Chapter Ten

McGee couldn't have jumped out of bed faster had it been on fire. "I'm coming, right now. You . . . stay there."

Ziva managed to roll her eyes through the pain. "I do not think I could move if I wanted to," she said, then let out a small mewl as another contraction hit.

"Okay, okay," McGee said, more to himself than to Ziva. Now was not the time for him to chicken out. He needed to be there for her, and panicking wasn't going to help her any. "Take some deep breaths, try to calm down . . . I'll be there soon." He ran through his apartment, flinging the door open and slamming it shut again as he exited, locking it behind him as he ran for the stairs. "Uh, what exactly is wrong?"

"I do not know," Ziva said, wincing as she held her side. "It is far too early for it, but it feels like labor pains."

McGee froze on the stairs. "Labor? No! We were just at the doctor! He said everything was fine!"

"I know, but . . ." Ziva hissed through another jolt of pain. "I am having contractions, or at least that is what they feel like."

McGee jogged down the stairs. "Braxton-Hicks?"

"I do not know," Ziva said, frustrated. "All I do know is that I am in pain."

"Okay, okay," McGee soothed, pushing open the door of his apartment building and heading for his car. "Don't worry. I can call the doctor, or we can call an ambulance . . ."

"No!" Ziva said, and McGee froze again, before shaking himself free and opening his car door.

"What? Why? Ziva, this is important, and I'm no doctor, but . . ."

"I do not want to go to the hospital unless I am sure," she said. "If it turns out I am wrong . . ."

"Then we'll both be relieved," McGee said quietly. "Ziva, please. This is your baby's life we're talking about."

There was a pause, then a resigned sigh as Ziva said, "Fine. But I want to wait until you get here, in case it goes away in the meantime."

"Okay. I'm just pulling out now. I should be there soon." He focused on driving then, wanting to make sure he got to Ziva's apartment as fast as possible, without breaking any laws.

He arrived within 15 minutes, not wasting any time in getting out and running up the stairs to her apartment, having received a key from her to make access to her apartment easier in case of a situation like this one.

When he reached her apartment door, he still knocked, just to give her the warning, then unlocked the door and let himself in, calling out, "Ziva?" as he entered, turning on lights as he made his way toward where he assumed she would be, in her bedroom.

"I'm in here," he heard her call, and followed her voice into her bedroom. What he saw in the room took his breath away.

"Ziva," he repeated, this time softer, and crept toward the bed.

Ziva wore just a simple white tank top and a rather short pair of pajama shorts. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she was lying half on her side, clutching the area in which she'd felt the pain. When she heard McGee enter the room, she rolled the rest of the way onto her back and attempted to smile at him. "Sorry about waking you up."

"Don't be," he said, his eyes narrowed in concern. "At least now I feel like I'm actually doing something for you."

"Tim, you are being ridiculous," Ziva said. "You have done more for me than anyone could realize."

If he wondered what she meant by that, he didn't say anything, instead asking, "How are you feeling now?"

She gave a one-shouldered shrug, massaging her side. "I have not felt anything for . . ." She cut off with a hiss as she felt another jolt of pain, and McGee was automatically at her side, looking somewhat panicked.

"Do you need me to call an ambulance? What can I do to help?" Ziva didn't answer, just continued to hold her side, her eyes closed, so McGee took matters into his own hands.

"McGee!" came the more familiar name from Ziva's mouth, as he had lifted her from the bed and was carrying her to the door. "What are you doing? Put me down!"

"If you won't go to the doctor of your own will, I'm going to make you." Ziva opened her mouth to protest, so he continued before she could. "And before you argue that nothing's wrong or maybe it's nothing, neither of us are doctors and I'd rather know for sure than risk having something happen to you or your baby."

Ziva closed her eyes and gave in then, resting her head against him. "You are right. I don't want anything to happen."

"I know you don't, Ziva. I know you don't."

They arrived at the hospital within half an hour, McGee making as if to lift Ziva from the car, but the glare she gave him made him change his mind. "Uh, I'll go get a wheelchair," he said, and dashed off before she could change her mind.

Ziva pushed herself to her feet, hoping she could just walk into the ER and save herself the embarrassment of needing to use a wheelchair. She was pregnant, not handicapped.

McGee returned a few moments later, pushing a wheelchair. "Get in, Ziva. And no, it's not an option."

Ziva grumbled, but did as McGee bade, saying, "I do not know when you became so bossy, but I am not quite sure I like it."

"I'm not being bossy, just concerned," he said into her ear as he pushed her into the ER. "Besides, someone has to have some sense here."

"Hey!" Ziva exclaimed, twisting a bit to face him. "You should be glad I called you in the first place."

