Once again, for those whose experience is incomplete with out it, the disclaimer's in the first chapter. First off, I must say sorry for the long delay. Let's just say sometimes life's a bitch, isn't it? Second, Mil Gracias to TonyZivaFan and Sheep for helping me get this chapter out. And last but not least. There's a bit of M RATED stuff at the end of this chapter. It's nothing too graphic in my mind, but if bare boobs are not your thing, just don't read between the xxx's (I couldn't resist) Thanks, Jeanne.
Ziva smiled as she cradled a somnolent baby Timmy in her arms. She laughed as his tiny fingers curled around her index finger. This was probably why people planned on babies, because it certainly had nothing to do with anyone actually liking being pregnant. At least, not that she could imagine.
She looked up at Abby. She'd never seen her so thoroughly exhausted. She was nearly motionless in her hospital bed. Her pale face was flushed. A faint echo of lipstick ringed her mouth. "Abbs, he's perfect."
"That he is." Said Abby, her loving gaze fixed on baby Timmy.
McGee looked faintly seasick as he clasped Abby's left hand between both of his. He glanced back and forth between her and his newborn son as if he couldn't believe his life.
Abby studied Ziva's face, "So what did the doctor say?"
"The baby's fine. I'm going home tomorrow. I hope." Ziva said.
"Thank God." Tony said from the doorway. He sank into the chair besides Ziva
The pink baloney loaf fidgeted. Ziva propped him against her shoulder and patted his back. He unleashed an impressive amount of gas.
Tony bit back the urge to say like father like son. "Good rip kid."
"You want to hold him? Ziva asked.
"I don't think that that would be a good-" He began until he caught sight of Abby's eager face "-I'd love to." Awkwardly he extracted the hazel-eyed creature from Ziva's arms.
"Support his head. And his butt." McGee said.
"Okay." Tony cupped his left hand behind the baby's head: His right supported the baby's backside. His heart knocked forcibly against his ribs. Baby Timmy blinked at him. He blinked back.
"It's a baby. Not a football." Ziva said, adjusting his grip so baby Timmy lay nestled in the crook of his arm.
"Not it." Tony corrected. "He. Baby Timmy."
"Timmy." She smiled. She stuck her hand out and baby Timmy closed his tiny fist around her index finger once more. She wiggled it in his grasp and he cooed. She beamed.
White faced, Tony watched the interchange between the two. "You've done this before."
"Yes." She said without further explanation.
He let it go. "He's almost your clone Abby, but who'd he get the curly blond hair from?"
Abby and McGee looked at each other. Abby laughed. "Me I suppose, when I was a kid."
"You're a blonde?" Tony asked.
Tony lightly brushed the baby's whispy tuft of blonde curls. "He's so tiny."
"I beg to differ." Abby said. "He's a six pounder."
Ziva shuddered visibly.
The baby nuzzled Tony's chest, his head pivoting from side to side. "I don't think he likes me." Tony said as the baby let out a howl of disappointment.
"Let me try." Ziva lifted Timmy gently from Tony's arms and held him across her breast. She patted him reassuringly on the back making gentle shushing sounds. Timmy wailed louder and his head swiveled from side to side.
"He's rooting." Gibbs said, seeming to appear out of thin air in the room. "When they do that with their head they're looking to nurse. What?! I do know something about babies."
Ziva handed baby Timmy over to Abby. She settled him against her chest and flipped out a boob. Baby Timmy latched on and sucking, swallowing noises filled the room.
Tony jerked his gaze away from Abby's pale breast when he caught McGee's protective stare. "We'll be going then." He said, urging Ziva to her feet.
In the maternity ward hall, she circled an arm around his waist. "What's wrong?" She asked, sensing his unease.
He pulled her gently towards him. "Nothing." Everything. We're going to have a kid. I think I might want to marry you.
He could tell by her expression she knew he was lying but she didn't pry.
"What did you and mom talk about?"
He smirked. "She says once for the few weeks she breast fed you, she'd eaten a melon. Apparently you were allergic because your backend turned bright red. She said you looked like one of those red-assed baboons."
"Oh, and she had a hard time making sure your kept your clothes on in public."
"Most toddlers do, I think."
"Oh, and once you ate the family Goldfish."
"I was three. Ari! ….Ari dared me."
She fell silent and he could see her working hard to keep her emotions in check. "You going to nurse?"
"I don't think so. It's not like I can whip out a boob in the Bull Pen and pump. Plus…."
"Mother says they tend to squirt during sex."
He nearly tripped over his feet. "Fine by me. I don't really want to share them anyways."
Her eyes narrowed and she retreated from his embrace. "I suppose it's slipped your mind that I'm the one who does the sharing? They are attached to me."
"What? Do you want me to come right out and say I prefer them as sex objects than udders?"
"You're an ass." She said, pushing ahead of him through the door to her room.
He treated himself to a view of her yoga-pant clad backside. He was pleased to see she still moved with her swaying walk. Abby had been cute pregnant, but the last month of pregnancy her walk had been more penguin like. If it happened to Ziva, it was something he'd keep to himself. "I'm sorry. I just…."
"I know." She nodded, the soft note of her voice indicating that all was forgiven.
"How are you feeling?"
She gave him a wicked smile. "About like you."
"I'm warning you it's been so long it'd be a mercy mission."
She gave a little laugh and plopped down on the bed. "For who? Me or you?"
