Rifiuto: Non Mirena
They lay together in bed, facing each other, hands laced, mouths tasting and searching. Another shower- this time, with Tim joining her- had resulted in an impromptu sex session, and now the two lay together, sharing kisses amid the blankets of their bed. She slowly broke the kiss, meeting his gaze she tugged him closer, pressing his hands against her expanding middle. He only tried to pull away briefly before giving in. "Go ahead, push. You won't hurt me." When he didn't, she pressed down on his hand-
His green eyes darted to hers as the baby moved, pushing against their hands. "Our little sprinter."
"Did you feel Abba against my tummy, hmm, Amal? Daddy's here, he's lying right beside us, with his hands on my tummy... he can feel you move. Will you keep moving, sweetheart? Hmm? Will you move for Daddy? I don't mind." She glanced at her husband. "Talk to him."
He started, pulling away and propping himself onto his elbow. "What?"
"Talk to him. Talk to our son, Tim. Let him know you're here. He spent the first three months of his development without your voice... and you avoided touching me- and essentially, him- for the last three, so talk to him. Let him know that you're here, and that you aren't going anywhere."
"But... what do I say? What do I tell him, that I was in a coma for the first three months he was growing inside you and that I don't remember him and barely remember you?"
"No." She shook her head. "Just... just tell him that you love him, and that you will always love him and will always be here and will do everything you possibly can to keep him safe, for the rest of his life. He knows who you are, Tim, he knows your voice when you talk to me... so... so just talk to him. Don't talk to me this time, talk to him." He sighed, nodding slowly.
"Um..."
"You can get closer." He met her gaze. "You don't have to talk to him up here. He's in my belly, not my head. You can move down and talk to him."
A moment passed, before he sat up. Ziva adjusted, sitting back against the pillows, watching as Tim moved down towards her stomach. He glanced up at her, before swallowing thickly. "Hi... hi, little one." He glanced back at Ziva. "What do I say?"
"Just introduce yourself, sweetheart. He'll listen."
He nodded, taking a deep breath and turning his attention back to her belly. "Hi, sweetheart. I'm your... I'm your Abba. Listen, I... I'm sorry that... that I wasn't around the first three months of your growth, but... but I was hurt, very badly. And I... I didn't know if I would ever get better, but I did." He took a deep breath, feeling Ziva's fingers slip into his hair. "And I... I know that I don't remember you or Ima, and I... I'm sorry for that, but I'm trying. I swear, I'm trying to remember you and Ima. And I... I do love you, baby boy. Don't... don't ever think that I don't love you, because I do. I may not remember you, but I do love you, because you're my son."
Ziva groaned softly. "Yeah, I know, sweetheart. I know, that's Abba's voice!" She reached down with her other hand, caressing the skin of her belly as the baby continued to move and kick and stretch within her. "You know Abba's voice, don't you?" She glanced at her husband, who looked up at her. "His kicks get stronger when I talk about you, or when he hears your voice, even if it's us talking together. He knows you, Tim. He loves you, because you're his daddy. He wouldn't react this strongly if he didn't."
Her husband nodded, before leaning down and brushing a soft kiss to her stomach. "I love you, little one."
Tears filled her eyes as she watched him, and she choked on a sob as Amal moved, rolling towards her right side, where Tim's voice was. "You love him? But you don't remember him."
He joined her, taking her chin and gently brushing the tears off her cheeks. "He's my son. I'm going to love him whether I remember him or not." She kissed him softly, choking on a laugh.
An hour later, Ziva had pulled on her bra and underwear and Tim pulled on a pair of boxers and an undershirt, before grabbing his phone. They'd been recording the baby's movements for the last couple of weeks, as Gibbs had said, and the couple found that such an activity only brought them closer. Ziva lay back against the pillows propping her up, one hand rubbing her belly. "You have the camera?"
"Yeah, it's recording." Ziva took a deep breath, pushing gently on her belly. A moment passed before the baby kicked in response.
"Oh, that one really hurt." Tim chuckled.
"He must be doing somersaults in there."
"Or running laps." She replied, pressing again on her belly. The baby kicked, pushing her skin up briefly. "Or maybe he's practicing martial arts."
Her husband snorted softly, rolling his eyes. "That wouldn't surprise me. You are a ninja, after all."
"Just because Tony calls me a ninja-" She stopped when he raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you're right." She pressed against her stomach again. "I can't believe that I start my third trimester next week. It... it doesn't seem real." She winced as the baby kicked. "Oh, that hurt." She glanced at her husband. "Soon he'll be out of my tummy and in the world... in our arms..." She bit her lip. "And we'll be parents."