Okay, I couldn't help it, I decided that I needed to write a second chapter after I read through some more fics over a particularly boring weekend and found that I missed plenty more of them. Though it certainly doesn't come quite close to scratching the surface of all of the ones that exist.
Tony's still narrating. He did such a good job on the first chapter.
Thinking of proposing leads to asking for permission.
I don't know what it is that got me so nervous about it, but I felt my palms getting sweaty as I approached Gibbs in his basement and asked if I could speak to him.
He turned and looked at me, and I swear in that moment he already knew what was going to come out of my mouth before I did. How on earth does Gibbs know these things? Abby might just be right, that Gibbs is magic, or at least psychic. Gibbs just knows things. And I don't really know how he knows them.
He looked at me expectantly. Smooth move, ask if I can talk and then say nothing.
"Uh, boss. I was thinking," I started. I ran my hand through my hair nervously.
"Spit it out, DiNozzo," he coaxed impatiently, though he didn't stop sanding the boat so I don't know why he was so irritated, not like I was really interrupting anything.
"Yeah. Um, I want to ask Ziva to marry me."
"And you want my permission?"
"Well ... yeah." I braced myself for impact, but surprisingly, no slap.
"Why are you asking me and not her father?"
"I thought I stood a better chance of living through the night this way, boss." He smirked in response, and I knew I had a point. Though with Gibbs, I might have been better off asking Eli David.
I can't help wondering why I picked the woman with the two scariest men in the universe to protect her.
Which leads to the shocking revelation that I'd waited too long. Apparently.
"No objections here, Tony," he responded, which shocked the hell out of me.
"Really? But what about-"
"I'm not blind, DiNozzo, I'm actually surprised it took you this long."
"We've only been together a month, boss," I said, confused. Talk about rushing things, holy crap.
"To realize you two belonged together," he responded. Honestly, if I wasn't looking right at him, I would have thought it was Abby with some sort of a voice disguising program, pretending to be Gibbs just to mess with me. As it was, I wasn't entirely sure that I was really hearing the boss man quite right.
"Well, uh, thanks boss," I said, still a bit befuddled by it all. Befuddled. Where in the hell did that word come from? Befuddled. I find myself so charmingly befuddled. Ah yes, 'Family Guy.' I certainly do feel like I'm in one of those chick flicks that scene was referring to.
I lurched forward as a hand connected with the back of my skull. Damn it, can't I go one day?
"Get out of here, DiNozzo, and go get yourself engaged."
I nodded in Gibbs' general direction, then made my way back up the stairs.
Which leads to sleepiness ensuring things do not quite go to plan.
It was about ten in the evening when I got back to my apartment, and I wasn't surprised to find Ziva there, watching soccer. Since I have about nine thousand channels, she managed to find an Israeli match and was watching it intently. She once mentioned that soccer was not really a sport she enjoyed, but it reminded her of her childhood, watching games with Tali and Ari.
She stood up when she noticed me, and a big smile spread across her face.
"Well, hairiest of butts, what would you like to do this evening?"
"Movie?" I suggest.
She yawns. "I am kind of tired, Tony, I do not think I could stay up. It is pretty late to start watching a movie."
"What? Are you crazy? It's never too late to watch a movie."
"Well I am sure that I will fall asleep."
"Nonsense. We'll watch Forrest Gump. It's a classic! You'll love it. There's no way you'll fall asleep." And besides, if I'm going to work up the nerve to ask her, I'm gonna need the length of this movie to do so.
I pop the movie in and we settle to watch it. Ziva leans against my chest and I put my arm around her, enjoying the closeness. I quickly become absorbed in the story of the young boy meeting his one true love, so much so, that I don't even realize that Ziva is asleep by the time Forrest makes it to high school.
Well, shit. Guess I'm not proposing tonight. I mean, I could wake her, but if I do that, she might be angry, and angry Ziva scares me. And I want her to be in a good mood before I ask her to be my wife. Not that I think she'll say no, because, after all, who wouldn't wanna marry Tony DiNozzo, but I still don't want to take any chances.
