It was the quiet that got to Ziva. In the quiet, that the panic came, catching her quickly like a riptide. It was only ever quiet at night.

Ziva's days were now filled with so much noise.

And, so much joy.

For someone who was so little, Tali made a lot of noise. She told herself stories, when she was in the bathroom. She made whooshing noises as she scooted along the sidewalk. She insisted on early morning karaoke sessions.

Her daughter. His daughter. Their daughter.

Theirs.

Tony only encouraged the noise. He made rocket noises when he lifted Tali up. He sang Let It Go with as much gusto as Tali. Tony laughed at Tali's nonsensical stories, and told a few of his own.

There had been so much laughter in the last week. From all three of the occupants of the apartment.

Yet, still the panic hid in the shadows. Waiting to strike. Waiting for Ziva to let her guard down.

In the six nights she had been home, Ziva had not slept peacefully.

At first, it had been sharing the bed with Tony that had stolen her sleep. Neither of them were used to sharing a bed, and both of them were worried that if they closed their eyes it would all be a dream. Those concerns had quickly passed.

Then Tali got into the habit of coming into their room in the small hours. She needed to be sure that both her parents were still there. Once, she was sure that her parents had not disappeared, Tali usually climbed into bed with them.

When Ziva finally did doze off, it was with her daughter's elbow digging into her, and her partner snoring, as the three of them lay in a bed that was not big enough for three.

The nights where she did sleep, it was never for long, and never deep.

She knew what happened when she let herself sleep deeply.

She had exposed her daughter to so much. Ziva would not let her daughter see her mother destroyed by nightmares.

If it meant she never slept a full night again, so be it.

Ziva had survived eight years of hundred hour weeks under Gibbs, and Tali's colicky early infancy. She could survive on the bare minimum of slumber.

Still, the quiet got to her. The Parisian apartment was not quite silent. The fridge hummed. Tali's white noise machine bled out from her slightly open door. Tony's snores carried through from the bedroom still had trouble thinking of as theirs.

The light from the street seeped through the curtains, that they had not closed properly when they went to bed. The unlit menorah stood proudly on the windowsill. The Christmas tree stood in the corner, a shiny ornament twinkled in the only light in the room, the blue light of the tablet.

Ziva studied the photo that she brought up. Tali aged about three and sat on Santa's lap. Tali's little curls were contained under an elf hat. A shy smile on her face.

Ziva felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She sucked in a deep breath. The panic bubbled up her body, burning her throat. It came over her quickly.

For the last week she had looked around every corner, and watched every other person in the park. She would always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Ziva put the tablet down, and took another deep breath. Inhale. Exhale.

She noticed that Tony had stopped snoring.

There was noise from behind the couch. Ziva bunched her fists together. She was ready to fight.

Ready to fight for them.

All of this had been for them.

"There you are," Tony said, his voice heavy with sleep.

Ziva turned around slowly, and found Tony standing in his boxers and OSU t-shirt, his hair spiked up with sleep.

"Did I wake you?" Ziva asked, as she pulled her legs up to her chest. She wanted to make herself small.

Tony slowly walked around the couch, and sat next to her. The couch sagged with his extra weight. He picked up the throw blanket from the end of the couch, and threw it over his lap. They sat perpendicular from one another.

"My bladder did," he said, as he reached across her lap for her hand. "When I woke up, you weren't there. I kinda freaked out for a moment."

Their fingers interlaced. She squeezed it.

"So Tali is not the only one who expects me to disappear whenever I turn the corner," Ziva said. The panic spoke for her.

You are a terrible mother.

Tony blinked a careful calculated blink.

"It's not like that," he said, his voice cracked. "It's just you weren't there. I'd gotten used to you being there."

She had caused so much hurt.

"I could not sleep," Ziva said softly, as the anxiety started to slip away. The sea was calmer than it looked. "I did not want to keep you awake."

Tony squeezed her hand, just like he did when she woke from a nightmare.

