Pointing out that I suck at updating stories most of the time. When I used to write for other fandoms, it'd take ages. But because you guys are so flipping amazing, I'm updating pretty often.
So basically, you guys are awesome, and your support of this story is phenomenal. Thank you.
Now, is anybody as ready to get into Ziva's head as I was?
A strong nudge to her ribs woke Ziva up at 0400 the morning after Tony had come over to talk to her. She turned slightly, shifting her weight and trying to get comfortable again. It had taken her ages to do so when she had finally calmed her nerves enough to lie down, and even once she was comfortable, it took her forever to actually fall asleep. She shifted again, and was rewarded with another quick nudge, this one a little lower. She winced slightly, deciding to give up and stop moving.
She closed her eyes, hearing Tony's words for the thousandth time. They wouldn't leave her alone no matter how hard she tried to shove them out of her mind.
"You can be a mom, and I know you want to be. So why are you doing this?"
"But what about me, Ziva? Don't I get any say in this?"
"Ziva, please."
She hated seeing him so hurt, tears in his eyes. He'd never been one to cry very often, and so seeing those tears had hurt her in a way that she couldn't describe, but she hadn't said anything that would let on what she was feeling. She had kept her face as blank as possible, turned away, and told him to leave, fighting tears of her own. He really was the best partner anyone could ask for, and breaking his heart was the hardest thing she had ever done.
She was doing the right thing, giving the baby up, despite all of that. Her little girl deserved to be given to a married couple who could take care of her without it ending up in an argument. Her little girl deserved parents with safer jobs, so she would never have to worry about them coming home. Her little girl deserved stability, with parents that could be home every single night to cook her dinner and tuck her in to bed after reading her a story.
Her little girl deserved nothing but the best.
She had thought, in the beginning, that maybe she and Tony could make it work. She had thought that maybe they could be parents to their little girl, even though they weren't together. Maybe it would be okay that they had let their emotions get the best of them, and everything would be fine. Then, they had started arguing and fighting all the time, and she thought that maybe she should at least consider her other option. And she knew that letting him think she was definitely going to keep the baby would be messy.
So she'd stopped answering his questions, stopped letting him know how things were going, stopped giving him any indication that she would keep the baby. She'd tried not to let her hand find that spot just above her belly button, where she'd found she liked resting it, when he was around. She tried not to gaze off and get too deep into thought, because he always seemed to know what she was thinking when she did that. She was trying to protect him, keep him from getting hurt worse in the end, if she decided that adoption was the best option.
She wasn't even sure when she'd really decided on one path. When he had gone with her to find out the gender, she had still been considering the option, but she was also still a little undecided. There had been a moment, right after the doctor told them it was a girl, that she'd lost her facade long enough for Tony to see it. She had saw the realization in his eyes, and she'd quickly pushed away the emotions that left her feeling so uncertain. Then, over the few weeks after that, she'd realized that the relationship between Tony and herself wasn't the kind of relationship a child should be born into. She had realized that she had been wrong, and it wouldn't work. It was too crazy, too complicated, too unstable.
Somehow, even with these thoughts running around in her head, Ziva fell back into an uneasy sleep, but when her alarm went off at 0600, she found she couldn't stand the thought of going to work and seeing Tony there, sitting across from her. So, she waited a half hour, wasting the time making herself something to eat, and called in to say she was taking her maternity leave. She knew it was, technically, a little early, but no problems arose, which she was grateful for.
An hour later, she was pulling out the information she had on the adoption agency, staring at the phone number with her phone sitting beside her. She reminded herself she was doing the right thing, no matter what Tony said. It still took her a decent span of time, however, to actually dial the number in front of her and hold the phone to her ear.
"ABC Adoption Service, Incorporated. This is Amanda. How can I help you?" a woman answered after two rings.
Ziva swallowed. "H-Hi. I'm calling to uh, see about... putting my child up for adoption."
The statement came out sounding like a question, and Ziva mentally kicked herself for sounding so strange. "Alright, can I get your name?"
"Uh, Ziva David."
"And can you give me your date of birth?"
The next thirty minutes was spent with Ziva answering a number of questions, like her birthday, marital status, how far along she was, and so on. She answered all of the questions very factually, keeping her tone level and professional. Somehow, treating the situation like that made it seem a bit easier. The woman, Amanda, seemed friendly enough, but her voice was a touch too peppy for Ziva's liking. Finally, after feeling as though she'd just told her entire life story, the woman asked a more difficult question.
"Now, are you aware of who the father is?" Amanda asked, her tone still bright.
"Uh... yes," Ziva said slowly, swallowing.
"And is he aware of the decision that you're making to put the baby up for adoption?" Ziva cringed at the pitch that Amanda now maintained, wondering if she would have gotten someone else if she'd called a different day or at a different time.
"Yes, he is." Ziva's nerves picked up slightly, and she felt her palms get a little sweaty.
