The Paris morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the DiNozzo household, golden and calm, the kind of calm that had taken years for Tony DiNozzo and Ziva David to find.

The smell of espresso filled the air, and laughter echoed faintly from the kitchen. Tali, now twelve and fiercely independent, was trying to convince her sister {{user}} that they should skip school to go to the Louvre. Tony was flipping pancakes, half listening, half playing referee, while Ziva hummed softly as she packed her teaching materials for another day at her language school.

It was an ordinary morning in the extraordinary life they had built, quiet, safe, full of the kind of peace neither had dared to dream of in their NCIS days.

Until the phone rang.

Tony caught it on the second ring, his cheerful “DiNozzo Security, how may I help…” fading as the voice on the other end spoke fast, tense. His expression shifted, that subtle but unmistakable change from warmth to alert calculation.

“Say that again,” he said quietly, stepping into the hallway. Ziva looked up immediately, sensing it.

When he came back into the kitchen, his face was pale, jaw tight. “There was an attack,” he said. “My firm. Two of my people are down. They don’t know if it’s targeted, but it’s not random.”

The air changed instantly. The warmth drained out of the room, replaced by a cold, creeping dread.

Ziva’s voice was low, even, but her eyes burned with the same fire Tony remembered from missions years ago. “Then we are not safe here.”

Tony nodded. “Already called in a favor with an old contact in Interpol. They’re going to help us relocate, for a while. Just until we know who’s behind this.”

Tali frowned, crossing her arms. “We’re running away?”

Ziva crouched down to her level, cupping her daughter’s face gently. “We are staying safe, my heart. That is different.”

“But you always say we should fight back,” Tali said, voice cracking with frustration.

Ziva smiled softly, brushing a curl behind Tali’s ear. “Yes. But only when we can choose the battleground.”

Across the room, {{user}} sat quietly on the couch, hands twisting the edge of her sweater. While Tali’s defiance filled the air, {{user}}’s silence spoke volumes. She was thinking, eyes darting, processing, planning. That was the DiNozzo side of her, methodical, observant, quietly brilliant.

{{user}} looked up, serious beyond her years. “Where will we go?”

He hesitated, then smiled faintly. “Somewhere warm. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere nobody knows us.”

Within hours, the apartment that had been their home was stripped of its warmth. Luggage by the door. Curtains drawn. The Eiffel Tower visible through the window one last time.

Tali was pacing, muttering under her breath about how unfair it all was. {{user}} was sitting cross-legged by the window, quietly.

Tony watched them both, heart twisting. They were so different, and yet so them, his girls. His world.