"I am, Ziva." He paused in walking before they reached the nurses' station and walked around to face her. "I'm only concerned with your well-being here. I care about you. I'd hate to see something happen to you because you thought everything was fine." She wasn't meeting his eyes, so he crouched down in front of her. "Hey, maybe we can get NCIS to pay for everything."

That made Ziva laugh and roll her eyes and McGee grinned, reaching out and brushing some hair behind her ear. She looked at him then and smiled. "Thank you. I am glad you were the first to find out about my pregnancy." He gave her a curious look and she continued. "I cannot imagine anyone better suited to . . . handle me right now."

His grin returned. "Well, you're not as scary as you think, Ms. David."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just wait until I am in labor, and you will see how scary I can be."

"Uh-huh," McGee said, returning to his position behind her and pushing her the rest of the way to the nurses' station. "Because you're convinced you're in labor now and I'm totally terrified."

"I could kill you easily if I wished," Ziva mumbled.

"But you won't because you think I'm adorable," he replied, obviously joking.

Ziva waited a moment before responding. "That you are, Timothy."

McGee still looked slightly shell-shocked when they reached the nurses' station and the nurse on duty greeted them. "What can I help you two with tonight?" she asked, her voice concerned.

Ziva looked up at the young, pretty woman. "Ah, I am about four and a half months pregnant and I have been having what I think are labor pains," she explained, and the look of concern on the nurse's face deepened.

"I will get you in with a doctor ASAP," she said, turning to her computer to look up something. She glanced back and added, "I will make sure your husband can join you, as well."

McGee smiled, clearly used to the assumption from the time he'd spent with Ziva in the past few months, and didn't even bother to correct her. It wasn't worth the time it took to explain it. "Thank you," he said, and he could sense the smile Ziva wore at the response that had become commonplace.

The nurse picked up a phone and made a quick phone call, and McGee reached down and rubbed Ziva's shoulder, causing her to look up at him. "It'll be okay, Ziva. After all, you'll have your loving husband with you."

Ziva resisted the urge to giggle at the notion, but when she went to respond to him, she found herself letting out a cry of pain as another contraction surged through her system. Her hand flew to her side and McGee moved to kneel before her, his expression worried.

"What can I do?" he asked, placing one of his hands on hers.

She shook her head. "There is . . . nothing. You can't do anything."

"Come on, Ziva," he said, gently taking her hand in his. "Give me something. I can't . . . I can't just sit here and watch you suffer and not be able to change it."

"I don't know, Tim," Ziva said, dejected. She looked at him. "I cannot ask for more than you've already given."

"You're not asking," McGee said, smiling at her. "I'm offering."

She returned his smile and squeezed his hand, her grip tightening as she felt another stab of pain. The nurse came over then, a clipboard with various forms clipped to it in her hand. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to have you fill these out, then we can get you in with a doctor."

McGee bowed his head, letting out a sigh, then said, "I hoped I would not have to do this, but . . ." He reached into his pants pocket, retrieving his wallet, and stood up, flipping his wallet open to the nurse. "We're federal agents."

"Tim!" Ziva hissed behind him, as the nurse's eyes widened.

"Oh, I am sorry," she said, stumbling a bit as she returned to her spot behind the desk and grabbed the phone again. "I'll call a doctor immediately."

As she focused on the call, McGee returned his attention to Ziva, who was giving him a look of disbelief. "What?" he asked under his breath. "Who knows how long we would have been waiting around otherwise. And I hate to see you in pain."

Ziva shook her head, looking down at her lap. "You do not have to do all this." She glanced back up then, smiling. "But I am glad you are. Thank you."

"Doctor Jefferson will be out to see you in a few moments," the nurse interrupted them, and McGee winked at Ziva. She rolled her eyes, but the grin didn't leave her face.

A minute or two later, a middle-aged man in a white lab coat entered the waiting area, his face drawn with fatigue, but he smiled at them. "Hi there. I hear you're having some abdominal pains?"

"Yes, they started about an hour ago," Ziva replied, shifting to sit up straighter. "It isn't constant, but it is quite painful."

"Alright, well, I'll have you come with me . . ." He moves behind Ziva to push the wheelchair toward the examination rooms, but Ziva stops him before they can get too far.

"The nurse said I could bring my . . . husband with me," she said, glancing at McGee, who nodded and took his place at her side as her "devoted husband."

The doctor looked back and forth between them, then said, "You're not really married, are you?"

McGee sighed and said, "It's a lot easier to say that than try to explain." The doctor continued to give them a questioning look, so Ziva broke in.

"Please, I would feel much more at ease if he were with me," she said. McGee placed a hand on her shoulder and Ziva closed her eyes, wondering when she had become so dependent on him, how he had become such an integral part of her life where she couldn't even see a doctor without him being there with her.

