A/N: Just to clear something up that was presented in a review of the previous chapter. As I said I made the island up entirely myself and take full claim to it. That being said, even though it is party of New Zealand it is its own place. All of the people there moved there from other countries. It is not like New Zealand really at all. It is its own place with the people living there deciding everything such as what sports their children play, what the grades in school are called and what Holidays they celebrate. I mention more about the island and the people there in this chapter and future ones and had them written long before I got that review. I think I wrote this chapter over the summer or the beginning of September. Patience is a virtue.
Also be sure to check the Four Days album and the new poll on my profile! I would like to know what ya'll think about the gender of the baby. Of course I know, but I would like to see what you guys think.
-This is a repost of the chapter as I found an error that needed to be corrected-

VillageVoice

With the help of several men around the island, Ziva and Abby were all moved and settled in in no time. "I really wish you would let me help." Ziva said for what had to be well past the thousandth time that week. "I feel useless."

"You have no reason to feel useless." Abby grunted as she struggled to get the refrigerator into place. It was the last piece that had to be put in and she insisted that she could do it herself. Now, however, she realized that it was a lot bigger than the box made it seem. "You . . . are . . . doing . . ." She pushed as hard as she could to have the refrigerator move only an inch. "The most . . . important . . . job . . . there is." She let out an exasperated breath and took a breath, leaning against the fridge. "Growing a baby is hard work."

Ziva shook her head and brought her attention back to the book she was reading, 'What to Expect When You're Expecting.' The woman at the bookstore was adamant that no pregnant woman should go her entire pregnancy without reading. "Better late than never." She claimed. Well Ziva was reading it now and she really wished she had waited until later.

For the past week all Ziva had been doing was sitting. Sitting and shopping, sitting and shopping, but that shopping came to an abrupt end when she started getting really nauseas on the boat. So now her days consisted of sitting and telling the guys where to put things. Occasionally they let her move a book, but even that was a rare occurrence mostly happening only when they were taking a break and Abby was at the lab. Abby did get her a whole box full of books on her last trip to the mainland, so she had plenty of reading material, but the Israeli wasn't used to simply sitting around. She didn't know how women on bed rest did it. She took her solace in cooking. She cooked breakfast, she cooked dinner, she cooked for Abby, she cooked for the guys. Needless to say they had a lot of leftovers ready to get into the fridge. "When is Jeremy coming to install the satellite and the internet?"

"Sometime today." Abby answered. Because they were on this remote island island their television channels had to come to them via satellite, as did the internet. No big deal really, except for the fact that they had to wait a week for it to be installed. "But you know Zi I was thinking. Maybe we don't need internet."

Ziva put her book down. "You do not want internet access? You Abby?"

"Ziva, if we get hooked up to the internet I am just going to be tempted to e-mail Gibbs or Tim or Tony, Ducky, my brother . . ."

"And e-mails can be traced."

Abby nodded. "Yeah."

"Is there something that can prevent that? I have a hard time believing that anyone could trace an e-mail you sent if you did not want them to."

"Do you need the internet?" Abby asked.

Ziva shook her head. "No."

"Then there is no reason for us to have it. I have access at the lab if I need it for something work related, but other than that I don't think we need it."

Ziva leaned up and kissed Abby. "Then we won't get it."

"Thank-you." Abby kissed Ziva back.

Ziva pulled away and picked up her book. "Now get back to moving that refrigerator because I have things that need to get in there."

Abby brought her hand to the end of her eyebrow in mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

"And Abby?"

"Yes?" Abby pushed the fridge with everything she had. "What are there bodies in here or something?"

Ziva looked up and remained silent until Abby opened one of the doors and found the refrigerator empty. Ziva momentarily wondered what Abby expected to find inside before turning back to her book. "If you call me 'ma'am' again you will be punished."

"Promise?"

"If you ever get that refrigerator in its spot." Ziva winked.

