Summary: Taking a page from modern maestros: telling a life in a day. - Tali DiNozzo is back in Washington and reminiscing about her life. Jumping off all those post-"Family First" stories, this is my swan song to the tune of a life lived together, told through their daughter's eyes.

Note: A last fic, for the inspiration they provided over the years. - Coginom.

~*~*~ Unfoldings: A Day in the Life *~*~*

The soft September breeze made her auburn curls momentarily dance on her shoulders. The grass beneath her heels gave way in a faint crunch, remnants of last night's early freeze. She had clearly felt the brisk bite of cold air on her face when she had departed the plane yesterday. Washington winter was promising to be premature this year, especially compared to Europe. She hadn't yet needed to flaunt her new coat back home, but here she was, shifting slightly to retrieve the photograph from inside its pocket. A smile on her face, she let her eyes wander over it.

It had been their first picture as a family. At the thought, her huff left vapory traces before her. Did a picture make a family? Did being in the same place all the time? She doubted it. As her mother would say, "Family is in the connections we feel, Tali." She was right, her mother. She so often was, really. The smile returned to Tali's face with the echo of her mother's voice in her head.

She traced a gentle fingertip over the creases the photograph had sustained over years of changing hands and being shuffled from one picture frame to the next. She fondly remembered one of her parents' typical bickering matches over who had lost the treasured photograph during their last move and then their matching smiles when they found it soon thereafter, proudly placed on a shelf in Tali's room. She had never let go of it again in the ensuing years. Except for that one time, of course, when her dad had taken it to fix the frame. Levi had knocked it over, accident or not, tossing around a ball in her room during his baseball-phase.

Tali chuckled slightly. It was the only sound in this eerily quiet, deserted place at 6 o'clock in the morning. "Oh, Levi…", she whispered, his name almost inaudible amid her sigh.

Her brother's various stints with various sports had defined their early teenage years just as his injury second-year of college had a big junk of their 20s. Basketball had been his thing eventually, just like it had been for their dad, and he had been driving their dad's Mustang when a truck T-boned him.

~*U*~

"I got here as fast as I could," she panted, arriving at the room number the lady at the reception desk had read off to her.

Her hair was tousled, her shirt sweaty from a day of classes interrupted by her father's urgent phone call, and her knees felt close to buckling after having run most of the way here. She dropped her bag to the floor, still open from when they insisted she ID herself to enter the ICU. Her eyes were brimming with questions, but her father just looked at her. A small smile formed on his lips like it did every time she managed to get away from schoolwork and come home for a few days.

It took another moment before he opened his mouth, his smile quickly dissipating. "It doesn't look good, princess."

"Wh- Why? Abba, what happened?", Tali asked, her tone more insistent than before. "Where's Levi?"

"In there."

Tali followed the direction of her father's nod and found herself peering into a small hospital room. There he was: her brother, barely 20 years old. He was a big guy, much like their father, but he looked vanishingly tiny in that hospital bed. His face was dotted with cuts. A gash on his forehead was covered with white gauze. His eyes, though - Ima's eyes - were plastered to the ceiling. He wasn't moving, wasn't talking. Their mother was sitting beside him, just staring at him with her hand placed on his chest.

"His lower back, something got jammed or I don't know," her father explained from behind her. His voice was low, labored.

"But he's okay, right? He looks okay," she stammered, not turning around. "I mean, we have people running around with robot limbs operated by their thoughts, essentially, and 3D-printed nerve endings. It's ridiculous to think that-"

"He'll be able to walk again, sure," he offered, his hand now resting on his daughter's arm. "But this is the big one, I'm afraid."

"What'd the doctors say?"

"They gave him a year to regain full motion and fine motor skills. Half a year maybe, if he is, you know… Levi. But this is it."

Tali finally turned to face her father, shock etched on her face as the truth of the moment sank it. "He's paralyzed."

"For now," he added, his small smile returning for her sake alone.

She knew the memories this was stirring up for Abba. With a brother like Levi, who excelled at every sport he tried his hands at, almost annoyingly so, and was studying on an athletic scholarship funded by the U.S., their father's basketball career and its premature ending was one of those family myths, those stories that shaped how they ordered Levi's endeavors into their lives. Every sprained ankle, tired ligament, or stupid carelessness had always circled back to the same thing, the same cautionary tale, the same fear.

"Life changer, but not the end of the world, okay?", her father insisted, reading Tali's pained expression.

She briefly glanced back into the room, neither her brother nor her mother had moved at all. "Has he said anything yet?"

Her father shook his head. "You know your brother."

"Ima…"

"If you'd want anyone to show you how to pick yourself up, it'd probably be your mom," he offered with a knowing smile.

Tali returned it, if only briefly, before falling into her father's embrace. "This is just so… Fucked up," she declared.

Her father chuckled slightly, kissing the top of her head. "A greater truth may've never been spoken."

"I'll stay. At least for a week. To help Ima." She knew in her heart that the next couple of weeks or even months wouldn't be pretty.

She could feel him nod. "It's going to be okay. That truck hit him on the driver's side. He's lucky to be alive. We all are." Her father gently placed the palm of his hand against the side of her face, holding her tightly against him like he had always done, for as long as Tali could remember. It had the same calming effect each time.

