Rifiuto: Non Mirena

"Hey." He looked up as he shut the door softly behind him. Ziva stood on the stairs, in her pajamas. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, and she looked exhausted. "Where were you?"

"Went to talk with Gibbs."

She nodded, resting her hands on her back. "Oh. Did he have any advice?"

Tim shrugged. "Doesn't Gibbs always have advice?"

"Right." She glanced back up the stairs. "I... tried to sleep after taking a shower but... but I couldn't get comfortable. Because Amal wouldn't stop moving."

"He's moving again?"

Ziva met his gaze, resting a hand on her belly. "He is always moving." She sighed. "We have created a little track star. Do you want to feel him?"

He bit his lip, thinking. After his minor freak out, Gibbs had sat him down and over coffee, pretty much laid down the rules of men and pregnancy- rules still buzzing in his head.

Rule No. One- That baby is your responsibility. It's up to you to look after him, before and after he comes out.

Rule No. Two- His mother is just as much your responsibility as that baby is. She needs you as much as you need her.

Rule No. Three- When a pregnant woman wants something, denying it will just make her more determined. And that trait carries over into that baby.

Rule No. Four- In all matters food, massage, and sex-wise, it's best to give in than deny.

Rule No. Five- When she wants sex, you give her sex. When she wants Chinese, it doesn't matter how far you have to drive- even if it's to China- you drive to China. No questions asked.

Rule No. Six- Record as much as you can during her pregnancy; video recorded memories are just as important as the photographic ones.

Rule No. Seven- Fat and pregnant are two entirely different things. Do NOT confuse them!

Rule No. Eight- Tell her often that you love her and the baby. Especially during labor and childbirth. Because even though she won't believe you when she's covered in sweat and has a small human being peeking out from between her legs, she'll still take it as a compliment, and love you for it.

Tim took a deep breath, before moving towards her. He reached out, hesitant at first, before resting his hand over her belly. He waited for a moment, glancing at Ziva, who watched him silently. A moment passed, before he finally felt something sharp against his hand. "He's moving..." A small smile tugged at his lips, and he met her gaze. Slowly, he leaned forward, stopping inches from her mouth. He studied her, his voice soft. "I want to, but-"

"I want you too." She replied, giving him a small smile. "Please." Their lips brushed; she slid a hand up his chest, tangling her fingers in his shirt. The kiss was deep, searching. "Make love to me, Tim." She kissed him softly once before pulling and taking his hand, tugging him upstairs. She wasn't going to allow him not to touch her- not tonight. She needed this, he needed this...

They needed to find what had connected them in the first place, that raging, passionate fire that had consumed them both, that had led to their marriage and the baby growing inside her. She locked the bedroom door once it shut behind them before pulling him close. He wasn't getting away, he wasn't sleeping on the other side of the bed and not touching her tonight; he was going to make love to her if she had to kill him to do it. For once, Tim didn't let his familiar distance get in the way.

He pulled her close, their lips locking in a deep kiss- a kiss that had been waiting patiently in the wings. Their clothing fell to the floor; the sheets of the bed became a tangled mess. She lay on her left side, avoiding lying on her back. His arms slid around her, pulling her close-

Hours later, he awoke to find her hands threaded through his; they rested on her belly. Tim swallowed thickly, sighing in frustration.

How could you do that? You took advantage of her- or did she take advantage of you? Either way, sex was the last thing you needed!

He pushed himself up to study her. She was content, and though she was snoring, she had relaxed completely. Her hair was a knotted mass of dark curls, and there were bites on her skin- bites that mirrored the ones on his skin. Clearly, Ziva gave as good as she got. She gently squeezed the hand that rested over her belly, and Tim sighed. A moment passed, before he was finally able to extract himself from her and got up, pulling on a pair of boxers and pajama bottoms. He turned back to her, and before he could stop himself, leaned down, brushing a kiss to her temple.

After stopping by the nursery, he made his way downstairs, where he fixed a cup of coffee and took a seat on the sofa, flipping through the baby book. Ziva's growing belly was obvious now in the photographs, whereas in the earlier ones, she didn't even have a belly. But what took his breath away were the sonograms; each checkup revealing a little more of their baby- his arm, his head, his face.

He flipped to the next page- Ziva already had writing in it-

It's Twenty-five Weeks, Now!

I'm the size of an ear of corn, and Ima is the size of a bowling ball!

He chuckled softly. Though Ziva often said that she wasn't creative, there was no doubt, she clearly put a lot of thought into the book... into what would go into it, and the important milestones she reached as she progressed in her pregnancy. Milestones that clearly included him.