"Both I think."
"You staying?" She looked expectantly at him.
He leaned over and kissed her. "Got shopping to do before…" Before I lose my nerve. "…Before you come home. You're going to need something sexy, I'm thinking black, see through…."
She swatted at him. "I'd settle for a pair of jeans without that stupid elastic panel."
Jen ran her hands over the warm wood of the cradle. "I didn't know you could make anything besides boats."
"A few things." Gibbs said, drawing the last coat of varnish across one of the identical cradles occupying the place of honor in his basement.
"They're beautiful." She said. She gestured to one in the corner. "But why'd you make three?"
Gibbs' hands stilled for a moment betraying his emotion. "First thing I ever made."
"Oh." She said softly. "They're going to love them."
He nodded. "You want to order dinner?"
"Nah." She could have sworn his face fell ever so slightly. A slow smile crept across her face. "I thought I'd cook instead."
He grinned and picked up the paintbrush. "You make good chicken as I recall."
Ziva hummed as she rummaged through the uppermost cabinets of her kitchen. It felt good to be in her-no, their-apartment. She was safe. Tony was safe, and the baby was kicking out a steady beat against her ribs.
"Get off the stool." Tony said from a foot below her.
"You're pregnant and you're on a stool. No, you are not fine."
She glared at him, her eyes slitty.
"What do you want up there anyways?"
"Food." She said as she continued to rummage. "We haven't been shopping in ages and I think I've got a can of soup up here."
"I stayed here last night. There's pizza in the fridge if you want to heat it up."
"Oh." She accepted his proffered hand and descended from the stool with a little oomph. "Good I'm hungry."
"Me too. I got you a few things. I wouldn't mind a fashion show."
"Food hungry not sex hungry."
"Damn." His hands roamed her back as she slid two slices of pizza into the toaster. "Barefoot in the kitchen? If they could only see you now at Mossad."
"Mossad women do get pregnant. We're not some strange race of Amazons cutting off our right breasts, you know." She broke free and pulled two plates from the cabinet, wincing as her stomach bumped the counter's edge. She swore. "Pregnancy sucks."
"It can't be all that bad, I mean, you can orgasm in about five minutes flat! When does that ever happen to a woman? And you don't even look pregnant from behind!"
He barely dodged the air born coffee mug. It soared past his ear and exploded against the far wall in a spray of white ceramic shards.
"Quit it. I don't want to go back to the hospital."
"Sorry." She said with a smirk. "It was a hormone thing."
Hands on her shoulders he kissed her. "Hormone thing."
She mewled against his mouth; her fingers teased the zipper of his jeans.
"I thought you were hungry." He said regretting his words as soon as they left his lips.
Her lips barely left his. "Like you said. It's not going to take long."
She pulled away and raced ahead of him down the hall. He caught up with her in their darkened bedroom as she teetered trying to remove her underwear.
He flipped the lights on.
"No." She said, her back to him.
"Yes." He spun her gently around to face him. "Let me look." His eyes flitted over her body. It was the first time he'd seen her naked and obviously pregnant. Although her arms and legs were still slender, her belly was rounded in an unmistakable curve. Her swollen breasts begged to be touched: especially since he knew they were off limit. He felt his body respond, finding arousal in the simple fact that he'd been the one to do this to her.
She fidgeted uncomfortably. "I feel….Ugh."
"You're perfect." He closed the space between them in two steps and kissed her slowly, breathing her in.
Her hands sought his. Slender and strong they guided his eager touch. She sucked his neck as they learned the layout of her new body. Together they cupped her breasts before skimming her skin down to caress her belly.
She pulled her mouth roughly from his neck, noting with some satisfaction the red raised welt she'd branded him with. "Enough." Her lips curved in a smile. She nudged him backwards on the bed. "This is a mercy mission."
Ziva woke to an empty bed. She squinted at the clock in the pearly grey pre dawn. Five a.m. It was much too early for him to be up. She sat up. For a moment panic flashed in her chest: the apartment was silent and velvety black. What if their reunion had been only a dream? Anxiety churned her stomach. She rose swiftly and pulled sidearm from under her pillow. Silently she crept down the hall and peered into the living room. Tony sat with his back to her talking to himself: his words were indecipherable.
She sighed in relief and he jumped.
She deposited her Sig on the end table and sat next to him on the sofa, her hand rested on his knee. "What are you doing up?"
He played with her fingers. "Sometimes I can't breath around you." He said, surprised to hear his own voice, honest and steady.
Her voice was just above a whisper. "That's because you love me. Happens to me too." Her eyes shifted to the coffee table. A ring, a slender band of yellow stones glinted against the glass. "Is that what I think it is?"
"I'll take that as a yes."
"And you really mean it? My parents didn't threaten you with bodily harm?"
"No you don't mean it? Or no they didn't threaten your life?"
"I've never meant anything more."
She picked the ring up and felt it between her thumb and forefinger. It was narrow, set so the stones themselves appeared to be linked. "Are these sapphires?"
"In that case." She slipped it over her finger and held her hand out so the light glinted off the band. "Yes."
"You'll marry me?"
"I might never set a date, but I'll wear the ring."
"Perfect." He said as he kissed her, "Want to celebrate?"
She grinned. "Come on. I think I owe you a fashion show."
Again, Thanks to all who read, and thank you thank you to all who read and review. Let me know what you think. Reviews totally make me smile! Jeanne