Just a little drabble in honor of the day. Happy Mother’s day to all the mothers out there in this fandom, especially thedinozzos and americanidioms. I know there are many of you, and I speak to so few closely. Thank you for all you do.
She wakes to soft, gentle kisses brushing across her bare shoulder.
A sleepy smile spreads across her face as she slowly begins to wake. Though she’s never been one to respond favorably to being woken, when it comes to him she will always be willing to make an exception. His mouth continues it’s exploration along her shoulders, her neck, her back - and the delicate touches, along with the warm sun she feels streaming through their window - raise goosebumps across her exposed skin.
She feels her partner’s smile as he continues to press against the expanse of her skin with his lips.
“Buongiorno,” He mumbles between kisses, and she hums in satisfaction as his hand drifts down her side, still not fully awake enough to form coherent sentences. It does not perturb her partner in the very least. As his hand comes to rest across her stomach, she moves her own to cover his, intertwining their fingers together. She allows herself a few more moments of indulgence before finally rolling over to face him properly.
She blinks owlishly as her eyes adjust to the sunlit room, and her partner smiles at her affectionately.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” He murmurs, and she scrunches her face in adorable irritation, fixing him with a glare.
“I did not get much sleep last night with your daughter in our bed.” She assigns him sole accountability of their daughter whenever her behavior is less than favorable, and it never fails to make him roll his eyes.
Whether she’d admit to it or not, their daughter was her in miniature, ninja form.
Past arguments, however, remind him maintaining this fact is a futile effort. And unwilling to argue with her, today of all days, he apologizes and accepts full responsibility for their daughters restless sleeping.
“Next time I’ll take her back to her bed once she’s fallen asleep,” he murmurs, trailing his hands down to her hips to pull her closer. She laughs as the charm in his voice increases and he lets his eyes travel over her body. “Then we can wake up like this more mornings.”
He leans forward to kiss her slowly, unrushed, and Ziva allows herself to kiss him back indulgently for several minutes. Rarely do they get mornings like this to themselves anymore, and they’ll each take advantage of whatever time they can get. Just as it begins to escalate, she breaks apart from his mouth, knowing that allowing things to continue farther wouldn’t be wise.
She rests her head back on the pillow, watching him as she sees the lust slowly abate from his eyes. She smirks unapologetically.
“You know we can’t,” Ziva chastises, and addresses the question that she’s been wondering since she awoke. “Is she still sleeping?”
Tony toys with a stray curl , a secret smile turning up at the corners of his mouth.
“No,” he tells her conspiratorially, eyes still on her curls as he gathers more in his hand. “I’m supposed to be distracting you.” Her eyebrows narrow in question, and his other hand squeezes her hip playfully. “She’s working on your surprise with Gibbs.”
Ziva blanks, and Tony laughs at her confusion. Shifting closer while wrapping his hand into her hair, he leans over to press a soft kiss to her forehead.
“It’s Mother’s Day, Ziva, remember? She wants it to be a surprise.”
Bewilderment settles across her features as emotion floods her face, and he chuckles adoringly at how innocent she is of the day, even after three years of celebrating it. He knows that it’s still all very new for her, and how long she battled with the idea of feeling worthy enough to be amother. Each year she has to be reminded that they celebrate a day dedicated to her entirely.
It’s one of the few times he’s ever seen his partner cry.
She tears up now, and he laughs as he wipes at the tears that begin to fall. Ziva imitates him, chuckling at herself for getting so emotional.
She never imagined this life for herself. Her world had grown so much since she had arrived in America. Even more so since finally committing to her partner; in work and in life. For so long, their world had encompassed only each other. She’d never known just how much more it could grow to contain another.
She’d thought that the biggest gamble, the biggest risk, that she would ever make was finally allowing herself to have Tony completely. And that no other reward could be greater than him.
How very wrong she was.
Voices from somewhere within their home begin to drift toward their bedroom, reminding them they were not alone. Tony presses one last kiss to her lips before untangling himself from her and the sheets. She watches him as he leaves the bed, and he turns to her after he’s found a shirt to pull over his head.
