Anthony DiNozzo Senior had not felt this happy since the day his son was born. He still couldn't believe what he was being told. Nothing could bring him down.

"There is a problem, however," Eli interrupted his quiet celebration. "Remember, I said we have very stubborn children."

That set him back. "What do you mean?"

"My daughter, as I said, feels she must pay a price for the crimes she believes she has committed. Among them…" The other man's voice grew with emotion. "Among them was the death of her brother." Before he could ask, Eli continued. "For some reason, she has decided not to tell your son. Let me be clear, I do not agree with her decision. I have tried to reason with her, tried to tell her Tony has a right to know. But she does not listen to me much anymore."

"Then talk to Junior. I'm sure he wants to know and if it came from you…"

"Ziva made me vow on her sister's grave I would not tell him," Eli revealed.

"Well, I can talk to her if you would like. We had a lovely rappaport going whenever I would visit," Anthony offered.

"That will not work, sadly. She would not appreciate learning you know either," Eli disagreed. When Anthony began to question him, Eli raised his hand. "No, we must be more...sneaky...about this."

Anthony smirked at him, a mirror of his son's. "Well, it's a good thing you were a spy. No need for sneakiness in that line of work." Then, he asked, "I presume you have a plan already."

That made the operative laugh finally. "Yes, I do. This is something that must be handled most delicately, lest we alienate either of our children. Ziva must be handled with great gentleness…"

"And if Tony learns this the wrong way, he's liable to explode. His anger is not one to tangle with, as rare as it is," his father agreed. "So, how do you propose we resolve this?"

"I think we may need, at least, one other," Eli admitted reluctantly. "I believe there is one man they would both listen to."

Anthony knew who he spoke of and agreed. "In your estimation, who between us would be on better terms with him? I think he's still upset with me for not reacting to that bombing at the Navy Yard last year. Or being there for Tony's bout with the plague. Or several other missteps I've taken over the last four years."

"You didn't check on your son after Dearing's bombing? I heard about it in Israel and made contact with Ziva while she and Tony were still stuck in the elevator!" Then he shook his head. "But those pale in comparison to the belief I left my daughter for dead in the desert. No, it would be better from you."

Having heard the whole story, Senior had to agree. While still not buddy buddy with Gibbs, he could only imagine the feelings he may have had to Eli David. Not a perfect man, not a perfect father, the emotional damage he had admittedly inflicted on his son was possibly gentler to whatever strife was in the David family. "How far along is Ziva? How much time do we have to make the two of them see that they should be together?"

"Ziva is in her early second trimester, if my guess is correct. But I would still hasten the process along. I cannot think that Tony will take kindly to the thought he may have been purposely shut out from any part of his child's life."

"My son loves her enough he would probably understand, but I don't want to put all my chips there, just to be safe," Senior agreed. "Okay, I am going to need to make flight arrangements for DC, as soon as possible." He reached for his phone.

It was not a surprise when he heard the other man. "If you would like, we can take my jet," Eli said, "for our journey to the United States." Then, he added, "I hear you do not like to fly commercial anyway."

Anthony felt his cheeks redden. He was usually more than willing to accept a free ride on a private jet, but now, it felt kind of tacky. "Are you sure? I don't want to take advantage…"

"As I said, we are about to become family." Then Eli asked, "Will you be calling your son?"

"No, I don't think so. I find it best to catch Junior a little off guard. It's what he usually expects. If I call ahead, he might find it odd and question me about it," Anthony said.

Eli smiled. "You too? I know my daughter does not care for me just showing up, but in my line of work, there were the benefits of being a surprise. It often managed to save lives." Then he called for his pretty young assistant. When she appeared he spoke to her in English. "Liat, have the jet ready for tomorrow morning. It is too late to get underway now."

The woman began to question him in Hebrew, but he interrupted her. "English, please, Liat. We have a guest."

Liat gave him an icy stare. "Is there anyone we should contact ahead of our departure?"

The other man shook his head. "No, but have the house in Ashburn prepared. I think it best we stay there while we are in the States."

Liat left, but Anthony had questions. "Who does she mean by that?"

"I would guess Leon Vance. But I do not wish to make my presence known until it is absolutely needed, or else my old friend will have me sequestered in a safehouse." Then he rose from his chair. "My assistant has had your things brought here from the hotel. There is a guest room at your disposal for the night."

"Thank you. It is most generous," Anthony replied as he moved to go his room.

"One thing before you retire for the night," Eli called after him. He turned to the bar and poured Courvoisier Napoleon into two sniffers. He handed one to Anthony. "A toast to, what I hope, is our success."

"To our grandchild," Anthony replied. "Cent'Anni."

"Lecha'yim," Eli returned as they clinked glasses.