She cries all the time now. And at completely arbitrary things. It completely freaks him out because he had only really seen her cry once and that was before they had gotten together and she hadn't even really been crying. But now she balls, she sobs, she weeps.
He was wondering when the rest of the hormonal stuff he had heard about (yeah, he's been reading those books) was going to come but he would've never guessed it was going to be this much, this fast.
And it completely freaks him out.
It begins one night as they're lounging on the couch, her arms stretched above her, wrapped around his head, their legs a mess of limbs. Her fingers fiddle with his hair mindlessly as they watch the movie he picked out, Avatar, for the 100th time (it's one movie they can both agree on.) It's coming up to the ending, the lovers being reunited amidst the battle and as Tony begins to faze out, Ziva starts to cry.
He doesn't even realize it until moments later when he can feel the moisture against his cheek, feeling her back beginning to quiver, "Are you…crying?" (They've seen this movie together one too many times and she never cried once, if anything he remembers her scoffing.) He lifts his back forward in order to shift her but she turns her face, her hands balled to her eyes.
"No." She thickly replies but then she sniffs loudly and lets her hands drop and she's a mess of tears and snot, trailing down her face.
"Oh sweetheart, it's okay." He pulls her against him and she shoves her face into the crook of his shoulder, her body practically racking with her sobs.
"Ziva," He starts, mildly amused; he rubs at her back with one hand and keeps the other balled up in her hair. He's more or less stunned and more or less scared as hell.
"I hate this thing, making…me...overly…emotional, this is…ridiculous."
"It's not ridiculous babe, they're called hormones."
She shakes her head as a sob creeps out, her body shaking with it, "I have…no idea…why I am crying…so stupid."
Not knowing what else to do, he whispers a hush against the side of her face, rocking her back and forth the best he could as she curled her legs over and around him, tears melting against his white shirt.
By the time she's fallen asleep, the movie has gone back to the menu screen and he can't reach for the remote to get rid of the shining blue. So scooping her up into his arms, he pads them towards their bed, carefully laying her down.
He gathers the blankets over then drops down to the bed himself, exhausted, feeling like he too had cried himself close to sleep. It wasn't just because it had scared the living daylights out of him, but not knowing what to do, that desperate feeling of hopelessness of seeing her so upset, was the worst part.
He honestly can't remember changing and crawling into bed but he's suddenly awoken by the sound of retching somewhere over to his left and jolts awake, looking over to the clock. It was 4 am.
Ziva.
He pushes himself up and half stumbles towards the bathroom, pushing open the door, the light hurting his eyes. She's hunched over the toilet bowl, her face pressed against the ceramic.
"Okay?" He mumbles, bending down to squeeze at the back of her neck.
She nods unsteadily, turning her head to look up at him before another wave of nausea hits her and she's retching again, clutching her stomach.
"Oh honey," He mumbles and gets down to the floor, leaning against the cabinets with a hand outstretched over her leg.
"It's okay." She moans, "Go back to bed. Work." She reminds him before she's throwing up again.
He grimaces but squeezes her foot, not intending to move again at all until she did.
She barely turns her head, making a face at him for not leaving just as she coughs up and dry heaves and he wonders, half seriously but mostly because he's barely awake, if that could be bad for the baby. There was nothing left in her to cough up.
"It's. Normal." She slowly says like she's read his mind, breathing in and out heavily with her face against the crook of her elbow.
He just continues to rub her feet. He falls asleep with them in his arms, his back bent in a direction that will, he can tell immediately as he awakens, make his neck hurt for days.
She's sitting there in front of him when he opens his eyes, smiling weakly.
"Hey scruffy man." She says, pulling gently at one of his earlobes and he slowly moves himself up right, blinking awake.
"Hey." He says gruffly and pulls at the ache in his neck, "How long was I out?"
"Oh, you missed most of the fun."
He grins half-heartedly and reaches for her waist to bring her closer. She was brushing his hair back behind his ear with just the tips of her nails and it felt heavenly; he could fall back asleep right where he was.
"Gibbs called."
He's awake. She laughs as he rushes to push himself up, using the sink and her arm.
"It's okay Tony, it's okay, " She laughs, "He just wanted to see if everything was alright."
He squints his eyes at her, pausing immediately from fiddling to fix his hair.
"He did?"
She nods, still smiling as she puts either hand against his hips. He relaxes after a moment, against her and flicks his eyes over her face, she looked pretty worn out but still impossibly beautiful, her hair a wild mess, her soft eyes looking at him knowingly.