"Everything else we can deal with. You know it."

*~U~*

Levi never played basketball again after that. Soon it hadn't only been the legs that wouldn't move at his will. His wound got infected and they were sorely running out of antibiotics to try and get a handle on it. The stuff that eventually did the trick left his system weaker than it had even been before. It took him years to bounce back and find a different way to live his life. He was a counselor now, with his own company, liaising with the state, with schools and colleges. The real Levi, however, still only ever came out when he was coaching a wheelchair basketball team. And they were good, too. Playing national.

Tali laughed at herself. She could talk about her brother all day, she was so proud of him. It had been so hard to come back from the accident. She remembered the day he got his college diploma, after years of being on the brink of giving up, and how he had leaned back in his wheelchair, front wheels in the air, cheering along to her and their parents. She would never forget the tears in her mother's eyes that day and how her parents never quite seemed to let go of each other's hands. They had been celebrating more than a diploma that day.

She had always prided herself on being her parents' confidant, especially her mother's. It was a thing, being the older sibling and all, but also that whole business about having been conceived in the middle of an orange grove during her mother's years of repentance. Her family had a rule about being honest, the least you could do. "And it only took us half a lifetime of therapy to figure that out. Each," as her father would usually be quick to add.

She always thought she understood her parents, better than anybody. It took a lot of growing up and, eventually, having a child of her own to realize that she didn't even know half of it. You never quite understand your parents; their lives before you. She had some very good, very disconcerting ideas about what had made Ima's words ring with all shades of 'been there, done that' whenever she had tried to get through to Levi about not giving up on himself. But Tali knew those were just bits and pieces of a much larger story. God knows, she had about 67 stories and a half in her own repertoire she had already sworn never to divulge to her son.

Benjamin Eli Anthony DiNozzo: nine years old and going on 31. At the thought of her son, she felt a pang of- What? Guilt? What a cliché. And still. She had left him back home. It was the middle of the school year and this was just too short a trip and too work-related to warrant his tagging along. She did want to bring him to the U.S. someday, show him some of his family's roots, so they wouldn't go forgotten. But it had been a long time since she herself had been to Washington, where her parents met and everything had started. The opportunity had come about unexpectedly, but she had quickly added a day to her trip to-

Again, she wasn't quite sure what she was doing here. She had been here before; their parents had taken her and Levi to the States a number of times. She knew the stories. It wasn't so much that she felt the need to reconnect. She didn't feel like she was missing anything from her life. It felt like checking in. Yes, checking in - to make sure what of her family's past was still there.

Tali reached into the other coat pocket and pulled out their latest family photograph. A friend had taken it around the time of Hanukah last year. Comparing it to the photograph of her parents, flanking and both holding onto her at that café in Paris in the summer of 2016, time certainly hadn't passed them by. Abba's hair now was all white, like Senior's had been, but his goofy grin was still the same. And Ima - her smile still radiant, her eyes still piercing, and her auburn hair still long, now streaked with grey.

In the one, they had just found each other again, and she, Tali, had been the reason. In the other, the two of them, together for more than 35 years, were the reason they had all come together that day: Levi and his fiancé, and she, Tali, along with Benjamin and Caleb, her second husband.

~*U*~

"Unca Levi!", Benjamin yelled excitedly from the foyer, already sprinting towards his Uncle at full speed.

Levi turned his wheelchair just in time to lift the three-year-old into his lap. "Hey there, champ! Where's your mom?"

"Right here," Tali announced herself as she stepped into the living room.

Her parents had quickly appeared behind her brother; too unusual was her appearance on the scene. She faintly remembered a conversation with Ima a few days ago and having been told that Levi would be over for dinner tonight. She had curtly declined the invitation that had hung on her mother's lips at the time. Life's little ironies, she thought. She could see her brother and parents exchange worried glances. Well, her face apparently matched her feelings, then.

"I'll set two more plates," Abba said, shooting her a brief smile.

"Unca Levi, let's do a race," Benjamin piped up, unceremoniously grabbing his Uncle's face and turning it towards his, away from studying Tali's expression.

"Dinner will take another half an hour to finish," Ima added, giving her son a pointed look.

Levi quickly understood and, finding himself on a mission to preserve his nephew's obliviousness to the situation at hand, nodded his head. "Buckle up, big guy," he ordered the three-year-old and started wheeling both of them out into the hallway.

Tali accepted her mother's arm around her waist and allowed herself to be guided out onto the patio. Sitting down across from her mother, she soon found a glass of scotch in front of her and Abba's knowing eyes joining them at the table.

"What happened this time?", Ima asked softly, her hand hovering close to her daughter's.

Tali didn't look at them. Instead, she absently traced the rim of her glass, focusing intently on the movement of her hand. It took a while until she breathed out a sigh. "I think we're done," she said finally. She looked up in time to see the look shared between her parents. "You're disappointed."

"Never." Ima's response was quick to follow.

"Princess, there's really nothing you could do, believe me."

Tali managed a small laugh. "Screwing my son out of a family? I think I'm pretty close, Abba."

"Don't think like that, my love."

"It takes two to tango, princess. Or, in your case, three or four."

