He smiles at the answering flutter against his fingertips.
They haven't met her, yet. But she's no stranger.
He feels like they've known her for all of time.
Drawing his hand across her body, he searches for the familiar pressure of tiny hands, tiny toes, stretching and pressing against the growing expanse of her stomach. His fingers rake lower, and as his thumb brushes a spot above her hip, she releases a quiet laugh.
Oops.
Under the early morning sunrise, she rolls her body towards him to catch his gaze, molten brown eyes warming as she looks at him for the first time of the day.
His heart swells, and he finds himself falling even more in love.
"Did I wake you?"
Her eyelashes flutter, a content sigh accompanies a shake of her head. "No." What a beautiful creature, he thinks.
Her voice is still thick with sleep. Or is her throat constricted with emotion?
Is she as content as he in this moment?
The blush blooming under her olive skin serves to confirm his suspicion. Somewhere beneath the sheets, a warm leg tangles with his. An ache within him ceases. He hadn't realized he was missing the contact. She moves even closer, presses her lips to his neck and her breath is so very warm, fanning across his jaw. "We have been awake for a while." Her choice in pronouns has him grinning. He returns his hand to her stomach now between them, searching with his touch for yet another kick against his palm. Sure enough, a gentle flutter.
He is not disappointed.
"She needs a name."
He presses back against their daughter's touch, sliding his other hand through her hair, fisting her curls tightly against her neck. God, he loves her curls. Will their daughter inherit them? He sure hopes so.
The woman beside him is obvious to his wandering mind.
"She is not here yet, Tony."
Still, a smile slips across her lips, drawing her gaze up to meet his eyes. Hers shine with amusement, and he mirrors her look in kind. "But she will be soon." He emphasizes with unrestrained glee, and it makers her laugh and shake her head again. He waits patiently as she settles down, sure that she sees he wants to be serious.
A hushed utterance. "Your sister?"
A suspicious gleam falls across her eyes, filling with a hint of pain, but more so affection. "Tali?" She murmurs, her tone questioning. The name of her late sister seems to resonate across their bedroom. He nods, brushing his thumb across the tips of her curls in his fist. "She meant the world to you, Ziva."
She nods, her lips pulling up in a a smile that only holds a shadow of its usual radiance. "She was," She agrees, then exhales deeply. "But you are my world now," her hand presses his hand still splayed across her stomach. "And she," he grins as Ziva presses more firmly against his hand, the strongest flutter yet pressing back beneath their hands, "Needs her own legacy. One to call hers, yes?"
He nods his understanding, and her lips meet his in their mutual agreement. "Her own legacy," he amends, drawing his mouth away from hers. She smiles, nodding, and draws herself closer to him. Her lips chase his, and talking becomes a distraction.
"You will see," she mouths agains his skin, "She will name herself." Her voice is full of conviction. "This is her life, and we will protect her from what our parents could not."
His smile grows at her words.
The possibilities excite him. What she will become, who she will be. Would she be more like her? He knows she will be beautiful. There was no question of that. Would she be quiet and thoughtful? Would she love movies and give them a run for their money? Will she pick olives off every pizza, like her, or would she cringe at taste of blueberries, like him? He doesn't know what she will be, who she will be. But he loves her for everything she isn't and everything she is, even now.
He couldn't wait.
Cradled to her chest, the cries begin to ease. Ziva's teary laugh combines with his own. "Hello, beautiful." He chokes out, greeting their daughter for the first time. When had he started crying? "You look so familiar…." He knows this little person. How could he not? He's known her all along. Ziva's sweaty cheek falls against his shoulder.
What beautiful creatures.