AN: So…religion is coming later. In the meantime, enjoy pregnant Ziva, I'm having fun experimenting with Mama Z.
Ziva David was busying herself with the packing of an overnight bag. She was in the process of folding a small yellow onesie she would take to the hospital when Tony interrupted her. "Z, we need to take a picture."
"Of what, Tony, my large—butt," she had stopped swearing since she had become pregnant as if her vulgarity would somehow affect the baby.
"Sweet cheeks you're not fat—"
"I just can't see my feet," she teased him lightly.
"As I was saying, you're not fat you're pregnant. Pregnant people gain weight, it's all natural." He smiled at her good naturedly and moved to kiss her on the forehead, but she stopped him.
"I do not want any photographic evidence that I ever looked like this," she fixed him with a mild glare and gestured vaguely to her bloated form.
"Now, now, we can't have that your beauty needs to be preserved for future generations," she looked up and stuck her tongue out at him as he snapped a quick picture and ran.
The flash seemed to have stunned her momentarily, but she quickly recovered. "Tony!" She ran as fast as she could, which only amounted to a slow, if vigorous, waddle. She did not care if he was the father of her child. He would have—heck—to pay for taking that picture.
AN: Simple and lighthearted. I hope you liked it. As always if you have the time, drop me a line. :)