"Mmmm," He lowly growls and tugs her forward so she's rising on her tiptoes, kissing her full on the mouth; she tasted like his mint toothpaste, one of his favorite ways to wake up. She dips one hand down the back of his sweatpants and he tugs a little at her lower lip on a moan, pressing his face closer.
"I take it…you're…feeling better." He breathes against her lips.
"Mmmm," She moans and she runs both hands over his ass before sliding them forward to the front, "A lot better."
"Ziva.." He tries to chock out as she palms him, licking her tongue into his mouth. Oh god. His other favorite way to wake up.
Just as he's kissing her again and she's tugging down his sweatpants his phone begins to ring from the other room and she slips her hands up, bringing them to cover her mouth. She suddenly looked queasy.
"Phone." She manages before she quickly lifts the lid of the toilet and vomits again.
He hovers in the doorway and as she moves her head back she sees the worry across his face; she knew he didn't want to leave her.
"Tony, go. I will call you later."
He still doesn't move and she bites out the, "Gibbs," before another bout of nausea hits. He needs to block out the sounds of her moaning in order for him to turn and leave her, gathering his phone from the floor.
Minutes later once he's dressed, he ducks his head back into the bathroom.
She's now sitting against the lip of the tub looking completely drained, her face pale and her hair sticking to the sides of her neck. She's clutching to a washcloth in one hand.
He doesn't need to twist her arm into staying home; she can't move an inch without leaving the ceramic bowl. And her field time was getting cut back anyway but he doesn't like the idea of leaving her alone like this.
She lifts her head up for him to kiss, which he does, hesitating over the crown of it. She can barely shove him away, her energy gone, "Go. I will see you later."
"I'll have my cell on, all day."
She actually laughs a little as he backs out of the doorway.
"Tony. Go!"
He rushes out through their bedroom, already late to meet Gibbs. He can hear her retching again as he locks the front door. It was going to be a long day.
It's a long, messy day. Filled with suspects that don't want to talk and witnesses who do, straight out of their ass. The only thing that keeps him going is knowing what or rather who he was coming home to and that the day had to end eventually, which it does a little close to 5.
He opens the door to find her in one of his shirts and in a pair of cotton shorts, her hair twisted up into a messy bob with the music, as it always was, up way too loud.
Her energy was definitely back.
He watches from the doorway as she bobbed along, both hands clad with paint swatches. He doesn't know what the hell she could be painting but he doesn't really care, grinning. She had a cute little way of dancing without actually dancing, her butt doing most of the moving.
"Hey Martha Stuart, what've you done with my girlfriend?"
She spins around, her eyes a little wild and she moves one hand up to her chest, "Oh my god, Tony."
He grins wickedly, tossing his keys onto the table, "That's pretty easy to believe."
He walks over to the stereo, turning it down a little before he comes up behind her and slides his hands up along her hipbones, lifting the shirt almost to her breasts, "How's my baby doing?" He murmurs softly into the base of her ear.
She tips her head to one side, leaning against him and the groan slips freely out of her mouth, "She is…much…better." His lips leave sloppy kisses along her neck, his thumbs now peeking into the band of her underwear.
"And my other baby," He leaves her neck to turn her gently around, getting on his knees to press a kiss to her belly button. Ziva lets out a long moan, letting his hands take the paintbrush and can from her grasp. She moves her hands to his head, threading her fingers through it as he continued to lick his way down her stomach, "You…ah…you tell me," Her voice ends on a startled laugh, his arms scooping her butt up, lifting her easily against his waist. He buries his face into her neck and she wraps her arms around him.
"I missed you today, every single crappy second," He quietly says against her skin, hidden by her hair.
She grins, fingering his ear lobe, "I actually got a lot of work done."
He takes one of the swatches out of her hand and pats her butt with it, "I can see that, turning my apartment into an art studio?"
She shrugs as she smirks, "I was feeling creative. Haven't painted a thing yet."
He raises his eyebrows up and their foreheads meet, "Oh yeah?"
They stare at one another for a long moment and he forgets all about his shitty day.
"Gibbs gave me the night off."
She laughs until he kisses her and it dies out into a low moan in her throat.
They end up making love on the carpet, the sun pouring over them as it sinks down against the city and later, when they're taking a shower together he can feel the beginning bloom of her belly and he uses the stream of the water to hide the way he starts to cry and can't stop.
It doesn't freak him out. Not a single bit.