Disclaimer in first chapter. First proper chapter. Hope you enjoy. xx

Thank you to my lovely reviewers. I hope you all enjoy the following, let me know what you think.

Chapter One.

It was six weeks after Tony and Ziva had gotten much too close, and Tony was seemingly suffering the brunt of Ziva's rage. He had commented how it must be that time of the month at which she threw a stapler at him and muttered something under her breath. Nobody heard her and nobody really wanted to know what she had said, or they were just too afraid to ask. There were no cases to be working on so the three junior agents were instead sat typing up reports or playing games.

Tony's current favourite game was trying to see how far he could push Ziva before she snapped. The two had long ago put their little rendezvous behind them, as neither could remember the exact details, and neither wanted anybody else to know about it. Although both had been trying to try to remember more details about the night, albeit for slightly different reasons.

It was not until a week later that Tony finally found out the reason for Ziva being so stressed, he had thought for a while she was being sent back to Israel. He feared that to be the case so much he actually turned up at her house again. When he knocked on the door he received no answer, he attempted to pick the lock Ziva having taught him how to pick basic locks previously. He cursed as ten minutes later he still hadn't gotten in; trust Ziva to have the most complicated lock possible. Instead, he sat on the step outside the door to her apartment, wondering if she would be out for long.

Tony had been sitting on the doorstep for about fifteen minutes before Ziva's car pulled up to her house. He watched as she sped into a car parking space and climb out slinging her work bag over her shoulder. He figured she must have gone straight from work to wherever she had been; only just arriving home. She got as close as a few feet away before she noticed Tony sitting on her door step. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door, leaving it open for Tony to follow her in.

"Where yah been? I've been sat outside for like twenty minutes." He sat on her sofa after dropping his own bag on the floor. He kicked his shoes off and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, pulling his tie loose. He sighed and stretched, turning to look at Ziva who was watching him with an amused expression on her face.

"Comfortable?" She asked, he nodded his reply, before asking if she had any food, he was starving. She threw an apple at him. "You just turn up at my house uninvited and want me to feed you?" He laughed and bit into the apple.

"No, I wanted to ask you why you've been so grumpy lately, I was wondering if you wanted to talk."

"Last time we 'talked' we couldn't remember what happened."

"So, no whisky?" His tone became more serious now. "You're not going back to Israel are you?" Ziva looked into his eyes and frowned slightly.

"No. Its, erm, a bit bigger than that. What has been on my mind." Tony looked at her and she went and sat on the chair opposite from Tony. She was holding something in her hand; to Tony it looked like a Polaroid photo. He watched her as she fiddled with it, obviously unsure of how to act and what to say. Tony decided he should take charge.

"What's that?" He asked pointing to the photo in her hand; she looked at it, and handed it over to Tony. He stared at it for a few minutes, before looking up at Ziva, who was incredibly interested in the hem of her shirt. She was twisting a strand of thread around her fingers, pulling out the stitches on the hem of her blouse. "You, You're… you're pregnant?" He looked at her for a reaction, she sighed and nodded slightly. "Congratulations." He announced.

"What?" She was shocked, he just congratulated her on getting pregnant, did he really not know what was going through her head, the same things were going through his head. She looked up at him, but he wasn't there. She heard the door open and felt the draught of cold air blow over her skin. She looked towards it and saw the doorway empty, Tony's jacket, shoes and bag had disappeared and as she stood up to close the door she heard the distant rumble of a car engine. She sighed and shut the door with a snap. She walked back towards her kitchen thinking it would ease her stomach if she ate something. It was then that she noticed something on the floor. She bent down and picked up her sonogram picture, she glared at it before dropping it on the chair.

The weeks passed by with neither Ziva nor Tony attempting conversation with the other unless pertaining to the case they had been working on. Ziva had found herself looking at baby items when she walked or drove past them on the streets and shocked herself when she actually began planning a nursery. Tony, although he had ran away from the initial prospect that he may have gotten Ziva pregnant, was slowly coming around to the idea. However, the two were too proud to back down at all. He instead had found himself watching Ziva more often than before, specifically her stomach.