"Alright, and is he willing to give up the rights he has as the birthfather?" Ziva couldn't help but think that her voice seemed entirely too chirpy now.
Ziva swallowed again, closing her eyes and rubbing a hand across her forehead. She hadn't even thought of that being a problem, and now here it was, staring her in the face, and she had absolutely no idea how to respond.
"Miss David?" Amanda's voice had dropped just enough to not be as annoying, and Ziva sighed, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment.
"How much of a, uh, problem... would it be if... if he is not too... happy with the idea?" she asked, running a hand through her hair nervously.
"Well, we can still proceed if you'd like, but... if he were to come forward at any time or if something else were to come up where he is concerned... there can be a lot of legal complications accompanying that." Amanda's voice was definitely lower now.
Ziva sighed, running a hand over her stomach, a lump forming in her throat. Did doing the best thing for her daughter really have to be that complicated? All she wanted was to give her little girl the best she could possibly have, but because her father didn't see things the same way, there was a problem.
"Miss David, would you like to talk more with him and get back to me at a later time?" Amanda asked, her voice back to its high pitched octave.
"Uh.., yes, I suppose. Thank you." She hung up, putting her head in her hands.
This meant she would have to talk to Tony, and try to get him to understand where she was coming from as opposed to yelling at him and just telling him it was the best decision. That would mean having to talk to him after what had happened, and she knew that wasn't going to be easy. She rubbed her eyes, feeling tired.
Her phone vibrated loudly against her wooden table, and she jumped, reaching out to pick it up. Tony had text her, and suddenly she felt like she had to throw up for the first time in weeks.
Hey, just wanted to see how you were doing. I know things were bad last night, but I just wanted to check in on you.
Tears stung her eyes suddenly, and she closed the message quickly, trying to blink them away. She couldn't understand how he was still trying to speak to her when she had hurt him. Of course, she hadn't meant to hurt him. She would never want to hurt him, but sometimes doing the right thing wasn't easy. If anyone should understand that, it was him.
She stared at the phone in her hands, her thoughts running wild. She knew, if she wasn't being a coward, she would just text him and tell him what she needed from him, and hope he would understand. Instead, she reopened the message and deleted it without giving the words a second glance. Sighing and already feeling exhausted, she got up from the table, leaving the adoption agency's information lying there where it was.
She walked into her bedroom, picking up the little onesie Abby had gotten her, letting her fingers run over the soft, pink fabric like she had when she'd first been given it. That was after she had started leaning more toward adoption, and it had been so hard to listen to Abby be so excited, knowing that she was going to wind up disappointing her, too.
The only sleeping pill she'd found that she could actually take was umison, and for the most part, taking half of the pill was enough to get her through a rougher night. That night, however, she took a whole pill in order to help her sleep, because she already knew she would need it. She knew there was absolutely no way she would get through the night with all of her sanity otherwise.
The next morning, a knock on her door woke her up, and she got out of bed, a small wave of butterflies in her stomach the baby's only response. She couldn't help but smile slightly at the feeling. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was nearly nine, and shrugged off the fact that she hadn't slept this late on a Saturday in ages.
Getting to the door, she opened it to see Tony standing there, his hands in his pockets and a look of determination etched on his face.
"Tony?" His name fell from her lips in the form of a question, and he made a face that she couldn't really decipher. She stood there, putting her hand on the doorframe, feeling awkward, waiting for him to speak.
"Look, I know that you're set on your decision, and so... I-I did some research earlier today because... it doesn't matter. Anyway, I was just combing through some stuff and saw that... uh, pregnant mothers who are looking into adoption can have problems if the... if the birthfather isn't... on board with the decision, if he doesn't want to sign away his rights as the biological father. So... if you're..." he paused, struggling. "If you're so set on giving our baby up, and I thought about it... and I know that... my daughter deserves two parents, and not just one, which is... that's why I'm not going to try to get her if you don't want to be part of it... I just- I want to be part of the decision. I want to meet the parents, talk to them, help make the choice of who we want to have her."
Ziva stared for a moment, her entire body in shock. She swallowed, trying to process what he had just told her. "You... you want to... to help pick the adoptive parents?"
He nodded quickly, looking uncomfortable and shoving his hands as deep into his pockets as they would go, and she felt her heart break, because she knew that this had to be difficult for him. She couldn't get the images from the other night out of her mind, when he'd cried and basically begged her to keep their child. There wasn't any way she could tell him no, anyway, but regardless, she nodded, too, her reply simple. "Okay."
He cleared his throat, closing his eyes briefly, and then he was staring into her own again, a new, sharper edge there. "I promise I won't try to sabotage anything in the process, but there is something you should know. Every single moment that I'm doing this with you, I'm going to be trying to get you to change your mind."
And Ziva felt her heart drop down into her stomach, because looking into his set, determined eyes, she was suddenly very afraid that he might be able to do just that.