"This cereal has twigs in it."
Jethro Gibbs stood at the bottom of the steps inside his house staring down at the box in his hand with a look on his face that could only be described as befuddled. When he received no response from his wife, he called up the stairs again.
"Ziva? Why are there twigs in the cereal?"
Just then, the lovely subject of his interrogation rounded the corner above him and started walking down the steps, an attractive sparkle in her brown eyes. She trailed her right hand along the railing and had her left tucked behind her back.
"It does not have twigs," she answered matter-of-factly. "It has fiber."
"It has twigs – says so right here." Gibbs held up the box in his hand and pointed to the offending word.
Ziva stopped on a step that put her right in front of him at eye level.
"It says fiber just in front of that," she observed, biting back a grin. "And look – it has honey in it."
She tapped a fingernail against the sweet word a couple lines down from the word "twigs."
"Yeah, after the twigs and the – soy?" Her husband did a double-take and then looked at her incredulously. "What the hell are beans doing in cereal?"
Ziva lost her battle with holding back a chuckle at that point.
"It says soy protein, Jethro," she pointed out. "It is simply a healthy source of protein; there are no actual beans in there."
"If I wanted healthy for breakfast, I'd eat a salad," he groused. He turned the box and squinted to peer suspiciously at the fine print in the list of ingredients. "Probably got that in here, too."
At that, Ziva burst out laughing.
"Well, I could make you a salad, if you prefer," she offered, a teasing light in her eyes.
"I'd prefer my usual cereal," he grumped. "Where are those circle thingys I like? The ones that look like O's?"
"Probably still at the store where some five-year-old is trying to convince his mother that your favorite cereal is a completely nutritious breakfast," she returned, somehow managing to keep a straight face.
"It's not that bad," he said defensively. "Not like there's marshmallows in it or anything."
"True," she agreed with a twinkle in her eye. Then a mysterious light hinting at secrets and surprises replaced it. "But I have been thinking that we should make sure we are eating as healthy as we can."
"By 'we' you mean 'me'," he guessed wryly.
She smiled and brought her right hand up to brush through his hair before cupping his jaw.
"Actually, I did mean we," she clarified softly, running her thumb over his lower lip.
"Lived this long without eating twigs," he pointed out, raising one hand to rest it on her right hip. Giving it a squeeze, he added, "Got at least a few more years in me."
Her eyes got that look again, that one that said she knew something that he didn't. Yet.
"You have far more than a few years left, if I have anything to say about it," she declared firmly in a husky voice. "We need you around for a very, very long time."
"You'll probably be stuck with me –" He suddenly stopped as his breath caught in his throat. He managed one word. "We?"
With a feminine smile as old as time, she nodded.
"The team 'we'?" he asked carefully, hoping - okay, begging the heavens - that she'd say no.
She slowly shook her head with that smile still curving her lips.
"The new cereal is not the only thing I bought at the store," she shared quietly with a combination of strength and vulnerability in her eyes that mesmerized him.
Ziva slowly brought her left hand out from behind her back and opened it to reveal a white pregnancy test stick with a plus sign in the result window. It was a little faint, but it was definitely there.
The cereal box dropped unceremoniously from Jethro's hand. With his fingers trembling slightly, he reached out and gently touched the stick before cradling his wife's left hand in his right.
His eyes found hers, joy and wonder competing with surprise in those blue eyes into which she'd never tire of staring, the blue eyes that she prayed would be staring up at her from their child's face in the not-too-distant future.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered.
"I believe I just did," she answered warmly, her eyes twinkling.
He huffed out a laugh, then rested his forehead against hers. She'd had a few more moments than he'd had to take this in and he was trying to catch up.
"Why didn't you tell me you thought you might be?" he husked. "That you were going to take the test?"
"Because I was certain it was too soon and I felt ridiculous for not being able to wait," she admitted self-deprecatingly, her tone emphasizing her words. "And it is early; that is why the plus sign is not very dark."
She pulled back far enough to smile into his eyes.
"But there is no such thing as being a little bit pregnant, so the instructions say that even a faint result means yes," she finished, more than a little dazed wonder creeping into her tone.
"You're pregnant," he breathed, his eyes dropping to watch his hand slide from where it had begun clutching her hip like a lifeline to rest against her still-flat tummy.
"I prefer to think of it as we are pregnant," she drawled, dropping a kiss to his mouth, her hand still cupping his jaw, "but yes."
The elation that sparkled in her eyes was at odds with her seemingly-casual tone. The grin that stole over his face would live in her heart forever.
With a happy shout, he wrapped her in both arms and stepped back, pulling her off the stairs to swing her around in circles. She curled her arms around his neck and just held on. Their combined joyful laughter rang through the house. Those walls had not absorbed such a beautiful sound in decades.