No, I'd better not wake her up. Which leaves me in a hell of a predicament, because she's lying on me, and I have to pee.
Crap. Well, maybe if I sort of ease myself out from underneath her...
I'm squirming, just slightly enough to move but not so much as to wake her. It's doing nothing for the fact that I. Really. Have. To. Go. Pee. I scoot a bit further out from under Ziva, and she stirs in her sleep and manages to somehow entangle my thigh with her left arm.
"Ziva, I swear you are going to kill me," I mutter under my breath. "But god, I will love every second of it as you do." Magically, she releases her grip on me, and I quickly scoot away from her before her subconscious changes its mind, and I run to the bathroom to relieve myself.
As I'm washing my hands afterward, I can't help but wonder just how the hell anyone could sleep through Forrest Gump. It's a classic!
Which leads to a bullpen proposal amongst practically everyone.
I tried, unsuccessfully, to ask the woman to marry me, seven times throughout the day. Over breakfast, I started to ask the question, and she dropped her fork on the floor. She quickly hopped up to retrieve another one.
The second time, we were driving to work. She was driving, in fact, and she reached over and took my hand. The word 'will' started to come out of my mouth as she slammed on the brakes, apparently not completely aware that the light in front of us was plotting to change to red.
They do have yellow lights in Israel, I'm told, she just ignored them over there, too.
The third time I'd just about worked up the nerve, we were in the elevator, and I reached my hand into my pocket to grab the ring, when the damn thing dinged and some dweeb from accounting - I think - stepped in.
I rolled my eyes, silently cursing my bad luck.
The fourth time, at the hastily abandoned house of a suspect, I really just wanted to blurt it out, but in walked Gibbs before I even got the chance. Gibbs had given me permission, but he obviously didn't realize I'd chosen that moment. Looking back, the house of a murderer would probably not be a great place to propose.
The fifth time, over lunch, I reached over and took Ziva's hands in mine and told her I loved her, and wouldn't you know it, Abby chose the exact same restaurant to have her lunch hour. And joined us, with a greatly exaggerated "Awww," alerting me to her presence and interrupting me yet again.
I was starting to get irritated, though all of these people couldn't know what I was trying to do, could they?
The sixth time, we were in the observation room, waiting for Gibbs to bring in our suspect. He'd be arriving any second, but I figured I'd have enough time to pull out the damn ring and say four simple words.
I was wrong. As soon as I got my hands around the box in my pocket, the door slammed open and Gibbs sat the disheveled man in the chair opposite him.
The seventh time, I followed her up the stairs to MTAC, greatly trying to resist the urge to grab her ass (but at least enjoying the view), when I figured I might as well just go for it, and ran to catch up to her, tripping over my own damn untied shoelace, busting my face on the top step.
"Tony!" She exclaimed.
"I'm fine ... I'm fine," I waved off. I looked around. Everyone had noticed my great spill. Awesome job, DiNozzo. And as I stood up, and people continued to watch with great interest - perhaps to see if they could get a glimpse of any blood - I decided that right then and there would be a great place to propose, with everyone watching.
"Am I bleeding, Ziva?" I asked. If anything, I did not want to be bloody while proposing.
"Good." I reached into my pocket. "Well now that everyone has quite literally seen me fall for Ziva," I started, inwardly groaning at my own bad pun and kneeling on one knee, "I guess they might as well watch me continue to make a public ass of myself."
"Oh, my god," she murmured, so quietly that I barely heard her. Her cheeks were turning pink as she realized exactly what was taking place.
"Ziva, will you marry me?"
She nodded. "Yes," she said simply, seemingly too shocked to say anything more. I slid the ring on her finger, and everyone clapped, including Vance, and I'm pretty sure I heard a squeal from Abby. Wait, Abby? Why wasn't she in her lab? And wasn't that the janitor I saw in the corner?