She huffed at her father's sour expression. Her husband's infidelities weren't a secret, and hadn't been for a long time. That was the thing about marrying into Parisian haute société: the ponds were rich, literally, and painfully small. You basically rubbed up against each other everywhere you went, whatever you did.

"He forgot Benjamin again," Tali continued. "I had to leave a meeting with the Chilean Ambassador to get him. And here I am. As usual."

"Your room is always ready for you."

"When you're 35 and your parents need to buy a bigger bed for your room, that should make you think, shouldn't it?"

"Whatever you need."

"Your father didn't buy a bigger bed until we had to stay there."

Tali chuckled slightly. "Fair enough. Like father, like daughter," she added, her thoughts traveling to those first two months of being a family. "I swear, if Ben's father were paying only half as much attention to his son than you did when you found us, things would be… Different, I guess."

"Tali, ahava," her mother started, "You have your son. You take your son and you make a life, any way you can. You have your whole family to help. You will be fine."

"He'll be fine."

Tali lifted her eyes to meet her father's. "What if he tries to take Benjamin away? Just to spite me?"

"If he tries anything, you'll have your mom to kick his ass," Abba assured her, earning himself a look. "She throws a mean punch around lying bastards as well, if I remember correctly."

"As if I would be any worse than you," Ima huffed in return.

"Whose ass are we kicking? I'm in. Oh wait," Levi threw in, appearing in the doorway with Benjamin. "Can't move my legs. You know what? I'll just run him over with my wheelchair when he's down. Team work they call it."

"Dude, what a strange sense of humor you have," Tali retorted, shaking her head and yet returning her brother's grin.

"Yeah, how come you never mastered the DiNozzo brand of charming mischief and comedy?", their father mused, cocking his head to the side. "You sure you're not adopted, son?"

"Pretty sure, Abba. My good looks are all David," Levi shot back, handing Benjamin over to his mother.

Her mother, on her way to check on dinner, dropped a kiss on Levi's head and patted his cheek. "Always the right comeback, my love."

"Your Uncle is such a Momma's boy," Tali commented to her son.

"So is yours," Levi said, lifting himself onto one of the patio chairs.

"Touché."

*~U~*

In Benjamin's life, there was the man who fathered him and then there was his father. Caleb and her little boy had quickly hit it off, their second face-to-face in. Otherwise, she had promised herself, there had been no chance in hell she would've married again. Caleb was so much more modest, honest, and grounded. In comparison, their wedding had been a small affair: city hall, a whole of 12 people, and no pomp or embellishment whatsoever. That is, except for her father walking her from the entrance gate to the official's desk. Abba had launched into a whole spiel about how it was his duty and honor and the right thing to do. She had resisted until a gentle tap on her shoulder and a knowing smile from Ima had dissolved her last reservations.

Tali looked at her watch, a birthday present from her parents. It was 6:22 AM and she was starting to run late. Bending down, she tucked both photographs under the flowers she had put there earlier. She brushed a single fallen leaf from the grey-marble headstone and straightened back up.

"So long, Uncle Gibbs," she whispered, her eyes tracing his name, etched into the stone in silvery letters. She lifted a hand to a faint salute. "Semper Fi."

With a final nod and a glance at Shannon's and Kelly's headstones right next to Gibbs', Tali turned and left. On her way to the government-issued car on the far end of the lot, she remembered the first real meeting between her and her parents' old boss. Sure, they had officially met before her parents had moved them back to Paris, but from what she had gathered over the years, from Ima's and Abba's truncated retellings, it had been a tense reunion back then. Things had been said. Other things had been left undone. They had staged their first real return on the occasion of Gibbs' retirement. She must have been around 6 years old.

~*U*~

"She gets a little shy around other people," Ima said, an apologetic look in her eyes.

"Sure doesn't get that from DiNozzo." Gibbs offered her a crooked smile.

"Ah, working on it with this one, though," Abba said, nodding at baby Levi in his arms who, for his part, seemed way more interested in the overhead lights.

"Tali, do you not want to say hello to your Uncle Gibbs?", Ima asked, now bending down to her level and effectively robbing her of the coat she had been so adroitly hiding behind thus far.

"Not being on a screen makes a world of difference, huh Tali?", Gibbs said, now also kneeling before her.

"I'm sorry, Gibbs-"

He waved her mother off. "How bout we start over, kid?", Gibbs said, extending his hand. "I'm Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Nice to meet you."

"Like Levi," Tali responded quietly, more for her Ima's benefit than Gibbs'.

"Yes, neshomeleh. It sounds the same, doesn't it? Levi Jethro."

Gibbs smiled at her. "Can't be that bad of a guy, then."

Tali eyed him skeptically for a moment, then finally took a step away from her mother and took Gibbs' hand, shaking it in determination. "DiNozzo, Talia Elizabeth DiNozzo," she introduced herself like Abba had taught her to. "But everyone calls me Tali."

"Well, hello Tali."

"Shalom, Uncle Gibbs."