"You didn't," Tony said. "Our daughter does a pretty good job of exhausting me, every single day. Like I said, it was my old man bladder that woke me up."

Our.

That was her favourite word in her new life.

Our home.

Our favourite coffee shop.

Our daughter.

Ziva stifled a yawn with her spare hand. This was the cruelty of her situation, she was exhausted but could not sleep.

The insomnia was how the panic manifested itself now.

Insomnia and racing thoughts.

They do not want you.

"You are a good father," Ziva said, as their hand fell apart.

Tony shook his head.

"I'm trying my best," he replied. "I'm just glad our kid got her sleeping habits from me."

Ziva averted her eyes.

"Mine are nurture rather than nature," Ziva said, talking to her lap.

Tony shifted closer. His knee bumped the bottom of her sock-clad foot.

"I wondered if this might happen," Tony said softly. "After today."

Ziva sucked in a breath.

"Today was difficult," Ziva uttered, as she looked toward the Christmas tree in the corner.

They really needed to take that down.

When Ziva had suggested that over breakfast. Tali had declared it was far too early. It wasn't even new year yet.

"Things will settle down soon," Tony said, as he shuffled just a millimeter closer. Her fuzzy socks rested on his thigh. "Next time she falls over, she'll reach for you."

Due to the metro strikes, when the little family did leave their flat, it was to places they could walk to. Tali had gotten a scooter from Santa, and was rather insistent on taking it everywhere. Even though she was still a little wobbly.

Their adventure that rainy day had been to the shops. They had eaten their way through all of their Christmas leftovers, and Ziva wanted to broaden her family's culinary horizons.

She had visions of standing behind Tali in the kitchen, covered in flour, as she kneaded the dough for challah, of her grimacing as they released steam from the crock pot on a chilly evening, and of Tali carefully cracking the eggs into shakshuka. Those visions had nourished Ziva during their time apart.

Ziva wanted her daughter to have the type of memories she had with her own mother.

For Rivka David, food was love.

Ziva wanted to make sure her daughter only knew love.

Tali had taken a spill on the scooter as they navigated a crowded street. Her bright pink helmet and puffy coat meant that the only injury from the spill, had been to her confidence. That was an injury that would heal quickly.

However, what had broken everyone's heart, was that even though Ziva was the closest parent, and had rushed to Tali's side, Tali did not want her.

Tali wanted her Daddy. Tali only stopped crying when Tony wrapped his arms around her. Tali would only get back on the scooter when Tony promised her she would be fine.

Ziva thought she had done better at hiding her hurt.

"I have not been back long," Ziva said, as she looked toward the door to Tali's bedroom. "It is understandable for her to still be getting used to me."

Tony patted her knee, encouraging her to move closer. She slowly uncurled her knees, and laid them on top of the coffee coloured throw blanket. Tony absent-mindedly patted her knee.

The pink pyjama pants she was wearing were supposed to be a Christmas present, but when she had arrived at their door with just a backpack and pleas of forgiveness, they had let her open them early.

"I know it hurt," Tony said. "I saw your face."

Ziva's face flushed red.

She thought she had done better at hiding her pain.

They had looked so convinced when she stepped out of the shower with red eyes and a sniffly nose, blaming the cold weather.

"I did hurt," Ziva finally said, making good on the promise that she and Tony had made on her first night home. Honesty only, from this moment. "When she was little all I had to do was hold her and it would calm her. I was silly to think that would still be the case."

Tony reached for her hand.

"That scarf you left in the go-bag," Tony said. "It smelt like you. It was the only thing that would get her to sleep during those first few days. Even when it stopped smelling like you, she would reach for it."

Ziva had seen the scarf, hung above Tali's bed, like a dream catcher.

"What are you trying to say?" Ziva asked.

"I'm trying to say, that she still looks to you for comfort," Tony said softly. "I know she is treating you like an alien from outer space right now, but we'll get there. You've gotta believe."

Ziva nodded.

"I do," Ziva said, her voice shaky. "While I was away, I fought to be here, to have the chance to make up for my mistakes. I have so much to make up for."

