Tony woke to a steady beeping; his hand automatically shot out and hammered on the snooze button. He rolled over, intending to get at least ten more minutes of sleep, but froze mid-turn sensing a presence.
Holy crap, he thought, who is in my bed? Never before had he forgotten going to sleep next to somebody. Except when he was twenty-one, but he had been really drunk then. This time, however, there was no mind splitting, puke my guts out type feeling that came with a hangover. In fact, other than feeling a little tired, he felt great.
But that didn't excuse the fact that there was a mystery woman in his bed. Okay, DiNozzo, think, he thought covering his face with his hands. What's her name? What's her…? He froze, cool metal ghosting across his forehead. His eyes snapped open, zeroing in on the silver band around his left, ring finger.
"Oh no," he whispered. "No, no, no, no, no." Now, he really had to figure out who was next to him. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes landing on a dark haired woman lying with her back to him.
"Uh, hey," he said softly patting the woman's head.
She stirred and said, "Good morning, my little hairy butt."
Tony's heart nearly stopped. Only one person had ever called him that, and that was when they were undercover as two, married assassins.
"Ziva?" he said tentatively. Before Ziva could respond, the door flew open and a pink blur landed on his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs.
"Are you awake, Daddy?" Wait, Daddy? "You promised Panjacks for b'eakfast."
"I am sorry. It is my fault. I meant to say Pancakes or flapjacks," Ziva said sitting up, taking the little girl off Tony and pulling her into lap.
"What?" Tony sat up, his eyes resting on Ziva and the little girl. She looked an awful lot like Ziva except her eyes. They were eyes Tony saw in the mirror every morning.
"Are you okay, Tony?" Ziva questioned giving him a worried look.
Tony's mouth moved but words would not escape his lips, he slowly backed away from Ziva and the girl. Ziva flashed another worried look before putting the little girl on the floor. "Come on, Katie. I will make you your pancakes."
"Short for Caitlin." Ziva's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you are okay, fuzzy bear?"
"Yeah, I…I'm fine, sweetie pie?"
"Okay." Ziva slowly got out of bed, stretching her arms over her head. She turned, resting her hand on Katie's back. "Let us go. Give Daddy a minute to wake up."
"But he is awake," Katie pointed out moving away from her mother, leaving Ziva's stomach in plain view. Only it wasn't as flat as Tony had remembered it…
"Holy crap," he exclaimed as he fell out of bed, slamming his elbow into the nightstand as he hit the floor.
"Ah, Daddy said a bad word," Katie whispered.
"Tony, are you okay?" Ziva questioned moving around the bed to stand over him. Dinozzo scrambled to his feet, backing away from her. "You…and I…and this…" he made a circular motion over his stomach.
"Mommy, is Daddy okay?"
"I am not sure, Caitlin. Why not go get dressed, and I will meet you in the kitchen."
"Okay." Katie flashed one final, worried look toward Tony before walking out of the room.
"What has gotten into you," Ziva hissed the moment Katie was out of earshot.
"Me? What has gotten into you?" he gestured with both hands at her stomach. "I mean yesterday you threatened to kill me. And today we're…" he lowered his voice, "married."
"It was the hormones talking," Ziva replied sheepishly.
"No, no, no. Yesterday you were not this." he made the circular motion again. "You were this," he said flattening his hands against his stomach. "And I wasn't," he grabbed of his ring finger, "this. And we're," he gestured to both of them, "are not this. We are not even close to this."
"What is your point?"
"This is crazy. Beyond crazy, insane. On a scale of one and McGee actually having a woman in his bed, this is beyond that."
"Well since Jeanne and he moved in together, I am assuming he has a woman in his bed every night."
"Jeanne?" it couldn't be the Jeanne Tony was thinking of. It just couldn't be.
"Benoit," Ziva said as if Tony should know. "You know the undercover mission Jenny sent him on. To spy on her father."
"I got sent on that mission."
Ziva gave him an incredulous look then said, "Tony we were just married. We had a daughter. You were not going on a mission like that."
"Why do you keep saying that? Are you okay?"
"Stop asking me if I'm okay. I am fine. I just need to use the bathroom."
"Tony we are having a discussion."
"Just…just five minutes." he snatched his phone off the end table.
"Fine, I will be in the kitchen." and Ziva left the room, closing the door with more force than necessary.
Tony headed into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it. He rested his head against the wood mumbling, "It's a dream. It's just a very vivid, very 3D, very realistic dream. I'm like Nicolas Cage except a lot better looking and with better hair. And a better looking wife…" he trailed off, shaking head, "No not my wife. Friend, co-worker, my partner on some cases.