When they stopped, he tilted his head back far enough to gaze into her gorgeous brown eyes, eyes that he hoped would be looking out at him several months down the road from a miniature version of Ziva.
"I love you," he husked, holding her as though he'd never let go. Then he buried his face in her throat and added, "Both of you."
She laid her cheek against his head and squeezed him more tightly, the pregnancy test still clutched in her hand.
"We love you back," she whispered. "So much."
He slowly slid her down his body until her feet touched the floor. Bringing one hand up to gently cup her cheek, he speared his fingers into her glorious hair and raised her face to his. The kiss they shared spoke more than mere words between them ever could.
At long last they pulled apart to catch their breath.
He looked down at her with his characteristic half-smile. "So, I guess twigs are good for the baby."
"Well, I would say the protein is more important for the baby at this point, but from what I have read, the twigs are important for the baby's mommy and her digestive tract, especially as things go along." Ziva rolled her eyes as a grin played around Jethro's lips. Fortunately, his healthy sense of self-preservation kicked in and prevented him from actually chuckling out loud.
Snuggling in more closely to her husband, Ziva continued her explanation. "And, I thought since I will be doing most of the work in this – the getting fat, the swollen ankles, the hormones – the least you could do is eat like us, at least most of the time."
"Don't suppose the baby wants sugar on the twigs?" Gibbs wished out loud.
Ziva snorted. "The baby does not get a vote on that."
Her tone implied that he didn't get one either.
Jethro let out a mock sigh of resignation. Oh, well. It had been worth a shot.
"You can put fruit on it," Ziva suggested with a twinkle in her eyes.
His outlook brightened at that which was plain to read on his face. "Do we have strawberries?"
She nodded, her lips twitching. "And blueberries, too."
He just looked at her. He opened his mouth, then closed it without saying a word. He hated blueberries – and she knew it. This time his sigh was for real.
"Guess we're gonna be eating blueberries, too, huh?" he asked, resigned to his fate.
She nodded, hiding her grin. God, she loved this man.
"However, with the right persuasion I might be convinced to reduce your sentence with regard to the number of blueberries you actually have to eat." She rubbed against him suggestively, catching his earlobe gently in her teeth before trailing the tip of her tongue down his neck.
He had to swallow hard and clear his throat before he managed to speak.
"What kind of persuasion?" he asked, resting his hands on her hips to nestle her even more closely against his.
"You are a smart man; I am quite certain you will figure it out," she replied confidently, nipping at his skin.
The noise he made in the back of his throat was very satisfying. She decided he deserved more good news, as well.
"And just think," Ziva continued, "I will undoubtedly have cravings for things like ice cream … brownies … perhaps even the occasional danish or jelly doughnut." His eyes lit up at that and she silently laughed up at him affectionately with just a look. "And you can eat those with us, too."
"Don't think I'm supposed to gain weight with you, Ziver," he responded dryly, reining in his anticipation at the thought of eating those goodies with her – at least very often.
"Why should I have to do it alone?" she smirked up at him.
His whole face gentled and all the love he felt for her – which had somehow managed to double in the space of the last five minutes, which he wouldn't have thought possible – blazed in his eyes.
"You don't have to do anything alone," he promised her softly. "Not anymore. Never again."
Her heart melted and it was reflected in her eyes.
"No, I do not," she husked, "because I have you."
"Damn right," he agreed, bending his head to capture her lips in a kiss that went on and on, growing hotter and hotter.
Suddenly, Ziva's stomach growled very loudly, making them both chuckle even as their mouths stayed connected.
Gibbs pulled back and looked down at her with amused tenderness.
"Was about to suggest we go back to bed for a while," he revealed, "but sounds like we need to hit the kitchen first."
"Apparently," she agreed wryly. Then her look took on that provocative quality that never failed to kick up his pulse. "But there is no reason we cannot go back to bed after breakfast. It is Saturday, after all."
Gibbs grinned and dropped a brief, but none-the-less satisfying kiss to her lips. "Always have liked the way you think."
Bending, he rescued the cereal box that had started this whole conversation from the floor. Arms wrapped around each other's waists, they started toward the kitchen, their happiness plain to read on both their faces.
"You do know that one day our five-year-old and I are gonna come home from the store with those circle thingys I like, right?" he asked. Of course, if his Ziver still wanted the twig cereal, he'd be buying that, too.
Ziva pictured Jethro and a mini-sized replica of him standing in the cereal aisle at the grocery store, plotting how they could convince her to let them eat the "circle thingys" – or where to hide them so they could try sneaking them when she wasn't around. Like they wouldn't be busted by her ninja skills …
She leaned her head against his shoulder, more content than she'd once believed she'd ever be … or even deserved to be.
"I know," she confirmed with a tender smile and an extra squeeze around his waist - and she couldn't wait.
"Now," he said, running his hand suggestively over her very attractive backside, "about those blueberries …"
~The End~