Tony found that Ziva seemed no different in her attitude; he had thought pregnant woman were more emotional or threw up a lot. Ziva was perhaps colder than normal but he decided that was just because he ran out on her. He had noticed one thing, the sonogram she had shown him, was now being carried around in a pocket on her trousers. He noticed how her hand always seemed to be in that one pocket of her trousers, it had taken him several days to find out what it was.

It was now three weeks since Tony had discovered he had an unborn child. Ziva had seemed to come to a decision that she could raise the child on her own, and spent most of her spare time pricing up baby items. She had not quite figured out how to tell her father she was in fact pregnant and she didn't think he would take too well to her being so. She was now ten weeks pregnant, and had booked another scan for two weeks time. She had spent the last few days deciding whether to tell Tony she had a scan or not. In the end she decided against it.

At NCIS the team yet again were without a case, except unusually the bullpen was void of jokes, sarcasm and flying wads of paper. All three agents were busy typing at their computers. McGee was fine tuning the last few chapters of his next book, to be released sometimes in the future. Ziva had written three letters, five e-mails and mentally scripted several phone conversations, based on how she should tell her father she was pregnant. None of the scenarios in her head played out very well. Tony, however, was busy checking his and his families' medical records. The reasoning behind it was as a way of talking to Ziva. If he could be telling her about his medical history for the sake of the baby then he could perhaps get to apologise to her.

It got to half past four when Gibbs finally told the team they could leave, they all obediently shut off their computers slung their backpacks over their shoulders and made for the elevator in unison. Ziva got there first and held it open for Tony and McGee, who both jogged to catch it. The elevator ride was silent, McGee's mind was still on that line he just couldn't get right. Tony trying to catch Ziva's eye, who was in a world of her own, mentally trying not to shoot her father.

The three team members headed off to their prospective homes, each with their minds on their own business. Tony had watched Ziva as she climbed into her car, she quickly sped off the naval base, and McGee sedately followed her. Tony watched the two disappear before climbing into his own car. Even then he still didn't move at all he didn't even put his keys in the ignition. Lucky thing too, he had been sat there for five minutes when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his bag and flipped it open

"DiNozzo." He listened to the mumblings on the other side for a few minutes

"Got it Boss, I'm still on base, I'll go get the truck." He offered. He waited for Gibbs acknowledgment, when he got it he swiftly stepped out of his car and relocked it. He walked swiftly back into the building. Ziva had performed an illegal U-turn to head off in the direction of the crime while McGee was almost going the right way as he was. Ziva arrived to the scene first, pulling her car up alongside the police car already there. She got out and walked towards an LEO stood near the tape cutting off the house of what Ziva presumed contained a dead body. She stood talking quietly to the LEO on the other side of the tape, him telling her everything that he knew. By the time he had finished his brief McGee had turned up and joined them, Ziva having quickly caught him up and by the time he had finished DiNozzo and Gibbs had arrived in the truck, followed a few minutes later by Ducky and Palmer.

McGee led the way into the house, Ducky and Palmer behind him, Gibbs and DiNozzo behind them and Ziva bringing up the rear. Ziva's early guess had been pretty accurate, dead petty officer. Female, red-hair Gibbs type, she was slim, but quite muscular, she had an obvious gun shot to her head, her hands tied behind her back and a cloth over her eyes. Execution style killing, Ducky was already leaning over the body, McGee was taking photos and DiNozzo was busy sketching the scene. Gibbs turned to look at Ziva to tell her to bag and tag but instead he said:

"Are you alright David?" The smell of the crime scene seemed to be making her feel slightly queasy, she shook her head at Gibbs before running out of the house to throw up outside. Gibbs frowned at her as she ran out; he quickly re-delegated tasks leaving Tony to take pictures and sketch and told McGee to bag and tag. He then asked Ducky the TOD and COD, received an estimate and headed outside to find Ziva. He found her quite quickly she was leaning against the NCIS van her hands resting on her knees, a bottle of water in on of them, her head bowed.

