A/N: This drabble - don't faint now, it is exactly 100 words ;) - is a combination Christmas gift to all my readers who celebrate this holiday and reassurance that I am still alive and still writing. :) And, honestly, it was a challenge to myself to see if I could do it LOL. I have several things in process (including, but not limited to, the next chapter of "Waves of Grace"), but family time of both the sad and fulfilling varieties has impacted my writing time lately. Something new will be posted soon, though, I promise. =)
In fact, there will be several new Zibbs stories available in the not-too-distant future ... stay tuned. ;)
This could fit in "Grace" slightly ahead of where we are in that story or it could stand on its own. Read it whichever way you like. There are a lot of layers in these 100 words to me; I hope I have communicated all of those to you.
THANKS to all of you who read and re-read my stories. The writing wouldn't be nearly so fun without you along for my journey.
Gibbs walked into their bedroom.
"Ziva, have you –"
He stopped when he saw her standing sideways at the mirror holding her top up, examining the small but definite curve to her belly.
She dropped her shirt, embarrassed he'd caught her.
He smirked and walked over, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He rested his hands on her bump, his chin on her shoulder.
"Whatcha doin'?"
A pause preceded her shy answer.
"Looking at my bump."
"That's my bump," he growled playfully, pressing his lips to her neck.
"Our bump," she smiled affectionately.
"Yeah," he sighed happily. Ours.
Perfect.