Squeals of laughter precede the almighty crash of the Atlantic surf as the little girl runs on wobbly legs away from the waters edge.
She skids to a halt as she almost crashes headlong into the legs of her watchful, awaiting father, and Ziva smiles warmly as she stumbles and Tony steadies her with a laugh that carries down the beach. The little girl grins up at him, all bright eyed and innocent smile, before she startles at the thundering sound of another wave behind her, and squeals once more, grabbing her fathers hands tightly, pulling at him desperately to be lifted up.
He lets her squirm until the last moment; lifting her just before the incoming wave skims her sandy toes, but a panicked chirp of “daddy!” escapes her anyway. Tony has her anchored to his hip safely just as the wave laps at his legs, and she wraps her body around his tightly, intertwining her arms around his neck and burying her face into his neck to stifle her hysterical giggles.
And it is oh so contagious; the peal of innocent wonder that bursts from their daughter so often. It brings an instinctive smile to her face, and Tony is no exception. His smile is enigmatic as she meets his gaze, wandering closer to the pair, and as she approaches he murmurs something into the little girl’s ear, bouncing her a little to divert her attention. She turns her face from his neck to her mother’s direction, still resting her head against her father’s chest, and gives her a toothy smile, her face open and bright and so very happy.
And Tony was right in thinking she would love the ocean, and she can see the unsaid I told you so in his smirk as their daughter starts dramatically relaying their walk down to the pier for her. Ziva meets his smirk from behind their daughter’s back with a quirk of her lips of acknowledgement, and he grins widely as she draws near. Their daughter tugs at his damp shirt to be let down then, pressing a small kiss to Tony’s jaw with a plea, and he concedes easily, letting her down gently with a kiss to the top of her head. She looks up between both parents adoringly, pointing in the direction of which she and Tony came, desperate to show her mother the shells that lay scattered under the low rise of the pier.
She grabs their hands then, jetting forward, and they allow themselves to be pulled by the sandy little girl who is going on about the pretty shells like Ariel’s and hidden treasure and the mermaids that must be hiding behind the foamy, white-capped waves and the deep blue water; oblivious to the looks of amusement from her parents, or the intimate looks and kiss they lean towards each other to share.
She gives up running once it’s clear they intend to let her guide them, and she’s content to skip happily between them. Tony pulls her up high every so often, lifting her off the ground to elicit a peal of her tinkling laugh, and she swings between her parents on the warm, sandy beach in the setting, summer sun.
She’s a treasure far more revered than anything that could lie hidden in the sea.
An innocent little girl filled with wonder;
content and happy and unconditionally loved.
She skids to a halt as she almost crashes headlong into the legs of her watchful, awaiting father, and Ziva smiles warmly as she stumbles and Tony steadies her with a laugh that carries down the beach. The little girl grins up at him, all bright eyed and innocent smile, before she startles at the thundering sound of another wave behind her, and squeals once more, grabbing her fathers hands tightly, pulling at him desperately to be lifted up.
He lets her squirm until the last moment; lifting her just before the incoming wave skims her sandy toes, but a panicked chirp of “daddy!” escapes her anyway. Tony has her anchored to his hip safely just as the wave laps at his legs, and she wraps her body around his tightly, intertwining her arms around his neck and burying her face into his neck to stifle her hysterical giggles.
And it is oh so contagious; the peal of innocent wonder that bursts from their daughter so often. It brings an instinctive smile to her face, and Tony is no exception. His smile is enigmatic as she meets his gaze, wandering closer to the pair, and as she approaches he murmurs something into the little girl’s ear, bouncing her a little to divert her attention. She turns her face from his neck to her mother’s direction, still resting her head against her father’s chest, and gives her a toothy smile, her face open and bright and so very happy.
And Tony was right in thinking she would love the ocean, and she can see the unsaid I told you so in his smirk as their daughter starts dramatically relaying their walk down to the pier for her. Ziva meets his smirk from behind their daughter’s back with a quirk of her lips of acknowledgement, and he grins widely as she draws near. Their daughter tugs at his damp shirt to be let down then, pressing a small kiss to Tony’s jaw with a plea, and he concedes easily, letting her down gently with a kiss to the top of her head. She looks up between both parents adoringly, pointing in the direction of which she and Tony came, desperate to show her mother the shells that lay scattered under the low rise of the pier.
She grabs their hands then, jetting forward, and they allow themselves to be pulled by the sandy little girl who is going on about the pretty shells like Ariel’s and hidden treasure and the mermaids that must be hiding behind the foamy, white-capped waves and the deep blue water; oblivious to the looks of amusement from her parents, or the intimate looks and kiss they lean towards each other to share.
She gives up running once it’s clear they intend to let her guide them, and she’s content to skip happily between them. Tony pulls her up high every so often, lifting her off the ground to elicit a peal of her tinkling laugh, and she swings between her parents on the warm, sandy beach in the setting, summer sun.
She’s a treasure far more revered than anything that could lie hidden in the sea.
An innocent little girl filled with wonder;
content and happy and unconditionally loved.