A/N: So ... this little one-shot came to me over last night and this morning and demanded to be written down. It is just a short (really short! *passes around the cyber smelling salts for all of you who have fainted* :D) warm, fuzzy piece that will hopefully leave you smiling, as it did me. Don't over-think it (yes, that directive is for me, too!); just enjoy it for what it is: a little snapshot of the Zibbs world in which I love to play. This is a rarity for me, but this one is of the write-and-post variety without the obsessive editing to which I am prone. Those of you who know me well understand that leaves me quaking in my shoes, but ... I'm trying to stand by that "no over-thinking" deal. :p
This comes with a shout-out to abstractartist, Cherokee Jedi and iyimgrace ... just because. *hugs*
For those of you reading "Waves of Grace," I'm working on the next update (and a couple other things). I am also still responding to reviews over the last couple of chapters of Grace; I promise I will get to them. Thanks for your patience and I really do appreciate them.
Read, enjoy, and perhaps you'll even review. =)
"So, what do you think your life would be like right now if we had never met?"
Gibbs slowly looked away from the evening news that had just gone to commercial and dipped his chin down toward his wife's head where it was resting on his chest.
Where had that question come from?
"Huh?"
Ziva tilted her head back and looked at Gibbs.
"What do you think your life would be like if we had never met?" she repeated.
"What made you think of that?" he asked, stalling for time – and praying for inspiration.
She just shrugged and cut her gaze toward her hand that was worrying his t-shirt between her fingers.
"Wouldn't have to answer questions like this, for starters," he joked with just a hint of desperation.
Well, kinda joked, as he fought the urge to squirm.
Ziva slapped at his chest playfully and then allowed an expectant silence to hang between them, wordlessly encouraging him to uncharacteristically fill it.
Amazingly enough, he did.
"Be eating a lot more take-out," he eventually observed with a teasing smirk playing about his lips. "And more cereal for dinner."
She snorted.
Trust the man to start with food. He could be such a … guy.
"And wouldn't have someone nagging me to eat more vegetables," he added.
"I do not do that," she protested. Then she paused. "Do I?"
He just looked at her.
Okay, maybe she did.
But it was for his own good.
"Bedroom walls would still be white," he pointed out, smiling inside as he remembered her cajoling him into painting their room a warmer, more inviting color. "And mighta broken the world's record for divorces."
Her lips twitched even as she rolled her eyes.
"Probably watch more baseball," he admitted, casting about in his brain for more to say. "And have a helluva golf game."
"You have never played golf in your life," she practically snorted. She brought herself up short. Maybe this was something she just never knew about him. "Have you?"
His only answer was a banked twinkle in his eye.
No, he hadn't.
But where was the fun in admitting that?
She shook her head at him.
"Never mind," she grumbled, moving to push herself up from the couch.
He caught her hand and kept her close.
She was so strong most of the time that even he could forget about the soft in her that sometimes needed tending. That wasn't his strong suit – any more than admitting to it was hers.
He cupped her jaw in one hand and bent his head to nuzzle the other side of her neck beneath her ear, her long dark hair tickling the side of his face.
And he dug a little deeper.
"'course," he murmured, "also wouldn't know what orchids smell like on your skin."
He breathed her in as her heart started to melt, that lotion of hers stirring his senses as it always did.
"Or how beautiful you look when you do that yoga stuff in the morning with the sun on your face …"
"Even now?" she asked dubiously.
"'specially now," he reassured her softly, tucking her hair behind her ear with a tenderness that had her leaning into his touch.
"Or how just thinking about you makes a lotta things … better."
She sank into him as he skimmed a kiss across her cheek.
God, she adored him.
"Wouldn't have a house that's back to feelin' like a home …"
Jethro raised his head and looked into her big brown eyes with a gentle smile that made her teary. He laid his hand over hers where it rested on her very swollen belly and laced his fingers through hers.
"And wouldn't know what it feels like to be a dad again."
At those words, the moisture in her eyes spilled over to bead down one cheek like a tiny strand of diamonds.
Stupid hormones.
She started to wipe her cheek, but he beat her to it with his lips.
He held her to him, his forehead resting on hers.
"I'd be lookin' for you," he promised with certainty, "even if I didn't know it."
A sound that fell somewhere between a joyful noise and choked-back tears left her throat. She crawled into his lap, resting sideways against him. Their baby wouldn't let her get close to him if she attempted to straddle his lap these days.
And she wouldn't have traded that for the world.
Ziva buried her face against his throat, wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and held onto him for dear life.
"I would be so alone ... and I would be looking for you, too," she whispered emotionally against his skin.
He cradled her to him, running one hand soothingly over her back, her side, her tummy ... burying the other in her luxurious hair. His heart smiled, which she'd have seen reflected in his brilliant blue eyes if she'd been looking.
Lucky for him, he wasn't still searching.
He'd found her.
And he wasn't about to let her go ... even if she did come with a side of vegetables.
~ The End ~