I pulled her into my arms and kissed her passionately, the big goofy grin on my face matching hers as we sealed it: we were engaged.
And then I felt our foreheads crash together as Gibbs, from out of absolutely nowhere, came along and slapped us both.
Which leads to talks about keeping it out of the office.
"Ow!" Ziva and I cried in unison, rubbing our foreheads.
"You both know better than that! I'm changing Rule 12. To: Keep it out of my damn office!"
"Well boss, we just got engaged, you know, god it was just one kiss," I tried to explain, "and proper office etiquette in today's job market pretty much dictates that those who date in the workplace don't do it at work."
He glared at me. I looked to Ziva for help.
"Even in Israel we know better than to duck into offices for quick rendezvous, and other such inappropriate behavior"
"See? We know how it is! Everyone in America knows better than to get freaky at work! You didn't even have to tell us." I mean come on. Everyone in the universe knows you don't mess around at your job. How dumb does he think we are?
"Congratulations, Agent DiNozzo, Agent David," Vance cut in. "I trust you know that canoodling in the workplace will not be tolerated."
"Of course, sir," I responded. Ziva nodded.
"Head slap wasn't necessary, Agent Gibbs. It seems your agents are well aware of the consequences of letting their personal relationship interfere with their work."
"What if I just like doing it, Leon?" he asked with a slightly wicked looking grin.
Ziva and I ran down the stairs and back to our desks so quickly, we might have broken the sound barrier trying to get away.
Which leads to a wedding full of jumbled, confused vows.
Before I knew it, the big day had arrived, and I was standing at the altar looking at the woman I loved, dressed gorgeously in white, as she promised to love me - yes, me - for the rest of her life.
We'd written our own vows, and I was anxiously anticipating the moment when Ziva would tell me what was in her heart. Not that I didn't already know, but I never got tired of hearing her say it.
She was first, and the minister announced the fact that we had chosen to write our own vows. She pulled out a tiny slip of paper and began to read the words that she had written:
"I never was one to wear my heart on my wrist. Never expected that I would want to tie the bow. When I met you, Tony, I did not think the leopard could change his stripes. But I fell knees over heels for you anyway, and eventually, you did bloom. And as I stand here, you are my best friend. The apple of my sight. I trust you implicitly, with my life. Loving you is the frosting on the cupcake. And I promise to love you until the goats come home."
I laughed heartily. I'd written vows, but I suddenly chose to speak from the heart. "Ziva, I love everything about you, the fact that no one else in this entire room has any idea what you just said, but I understood you perfectly. From the moment you walked into my life, you've baffled me a thousand times, and you'll probably continue to. If every day in our lives together is as unpredictable as all the days before now, I can't see how I will ever be able to stop loving you."
I had tears in my eyes at this point, which kind of shocked me. Hey, I don't cry! But she had tears, too, and I could tell, what I'd said meant everything to her. I couldn't wait to spend the rest of my life with this woman.
Which leads to contemplations of family.
Looking over the room at the people who'd come to celebrate with Ziva and myself, I couldn't help smile at the family I'd gained over the years. There was the grandfather figure, the somewhat weird cousin, the little brother, the little sister, and of course, the only man I've ever come to regard as a father.
I thought perhaps I should tell him that.
Wait, what the hell am I thinking? No way. Gibbs doesn't do sappy. I'm actually surprised he's still here and not at home with a sheet of sandpaper in his basement.
And rounding out the family, I found, was the best of all: my new wife. Yes, I suppose I really did have a family at NCIS, both in the figurative sense, and now in the literal sense.
I mentally slapped myself in the back of the head for thinking such sappy thoughts.
Which leads to a dominant female partner in the bedroom.
The sex had been amazing from the first time, and never ceased to be. Every time with Ziva was something new, something different. Sex with her was adventurous and exhilarating.