*~U~*

It took another visit and a few more conversations, many of them transatlantic, but they did eventually fall into a rhythm between the life her family was living in Paris and the life they had been living, and were at times going back to, in Washington. They would always stay at Uncle Gibbs' place after that. One summer she and Levi had even helped him remodel the upper bedrooms, so that it even looked as though more than one person was living there, at least some time of the year. Tali knew for certain that Abby's daughter and McGee's and Delilah's kids would visit even more frequently than her family.

Her parents had never gone back to NCIS, of course. Abba's decision to leave for her sake had stuck, even after they had been reunited with Ima. It still left her a little disbelieving to think that her parents finally getting together took a mortar attack on Saba Eli's old farmhouse, her mother faking her death, and a "Find me" written on the back of a chance photograph.

When they returned from Washington and rented that small place a little outside of Paris, Abba soon moved to set up a private investigative service. Local police would contract out to him on missing persons cases. It seemed there were just always too many of them. He was quite adamant about his field, too. He wasn't spying on people, settling scores or uncovering extramarital affairs. "I have a knack for reunions," he would say. He really did. It also took all the more out of him whenever he failed to realize them.

Sometimes Ima would help out, but mostly memories of her mother involved her just being there, being home. She had offered self-defense classes out of a basement rec room for a long time, and really quite successfully so, and she had picked them back up later, after Levi's accident had put an end to them for a while there. Ima, for her part, never went back to work full-time, however, not the way she had done at Mossad or NCIS.

"I have lived a whole lifetime before you, my love," Tali had once been told.

She had yelled at her mother, not knowing any better at the time, about how embarrassed she had been in class, unable to identify her mother's profession. Mère au foyer appeared so incredibly antiquated at the time, and to a twelve-year-old hitting early puberty at that. Defining herself and her identity, much as her heritage, had been so much harder around Ima than it had ever been with Abba. During her teenage years, Ima had often and easily gone from her rock and confidant to a scorned sparring partner in a matter of minutes. Abba, as always, had been the man in the middle.

Only many years later did her father's oft-repeated words of caution make sense to her. Back in the day, however, she had of course seen them as Abba siding with her mother. All those times he had told her to tone it down and go easy on Ima. How often she had overshot the mark, kept pushing in spite of the pained expression so evident on her mother's face. That usually had been the point when her father had jumped in, knowing so much better all that Ima had been holding back and of her reasons, all that she had not been able tell her daughter and still had so wanted her to understand. Not yet at least, at the time.

It all was quite ironic, really, given her next destination; the reason for her recent visit.

"Where to now, ma'am?", her driver asked from the front seat.

"Navy Yard, Director's building."

"Very well."

She had come to Washington as an envoy of the American Ambassador to France. NCIS had been chopped up and glued back together enough over the years that they had dissolved most of their offices overseas. A massive security breach in the Navy's North Atlantic fleet and two dead sailors on French soil, however, now warranted the visit of an Embassy envoy at NCIS Headquarters. Too many transatlantic communication protocols had been breached, too much might have been at stake.

She grabbed the folder of sit reps from her bag, willing herself to focus on her job rather than the streets of Washington as they shot past the tinted windows of the car. It proved quite hard, though. This trip was bringing up a lot of memories and it didn't help that she had read each of the reports in that folder ten times over on her flight.

She fell back against the headrest and looked outside. She had to admit, having a driver had its perks. Abba would've definitely enjoyed the hell out of it. Ima had always been the driver in the family. It was also she who had taught both Levi and her to drive. It meant somethign to Ima. It had been one of the last things she and Safta Rivka had done together, and Abba had readily conceded. He had assured them, too, that Ima had toned down her driving a couple of notches over the years. It had still been quite the experience. She remembered none of her friends ever having been encouraged to "drive with confidence".

"Front entrance, ma'am?", the driver called back to her.

"Yes, please."

When she got out of the car, straightening her attire, she was faced with a building she had never been before. It looked like a bunker, she surmised, with curly end parts on the windows. Stepping into the lobby, she was greeted by an older agent, his badge flashing tellingly at his side.

"Special Agent Vance," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

She slung her bag over her other shoulder and proceeded to shake it. "Tali DiNozzo."

"I know. The Director is expecting you," he nodded curtly. "Follow me."

It took a while to cross two hallways and go up three floors to get to the Director's and surrounding offices; and she didn't recognize a thing.

"Have you been here before?", Agent Vance asked in the elevator, a deft attempt at small talk.

"I haven't, actually," she responded. "Didn't have a reason to in previous visits."

"Only know the old buildings, then."

"Yeah. Are they still there?"

"Not been torn down yet."

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips and all that a little despite herself. He returned her smile briefly before leading her out of the elevator and down another hallway. She noticed the still shade of blue and grey they had chosen in lieu of the bright orangey walls she remembered from years ago.

"If you'd like, I can take you there after the meeting," he offered suddenly, holding a door open to her. "Nothing special there to find, except… Well, if you know what you're looking for."

She stopped. "I'd like that. Thank you."

"Sure," he said. "Right through here."

She passed a few desks on her way and stepped through high double doors before she was greeted by a whole NCIS-welcoming committee, including SecNev. Briefings went for almost three hours, in which she found herself skillfully navigating the many toes she wasn't supposed to step on. Procedures were agreed on, as were messages to be relayed to Parisian officials, and when she stepped back out of the office she left with amiable promises to make this trip again, and soon.