"Alright," the doctor said after a moment. "As long as you're sure that's what you want. Some people aren't comfortable with others being there in such an intimate situation."

Ziva nodded, then bit her lip as she felt another pain. "I'm sure," she managed to say, and the doctor nodded, understanding that she was in pain.

"Okay, let's go see what we can find out." He wheeled them down a hallway and into an exam room.

"Alright." McGee helped Ziva onto the small cot as the doctor took a look at her patient file that the nurse had found for him. "Ms. David, is it?" Ziva nodded, not even bothering to correct his pronunciation of her name. He flipped through the file and then looked up at her. "Well, I see you were just at the doctor earlier today and nothing seemed to be amiss then. Let's see what's changed since then. I'm going to ask you to get undressed and put this very attractive gown on. We can leave the room while you do that."

McGee stood and followed the doctor from the room, glancing at Ziva as he went. Once they were outside, the doctor turned to McGee. "How well do you know Ms. David?" he asked.

McGee narrowed his eyes at him. "We're not romantically involved, if that's what you're . . ."

The doctor waved his statement away, interrupting by saying, "No, I'm not concerned about that. But I am wondering . . . Perhaps your friend is just overly worried for no reason? Braxton-Hicks are common . . ."

McGee shook his head and gave a laugh of disbelief. "No, you don't understand. She called me, woke me up, to say that something was wrong. And I know Ziva. She wouldn't call unless something really was wrong, unless she was in pain." The doctor opened his mouth again and McGee said, "Don't even say it. She knows pain." He narrowed his eyes at the doctor, his expression dead serious, and the doctor nodded, backing away, and knocked on the door.

"Are you ready, Ms. David?" he asked, still giving McGee a wary look.

"I am," Ziva's voice came from inside the room, and Dr. Jefferson pushed the door open, revealing Ziva sitting primly in the bed, her hands in her lap. The two men came inside and Ziva looked back and forth at them. "Did something happen? Do you know what is wrong with me, why I am having these pains?"

Dr. Jefferson chuckled and shook his head. "No, no. Your friend here, ah . . ." He motioned at McGee as a sign for him to give his name.

"Tim McGee," McGee responded, still sounding somewhat put-off by the doctor's earlier accusations.

"Yes, Mr. McGee here assured me that your pains were not without warrant and that I should indeed give things a closer look." He nodded and moved closer to Ziva's bed, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"Wait a minute," she said, "you thought I was faking my pains?"

He gave Ziva a kind smile. "No, not at all. I was just trying to discern what the problem was. You see, a lot of women don't understand all the aches and pains that come with pregnancy, which is understandable. Your body is changing and going through a lot of things you're not used to experiencing. Commonly, women will experience Braxton-Hicks contractions, which can be just as severe as actual labor pains. What we should do now is see if that is indeed what we have here."

Ziva calmed a bit from her earlier fuming, though McGee still looked uncertain. "Well," Ziva said, breaking the silence that had fallen in the room, "do what you have to do to see if it is or not."

Dr. Jefferson continued to smile at her. "Alright, I'm going to ask you a few questions, and if your answers aren't conclusive one way or the other, I'll do a pelvic exam, okay?"

"A . . . pelvic exam?" McGee was the one who spoke, and when the doctor and Ziva looked at him, they found that his surliness had disappeared and had been replaced with a look of almost panic.

Ziva smirked as an opportunity to tease him came to her. "Do not tell me you are not familiar with that area of a woman, Timothy?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. She moved and grabbed her side immediately, wincing at the pain.

The doctor observed and nodded, then scribbled something onto a pad of paper. He looked back up at Ziva after. "Would you say your contractions are getting stronger, and have they been occurring more frequently or growing further apart?"

Ziva closed her eyes as she responded. "Ah, they seem to be about the same as they were when they started, but they are growing further apart."

He nodded and scribbled on the pad again, muttering, "Good, good." He looked back up and said, "That's a good sign. If you were in true labor, your contractions would likely be getting more painful and closer together."

Ziva cracked an eye open and looked at him. "So that is it. I am just having . . . false labor?"

The doctor shrugged. "Well, I can still do the pelvic exam to be sure, but if the pain is intermittent and not happening often, I'd say just take it easy and you'll be just fine. Perhaps your friend here can help you become more comfortable."

"How could I do that?" McGee asked, and the doctor turned to him, a smile on his face.

"Have you two considered taking Lamaze?"

A/N: Yay, nothing's wrong with Mini Ziva! :D And now I get to write something a bit lighter for the next chapter. I have a little bit of experience in that area. ;) Thanks for the reviews & such, folks! You all are WONDERFUL. :)