"What's the matter? If you've got a bug or something I don't really want you at work." He tried to get her to look at him but she failed to keep eye contact. "You're sick Ziva, go home damnit." He walked off, not giving her the option of staying. She didn't move for the next five minutes, until she saw Palmer walking backwards out the door, indicating he was bringing a gurney out containing a corpse. Ziva quickly headed off to her car before she threw up again.

Ziva climbed into her car and sped off, Tony watching as her car disappeared around a bend in the road. He quickly got his mind back on task by slinging his bag more securely on his shoulder and picking up one of the evidence boxes. He wedged it under his arm and picked up the camera bag, throwing it over his shoulder to join his rucksack. He led the way out of the room Tim tailing him a few steps behind.

Ziva didn't turn up for work that night, Tony and McGee spent the night typing away at their computers. Abby in her lab processing the evidence, not their there was much of that. The killer policed his brass, there were no finger prints. The only piece of evidence they had managed to collect that had any chance of leading them to a killer was a hair. Abby had quickly plugged it into her machine to attempt at getting a DNA match.

When Ziva arrived the following morning, she arrived with three cups of coffee and a caf-pow. She almost laughed when she saw what was in front of her. Tony had fallen asleep leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head, feet on the desk. McGee's hands were still poised on his keyboard, one finger hovering over the F key, the other over the J key. Ziva walked over to him and placed a coffee on the desk in front of him.

She gently leaned over and nudged him awake, he mumbled something and she softly whispered the time to him. He immediately leapt up staring at Gibbs desk, where a coffee sat, one Ziva had just placed there. McGee looked down at his own desk to see a coffee sat there, he thanked Ziva who had walked over to Tony to wake him up. Normally she would have whispered something mean, or slutty in his ear. Instead she placed the coffee on his desk and knocked his feet off the table.

It was actually a good balancing act, his make-shift bed. So when his feet hit the floor his chair shot straight and he nearly flew forwards into his desk. He quickly righted himself and looked around the bullpen. Ziva and McGee were both at their own desks and starting work. A coffee perched on the edge of his desk. He picked it up and sipped it, it being exactly how he liked it, more sugar than coffee.

The team worked in silence for the remainder of the day, they only ever hit dead ends and after running through about three different systems and Abby still had nothing from the hair, Tony kept suggesting they just shove the case into unsolved. Behind Gibbs' back of course. The next day was almost identical, lots of typing, no field work. It was only on the third day when they made any head way.

"Corner store robbery. Guy in a bloody shirt carrying a .45 calibre Jericho 941 which is exactly what our petty officer was shot with. I get all that, and that the guy left fingerprints, DNA all that jazz. What I don't get is why he murdered somebody then went and robbed a convenience store." Tony uttered as Gibbs sped along another road, on their way to Clark Sampson's house Abby having quickly identified him from facial recognition software and found his address.

They arrived at his house in less than three minutes and all four pulled out their guns and they quickly identified Sampson and brought him into NCIS. Within an hour he had confessed to the murder and two convenience store robberies. He broke down under Gibbs harsh gaze, Tony, Ziva and Tim sharing a joke about what sort of a wimp could kill a person. The three were happily talking as they made there way to their desks to grab their bags.

Tony invited the two out for drinks, aiming the comment towards Ziva. McGee accepted the offer and went to forward it onto Abby while Tony watched Ziva for a reaction. After a few minutes she looked up, asking Tony if he said something. He repeated the question and she politely turned him down, she wrapped her coat over her shoulders and hitched her bag over the top of her coat. She walked purposefully towards the elevator, her arms folded across her front, subtly, protectively.

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