Waiting outside the first row of offices, she found, a little to her own surprise, Agent Vance. He nodded at her and once again led the way. They went back a different route, exiting the building at the back and crossing half of the Navy Yard until they found themselves in front of a far more familiar building. There was no security check, however, and they made a beeline for the elevators.

"Word on the hill is, you're well on your way to getting the big office," Agent Vance asserted casually as the doors shut to a close.

Tali shot him a brief sideways glance, a sly smile on her face. "Only if they can overlook some of the more…intricate details of my family tree."

"Clean rise up the ranks. International postings. Rapport with all sides of the isle," he held. "You're as solid as they come, I thought."

He appeared genuinely clueless about where she came from and who she was: the granddaughter of one of the most controversial figureheads of Israeli intelligence in the past century and the daughter of an ex-Mossad operative with that "ex" arising from a particularly fraught chapter in U.S.-Israeli relations. Tali thought it best to just leave him to believing his own truth and instead stepped up to the railing. Looking down, her eyes surveyed the large open space beneath them. Only a handful of people were there working. It looked nothing like it had years ago and neither did the people, nor their work.

"It sure has changed," she observed.

"That's right, your parents were NCIS agents back in the day", he said, coming up beside her. "Yeah, when they downsized the agency, this building fell to the cyber-units. Our main office houses the newest tech, but communications all run through here. Like an admin hub, you know?"

His explanation was unsolicited and Tali nodded, vaguely appreciative, despite not really having paid attention. She was too preoccupied with putting this scene up against her memories of the few visits she had paid to this place with her parents and her brother. The last time must have been some twenty-five years ago when she was 13 or 14. The investigative units had just been subjected to some major reshuffling and her Uncle Gibbs' old team was breaking up, its members dispersing - these people she mostly knew from memories, stories, and sometimes longer, sometimes shorter conversations mediated by a screen. As far as she knew, Ellie had staid on. Abby and McGee had been key in revamping the cyber-unit and McGee rose up the ranks as far as Assistant Director before retiring a few years ago. His retirement party was the last time they had all come together here in Washington.

"Thank you," she offered sincerely, turning to look at Agent Vance.

He smiled. "You're welcome. I come here myself from time to time. To think." She nodded, understanding. "So, where to now?"

"I still have a little bit of time. I might just wander around the Navy Yard, if that's alright," she answered slowly, thinking out loud.

"I will tell the car to stay put."

"Thank you."

"And if somebody asks, just tell them you're the Ambassador," he offered with a sly smile. "Won't be long anyway."

She caught herself laughing at the thought and yet, her heart had jumped a little when he had addressed her as the Ambassador. They bid their goodbyes and she let her eyes fall on the remnants of the squadroom once again. It had been there that her parents had met. Something about phone sex, she didn't know the details. Years of experience with her parents had taught her, sometimes she just knew not to pry. Sometimes she just didn't care to know, as with the phone sex remark. And sometimes they were their memories and theirs alone.

~*U*~

"I was sitting right here," her father explained, gently maneuvering Levi around his old desk. Levi followed Abba's silent instructions and finally settled down in a chair two times too big for him.

"And your mom was over here." He took a hold of Tali's shoulders, his massive grin meeting her scowl, and led her, somewhat more forcefully than he had her brother just a moment before, around their mother's desk and towards her chair. He looked at her expectantly and Tali shot her mother a questioning look, receiving only a vague shrug in response. Sighing a little, Tali eventually took a seat.

Building himself up to full height between the desks on the main floor of the bullpen, their father opened his arms and launched into a long exposition, like a movie director setting up his shot. "This, dear offspring, is where we spent our time investigating and following leads and chasing bad guys. Long late nights of bad takeout and stale air," he narrated, then squatted down, alternating a strangely intense look between them. "And this was our perspective. Always with an eye on one another. Looking, not looking."

"This is where you met Ima too, right?", Tali asked, leaning forward on the desk.

"Yes, I was sitting right where your brother is sitting now and I was on the phone or not really, and she just walked up to me and asked if I was having phone se-"

"Tony," Ima stopped him.

"Right." He got back up and turned to face her, a grin on his face. "Not appropriate for pre-teen ears."

"I'm not a pre-teen anymore," Tali insisted, but her parents didn't hear her objections. Now they were standing in the middle of the bullpen, kissing, and Tali couldn't do anything but flop back into the chair with an annoyed huff.

"DiNozzo! David! Cut it out, will ya?", Gibbs' booming voice emerged from behind the partitions.

Ima laughed. "Hello Gibbs."

"Hey Gibbs," her father returned casually, falling in beside her mother. "We were just reminiscing."

"Sure. Just what it looked like."

"Uncle Gibbs, are we going to see the ships now like you promised?", Levi asked, walking up to them.

"Yes, we are," Gibbs assured the little boy, bending down to his level. Then he turned to look back up at the others. "Where is that party I've been hearing about?"

"Oh, it's in the new building halfway across the Yard."

"Thought that wasn't even nearly finished."

"It's not, but that's never stopped anybody before."

Gibbs cocked his head to the side and nodded, getting back up. "Let's go, then."

