He flips the back cover of the book open. He pushes aside the dust jacket, and pulls out a set of still images. He slowly flips through each one. When he's finished he returns the sonogram pictures to their earlier resting place. He hands the book back to her. She opens the drawer of her bedside stand, and sticks it inside. She takes her glasses off, and lays them on top of the book in the drawer.
"Mac can I ask you something else?"
She grins, "You're worse than my son with the incessant questions."
"I understand, you're tired."
She shakes her head, "Go ahead."
"You're General MacKenzie."
"That wasn't a question," she points out.
"Why are you General MacKenzie?"
"How did I become general?"
He shakes his head, "Why is your name still MacKenzie? Isn't that your maiden name?"
"I never changed it when I got married. In case you haven't noticed I may have a couple slight control issues. Harm didn't argue the point, so I never changed it."
"Would you have changed your name if he asked?"
"Maybe."
"You don't know?"
"I had been Sarah MacKenzie for so long that I wasn't sure that I knew how to be anyone else."
"It's not as if you become a different person, you just get a different last name."
"If you get married are you going to take your wife's name?"
"No."
"Then I think you answered your own question."
He smirks, "General, you're not a man."
"You're certain of that?"
"I have assessed your anatomy, and I have confirmed that fact. Also, you are pregnant."
"Oh, right."
"I'm exhausted."
"The boys had an amazing time sledding. It was all Reed could talk about at bedtime."
"And Harmon?"
"He went on and on about the Christmas tree."
"It's the best that I could do."
"He thought it was the best tree to date. He was especially impressed by the fact that it came pre-lit."
"I hope that we get out of here so that they can go home and have a proper Christmas."
"What do you mean?"
"They can be in their own home, and celebrate whatever tradition your family has. I am sure that family comes to visit, and…"
"Most of the time it's just us. Their grandmother is in failing health, and she is in no condition to travel from California. We go out to see her a few times a year."
"That's it?"
"I haven't spoken to my mother in more than a decade."
"I guess I just assumed that you celebrate Christmas. I didn't even ask."
"We celebrate Christmas," she confirms.
"I shouldn't have assumed what your religious background, or your traditions might be."
"You made Harmon, and Reed happy, and that is no easy task."
"I made them happy? All I did was get a Charlie Brown Christmas tree, and slap an angel on the top."
"You made Christmas for them."
"What are we going to do if we're stuck down here for longer than a few more days?"
"What do you mean?"
"We can't stay in this bunker much longer. We're all going to have cabin fever. It's not fair to them to have to hide out here. I should go, and then this can all be over."
"You don't have to martyr yourself."
"This situation isn't fair."
"And it wouldn't be fair to two unborn babies if you got killed, and they never got a chance to know you."
"How much longer can we stay here?"
"As long as need be."
"We can't stay cooped up in here forever."
"No one is saying that we have to."
"What if we're stuck here for months?"
"We'll make due."
"And then you'll be due," he reminds her.
"We'll cross each bridge as we come to it."
"I…"
She cuts him off, "Goodnight," she reaches over him to turn off his lamp. She returns to her side of the bed, and flips her lamp off. She settles beneath the covers. She lies on her left side, facing him, with her back to the door.
"Why don't you ever ask me questions?" Tony wonders.
"I already know everything I need to know about you."
"Really? Prove it."
"You graduated from Ohio State University, where you played basketball. You received a degree in physical education. You worked in Philadelphia, and Baltimore before moving to D.C. and joining NCIS. You are essentially uninsurable due to the number of vehicles that you have destroyed. Your father is Anthony DiNozzo senior. Your mother died when you were eight. You spent most of your youth in boarding school. You've never been married, and you live alone. You're originally from Long Island. You were once infected with the pneumonic plague. You are an only child. You did a brief stint as agent afloat on the Seahawk. Is there anything that I have missed?"
"My favorite color."
"Is orange," she reveals.
"How do you know all of this?"
"I did my research. Now can we go to sleep?"
He slips under the covers without another word. In the dark she lies there in silence listening to him breathe. She closes her eyes, but after a solid ten minutes it is clear that she isn't going to be able to sleep. She tosses from one side of the bed to the other.
"Can you lay still?" He whispers.
"I'm sorry. I am not usually like this."
"What seems to be the problem? Do you want me to go sleep on the couch?"
"It's not you."
"What is it then?"
"I am just incredibly frustrated."
"I know. Hopefully this situation will resolve in the next couple of days, and we can all go home."
"That is not what I meant."
"So what are you frustrated about?"
"Nothing. Just go to sleep."
"You opened that can of worms. So just tell me," he insists.
"It is different kind of frustration."
"Is there some way that I can help ease your frustration?"
"Not with your clothes on," she says under her breath.
"Not with my clothes on?!"
"You heard that?"