I was, however, wondering why it was that I always felt myself pinned down on the bed while she practically danced on top of me. I know she said she enjoyed being on top, but damn, she sure does hold me down like I'm a wrestling opponent!
It's not to say that we don't enjoy different positions. But no matter how many different ways we find to do it, somehow, I always wind up on my back, pinned down beneath my sweet assassin, being reminded that she loves being on top.
And I always tell her that I know she does, and she always giggles.
Goddamn, Ziva can do whatever she wants to me as long as she never stops making that incredibly sexy giggling noise every time she pins me down.
Which leads to pregnancy.
"Two pink lines," she said with a big smile on her face, emerging from the bathroom.
"Yes!" I said, pumping my fist into the air. Ziva practically jumped into my arms, and I kissed her like it was the first time, the last time, and every time in between. I love this woman, and now I get to love our child.
I'm seriously going to be a father.
Holy fucking shit.
The thought scared the hell out of me, but at the same time, it thrilled me. And all I had to do was look at Ziva to know that she felt the exact same way as I did.
"Holy crap, Ziva, we're going to be parents!"
"Yes, we certainly are," she responded, smiling as I snaked my arm around to her stomach to just marvel at the life within.
"God, I love you," I said, devouring her mouth with my own.
"I mofphopohph," she responded into my mouth, pulling me tightly to her. Hell, I know what she meant.
Which leads to a great big happy family.
"Abby thinks it's going to be a boy," I said to Ziva as we waited for the ultrasound tech to come in and give us our first look at our baby. I couldn't wait to find out what we were having so I could start to decorate the nursery.
"I know she does," Ziva responded. "She bet McGee fifty dollars that she'd be right."
"Probie's moving up in the world if he's betting fifty bucks nowadays," I said. Ziva smirked at me, and the ultrasound tech came in.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. DiNozzo, I'm Laura. We're going to have a look at your baby today," she said.
"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking her hand. A few minutes later, I was already anxiously awaiting my first look at our baby. Laura was doing some measurements, which is apparently standard, but hadn't turned the screen around to show us just yet.
"Oh!" Laura suddenly exclaimed, and I jumped slightly.
"What is it?" Ziva asked, worried.
"This is incredible," Laura began. "It seems you are expecting eight babies."
My jaw dropped to the floor, as did Ziva's. "Eight?" she squeaked.
Laura turned the monitor toward us, and proceeded to point out every last one of our children on the screen. I couldn't believe it.
"Wow, I guess it really was DiNozzo super sperm," Ziva said later as we walked to the car.
"Yeah, no kidding," I answered. The obstetrician had advised us that Ziva would most likely be on bedrest for much of the last few months of the pregnancy, and that she'd almost certainly need to have a c-section, but all of that was stuff we could deal with in the future.
For now, I was just trying to absorb the fact that I was not just having a child. I was having eight. Where in the hell were we going to put them all?
"Well, you said you wanted a big family, huh?" I asked Ziva.
She laughed. "This wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind."
"Yeah, no kidding. But you know what? This is going to be kind of awesome. If anyone can be the kick ass parents of eight kids, it's definitely us."
"And there is absolutely no way in hell we will ever exploit our kids to be on some shoddy reality TV show."
"It already feels like a damn soap opera, doesn't it?"
"Or some cop drama."
We laughed together then, at just how ridiculous it could be. Really? A television show about us? Who would want to watch a show about Navy cops?
Which leads to a slew of names you almost expected us to pick out.
The entire team gathered with us in the hospital room to meet all of our children. Did I say gathered? I mean crammed. Seriously, hospital rooms are getting smaller and smaller. Though that might have something to do with the eight bassinettes.
Ziva had given birth to four girls and four boys, and every last one of them is beautiful, like their mother. Though if you ask her, she'll probably say they're all striking, like their father.
We're good looking people, what do you want?