*~U~*

When she reached into her bag to get out her sunglasses, she could feel her phone buzzing against her touch. She took the earpiece out of her pocket and slipped it into her ear, pressing a button on her phone with the other hand.

"Shalom, sis."

"Levi."

"Astute as ever," he quipped. "How's Washington?"

"Schizophrenic about its weather, apparently," she commented wryly, lifting her eyes to the sun, now set against blue, cloud-less skies. She had already abandoned her jacket and slung it over her bag and was carrying her winter coat.

"Meeting went okay?", he asked then, his tone more serious.

"Uh-huh."

"What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, but without really making the effort.

"What's wrong?"

"It's stupid," she waved him off, even though h couldn't see her.

"Guts never lie," Levi insisted and she could hear him sit down in his chair. In his own apartment, he had strategically positioned furniture and installed railings so he could walk some of the shorter distances with the little motion he had retained in his legs. His breathing stilled and she waited her turn.

"You sound like Abba."

"A first for everything, my dear," she could hear his smile. "C'mon. What happened?"

"It's just… There was this bit at the beginning. It's always a little nudge-nudge wink-wink and a little awkward. Introductions always are, I don't know if you've noticed."

"I have actually. Try it with your face at people's crotch level, though. So adds to the awkward."

"Always the one to offer perspective, aren't you?"

Levi laughed slightly. "I do my best. So, introductions were awkward."

"Yes. Since this was NCIS, my name set off a weird moment where they all simultaneously realized whose daughter I am," she continued, her eyes narrowing at the memory. "I don't know. Then someone made this really ill-fated joke about my citizenship. Like, did I have to apply for a visa or did I have a U.S. passport?"

"Jest is indeed an art form."

"Yeah… I don't know. It was weird. I mean, jeez... Yes, I'm actually the daughter of two U.S. citizens, thanks."

"We do have the option of applying for Israeli citizenship, never forget that," Levi added. "On second thought, Orli would never let us forget that." She smiled slightly, but offered nothing in return. "Tali?"

"Hmm?"

"Forget it. It was awkward. But you gotta ignore that. You ignore stuff that's much worse in your job every day."

"I know, this was just- It wasn't about my job, it was about me," she said, adding some emphasis to the last syllable. "It felt really personal, is all."

"It was, but you need to not care about this," Levi repeated. "They have no idea what Ima went through to become a citizen. You do. That's important."

"I know. I know, you're right." She blinked a few times, waiting for him to take the bait, telling her how he was, of course, always right. He didn't.

"Hey, you'll be back in time for Tuesday's thing, right?", he asked, no segue given.

"It's a pre-ceremony dinner, Levi. I'll definitely be at the real one, I can promise you that," she teased.

"I need you there, you know."

Her brother sounded completely serious, that's how important it was to him. She knew that. "Of course I'll be there. Front row or seat right next to you, whichever."

"Todah," he said. "I bought Ben a matching tux, by the way."

"You what?"

"Yeah, wait till you get back. He looks adorable," Levi gushed through a laugh. "So DiNozzo, according to Abba. Judging by the look on Ima's face, she doesn't disagree."

Tali laughed, picturing the scene. "Looking forward to it."

"So… Where you off to now?"

"I don't know. Wandering aimlessly around the Navy Yard at the moment. Suggestions?", she prompted. "My lunch with Uncle Tim isn't until 1:30."

"Uncle Gibbs' house?"

She shook her head absently. "I'll be driving by there tomorrow. Also, I went to his grave earlier and I don't think I have another one like that in me."

"Check out Uncle Ducky's mansion, then", he suggested. "And take pictures. I'm sure Ima and Abba want to see what Jimmy and Breena did with the place."

"Huh, that's actually a good idea."

"Always the sound of surprise in your voice."

She chuckled. "See you Tuesday, Lev."

"Hey, wait a second," Levi stopped her. "Actually, I called to tell you to check out the brochures and offers I sent you. I found this really great deal for all seven of us."

"Lev, are we sure about this, though?", she asked, sounding every bit unsure.

"I checked with Abba this afternoon. He agrees. She'll love it."

"But Be'er Sheva? She's only ever been to Tel Aviv with us."

"You do worry too much, sis. People are right."

"Maybe, but I mean, come on. It's where she handed toddler me off to a stranger and ran for her life while her childhood home was burning to the ground," she reasoned, recognizing the gravity of what she was saying with every syllable.

"It's also where it all started," Levi countered.

He didn't sound as though he was truly fighting her on this and she appreciated that. Looking around Washington's Navy Yard, however, she found herself wondering what beginnings really were and how there were so many of them.

"For what it's worth, I'm sure we can trust Abba to let it slip, muy casually, and he'll let us know," Levi offered finally. "You know he'd never let us do anything Ima doesn't agree with."

She nodded. That was the thing, really; a thing of trust. "No, you're right. It's a nice thing. I'll look at what you sent me tonight."

"Alright then. See you Tuesday."

"See you."