“Sounds like they are done with your surprise,” He tells her, and his head pops through his shirt, leaving his hair standing in all directions. She smiles at him affectionately, and takes the hand he extends toward her, pulling her out of the bed.
She allows him to tug her along toward their door, and they’ve barely made it down the hall when their daughter appears, running towards them with Gibbs at her heels.
Ziva lets go of Tony’s hand as soon as their daughter runs toward her, holding up one of her favorite types of roses.
She bends down to meet her, and the little girl’s grin stretches wide as she greets her mother; her chest rising and falling from exertion.
“Happy Mother’s Day, momma.” She says sweetly, and sniffs the flower before holding it out to her. “Dis your favorite, ken?” She looks between Gibbs and her father for confirmation, and her gaze return to her mother, eying Ziva hesitantly.
Ziva laughs, accepting the flower and pulling her into a tight hug.
“Ken, it is beautiful, tatehleh. Toda.”
The two men exchange easy smiles, and the little girl pulls away, animated and bursting with excitement.
“Dere’s more, momma!” She chirps, and grasps hold of Ziva’s fingers to pull her down the hall. Ziva follows obediently, looking behind her at Tony and Gibbs questioningly. Gibbs merely smiles, his face unreadable, and Tony’s grinning wide.
They travel further down the hall, into the main area of the house that leads them to the backyard. The little girl lets go of her hand when she’s in sight of the back door, and runs to reach it first. Grasping the handle, she turns to look at the adults over her shoulder with a stern expression.
“No peeking, momma.” She says seriously, and Ziva nods her head in obedience.
“Don’t worry, princess, Daddy’s watching her.” Tony appears next to her, and puffs out his chest importantly. The little girl nods to her father appreciatively, then finally opens the door to lead them outside.
She once again grasps Ziva’s hand when they’ve stepped outside, and directs her attention to a small section in the yard. What used to be a bare, grassy, area, was now a colorful assortment of flowers, divided artfully into sections of stained, wooden boxes. There were a handfuls of different types of flowers; from the golden-red rose she held in her hand, to several flowers she recognized immediately to be native to Israel. The woodwork was clearly Gibbs handiwork, and she could make out several batches of flowers that were so brightly colorful, she knew they had to have been picked out by no one but the little girl herself.
Ziva feels tears begin to prick the back of her eyes, and she senses Tony move closer to her, settling a warm hand on her shoulder.
Oblivious to her mother’s reaction, she bounds forward to crouch in front of the flowers, trying to rattle off the names of the ones she could remember.
“… And grampa said you liked dese flowers, cuz they’re from your other home. And Aun’ Abby help me find the pretty pink ones, see?” She turns around to finally look at her mother, pointing toward the flowers expectantly.
Swiping at her eyes, Ziva meets her gaze and nods with enthusiasm.
“These are so beautiful, tatehleh,” She gushes, and the little girl grins proudly, wandering back over to embrace her. Ziva crouches down, opening her arms out to her.
“Gampa helped me so we can have flowers for you everyday, momma.” She explains, wrapping her arms around Ziva’s neck. Ziva pulls her in for another tight hug, bringing her up as she stands, and settles her easily against her hip.
“Toda,” She whispers again against her daughters curls, pressing a kiss to her head. Ziva then looks towards Gibbs, and he gives her one of his rare, open smiles.
Moving toward them, he grasps Ziva in a tight, one armed hug.
“Didn’t do much,” He says easily, “Just followed her orders.” He winks at the little girl, and she giggles in response.
“It’s momma’s special day,” She reasoned, and pats Ziva’s cheek affectionately.
Ziva gazes at her with a watery smile, then turns her attention to Gibbs.
“Toda, Gibbs.” She says thickly, and he only shakes his head in response. Pulling her closer with the one arm still wrapped around her, he speaks lowly.
“You deserve it, Ziver. You’re a damn good mother. Never doubt that.” Gibbs presses a kiss to the side of her head, and her eyes fill with tears again. She looks between all three of them, and wonders what she did, exactly, to deserve the love that surrounds her today.
If there’s one thing she will forever be thankful for, it’s the gift of being a mother.