"This is breaking rule number twelve. Wait, not even rule twelve. It's an unspoken rule against marrying your co-workers. Gibbs is going to kill me." Speaking of Gibbs, he should probably call him. "Gibbs? I can't call Gibbs. That's like signing my death warrant." he closed his eyes, thinking. McGee, I'll call McGee.
He scrolled through his contacts, hitting send on McGee's name. It rang once, twice, and a familiar, groggy female voice answered. "Hello?"
Tony's heart constricted, his breath died in his throat. He hadn't seen her in over a year, could still remember her last words to him 'I hate you.' "Jeanne?"
"Who is this?"
"Uh, Tony DiNozzo."
"Oh, you work with Tim," she said as realization dawned on her.
"Yeah," Tony replied through numb lips. She didn't know him, not like he knew her. "Can I, uh, can I talk to him?"
"He's in the shower right now."
"Can you get him?"
"He just stepped in…"
"It's really important," he said urgently, no doubt taking her by surprise.
"Okay," she said slowly. "Just let me get him."
Tony began pacing back and forth across the unfamiliar bathroom floor, his eyes taking in one alien item after another. His counter, usually consisting of a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, razor, shaving cream, aftershave, and the occasional bar soap had been replaced by God knew what. The only thing DiNozzo was aware of was that it had a very strong smell, it wasn't manly, but reminded him strongly of Ziva.
Almost unconsciously, he stopped in front of the sink and started moving stuff around. He had just lined all the bottles up from big to small when an annoyed McGee said, "What do you want, DiNozzo?"
"McGee listen, I am freaking out," Tony hissed almost dropping a bottle of, what looked like, perfume. He set it down slowly, trekking away from the sink.
"What's wrong?" McGee asked suddenly, a little nervous.
"I woke up next to Ziva…"
"'And'?" I woke up next to Ziva. You know Mossad, trained killer, unsafe with a paperclip, Dad's a psychopath… That Ziva."
"I know who she is. Except, she's not Mossad anymore."
"Never mind. Why are you calling me?"
"I just told you. I woke up next to Ziva!" Tony exclaimed beginning to pace again. "And we've apparently got a kid, and she's pregnant. And there's a ring, on my finger…"
"And you're just figuring this all out now? You've been married for almost three years, you're daughter is six months shy of her fourth birthday, and the last I checked, Ziva was five and half months pregnant."
"Married…and four…and…" Tony took a deep, calming breath and said, "When did this happen?"
"Look Tony whatever you drank last night, however you got it passed Ziva, I don't care. I have to shower and get ready for work. You know, work. Gibbs, head slaps, the whole nine yards. So, I suggest you pull yourself together before then. Because I don't want to deal with this all day."
"Wait, McGee don't hang up…" he hung up. "Damn it…"
Tony threw his phone onto the counter, looking at himself in the mirror. Besides the unusual amount of scruff he wasn't any different, except he was married. He was married and had a kid. He was married, had a kid, and had another one on the way. So, yeah, some things were different from yesterday. Majorly different. And in order to figure out why, Tony would just have to dig a little…or a lot...deeper.
A steady beeping sounded from the front room. Tony's head turned toward the noise, realizing it was his alarm clock going off again. Except with this alarm, there was something oddly unsettling about the way it beeped; he just couldn't put his finger on it. Beep, beep, beep…
Beep, beep, beep… Ziva stood in the doorway of the room, leaning against the doorframe, mindful of her injured arm. She never liked it when he was this still; he was never this still to begin with. He was a ball of energy, a little kid inside. Too stubborn to admit he had to grow up.
She moved further into the room, stopping short of his bed. He was hooked up to more machines then she could count, each one doing its damndest to keep him alive. If it wasn't for that delivery van, running through that red light, they wouldn't be here right now. If he'd just let her drive, they wouldn't be here right now.
She lowered herself into the chair by his bed, resting her uninjured arm on her knee. She took a deep breath, her eyes burning, and whispered, "We need you to be all right… I need you to be all right." she sighed deeply, a single tear falling down her face. "Wake up, Tony…"
Okay, this idea was bugging me for a while and I made the mistake of sharing it with Benny. Who got very excited for some reason. So, that's where this was born.
If you are confused we did not intend for that to happen. If you need an explanation PM me and I will give you one. :)
For those of you who do get it, and would like us to continue, please let us know.
So, drop a comment if you can, we do not own these characters, or Nicolas Cage. And we've gotta go,