breath through his nose, though it did little to ease the empty, squeezing, clutching sensation in his chest.
Someday this will be over, he told himself, forcing the tears away for Tali’s sake as much as his own. He would not think about where Ziva was right then. Maybe running again, scared, from one place to another. Being shot at. Laying in a pool of her own blood in some back alley halfway across the world. Tony blinked to clear away the thoughts. That won’t happen, he told himself. We’ll get to be a family someday.
“I have confidence,” Tali murmured to herself, then started another string of contented humming.
Tony smiled, a quiet laugh breaking through as he did so. Yeah, he thought. Me, too.
I have confidence.