A/N:While I agree this has certainly been the longest human pregnancy on record ;), there is more to come before the actual birth. Hang in there, though; I promise he is coming ... after a few more chapters. This next section covers about a day and a half. Since it hit over 14,000 words - ! - it will be split into 4 - 6 chapters. I didn't want to start posting it until all of it was drafted, which I finished yesterday. Obsessive editing and RL crises aside, hopefully the updates won't be too far apart.

The date for this in my mind is February 8, 2013 and Ziva is about 30 weeks along.

I hope you enjoy this and the rest that is to come, and that you'll let me know if you do. =)

Ziva and Abby walked from her lab into the bullpen, Abby talking excitedly (really, did she talk any other way?) about the upcoming baby shower she was throwing for Gibbs and Ziva, without giving away all the details.

Ziva listened, smiling. Abby was especially animated about this topic, which warmed the mother-to-be's heart.

When Abby related that the colors were black, white and red – Because those are totally best for the Zibblet's eyes at first – Ziva couldn't help but tease her affectionately.

"You do realize that unless something very unexpected happens, the baby will not be present for his shower, yes?"

"I know," Abby agreed with a perky smile.

"Are you certain you did not choose those colors because they are your favorites?"

"Nope," Abby shook her head, her ponytails swinging adorably. "That's just an added bonus."

Her cheeky grin made Ziva chuckle.

Their favorite scientist then went right on with her adorable rambling without so much as a hitch in her stride.

As they neared the agents' desks, however, Ziva stopped dead in her tracks.

At first, Abby kept walking, not realizing she'd left Ziva a few steps behind.

"Zi?" she asked, when she realized her friend was no longer right beside her. She turned back to see Ziva frozen in her spot, staring in the direction of her husband and his desk.

Leaning seductively against Jethro's desk was a redhead Ziva had never seen before. The woman actually had one hip perched on the edge of his desk and was toying with the top-most fastened button on her blouse while clearly trying to catch the team leader's attention. She was striking and roughly close to Jethro's age. She seemed to be asking questions and Gibbs was responding with minimum-words-required answers, though his eyes were trained on his computer screen.

At the sound of Abby's "Zi?," he turned his head left toward the women, smiling as soon as he saw Ziva. A case they'd caught yesterday that hadn't started wrapping up until this morning had kept him at work overnight and he'd missed her.

In fact, the case was one reason why Ziva had stopped by the lab first so she could get an idea of where they were with things. She wanted to have lunch with Jethro, but wouldn't interrupt if it wasn't a good time for that.

Gibbs quickly noticed that his wife was throwing daggers with her eyes at the woman near his desk. Given Ziva's penchant for actual weapons, he stepped into her line of sight, between the two women.

"Hey," he said softly, moving toward her.

She finally focused her eyes on him as he got closer, raising an eyebrow that clearly demanded Who is that?

Gibbs kissed her cheek and reached for her hand, drawing soothing circles on the back with his thumb. Ziva started softening, just being near him.

"Nice surprise. What brings you here?" He knew she was working at the FBI this week and she'd sent him a good morning text earlier that also said she was going into work even though it was a Friday, as she wanted to complete her current assignment.

What she hadn't told him was that she was also trying to distract her head from replaying the dream she'd had last night.

Ziva relaxed a little and laid the hand he wasn't holding against her husband's chest.

"Abby said your case is wrapping up and so I was wondering if you were free for lunch. My translation project is finished and I am taking the afternoon off."

Concern crossed his face.

"Everything okay?" he asked quietly with a slight frown between his eyes, tracing over her lovely features in hopes of seeing for himself.

"Everything is fine," she smiled.

Gibbs continued to look into her eyes until she admitted, "Perhaps I am a little tired, but that is all."

She rubbed her hand against his heart reassuringly.

He kept looking her over until he was satisfied she was telling the truth – at least mostly - then he relaxed.

"Sure, I can grab lunch. Give me a sec."

Jethro went back to his desk, ignoring the redhead who was still standing there and had been watching him like a hawk as he'd talked to his wife.

Tony, McGee, Abby and Trent had noticed Ziva's initial reaction to the woman and were unable to stop watching the scene unfolding in front of them, sort of like not being able to pass the scene of an accident without gawking.

"You're leaving?" the woman asked Gibbs, disbelief coloring her tone.