She hung up, a pensive look still on her face. Levi was right and Abba would know what to do, but Israel stirred all those conflicting emotions in her, especially in the way her mother was relating to it. It had become easier over the years, of course, and they had gone back many times. She had never met her maternal grandparents, nor the Uncle who died in the line of duty or the Aunt she was so obviously named after. She had seen pictures and heard stories. Ima had so many pictures, so many stories. But as much joy as they appeared to bring to her, they brought just as much sadness.

Her parents had had good reason to choose a place in-between, not Washington and not Israel. It probably was a good idea, though, to go back. She couldn't help it, she had always wondered about Be'er Sheva, the place she had lived in the first two years of her life: her first smile, first steps, first word. Even if she would never get the full truths (she doubted she actually wanted them), she was well aware, if vaguely, of why her mother had gone back to live at Saba Eli's farmhouse; and why Abba had left, gone back to Washington.

Ima fully admitted today that she had been scared, scared of a life with him, of losing him, not deserving it all. Tali had lost count how many times Abba had brought up his conspicuous absence in the first years of her life and had thrown it into Ima's face during a fight. It was never fair and he knew it. His words always aimed to hurt and she knew that too. But it was always there, never quite resolved.

It had taken her mother a long time to recover, a long time to claw herself back from Saba Eli's death and everything that had led up to it. She fully credited Tali for making that happen and she always smiled at that, but she also knew how much more it had taken. Ima had almost worked up the nerve to send off that letter she had written upon Tali's birth, including added detail of the in-between years, when she had received the tip from Orli about an immanent attack.

Tali herself remembered nothing of it today. Her memories, she felt, were a fabric woven from stories she had heard and pictures she had seen. She had no recollection of the fire or the airplane ride, or meeting Abba for the first time. She did, however, vaguely remember shadowy figures embrace in a dark room, thinking her asleep. Since their parents had never quite shared with them the details of their reunion in Paris, she felt it safe to assume that this was, indeed, her very own memory.

She smiled at the thought and finally managed to get a cab to notice her. She had no specific desire to have a government-employed driver take her to the private mansion of family friends. It seemed a little too personal, too vague, even for the day she'd had thus far. At the front gate she instructed the driver to wait for her and got out, strolling up the narrow gravel path.

She had no intention of alerting Jimmy to her presence, but knew she would be welcomed if they did discover her. It didn't look as if they were home, though. Jimmy and Breena had been only obscure acquaintances in her life. She had also barely gotten to know her Uncle Ducky before he had died, succumbing to the effects of a heart attack. Yet, her parents hardly let an opportunity pass to mention his name and what he had done for them.

~*U*~

She had heard the front door open and shut, the footsteps, the hushed voices. She had heard her mother's familiar steps on the stairs and down the hallway. She heard the bathroom door being gently pried open and still she didn't find the energy or even the impulse to open her eyes. The room was dark anyway, the curtains almost fully drawn against the summer sun. She was leaning against the bathtub, so low her neck aligned with the rim.

"Oh Tali, ahava…"

She could sense Ima's presence drawing closer and closer until she felt her arms close around her. She had kept her head back in an attempt to still her tears, but the second Ima drew her in she finally broke down. Sobs she had been holding back for the better part of an hour finally tore through her and she let her tears fall onto her mother's shirt.

"It's not fair, Ima. It's just- I don't know what I did wrong, what I could've done differently-"

"There is nothing you could've done, my love," her mother interrupted her. Tali could feel her words, spoken so softly and close to her ear. "These things happen. There is no reason. No logic. That alone makes it so hard to bear."

Tali couldn't even bring herself to nod. She didn't feel like nodding. Nodding seemed pointless and affirmative and this just wasn't the time or the place. She just clung to her mother as she rocked her like she had done when she was little. Faint thuds and clanging sounds from downstairs cut through the silence hanging in the room.

"Why me?", Tali asked suddenly, finding her voice and the most pressing question yet. When her mother didn't respond, she finally lifted her head and looked her in the eyes, almost defiant. "Why would this happen to me?"

Her mother just shook her head. She gently placed a hand on each side of her face and wiped at the moisture and the salty trails her tears had left on her cheeks. "I asked myself the same thing," she answered finally. "But there is no answer."

Tali's eyes widened a little and she leaned back, but not enough to slip away from her mother's touch. "When?"

"Before I had your brother."

"How'd I never know?"

Her mother offered her a sad smile. "You were three years old, my love. This was not for you to know."

"But after-"

"I am telling you now. It is more common than you would think," she said, shaking her head again. "But there is no rhyme or reason, yes? There is just not. And no answer."

"My uterus is inhospitable, it turns out," Tali recounted the doctor's words, lifting a hand to brush off the encrusted feeling of dried-up tears on her face. "Guess I've never been the homey type after all."

Her mother tilted her head to the side, just looking at her. Tali let out a laugh, as self-effacing as she could muster, and turned away. There was nothing to look at, though. It was all dark and heavy. They fell silent for a while again.

"Ducky always said that the two of you were my miracles," her mother said and took a hold of Tali's hand again. "With what had happened to me in that…camp, I should have been incapable of bearing any children. I wasn't."

"What if I am?", Tali shot back, feeling the perverse need to be right about this.

There was no answer to this question, her mother knew it. Still, her mouth opened in response. "We will see. You will need to have faith."

"Not feeling very faithful right now."

"And that is okay."