Three seconds later the fridge was in place.

Ziva was spending the morning sitting outside on the beach when Samantha Clarke, the owner of the dance studio, walked over with her lively Springer Spaniel. "Enjoying the weather?"

Ziva smiled. "Does it ever rain here?"

"Not really, no. Maybe twice a month, but usually at night and it's usually pretty dry by morning. We do get the occasional storm passing by, but nothing that doesn't pass over in a couple of hours." She gestured to the sandy spot next to Ziva. "May I."

Ziva dug a towel out from the pocket behind the chair she was sitting in and handed it to the redheaded woman. "Please."

Samantha spread out the towel next to Ziva and sat down. "And where is Kate this beautiful morning?"

"Working."

"Already?"

Ziva chuckled. "The temptation of an empty lab was almost too much for her. She does not take idleness too well."

"Doesn't look like you do either." She said, gesturing to the various books, magazines and mini-picnic Ziva had scattered around herself.

"I do not. But there is not much that I can do currently." She explained, rubbing her ever-expanding belly.

"He many weeks 'till your due date?"

"Nine." Ziva sighed.

"Feels like you've been pregnant forever doesn't it?"

"Forever is definitely one way of putting it."

"There's a reason I only have one."

Ziva nodded and looked out across the water that seemed to continue on as long as her pregnancy. It had been a week since they'd been living at the new house on the shore and began the move-in process and this was the first time she had been able to get down to the beach even though she could walk there in under a minute. Technically, she could have gone down anytime she wanted to, but she didn't feel comfortable leaving strange men in her house. She didn't know them from a hole in the wall, not that Ziva knew what that expression meant, but she didn't know them. And Ziva never trusted people she did not know.

She loved the smell in the air – the sand, the salt water…it was paradise. Gentle waves breaking on the shore, dolphins jumping in and out of the water, warm rays penetrating her skin, although Abby made sure Ziva was wearing sun block as to not get burnt. Ziva always wished they had a candle that smelled of sun block. It was her absolute favorite scent, reminding her of the summers she spent with her family when she was little. When Tali and her mother were still alive and she was innocent and naïve and believed that the world was this great place because people like her daddy existed. Little did she know the means by which they made it so great.

She looked to her right and saw Samantha looking expectantly at her. "Sorry."

Sam chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I was the same way when Shannon and I first moved here. It takes a while to get used to."

"Where did you move from?" Ziva asked.

"London. Well Seattle originally, but I was living in London for ten years before I moved here. After the divorce I thought it was best for me and Shannon to get away. To make a fresh start somewhere. I got full custody and her father was never around when we were married, so he didn't ask for visitation or anything. It's beautiful and I have my own studio. It was too good of an opportunity for us to pass up."

"It is beautiful. When I can find my camera I will have to take pictures."

"You have plenty of time. It's like this almost every day."

"Too bad." Ziva joked.

"Yeah. It's a real shame." Sam with such a straight face that it took Ziva a minute to realize she was also joking. "Anyway, I came down here for a reason. I have a proposition for you. I know we talked about you teaching at the studio after you have the baby, but I was wondering if you would like to work before that?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I do not think that I am able to dance right now."

Sam shook her head. "No, of course not. Have you ever done yoga?"

"I have participated in yoga classes, but I have never taught yoga myself."

Sam smiled. "Would you like to?"

Ziva raised an eyebrow.

"On a trial basis to start. A couple of classes three days a week, depending on how many you want or are able to teach. There are quite a few mothers who have kids in Shannon's playgroup who have been asking when I'm going to start a yoga class, but I've only been to prenatal yoga when I was pregnant with Shannon so I have absolutely no idea what regular yoga is about or anything. And Shannon's getting older. I need to be there for her more and this way I can keep the studio open and not have to be there. . . Not to mention prenatal yoga has shown to have numerous benefits to both mother and baby."

Ziva turned back to the woman next to her. "Really?"