Everything she had done had been to get back to them.

Her family.

Tony tugged at her hand, his finger moved up her wrist, and rubbed the scar she had gotten in Paraguay.

The scar Tony wanted the full story on. A story she had promised to tell him, once the two of them had some time alone.

"There is nothing to make up for," Tony said. "We've just got to find our groove. Get into a routine. It'll be easier once Little Miss goes back to school. These days always blur together, and we all get cabin fever. The strikes aren't helping."

Ziva's eyes felt heavy. She stifled another yawn.

"Thank you," Ziva whispered.

"For what?" Tony asked.

For letting her come back.

For telling their daughter stories of her, so that she was not forgotten.

For not being angry.

"For everything," Ziva finally said.

A smile crossed Tony's face. He picked up her legs, and pulled himself up from the couch in a rush, having remembered what roused him from his bed.

"I'm gonna go do what I got up for in the first place," he declared as he shifted his weight between his feet. "Then I'm going to go back to bed. I'll keep your side warm for you."

Ziva slowly extracted herself from the couch, ignoring the dull ache in her knees. She carried so many scars.

"I am going to try to go to sleep," she announced, as they stood in front of each other. "I will try not to disrupt your sleep any more."

Tony rested his hands on her shoulders.

"You are not a disruption," he said softly. "I sleep better when you're next to me. Always have."

Ziva looked up at him. She studied him. The grey in his roots, which made him look like his father. The lines around his eyes. The day old stubble on his face.

"When-," Tony started. "When I woke up, and you weren't there, I thought for a moment that I'd completely made up. I thought I'd finally lost the plot, and was hallucinating you being here."

Ziva flitted her eyes. She could not look at him. She had caused so much hurt. Perhaps too much hurt.

"Sorry," Ziva said. "I am so sorry."

Tony's hands moved from her shoulder, and took her face into his hands. He held her gaze for a few moments. Saying everything that could never cross his lips.

A siren wailed in the distance, causing them to break their eye contact.

"There's a rule about that," Tony murmured.

"Some rules are meant to be broken," Ziva replied.

She would apologize every day, and it would never be enough.

Tony flashed her a smile. His thousand watt smile. The smile that their daughter had inherited. The memories of that smile had sustained her during those years apart. The wilderness years.

"Let's go to bed," Tony said, as he moved his hands from her face, and stepped backward, heading toward the bathroom. "Munchkin will be up in a few hours, and she does not have an off switch."

Ziva stood for a second, in her quiet living area. Tali's toys were spilling out of their basket. The fruit bowl on the dining table, held the fruit they would try an coax Tali to try. The fridge held the food that the family would eat that night, on the sixth night of Hanukkah.

It was a home.

Ziva was home.

Quietly, she moved across the living area, weaving past the couch, and slipped into her and Tony's bedroom. She slipped under the covers.

Tony appeared in the doorway, and slid under the covers. His hands were still a little wet.

At least he washed his hands.

"Lalia Tov, Tony," Ziva whispered.

The clock on Tony's nightstand declared it to be early in the morning, in bright red letters.

"Buona Notte," he said, as he placed a quick kiss on her forehead.

They lay in bed facing each other, as the sandman came, and Ziva slept well for the first time since she came home.

A/N: I don't own a thing.

Here we are folks. The start of my big fic of 2020. I have at least a dozen different ideas for scenes featuring our favourite little family during their first year as a trio. This fic is the extension of 'And, The Heart Beats in Threes' that I talked about.

I am planning to share a chapter a week, and I've got at least a dozen chapters planned. Tony and Ziva will be the main characters, because I struggle with writing children.

The chapters are going to be about 2k words, and in basic chronological order. Our trio are going to go on lots of adventures. We're going to revisit various ideas during our journey, and see our favourite couple finally have a chance to design their life.

Thanking you in advance for any love, reviews etc this fic might get.

Next chapter next week. It may or may not involve New Years Eve.