Rifiuto: Non Mirena

Thanks to DS2010 for reviewing 8, 9 and 10.

"... what makes your pregnancy so special?"

The water was warm as it ran down her back, dipping into the crevices of her spine and rolling over her belly before dripping to the floor.

He has a point. Your pregnancy is just like any other- except for the fact that your son's father spent the first three- almost four- months of his son's growth in a coma. But other than that, he has a point.

She took a deep breath, rinsing the soap out of her hair as she thought back on the last few hours. Dinner had been quiet, with neither saying a word. Once the dishes had been cleared away, Tim had slipped off to the living room; Ziva had found him curled up on the sofa with a book open in front of him. As much as she'd longed to sit beside him, she was exhausted, and desperately wanted a shower, and so had slipped upstairs.

That had been an hour ago, and the water was starting to get cold. She quickly finished rinsing her hair before turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. When she came into the bedroom, she was surprised to find him sitting on his side of the bed, in his pajamas. "Not going to sleep in the guest room tonight?"

He met her gaze. "Do you want me to?"

She sighed, going to the dresser and removing a pair of underwear before grabbing her pajamas and setting them on the bed. Her mind raced, before she finally glanced at him. "No. I want you here, in bed with me, even if we aren't touching."

Then, without a word, she pulled her underwear on and then removed her towel, tossing it towards the hamper in the corner. She glanced at him, narrowing her eyes. "Don't tell me I married a man with a pregnancy fetish."

He blanched. "God, no. When Mom was pregnant with Sarah, I was terrified of her. Everything about it scared me; granted, I was... three, so I didn't fully understand everything that was going on, but..." He shook his head. "No, when I was sixteen, I swore I'd die a bachelor."

Ziva's face fell, and she reached for her pajamas. "Well, I'm sorry I ruined your plans."

He bit his lip, realizing what he'd said. "I was sixteen, when I said that. So clearly, I changed my opinion as I got older. I married you, didn't I?"

She met his gaze. "That is supposed to make me feel better?"

Tim shrugged. "Call it what you will, but I had to have loved you if I went so far as to marry you and-"

"Make a baby." Once she was dressed, she slipped beneath the covers, moving to button her shirt, but soon stopped, her fingers moving to trace the linea nigra that ran the length of her belly. She sighed. "I'm sorry, I just... I can't imagine what this situation is like for you... waking up nearly two months ago to find that nothing you knew was the same and that we're married and having a baby... but this difficult for me too. The man I married, the man I love... doesn't remember me. He doesn't even know the baby I'm carrying and... I guess... I'm just... just afraid that once Amal is born... that you'll decide that since you can't remember either of us, then you won't want to be with us-"

"That's not going to happen." Slowly, she looked up, meeting his gaze. "I may not remember you, but I know you're important to me, both of you, and... and I won't just abandon you. I was raised to stick to my commitments. And that includes you and the baby."

She nodded, shifting onto her side to face him as he lay opposite her. She hadn't bothered buttoning her top, preferring the looseness, especially given how tender her breasts were at the moment. Her hands moved down to caress her belly, tracing the stretching skin. "Soon I will not be able to see my feet."

He snorted softly. "It is not funny, Timothy." She replied, though her voice as filled with mirth. "This is your son inside me, taking over my body... moving and growing and-" She stopped.

"What is it? What's wrong?" But a quick shake of her head silenced him, and after a moment, she shifted onto her back and pushed the material of her top aside to study her belly. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she turned to him.

"He is hiccuping." Tim raised an eyebrow, pushing himself onto his elbow, watching curiously.

"He is?" Ziva nodded. "I thought hiccups couldn't be felt until later in the pregnancy."

"They are hiccups. Do you want to feel?"

Slowly, Tim reached out to lay his hand over her belly, but he stopped, retracting his hand quickly. "No, that's okay."

Ziva sighed, nodding. You are going to have to touch me some time, Timothy. We are both grown adults; it doesn't matter if I'm pregnant, I still have desires that need to be met. And so do you. "They are gone now. Now he is just moving around."

Silence filled the room, before he spoke up again. "I don't mean to make this hard on you, I really don't. I just... wish I could remember..." She shifted onto her side, tucking her arm under her head.

"I know, Tim. I just... I know a lot of my irrational thinking is the situation, and a lot of it is due to my hormones, and... you are really sweet to put up with me for the last three weeks. Any other man would have walked out on us."

He met her gaze. "Well my parents raised a gentleman. Your parents raised a killer."

She started, momentarily surprised, before bursting out laughing. Without realizing what he'd said, he'd shown Ziva that that old part of him was still in there. Now, all she had to do was get him to come out, and remember.