Samantha nodded. "It increased your overall strength and flexibility, it reduces back pain and swelling, helps improve circulation, it makes you acutely aware of your breathing and how to relax certain muscles that will help more than you can ever imagine during labor. If women could just learn how to relax their births would go so much faster and would hurt a lot less."

"Really?" Ziva asked again.

"Yeah. As I said I took a couple of classes when I was pregnant with Shannon. So what do you say?"

Ziva took a deep breath and looked out across the water. She had been getting some intense back pains the last few days and her ankles were swollen and anything that would help with the labor she was in no way looking forward to was better than gold in her book. She slowly nodded.

"Yes!" Sam exclaimed as she threw a fist into the air. "So it is completely up to you how many classes you want to teach and for how close to the birth you want to continue to do it and everything."

"How many classes do you need?"

"Depends on how many people we put in a class and such, but as of right now I have them divided into . . . I can't even remember. I have the papers at the studio. You and I can get together at some point and solidify things. Yoga is all very US and thus very popular here on the island. Now that we have a yoga instructor I expect more people to sign-up. Is there a good time for you to get together and work things out?"

Ziva looked at all the books strewn about. She had nothing to do that couldn't be pushed back a few years. "I am free now."

"Fabulous. Do you need some time to change?"

Ziva looked down at the bikini halter and short board shorts she was wearing. She wasn't particularly modest, not that she really was, but she thought that with having her own section of beach she could spend some time giving her belly some seldomly seen sun. "Yes. Can I meet you at the dance studio in half an hour?"

Samantha reached down and shook out the towel she had been sitting on and folded it back up before handing it over to Ziva. "I'll be there."

Abby walked through the front door and deposited her very plain looking black purse on the table below the security system. They knew they probably didn't need it, but better safe than story. After all there wasn't a fifty foot electric barbed wire fence around the island. "Zi, it smells amazing in here." She said as she made her way through the dining room into the kitchen. "What are you making?"

"I am making chicken parmesan with extra thick spaghetti. Just how you like it."

Abby ran around the island in the middle of the kitchen to get to Ziva at the stove and wrapped her arms around Ziva's neck, as her stomach was too large for Abby to get her arms around. She kissed Ziva on the cheek and hugged her tight. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"It is simple. You traveled around the world running from any number of people who would have wanted me dead had they found out that I was … not dead." Even as she said it she knew something wasn't quite right with that. She shook her head. "It is what would have happened. You left your friends and family behind, your job, your dog to run away with me on what very well could have been a suicide mission."

"Never would have happened." Abby said with one last kiss and reached over to grab two plates out of the cabinet. "I knew you'd keep me safe. You never would have let me come with you if you thought there was a significant threat of danger."

Ziva took the chicken out of the oven and set it down on two oven mitts on the island. "You are right."

Abby set the glasses and silverware down beside the plates. They tended to eat at the island. There was plenty of room and stools, and since it was just the two of them they felt no need to use the dining room. It was a long table with eight chairs and looked too empty with just the two of them. They ate in there once. The first day the dining room set was delivered, but that was it. The island worked perfectly fine for them. Abby brought the plates to the stove and waited while Ziva scooped generous portions of spaghetti onto them. Her pregnancy just about tripled her appetite whereas Abby just ate a lot all the time.

Abby placed one plate in front of herself and one in front of the seat to her right, placing a piece of chicken parmesan onto each of the plates as Ziva filled their glasses. In these months together, just the two of them, they had become a well-oiled machine. Too much of something was rarely a good thing. Especially when it meant just the two of them when Abby was such a social person. Ziva had a plan for that.

"I got a job today." Ziva began, sitting down at her seat next to Abby.

"You already have a job."

"Growing a child is not the kind of job that keeps me busy."