Ziva was in good spirits after her labor, which was surprisingly short. All of the babies were asleep. I'm not sure how we managed that, and I'm sure it will never happen again, but for now, I'm content to count my blessings. Ziva began to introduce the babies.
"Tony and I are proud to introduce our children. Starting with the first born, and working our way down to the baby of the babies." She paused, and everyone chuckled. "First, this is Tali Sophie. And then we have Jennifer Kelly, Timothy Leroy, Jethro Donald, Ari Michael, Caitlyn Paula, Abigail Michelle, and James Gerald." She said quickly, moving to each bassinette as she spoke, pointing to each child.
We had no trouble naming our children, after all, everyone we cared about was honored in some way by the names of our children, so we didn't really need to come up with any names of our own.
"You named one of them after me?" Jimmy said, in awe. I smiled.
"She didn't say Autopsy Gremlin," I said, and everyone laughed. I looked at McGee. "And she didn't say Probie, either, so I guess you didn't get one either, McNameless."
"Funny," was his response. He takes my teasing well.
The chatter died down along with all of the ooh-ing and aww-ing, and eventually, everyone wandered out of the room, offering congratulations and well wishes.
Finally, I was left alone with my wife, and my beautiful new family. I was overwhelmed.
"I love you so, so much, Ziva DiNozzo," I said.
"Oh, I love you more, Tony," she responded.
Notes: This may not be quite as good as the first chapter, but I really wanted to write it. Keep in mind that I continued to build on all of the bad clichés from the first (or I tried to, anyway), so the writing is probably pretty shoddy. I know that you all know that it's all in the interest of humor. Right?
The clichés of the second chapter:
1. Asking Gibbs' permission to propose: Asking permission itself is a bit outdated, but really, why is Tony almost never asking Ziva's father? I know he's an asshole, but he has more authority to give Ziva away than Gibbs does.
2. "What took you so long?": Of course everyone knows but the pair in question. They've known all along. Sigh...
3. Falling asleep during a movie: If they're tired, why would they decide to watch a movie? And why do they suddenly go from this 'non-relationship' to leaning on each other, falling asleep in each others' arms?
4. Proposing in front of the team: This one is probably less prominent, but it is done, and Abby squealing in the background is definitely overused. And let's not forget the overly sappy entire office applause thing.
5. Keep it out of the office: Okay this is a given, in every single workplace in America! Trust me, they don't need to be told this if they wish to keep their jobs.
6. Misused English: This one is easy, because it's in pretty much every episode, but sometimes, it's just done so horribly wrong. And fic writers, take heed: once or twice in a fic is enough. She doesn't need to mess up every godforsaken sentence!
7. The team is my family: Yes, they are very much like a family, but if I have to read that Gibbs is father, McGee is brother, Ducky is grandpa, and Abby is sister, and "OH UM GEE I don't know how Tony/Ziva fits into that equation" one more time, I'm going to rip my hair out.
8. I like to be on top: Again, this is something that's been said one time on the show, and never referred to again. Protip: If I'm with a guy, for whatever reason, and I happen to mention casually that I like something, usually, unless he's a douchebag, I don't need to remind him. He'll remember.
9: Pregnancy: I know that both Tony and Ziva would be smart enough to use protection. Considering Tony has seen more skirts than Fashion Week in Paris and he doesn't have any kids running around, I think he knows better.
10: Multiple births: Twins really aren't that common, I assure you. Nor are triplets, yet somehow, every fic in which people have kids, there are some twins. Maybe not Tiva twins, but there's twins somewhere.
11: Totally uncreative names for the kids: I have two kids, and one of them was named after his father, and the other was named after no one. I am not named for anyone, my brothers are not named for anyone, my parents are not named for anyone. Not everyone needs to be named after someone else. Good god.
And that's it. I think I'm done with this piece. I only wanted to revisit it because I knew that I'd forgotten a few, and I actually kicked myself for it afterwards. So there it is. Hope you enjoyed.