AN: inspired by Chapter 12 of "The Meaning of Christmas". Couldn't let that one goes with just 100 words!

Ziva's cold had finally cleared up and Tony had declared that their movie nights had to resume with a vengeance. Plenty of American Holiday Cheer to immerse her in. And yes, it had to be capitalised like that, it was that important.

She had given in suspiciously easily, though had drily pointed out that she was Jewish so technically her home didn't exactly set the holiday mood. Tony had waved her off, telling her that this sort of cinematic experience should definitely not be restricted only to those who celebrated.

"It's perfect for explaining American culture," he explained maybe a little too eagerly.

"I thought that was your excuse for introducing me to reality TV?" she asked suspiciously.

She still hadn't quite forgiven him for introducing her to America's Next Top Model. Apparently, Tara Banks' voice still made an appearance in her dreams. And not in a good way. Tony had given her no end of teasing over that but she had effectively put a stop to it with a few well-placed threats. His partner was terrifying after all. Not that he was going to completely stop teasing her about that, he was just biding his time for the perfect opening and distance away from any particular weapons at her disposal.

"Well, that too," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head and then brightened. "But these show a much better side, I promise."

She didn't really look convinced but permitted him to have a Christmas themed night at her house. Eagerly, he had grabbed all of his Christmas movies, of which there were a lot of, and some specifically Christmas-y treats to bring over. He was tempted to bring some tinsel for temporary decorations but resisted. He did not need something that Ziva could easily strangle him with nearby.

Her eyes had widened comically when she saw his collection and had pointed out that they couldn't possibly watch even a fraction of them in one night, even if they pulled an all-nighter, which she insisted they did not. Tony simply brushed of her concerns and explained that all he was doing was some forward planning. These were not videos for just tonight but the whole Christmas season and he was determined for her to watch each and every one of them.

"And when the Christmas season finishes before we can do so?" Zia queried in an exasperated tone. "Because that will happen even if we watch two a day, which will be impossible."

Tony shrugged. "Then we continue next year. And the year after until we do finish," he said, optimistically ignoring the fact that his partner was a liaison for a foreign agency.

"Or we could watch them even in January," Ziva suggested, obviously thinking of the same thing.

"You can't watch Christmas movies in January," Tony retorted in an outraged tone. "Or any other time of year! It's sacrilegious. It's a betrayal to the season. It's wrong. It's- "

"-obviously not going to happen," Ziva finished, placing a finger on his lips.

"Exactly," he agreed after trying to nip at the offending finger. He pinched his lips slightly in retaliation, scratching her nails on them in warning. Ouch.

That had apparently settled the matter and Ziva went to her kitchen to scrounge up some form of snacks. Hopefully not all of them healthy. He'd brought some popcorn, of course, but you couldn't just have popcorn with Christmas movies. You needed something chocolatey as well. Ziva said that she thought she had some chocolate.

His eyes drifted to her calendar, a pretty generic one on all accounts – one of beaches from around the world. Probably reminded her a little of home. Idly he wondered if she would appreciate an Israeli themed one for the upcoming year. You could be sure to get one somewhere. Then his heart almost stopped as the date actually sunk into his subconscious. He hadn't done it yet.

It was silly, he could really do it at any point during the Christmas season and it would probably hold the same meaning but it wouldn't be the same. Not for him. Any earlier wouldn't have the same memories associated it with it, it would feel wrong. And any later would be just that. Late. Was he making any sense? Putting words to his feelings, even in his head, seemed to make them more fake and too sharp. But he needed to do this, reasoning be damned. It was important and he just couldn't forget to do it. No never. Not even when he had been on a case had he not done it.

Tony bit his lip and debated whether he could quickly excuse himself back to his apartment. He looked at Ziva, who was cheerfully humming in her kitchen and got rid of that thought. No, that wasn't a good idea. He didn't want to put an end to tonight before it had started. But he couldn't just skip it though, that wouldn't be right. It would be like a betrayal. Nope, definitely not an option. Could he do it here? But how would he voice it to Ziva?

"Are you okay, Tony?" she asked, standing in the doorway. When had she stopped rummaging through her cupboards?

"Hm? Yeah," he said quickly, flashing her a quick smile.

She cocked her head to one side and gave him a disbelieving look.

"I don't suppose you have a candle I could use?" he asked quickly.

An eyebrow shot up but she nodded slowly.

"In the cupboard over there," she replied, waving a hand at the piece of furniture. "Is this for the 'atmosphere' you were taking about?"

"Not exactly." Before she could question it, he quickly added. "It's for my mom."

Why did he say that? It wasn't something that he ever volunteered or even thought of volunteering. But he had just blurted it out to his partner with no thought. He'd even been given an excuse by her for it without him having to say anything!

"Your mom? Oh." A sympathetic look was directed at him, though she still looked confused but did not press.

Strangely, Tony wanted to share his little, private tradition he did every year. He had never even mentioned it to anyone before, his memories of his mom were his and his alone. Especially since his dad didn't exactly talk to him about mom, or talk to him very much at all. This was one thing about his mom, that didn't involve movies, that he felt comfortable doing. Probably because she had never done this with him because the whole reason for it was that she wasn't here.

"Just a way to think about her," he told his partner.

"A candle for remembrance?" she guessed.

He scrunched up his nose at the description. "Sort of but not really." And there was Ziva's curious head tilt again. "A little homage to her for the season and just a chance to think of the things we did at this time of year together."

Ziva nodded in understanding. He briefly wondered if she did something similar for her sister but didn't ask. You didn't ask these sorts of things, you waited for them to be offered and accepted them gracefully. Like Ziva was doing now for him, reaching into the cupboard and taking out a simple white one to offer to him.