"It-"

"You are not the only one who has trouble sitting still Abby." Ziva interrupted. "Yoga, three days a week at the dance studio. Do not worry. I made sure it would not be too much for me or the baby. Sam insisted on a three-day trial period to make sure that I can do it. Yoga is good for pregnant woman. There are many benefits."

Abby mulled it over as she chewed on a breadstick. Yoga was a good form of non-strenuous exercise. It would be good for Ziva's pregnancy and her sanity. "The dance studio is next door to the clinic."

Ziva winked. "Exactly."

"What are your hours?"

Ziva picked up a piece of paper and looked for her classes. "I have Adult Yoga on Mondays and Fridays zero thirteen hundred to fourteen hundred, fourteen hundred to fifteen hundred. Pre-teen/Teen Yoga sixteen hundred to zero seventeen hundred. Then on Wednesdays I have Tiny Tot Yoga ten hundred to eleven thirty and another adult class seventeen hundred to nineteen hundred."

"Isn't that a little late?"

"It is the only time these women can take the class."

"Are you sure you'll be able to do it?"

Ziva nodded. "I should be."

Abby nodded. "If it's what you want then it's what I want."

"It is what I want."

"Then I'm happy for you." She leaned over and gently captured Ziva's lips with her own.

"Sam told me that there has yet to be a baby born here on the island. All of the children came here with their parents when they were younger. No one has had a child here yet."

"Gwen was telling me a bit about the island on our lunch break. It's only recently populated within the past twenty years by a couple from California or maybe Colorado . . ." She took a minute. "Anyway that's why the island seems like more of a part of the US than New Zealand. Then another couple came from the U.S. and then Canada, Europe, South America. Or maybe it was Canada, South America then Europe?"

Ziva thought for a moment and then moved onto a new topic. "How was your first day?"

Ziva instantly saw Abby's eyes light up. She was a lab rat through and through. And for once, Ziva knew what that phrase meant. "It was awesome. Their lab is … amazing. Top of the line everything. For a small-town island they sure know their stuff. If I had even a quarter of this stuff at NCIS I would never have been backlogged even by a day."

"So you enjoyed it?"

"Definitely. I mean, it was a little slow, being a small-town island and all, but I could spend hours looking at that equipment. I have pictures." She hopped off the chair and ran to get her purse. No doubt there would soon be a new scrapbook just for the lab. "When do you start?" Abby yelled through the house.

"Monday." Ziva shouted back.

"So we have the whole weekend free?"

Ziva nodded.

"To do . . . whatever we want."

Ziva smirked and nodded again.

"Which means…?"

Ziva sighed. "More shopping."

"More shopping. And picture-taking. We need some pictures to put up around here." The only picture they currently had displayed was the first ultrasound picture sitting on the fireplace mantle in their bedroom. All of the other photos were in Abby's scrapbooks. They needed some to put around the house – make it look like they hadn't been on the run for the past seven months. They needed to look like a normal couple, a normal family.

When Abby got back to the kitchen it was suspiciously one pregnant Israeli less. "Zi?"

"In the playroom."

Abby walked through the kitchen to the playroom. Currently it was being used as storage as they didn't have a child to play in there yet. Ziva was sitting in the middle of the room searching through the plain brown box in front of her. "Ziva what are you doing?"

"Have you seen a shoe box? About this big-" She gestured the height and length with her hands then went back to pulling everything out of the box.

Abby looked around, but saw nothing. "Can't this wait 'till after dinner."

Ziva spotted the black and white box and pulled it out of its hiding place. "Now it can." With help from Abby Ziva stood up and the pair made their way back to their forgotten dinner.

"Ziva, I know this might be a little late to ask this" Abby began, shoving another large fork-full of spaghetti into her mouth. "But . . . this house is amazing, all this stuff is amazing. . . Where did all the money come from?"