"Yeah," he answered without looking at her, turning off his computer and gathering his keys, badge, gun and coat despite the fact that it wasn't quite noon yet.

"But I still have questions," she protested.

"Ask DiNozzo," he responded, shutting his drawer.

Tony waved his fingers at her, flashing that flamboyant grin of his.

"But –" she continued.

Ziva decided it was time to intervene and came to stand by Jethro at his desk.

"I do not believe we have met," she stated. "I am Ziva Gibbs."

Even though she generally used Ziva David Gibbs while at work, she wasn't technically working. Besides, she had an instinctive need to mark her territory.

Get this: He is mine.

She held out a hand which was taken in a handshake limp enough to be insulting. Her eyes narrowed as she returned her hand to her side. Ziva's faint, superficial smile faded and the team was just glad she didn't reach for her knife.

Yet.

"I wasn't aware Agent Gibbs had a daughter," the other woman said cattily.

While comments about their age difference rolled right off Ziva's back, she knew those still sometimes bothered her husband. As her protective hackles rose, she clung to the high road with her fingernails.

"I am Jethro's wife," Ziva returned with a calm she did not feel. "And you are?"

The redhead ignored the question.

"Oh, yes, I heard something about that," she murmured archly. "So you're the latest Mrs. Gibbs. What is it – fifth or sixth?"

The quiet from the others was deafening as Ziva narrowed her eyes at the woman, considering how to respond.

"Last," Ziva answered succinctly after a pregnant moment, drawing a grin from Gibbs and the rest of the team.

Ziva turned to Jethro, plainly dismissing the other woman. "You are ready?"

"Ready," he assured her and they started to move toward the elevator.

Apparently, the redhead was suicidal in addition to being brazen and annoying, because she couldn't keep one more comment to herself.

The couple hadn't gone more than three steps when the other woman stepped in front of Jethro and laid a hand on his forearm. Ziva's eyebrows shot nearly to her hairline at the woman's audacity.

"When you tire of this May - December thing, come find me."

All right. That was it.

Beware of pregnant ninjas who'd had enough.

She stepped in between Jethro and the redhead, causing the other woman to break contact with his arm. Gibbs captured his wife's right hand in his with an affectionate squeeze before she could twist that offending feminine hand in a maneuver he'd witnessed before.

"I am not concerned about May and December," Ziva began with a deadly calm before her eyes narrowed again in that way of hers with the daggers clearly back, "but I am wondering how you feel about February funerals."

The woman blanched and took an involuntary step back as the team struggled to control their urge to hoot with satisfaction.

Point to Ziva.

Urging his wife gently forward with a hand on the small of her back, Gibbs and Ziva continued on to the elevator.

Suddenly, Ziva stopped and turned back to the others. Finding Tony's eyes, she made a suggestion with a wicked yet completely serious gleam in her eye.

"Perhaps you should fill her in on my previous occupation."

DiNozzo's face brightened with gleeful anticipation.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

After the elevator doors closed behind them, Ziva reached up and head-slapped her husband.

He pushed the stop button and turned to look at her.

"What was that for?"

"For encouraging that – that – woman in her efforts to flirt with you. Who is she?"

"Some efficiency expert … Margaret? Marjorie?" He shrugged. "Starts with an M. I think. Supposed to answer her questions so she can write up some kind of consult report."

He paused so she could process that part before addressing the rest.

"And I wasn't encouraging her," he pointed out. "Was barely looking at her. Had work to do."

He was right, but …

"Well, for not discouraging her then," Ziva grumbled, beginning to feel ridiculous about her reaction.

Her over-reaction.

Still, it was hard to completely shake it off.

Ziva had had remarkably few moody days thus far during her pregnancy. In fact, most of the time there was a serenity, a contentment about her that was impossible to miss. Ziva loved being pregnant and it showed.

But even serene, contented expectant mothers had their moments, especially in the last trimester when some discomfort began to set in and the fatigue revisited … and it was hard not to feel, well, fat.

And getting fatter every day.

Which would continue to be the theme for the next ten weeks or so.

Though part of her rejoiced as the scale kept going gradually up exactly as it should, it was difficult to feel attractive when her body felt awkward at times and not like herself anymore, even if the reason for that ranked right up there with her husband in being the very, very best things that had ever happened to her.