Tali nodded and she could feel the energy, the anger that had just surged within her, slowly dissipate again. She fell back against her mother and just accepted her arms around her. It took another couple of minutes before the door to the bathroom was opened again and her father's head appeared agains the doorframe.

"I cleaned up downstairs," he informed them quietly, taking a step into the room and yet staying in the doorway.

"I'm sorry it was such a mess. When I got home I just-"

"It's really okay, princess. It's all cleaned up and ready for you to take a swing at for a second time." He smiled at her and she could feel herself offering a small smile in return.

"Why wasn't he there with you?"

"Tony," her mother warned, alerted by the anger in his voice. Her hold on Tali tightened a little, but her daughter did not budge.

"Work, I think. I don't know. It doesn't matter."

Her father looked as if he wanted to disagree, and loudly so, but a single glance traveled between her parents and he bit his lip. Instead, he sat down on the floor in front of them and leaned against the door, closing it against the world. And so they staid for however long it took for Tali to finally fall asleep.

*~U~*

She wiped a sole tear from her cheek. What a strange day today was, she thought. The most disparate memories were coming back to her, lingered, and then left again. She did get her miracle in the end and the thought of Benjamin put a smile on her face again. She retrieved her phone from her pocket and proceeded to make the rounds along the front yard of the property, taking a few complimentary pictures for her parents in the process.

When she got back to the cab, she was already cutting it close for her lunch date. Calling Tim to let him know she would be a few minutes late and to start ordering, she felt relieved to hear that he was genuinely happy to see her. She didn't know why she had thought that this man was at all capable of not welcoming her with open arms, but in the end Gibbs' old team had disbanded and her parents had certainly taken the biggest steps away from that life.

But she wasn't giving them enough credit, she knew. Life happened, and it always would. Connections, her mother's voice repeated in her head. Her lunch with the McGees took up most of her afternoon and she did feel truly grateful that she could travel half a world over and still find familiar faces, people to share stories with; and memories.

When she got back to her hotel room around 5, it was her present that was calling out to her, however. She quickly discarded her formal clothes and threw on a shirt and some sweats. She threw her hair up into a bun and settled onto the king-sized bed, resting her back against the wall. She flipped open her tablet and strategically positioned it in front of her. She checked her text messages again and made sure someone on the other end had read her announcing herself for 5:15 pm.

Sure enough, the screen soon switched from the call sign to the familiar features of their living room. Yet, no faces were to be found.

"Anybody there?"

"Hold your DiNozzos," a familiar voice called from outside the frame. She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Had to dive for the remote. We played this game, you see. And Ben just, well, you know how much of a kick he gets out of showing me that I'm not in my prime 60s anymore. Anyway, I got it now-"

She only caught a brief glimpse of the silvery white sheen of her father's hair at the bottom of the screen before her perspective shifted and she was now staring directly into her father's eyes. He was sitting on the couch, his legs propped up on the coffee table and his cane leaning against the armrest.

"I thought you'd prefer the full frontal."

"I appreciate the effort, Abba."

"Knew you would, princess."

"So, where is that son of mine?"

"Asleep," her mother's voice responded as she walked into the frame and took a seat next to her father. "He tried, but 11 at night is a little too much for him."

Tali could feel her face fall for a moment. "Can't say I didn't expect that. Lunch with Uncle Tim ran a little longer than expected."

"You will make it up to him tomorrow."

"I have a conference call at 7, but I'll catch you at lunch before that. I promise."

"How's old Timmy McGoo?", her father asked then.

"He's good, genuinely so. They were just coming back from vacationing at Martha's Vinyard."

Her father laughed, turning to her mother. "See? I always told ya he'd become the man."

"What man?", her mother prompted with eyebrows raised.

"The man! The first, not the third. The one to do it all. Rise up the ranks and to the stars. From Probie to Superman, one fell swoop. Chop chop," he rattled off in response, grinning widely

"Ah… That man," her mother responded vaguely. The giveaway smile on face, however, Tali knew from experience, really was the only thing her father had been shooting for.

"I'm still trying to get in touch with Abby, but I'm not sure I'll have time to go all the way down to New Orleans en route," Tali continued her part of the conversation and pried her parents' eyes away from each other. "I'd risk missing Levi's thing and he'd never forgive me."

"Oh, he would forgive you too."

"You'd just hear about it every day," her father added. "Memory like a rhinoceros, your brother. Just like his mom." Her mother smiled knowingly, but still couldn't keep herself from swatting her father's arm.

"Be careful, Ima, you'll still manage to break him one of these days."

"Oh, but your father is sturdy, yes?"

"And so much more," he added sweetly.

"Jeez, cut it out, you guys," Tali said.

"Never have, have we?"

Tali smiled and shook her head. "I guess not."

"But you are alright, my love, yes?", her mother asked finally, her tone more serious than before. "With everything there?"

Tali nodded, appreciating the question. "Yes. Everything."

"B'seder."

"Okay, you two, I have that banquet tonight and I still have to get ready. Tell Benjamin I miss him and I'll see him tomorrow?"

"We will, princess."

"Laila tov."

"Buona notte."

And the screen faded to black.

~*~*~ The End. *~*~*