A/N: Yes, took a bit longer to update today. I had to go to the 4-letter word and all (that being work :P). But here I am! No Tony in this chapter, BUT it will be resolved soon enough. ;) Again, you guys rock. :)

Chapter Five

McGee parked his car and quickly got out to open Ziva's door for her before she could do it herself, knowing that while she may protest, she enjoyed the treatment. As he expected, she rolled her eyes as he opened the door, standing and resting her hands on top of the door as she said, "You do not have to open the door for me every time, McGee. I am perfectly capable of doing it myself."

He shrugged. "I know, but I was raised to treat a lady with respect, and I don't get to do it very often."

Ziva heard the sadness in his voice, though he covered it with a smile, and thought how it really wasn't fair that someone as much of a gentleman as McGee hadn't found a woman who appreciated him. "Well, I do not often receive such wonderful treatment," she said, stepping away from the door so he could shut it and lock the doors as they walked toward the restaurant, "so I will allow it."

McGee gave her a sneaky look. "Don't let Tony hear about that or he'll be calling you Princess Ziva." Ziva rolled her eyes at him and made as if she were going to swat him, but he held out his arm for her to slip hers through and she smiled and did just that, allowing him to lead her into the restaurant.

They entered a lush lobby, painted in hues of dark green and a burgundy slightly darker than Ziva's dress, and Ziva gazed around at the warm lighting and ivy plants that brought some life to the eatery. Soft jazz music flowed from the speakers, and Ziva inhaled the intoxicating aroma of traditional Italian food, then turned to McGee, a content look on her face. "It smells wonderful in here," she moaned.

McGee grinned at her. "And the food tastes even better than it smells," he told her, and suddenly found himself being pushed toward the hostess station. "Hey!" he commented, as Ziva let out a low growl behind him.

"I am eating for two now, McGee," Ziva said, continuing to push him forward.

"Right, of course." McGee conceded defeat, approaching the hostess with a smile. "Hi, I made a reservation under McGee, party of two."

"Just one moment," the hostess responded with a laugh, having seen Ziva nudging McGee forward. She tracked down their reservation with a finger and picked up two menus, stepping out from behind her station. "Follow me."

As they walked to their table, Ziva couldn't help but stare longingly at the glasses of red wine being poured at various tables, then being drunk by smiling, laughing patrons. "I will miss that," she muttered to McGee, and he turned to see what she meant.

"The wine?" Ziva nodded and he shrugged. "Well, it's not forever. Maybe a year? Hey." He nudged her and gave her a lopsided smile. "Maybe you won't even like wine when you can drink it again."

She rolled her eyes, as the hostess led them to their table and seated them, grinning as they settled in. "Expecting a baby?" she asked, and McGee and Ziva shared a momentary look of concern before Ziva nodded, hoping to keep the details to a minimum.

"Ah, yes, I have just found out," she responded, trying to give a believable smile.

The hostess smiled even wider. "Congratulations! I bet you're both very excited."

"Well . . ." McGee started, but Ziva interrupted before he could say anything else.

"We are," she assured the hostess, then gave her a sweet smile. "And I am starving after a long day at work, so . . ."

"Oh, I am so sorry for taking your time!" the hostess said, backing away from their table even as she spoke. "Rebecca will be your server. She will be right over. Again, I apologize." She hurried from the table, returning to her post, and McGee gave Ziva a questioning look.

"Why'd you lie to her, Ziva?" he asked quietly.

Ziva used her menu as a distraction and opened it, perusing the dinner options. "She did not need to know the details. It is not likely she is soon to become a close friend."

McGee saw her point and sighed, watching her flip through the menu. He opened his mouth to say something, but he saw the array of emotions flickering over Ziva's face and decided to stay quiet, instead opening his own menu.

Rebecca arrived a few moments later, rattling off a list of the daily specials and the accompanying wines. When she finished, McGee ordered first.

"Ah, I'll have the pollo gelsomina and a club soda," he said, then turned to Ziva. She quickly looked up at Rebecca.

"I will have the timballo siciliana and a ginger ale, if you have it," she said, keeping her eyes on the server as long as she could.

"We do," she responded. "You are sure you would not like an antipasti to start?"

"Yes, we'll be fine with just the main course," McGee insisted, looking to Ziva for her agreement. She was still looking at Rebecca and nodded.

"Alright, I will be right back with your drinks," Rebecca said, and walked away, leaving McGee and Ziva alone again.

Now Ziva no longer had the menu to be a distraction, and she tried to find something else to focus on, but McGee's warm hand on hers surprised her so much that she looked up and right into his eyes. Once she met his gaze, she tried to look away, but found it nearly impossible. She wanted to trust in him, to let him in, but she didn't know if she was ready for that quite yet.

"Come on, Ziva," McGee urged softly. "Whatever's going on in your head, you can tell me. I'm in this for the long haul."

Ziva's expression softened. "You really mean that, don't you?"

