Rifiuto: Non Mirena

Her hands moved over the mound in front of her, caressing and rubbing her belly. She glanced at her husband, who lay beside her in the bed, propped up on his elbow, watching as her fingers moved over her skin. Forgoing her bra for the moment- she just wasn't feeling up to putting on any form of clothes, save her underwear- Ziva lay completely propped up against the pillows, her belly out in front of her. A soft groan escaped her throat as the baby kicked hard, and she took a deep breath. "I'm not going to discipline him... even though those are my ribs..."

Tim chuckled, reaching out and rubbing a hand back and forth over her stomach. "You know, when I was a kid, Sarah would make me play house with her. But this... this wasn't like normal house."

"How is it not like normal house?"

He sighed. "Because my darling little sister would take a soccer ball or basketball and slip it under her shirt and pretend she was pregnant."

Ziva burst out laughing. "You're kidding!" Tim shook his head.

"I wish I was, sweetheart. Mom caught her one afternoon- managed to have the video camera rolling. She also got a couple of photos of her."

"I wish I could see them- Tim? Where are you going? Ahuva?" But he was up and out of the room, heading downstairs. Ziva settled back against the pillows, stroking her fingers against her belly. He returned minutes later with a couple of photographs- both of Sarah, at about six-years-old, in a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt, her hair in pigtails. But what had Ziva laughing was the basketball-sized lump underneath her shirt. "Oh my God! You weren't kidding-"

Tim shook his head. "What made it even worse was when friends came over and she came downstairs with that under her shirt, insisting we play house. It was so embarrassing."

"No... it's cute! So... so clearly Sarit's always wanted children." Her husband nodded. "So... why hasn't she yet?"

"I don't know. Whenever I've asked, she's always said that she can't find the right guy. I think that my sister wants the fairy tale romance-"

"Sort of like what we have."

"Yeah. And... the problem is... she's holding out for something that doesn't exist. And if she keeps it up, then she's gonna miss her chance. And that's the last thing I want for Sarah." Ziva rested a hand on her belly, reaching up to caress his cheek.

"You are a wonderful big brother, Tim." He caught her hand, kissing her palm gently. "And you are also a wonderful husband," She glanced down at her stomach. "and a wonderful father." Their lips met in a soft kiss, before she pulled away, turning her gaze back to her belly. "And I am not just saying that because I am your wife. I'm saying it because I've watched you these last few months and... yes, we've had our problems, and yes, it's been difficult with the amnesia, but you've always been there. You've taken care of everything I asked, even when you weren't sure of what we were to you. And, also because I've watched you around Amal. You may not remember conceiving him, but part of you recognizes him as your son, and all of you loves him. And he loves you."

She then reached out, taking his wrist and resting his hand on her stomach. The baby kicked, as if recognizing the change, and Tim chuckled softly. "I-" But he stopped, biting his lip. Ziva smiled softly.

"Do you recognize Daddy, Amal?" The baby kicked hard in response. "Yeah, that's Daddy." A moment passed before Tim scooted closer, pulling Ziva until she was nestled between his legs, leaning back against his chest. He then returned to rubbing and caressing her belly, responding to each kick. The feel of his hands seemed to wind Amal up, and the baby spent several minutes pedaling against his mother's stomach, to Ziva's annoyance. When he finally stopped, Ziva reached down, gently patting the top of her belly. "Are you playing with Daddy, ahuva?" He kicked. "I know, baby boy. I can feel Daddy playing with you." There was another kick in response, followed by several sharp kicks against Tim's hands. Ziva winced as Tim chuckled softly.

"Easy, sweetheart. Ima's skin is getting really thin and your kicks are getting sharper. They hurt her." Amal kicked hard against his father's hand in response, and he rolled his eyes. "Clearly, he doesn't agree."

Ziva giggled, shaking her head. "Nope. But that's okay. Pretty soon he won't be able to kick anymore, so I'll let it slide. Because soon you won't be in my tummy anymore, ahuva. Soon you're gonna be out in the world and in our arms, and neither Abba nor I can wait to meet you."

Tim chuckled softly, surprised at how Ziva seemed to revert to mother-speak; the same type he remembered hearing his mother say when she was pregnant with Sarah. But what surprised him most, was how much it seemed to fit his wife. Ziva still possessed much of the tomboy attitude she'd had when she joined the team- though she'd obviously grown up in the last few years, that aspect of her still shone through. And it seemed, to Tim at least, that the pregnancy had just brought that attitude to the forefront.

Not that you mind- you love it when Ziva gets playful. It's one of the things that attracted you too her in the first place. The fact that the baby has brought it back is just an added bonus. Although, between your son and your wife, how in God's name you're going to get any peace around here is anybody's guess.