"Ziva?"
"Huh?"
"What?"
He reaches his hand out for her. She takes it, and he pulls her off the floor. He hands he the test.
"I don't think we're having a baby," he reveals.
She smiles, "That's what negative means," she looks at the plastic stick.
"Are we sure that's right?"
"There's another one."
"Another one? Where?"
"Under the sink."
"You put a stick that you peed on, under the sink?"
"No. I didn't use it yet."
He pulls it out, and hands the box to her. She rips it open. He tosses the old test into the trash can. She points to the cup on the counter.
"Can you hand me that?"
He looks at the counter, and then at her. "You want me to hand you a cup of urine?"
"Yes," she nods.
"You come over here," he insists.
"Fine," she rolls her eyes.
She dips the stick in the cup, and then lays it on the counter, on top of the box.
"So now what?" he questions.
"We wait."
"Can we eat while we wait?"
"Are you kidding me? I could be pregnant. Our entire lives could be about to change, and you're worried about eating?"
"You know how I get when I'm hungry."
"Ok," she agrees.
"Are you coming?"
"What did you bring home?" she questions as she turns on the faucet.
"Chinese."
"Ok," she agrees.
She finishes washing her hands, and follows him into the kitchen. He slides the bag towards her. She opens it, and pulls out a carton. She opens the carton, and begins eating.
"You're not going to share?"
"I can."
"No, that's ok. You eat it out of the carton."
"You're really afraid of my saliva? Come on. You brushed your teeth with my toothbrush last week."
"You scrubbed the tile with mine."
"I got you a new one. I put it in your side of the cabinet."
"I didn't notice it."
"So instead of asking if there was another toothbrush you just used mine?"
"I never noticed that you buy toothbrushes in bulk."
"Three, is not in bulk," she tells him.
"No, but when you buy three packages, it is."
"They were a good deal," she argues.
"Probably because they're painted with lead paint."
"You'll live," she insists.
"If..." he begins.
She cuts him off, "If I'm pregnant we're not naming it Thaddeus. I don't know why you even like that name."
"It just sounds cool."
"Not happening."
"Fine," he huffs, reaching her food.
She willingly hands the container to him. She walks away.
"Where are you going?" he hollers after her.
"To put an end to this conversation," she calls out.
She makes her way to the bathroom. She stops in the doorway, for a brief second. She takes a deep breath, and soldiers on. She stops in front of the counter. She looks at the stick. She grabs kleenex, and carries into the kitchen. She waves it around for him to see.
"Ziva that is disgusting. I am trying to eat her, and you're waving a urine soaked stick around."
"Just read it!"
"Stop waving it," he grabs her arm, so that it will stop moving.
She stops. She holds it steady, for him to see.
"Still negative. How accurate are these things?"
"Pretty accurate."
"You're sure that it's right?"
"Would you like to go to the doctor and have my blood drawn?"
"I wouldn't hate it," he admits.
"I'll take another one next week. If it's still negative, will you be satisfied?"
"Yes. Do you feel pregnant?"
"No."
"Then why did you take a test?"
"Because I was late."
"Oh."
"How do you feel pregnant? I don't even know what that means."
One week later: He sits on the end of the bed, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom.
"Are you coming, or not? We're going to be late."
"I'm coming," she promises.
"What does it say?"
"I don't know why it's necessary to have this conversation."
"We can't be too sure."
"Tony, I got my period."
"Maybe you just thought that you did."
She stomps out of the bathroom. She smacks the stick into his hand. He ignores the fact that it has urine on it. He very calmly reads it to himself.
"Ok, it's negative, just like the blood test. I accept that. Now what?"
"It's almost like you want me to be pregnant."
"Would that be so bad? I am your husband."
"Well we've been married for five years, and between the two of us we've cheated at least half a dozen times. We need to work on fixing this, before we consider having a baby."
"Fine," he pouts.
"Why are you pouting? Do you want a baby?"
"I wouldn't hate it."
"Is that you're new thing?"
"It's better than telling you that I'd like it. You'd get mad if I said that I'd like it."
"You're irritating."
"We're going to be late."
"They'll charge us, even if we aren't there."
"Ziva, you're the one who suggested this."
"I didn't think that you would jump on board."
"Therapy can't be that bad."