Ziva laid her fork down. Money had always been an uncomfortable topic for her "I have this account nobody knows about, untraceable. I opened it after my Mother died when I was fifteen. I knew there would be a time when I would need to get away, to create a new life for myself. I received an inheritance when my Mother died and when my sister died my Father kept giving me money. I think it helped him to feel less guilty. I opened the account in a different name and have made consistent deposits ever since I opened it. While I was working at NCIS my Father paid for my apartment, my car and…" She shook her head, realizing how juvenile it was going to seem. "A weekly allowance for whatever else I needed. I never spent any of the money I made at NCIS. I deposited all the money my Father sent me into the secret account as well as forty percent of every check I made at NCIS and sixty-percent went into my American bank account so that it wouldn't look suspicious. That and I have many aunts and uncles who send me money for Hanukah and my birthday."

"And that was enough money for all of this?"

Ziva picked her fork back up and nodded. "And a lot more."

"Like how much more?"

"I could own this island if I wanted to." Lemon water came shooting out of Abby's nose. Ziva hopped off the stool and rubbed Abby's back until she got her breathing under control. "Are you alright Abby?"

Abby cleared her throat and took a real slow sip of water. "Yeah." She nodded. "Great. So you're saying you're rich." Ziva ignored the question. "Like really rich."

"My Father and Mother both came from wealthy families. There is a lot more money that went to my Father when I died." She cursed in Hebrew. "But we have more than enough."

Abby nodded slowly. "Okay."

The rest of their dinner went by in relative silence with Abby digesting her new found knowledge and Ziva was just really tired. When they were finished Abby insisted on cleaning up and loading the dishwasher and ordered Ziva to the couch with a heating pad for her back. Ziva had given up fighting the other woman a while ago. One, she was too tired to fight and two, what Abby told her to do was for her own good. Abby was looking out for them. "Can you bring some pineapple juice when you are done?"

Abby smiled. "Sure. I'll bring it right out."

Ziva knew that she could do a lot of things for herself, but Abby wanted to be as involved as she could be and if bringing Ziva some pineapple juice helped her feel more involved then who was Ziva to say no? The Israeli chuckled. 'What did I do to deserve her?' She stopped and turned around. "I have something for you." Abby turned from the sink and Ziva was standing in front of her holding out an envelope. "I hid it in the shoe box."

"What is it?"

"If I wanted you to find out so quickly I would not have put it in the envelope."

Abby rolled her eyes, snatching the envelope from Ziva's hand before the Israeli could make another smartass remark. It was a plane ticket. "Where are we going? Do we have to move again? Ziva we just got here. I love this place."

"Calm down we are not going anywhere. You are."

"Where am I-" Before she finished her question she looked down at the ticket to find the answer. "DC?"

"By way of Auckland and Los Angeles, yes."

"Ziva I can't leave. We just moved in, there's still so much to do." She looked down at the ticket. "I'm confused."

"Your birthday is coming up soon. You and Gibbs have a tradition. You go out to dinner the night before your birthday."

"Yeah, but Ziva-"

"We do not want anything to seem suspicious. And it has been a while since you have been home. Your trip around the world was not supposed to last forever. You can say that you were planning on moving back after you had traveled, but you fell in love with some place and decided to move there. You went back to get some things and to say goodbye to everyone and have your birthday dinner with Gibbs."

A light popped into Abby's eyes. "I can get Harley!"

"Who?"

"Harley. My dog. I got her the day after you left; she and her brothers came with a case. She's been staying with my brother while I've been with you."

"Isn't Harley a motorcycle company?"

Abby nodded.

"Why did you name her Harley?"

Abby blushed and looked down at her feet. "You remember our first date?"

"Yes." Ziva answered with a smile. Such simpler times. "We went for a ride on your . . ." It dawned on her. "We went for a ride on your Harley." She wrapped her arms around Abby, smiling as Abby snuggled into her embrace. "I love you."

"I love you too." Abby said with a kiss. "Thank-you."

A/N: So Ziva's rich. Yep. Just another piece of the puzzle that is Ziva David. Don't forget to review!