Her head dipped, eyes on the floor, until Gibbs lifted her face with a gentle finger under her chin.

"Talk to me, Ziver."

She shrugged and tried to avoid his gaze, but he wouldn't let her. He snagged her eyes with his and waited, wordlessly encouraging her to open up. Finally, the clear devotion and concern in his gaze cracked her resistance.

Ziva's shoulders slumped slightly as she gave in and answered him.

"You must admit she is beautiful – and she is a redhead," Ziva started, pointing a finger in the air for emphasis.

Gibbs remained silent, knowing there was more to this.

With a nearly silent sigh, she buried her face in his chest.

"And her stomach does not enter a room well before the rest of her."

Ah. There it was.

Jethro wrapped her in his arms for a moment, instinctively shifting his middle slightly to her side so their bodies could be tucked as tightly together as possible. She slid her arms around his chest under his sport jacket, leaning against him. He rested his cheek on her hair, willing her to feel all she was to him through his touch. After a long moment, he cupped her face in his hands, tilting her up toward him.

Ziva wouldn't look him in the eye.

She was losing steam and feeling tired - and more than a little stupid.

"Look at me, Ziva," he commanded softly.

Her gaze finally met his and he was surprised to see a sheen of moisture glistening in her beautiful brown eyes. He gave her a smile that was so gentle, those tears nearly overflowed their banks.

"First of all, you are always the most beautiful woman in the world to me, even when you're tired because you didn't get enough sleep last night."

Ziva raised a hand and squeezed his wrist in gratitude, both for the words and the fact that he'd sensed she hadn't slept well the night before even though he hadn't been beside her.

It hadn't been the first night she'd had trouble finding a comfortable position – and it wouldn't be the last – but it had been the first one where he hadn't been next to her to massage her back and rub her tummy and talk with her softly until he'd coaxed both his wife and his son into a restful slumber.

And it had been the first time she'd woken in the middle of the night, her heart pounding from one of those vivid, strange pregnancy dreams she'd read about in her book … a combination of the odd and the unsettling, of the impossible and the remembered.

She shook off the images that revisited once more, her attention on him as he spoke again.

"Second, only have eyes for a certain brunette these days."

Ziva smiled tremulously, a tear trickling down her cheek which he caught with a calloused thumb.

"And last, but certainly not least," he said with a twinkle in his eye that was as teasing as it was loving, laying a hand on her swelling middle.

Ziva rolled her eyes as a sound that combined a snort and a self-derisive chuckle escaped her.

"This is a miracle to me. And I love watching you get bigger because it means our baby is getting bigger, too, and we're that much closer to holding him – and I can't wait for that."

And, once again, he'd managed to say exactly what she needed to hear.

Ziva blinked back the rest of her tears.

"Most of the time, I think it is amazing that my body can do this and that it is doing it remarkably well," she shared softly, laying her cheek against his chest and squeezing him in appreciation. "It is just sometimes I feel …"

She shrugged, not quite sure of the words to use. She didn't want to sound disappointed or in any way negative about the changes in her body; she mostly didn't feel that way and she didn't want the baby to sense it at all.

Besides, the emotional rollercoaster she was on today was more complicated than that.

After a couple of heartbeats, she simply husked, "I need him to be safe and I do not want him to come before he is ready, but I want to hold him, too."

Ziva relaxed completely against Gibbs, absorbing him into her very being.

"I love you," she sighed.

"Love you back," he assured her, the ghost of his characteristic smile playing about his lips as he dropped a kiss to her hair.

"Even when I am being an idiot?" she asked contritely.

"Even then," he responded, making her smile.

Ziva snuggled her face into his throat, finally completely relaxed.

Just then the baby elbowed hard enough for them both to feel it, startling them into a light laugh.

"I think your son is trying to say he loves you, too," Ziva observed happily.

Gibbs moved one hand so he could gently rub the spot where the baby had pressed abruptly and with surprising strength against her stomach, love and amazement clear in his expression.

He hadn't been kidding her – the fact that her body was growing and nurturing the child they had created together was nothing less than miraculous to him.

"Love you, too, buddy," he husked, aiming his voice toward her belly.

"So, do you still have time to have lunch with your wife?" Ziva asked without lifting her head from his shoulder.

"Oh, I can do better than that," Jethro responded cryptically, hitting the switch to start the elevator back up again.

TBC ...