"Is this okay?"

Tony smiled at her and gently took the candle. "It's perfect," he assured her.

He preferred using white candles, or deep pink if he could get one (mom's favourite colour). White was for snow and angel's gowns and sugar dusting baked goods. All the good and pure things about Christmas.

"I will leave," Ziva announced, turning toward her bedroom.

That was the last thing Tony wanted, chasing her out of her own home. He grabbed the crook of her elbow and tugged her back. "You don't have to."

She gave him an unreadable look and shook her head slowly, a soft smile on her face.

"I think I do."

"That'll make me feel weird," Tony complained.

He'd just end up thinking of Ziva hovering by a door, waiting to be let back in. No, that wouldn't do.

"You deserve privacy," she insisted.

"How about you sort out the hot chocolate?" he compromised. "I don't talk to the candle or anything so you won't be hearing anything personal."

Looking at him in a way that told him that she wasn't convinced, Ziva went to do just that. Relieved and a little amazed that she didn't put up more of an argument, Tony turned his attention to the candle. He set it carefully on the windowsill, making sure it wasn't near Ziva's blinds and realised that she had retrieved a lighter for him as well. Must have been from the same cupboard. It took mere seconds to light it, the small flame dancing seemingly in mid-air. Surprisingly, he didn't catch a scent from it- not that Ziva seemed to be the type of woman to have fancy scented candles but it was a bit odd that it was scentless.

Shaking his head to rid himself of that thought, Tony tried to focus on why he was doing this in the first place. His mom. The woman who deemed this part of the season so important. He heard Ziva open her fridge for the milk and the clank of a saucepan being put on the stove. Very familiar sounds to him, comforting ones too. Reminded him of childhood hot chocolates on cold, slushy days. And that was all it took for the memories to drift from the back of his mind.

Memories of pulling out boxes and having a mess of decorations around him, excited shouts as they found a bauble they particularly loved. Memories of warm, fluffy blankets that enveloped both of them as they watched 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' and 'Miracle on 34th Street' (the 1947 one and the 1973 one) and other Christmas Classics as he had come to call them. Memories of sneaking around for each other's gifts as mom brought him shopping. Memories of the sheer delight of the first snowfall. There was the familiar pang of pain as each one played for him but it was soon overcome by warmth as he welcomed each memory and not shying away from it. He'd always miss her, of course he would, but it was becoming easier with each passing year to celebrate those cherished memories they'd made.

"Well, Merry Christmas, Mom," Tony said quietly, blowing the candle out.

The thin curl of some drifted upwards as he rubbed at his face. Tactfully, Ziva did not say anything to him as she set the steaming mugs of hot chocolate down and rummaged through the DVDs he'd brought over. He needed a moment. Several deep breaths were taken along with some rapid blinking. Wordlessly and non-judgementally, Ziva passed him a packet of tissues. He blew his nose noisily, wincing at the sound in the currently silent apartment.

"It was her favourite time of year," he announced the room in the same quiet tone, voice a bit hoarse.

"Oh?" Ziva said, interested.

Tony supposed he didn't share too many emotional memories of his mother. Never really felt like he could. Sharing his whole candle tradition made him feel more open to the concept. They deserved to be shared.

"Yeah, said this was the time of year all the good movies came out," he explained. "All happy endings."

"Not enough of those," Ziva agreed.

He gazed wistfully at the TV, memories more than thoughts drifting to the forefront of his subconscious.

"She liked the fact that people made the magic."

"It does seem possible at this time of year," Ziva said with a smile.

She then opened her mouth and then hesitated.

"You can ask your question," he told her gently, fussing with the candle, not really wanting to turn to face his partner just yet. "Though I might not answer."

"Why halfway through the month and not earlier?"

Satisfied with the candle, Tony turned to answer her, a soft smile on his face as he remembered, "She was never one of those people who decorated for the holidays early, not even the first week never mind just after Thanksgiving like some people. Said it spoilt the holiday and dragged it out too much so it was no longer exciting."

"Sounds like a smart woman."

Ziva had complained about seeing Christmas decorations in November, not seeing the point in it when even she knew all the important dates and traditions were for December, and had then grumbled when McGee explained the reasoning behind American Consumerism.

"Yeah, so she liked to start celebrating about half way through. Thought it made the whole season more exciting when it was brief. Brought out all the decorations and we only watched Christmas movies from then on."

"Did your father not join you?"

Tony fell silent, not really wanting to answer that. Christmas was a time DiNozzo Senior spent buttering up to his "clients", taking advantage of their generous holiday spirits. He had no time for silly holiday traditions. Ziva thankfully did not press him for an answer, she knew a thing about fathers, after all.

"Thank you," he said instead, hoping that his gratefulness showed in his tone.

Ziva looked genuinely puzzled. "For what?"

"For being understanding."

Because she had been. Incredibly so. She hadn't made him feel awkward or overwhelmed or pressed him for information like other team members would have done. She'd just let him get on with it, giving him her quiet and respectful support. He really appreciated it.

She didn't brush the thanks away either, instead graciously accepting it. "It is the right thing to do," she told him simply. "I would not want to be anything else."

He grabbed his hot chocolate, wanting to prevent himself from fidgeting. He didn't quite know what to do now, it wasn't like he had shared this before. What was the etiquette for this sort of thing?

Ziva saved the day again and held the box of DVDs out to him. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"What was your mother's favourite one? We should start with that," she suggested almost shyly.

Gaping a her like a fish for a moment before a grin spread across his face, all the heaviness of the past few minutes lifting almost immediately. He took the box from her and started his own rummaging.

"Well, it depends on the genre of the Christmas film."

"Christmas films have different genres?"

"Well, not wholly in the traditional sense but you can group them- "