"You're sure this is from something you ate?" Tony's voice is skeptical as he pulls Ziva's hair back and ties it neatly into a ponytail using one of the black hair elastics that he keeps around his wrist in case of emergency. He keeps the end of her ponytail wrapped loosely around his hand to make sure it doesn't swing in front of her mouth.

"Yes," Ziva mumbles, spitting into the toilet bowl. "I let Tali make my eggs this morning."

Tony scoffs, "Now you're blaming our seven-year-old for possibly giving you salmonella?"

"No, I am just -" her sentence is cut off by a gag and Ziva's body convulses as she throws up again. Tony rubs circles in between her shoulder blades and murmurs platitudes even as he winces in disgust. Years of working crime scenes and fatherhood still haven't made him immune to the grossness of puking. She heaves twice more before she goes limp over the edge of the toilet. "I think I am done," she mutters, voice hoarse and scratchy. Tony reaches over her head and closes the lid of the toilet before flushing.

"Okay, sweetcheeks," Tony holds tightly to Ziva's arms and helps her get to her feet, steadying her when she sways a bit. "I'll grab some saltines and a ginger ale and keep the kiddo occupied while you nap, okay?" He guides her to their bed and Ziva drops down heavily, looking up at him with exhausted eyes.

She leans back against her pillows and curls up into a ball, "I will be fine in a minute, Tony."

Tony smiles softly at her closed eyes and twitchy nose. "Sure, Ziva. Whatever you say," he whispers, quietly heading out of the bedroom and for the kitchen. A few minutes later, Ziva's snoring fills the house. Tali looks up at Tony from her perch at the kitchen table, her crayons paused over her paper.

"Dad?"

"Mhm?" Tony hums, distracted as he starts to clean up the kitchen counters.

"Is Ima sick? Should I go cuddle her to make her feel better?" Tali worries at her lower lip with her teeth and Tony stops cleaning to drop a reassuring kiss to the crown of her hair.

"She's fine, munchkin," Tony replies. "Swear. But i think Ima would feel better if you drew her a picture, just in case she's contagious. Don't want you throwing up right?"

Tali wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "No way! I'll just draw the picture."

"That's what I thought," Tony laughs, returning to the counter and cleaning up the dishes. It's been two hours since dinner and he frowns - there's no way Ziva would be puking up eggs from this morning's breakfast this late in the day. He pauses, thinking, and then something clicks in his brain. Tony drops the plate back into the sink and hurries off to their bedroom.

"Ziva?" he calls quietly, not wanting to wake her up. But he notices her snoring has stopped and the bathroom door is shut. "Ziva?" he calls out again, knocking on the door. "You okay?"

"Tony..." Ziva replies, her voice trailing off. He pushes open the bathroom door and finds his wife leaning against the counter, arms wrapped around herself.

"I was thinking," he says and Ziva cuts him off.

"Me too," she gestures to the counter. "I already went."

An involuntary smile graces Tony's face - it's nice to know that they're still on the same wavelength, even after all these years. He steps into the bathroom and wraps his arms around Ziva, resting his chin on the top of her head. She leans into his chest, looping her arms around his waist.

"I did not set a timer," Ziva mumbles into his shirt.

Tony shrugs. "We'll give it another minute or two," he says reasonably. "When, uh, when did you think it might be..."

"A few minutes ago," Ziva admits. "I did not have morning sickness with Tali, but this was not food poisoning. I had the test left from the last time..."

She trails off and Tony holds her tighter. The last time they thought she was pregnant had turned out to be a false alarm, but it had pushed them to admit that they both wanted another child, a sibling and a friend for Tali.

"Think it's been enough time?" Tony asks, a heartbeat or four later.

Ziva nods and together they turn to the plastic stick. Ziva's hand, shaking slightly, reaches out for it and she lifts it to eye level.

Two dark pink lines.

An unmistakeable positive.

Ziva claps her free hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. Tony breaks out into a cheek-hurting grin, looping an arm around Ziva's chest and pulling her close, her back flush against his chest, in an excited hug.

"A baby," he says, tone full of glee.

"A baby," Ziva echoes, leaning into Tony's embrace. Her hand drifts down to her stomach and Tony's joins it. He interlaces their fingers and rests his cheek against her head.

They're quiet for a few minutes, soaking in the news. Tony's heart beats steadily against Ziva's back, a warm reassurance that he's here, that he always will be here, that they're doing this together. Tears slip down her cheeks. After all their years apart, all the dramatics and trauma, they're bringing another baby into the world, together.

"Ima? Daddy?" Tali's voice breaks into their bubble of bliss.

Tony sniffs and calls back. "Yeah, munchkin?"

"Are you having a campfire without me?" she whines, hating to be left out.

Ziva lets out a wet laugh, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "No, motek, we are just discussing grown-up things."

They can hear Tali stamp her foot petulantly. "I wanna know!" she whines again. "It's not fair to have secrets!"

Tony looks down at Ziva and quirks an eyebrow before tilting his chin at the pregnancy test. It's a look that says 'what do you say? Let the kid in on the news?'

Ziva nods and they leave the bathroom, ready to fill Tali in on the secret.

Together.

a/n: happy birthday cote and ziva! my gift to you is fluff! :)