He smiled. "Of course. You're my friend and I want you to be able to trust me and come to me if you need someone." He lowered his voice as he continued. "And I can tell by looking at you, that you're trying to act like you're okay, but there's still a lot going on inside your head."

"Of course there is, McGee!" Ziva hissed, finally giving him a clue as to what she was going through. "My entire life has changed in the space of a few days. And I do not like how it came about, but there is nothing I can do to change that." She curled her hand that was under McGee's into a fist, her voice taking on a vulnerable note as she said, "I am scared. I do not know that I can do this. I . . . I am not used to the person I must become."

"Ziva . . ." McGee started, but the return of Rebecca with their drinks made him pause, as Ziva withdrew her hand from under his, putting it on her lap.

Once Rebecca had departed again, McGee tried to pick up where they had left off, but Ziva spoke before he could. "Perhaps we are better off leaving this conversation for another time, somewhere not so public?" Her voice had returned to the matter-of-fact tone she used at work and she gave McGee a pointed look, challenging him to defy her.

He shrugged. He knew now, she had said as much, that she was scared, and if she could admit that to him, he didn't doubt she would come to him if she needed someone to talk to. "Alright, just as long as you keep to that." He picked up his glass and took a sip, watching Ziva for her reaction.

As he expected, Ziva tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. "Would I make empty promises, McGee?" she asked, and before he could say anything, she reached over a placed a finger on his lips. "Do not answer that." He gave her a dirty look and she removed her finger, smirking a bit. "I would just like to have a nice evening out with a friend. Is that so much to ask?"

McGee's expression turned into a smile. "Of course not. That's what I intended in the first place."

Ziva returned his smile. "Good." She took a sip of her ginger ale, keeping an eye on McGee as she did so. She knew he would keep his word, though she could tell he was dying to ask her questions and make sure she was okay – that's what made him such a good friend. She couldn't keep a smile from her face as she thought about it. She was very lucky to have him in her life right now.

An hour later, Ziva set her fork on her mostly empty plate and rested a hand on her stomach. "I am stuffed, McGee," she moaned.

"Me, too," he said, tossing his napkin on his plate and letting out a deep breath. He reached into his inner blazer pocket for his wallet then, retrieving a credit card to hand the server when she returned, waiting for Ziva to protest.

She wasn't paying attention, however, instead sitting with her eyes closed and her hand resting on her still flat stomach. McGee's lips curved into a smile at the sight, though it was tinged with a bit of sadness. He knew Ziva was embarrassed about how this had happened, how careless she had been, and worried how she would handle becoming a mother. It was a lot to take in, and he felt a responsibility and a need to show her she would have him, would have all of them, no matter what.

The server returned with his credit card and he signed the receipt, then slid his card back in his wallet, looking over to Ziva as he put his wallet back into his blazer. "Hey, Zee," he finally said softly, breaking the spell she was under and causing her to open her eyes and meet his gaze. He smiled at her. "You ready to go?"

She gave him a lazy smile. "I do not think I can move, McGee."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You trying to get me to carry you to the car, David? I might be a nice guy, but that's pushing it."

Ziva laughed as McGee stood from his seat and walked around to her side of the table, holding out a hand for her to take so he could at the least pull her up from her chair. She placed her hand in his and stood, her lips turned up in a smirk. "At least I am not nine months pregnant right now, yes?" she said, and McGee gave a small smile, knowing that the joke was her way of trying to grow comfortable with the situation.

"True," he agreed, cocking an eyebrow at her, "but I'm betting there's a lot of muscle under that dress, and I may be in better shape now, but I don't know if I'm in that good of shape."

Ziva slipped an arm through his and smiled, leaning slightly into him as they walked from the restaurant. "You underestimate yourself, Timothy," she murmured, wishing she could understand why he always did this – the doubting and putting himself down, even in jest.

He shrugged. "Just being realistic," he said, a bit uncomfortable with the sudden shift to him, but glad at the same time that he was able to distract Ziva. They were silent for a few more minutes as they continued the walk back to his car, the night air cool against their faces. Once they reached McGee's car, McGee stopped on the passenger side to open the door for Ziva, allowing her to get inside before walking to the driver's side and sliding into his own seat. As he shut the door, he glanced over at his companion. She sensed him looking at her and returned the gaze, giving him a soft smile.

"I had a very nice time tonight, McGee," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you for convincing me to come out."

He smirked at her. "Hey, you have to eat," he said, mocking her earlier words.

She rolled her eyes at him and faced forward again, thinking. After a moment, she opened her mouth to speak, but McGee seemed to know what she was going to say and interrupted her, saying, "It'll be okay." Ziva turned her head to look at him and he smiled. "In fact, I think this could play out better than anyone expected."

If Ziva wondered what he meant by that, she didn't say anything, just settled back into her seat as McGee started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

A/N: Aw, a date! ;) Haha. If you were thinking this wasn't going to get very McGiva-y, you don't know me very well. ;) Haha. Hope you're all still enjoying it! :)