Well, I had to combine two of them.

jae

Night Owl

The only sound that permeates their darkened bedroom is her soft, steady breathing from beside him. Her back is towards him, and so his attention shifts between the rise and fall of her shoulders and the snow that descends outside their bedroom window. The glow of the streetlights bring the snowfall into sharp relief, and he's sure that by tomorrow morning, they'll wake to several inches of snow.

"It will be impossible to get to Gibbs' tomorrow in this."

His eyes glance toward Ziva's frame, where her low voice resonates.

He shuffles closer, bringing his arm around her waist, shuffling closer to hug her body.

"I thought you were asleep."

He presses a kiss to her bare shoulder, and she laughs, finding his hand on her side and weaving their fingers together.

"I have not been sleeping well for the last week." She murmurs, dragging their hands to press against her swollen stomach. "Your daughter has become quite a night hawk."

"Tony grins into her hair, her curls tickling his face pleasantly.

"Night owl, sweetcheeks."

Searching for the movement below her skin, she pauses their hands and lets out a soft, "There."

He feels the increasingly familiar, yet no less incredible feeling of pressure push against their fingertips.

His breath catches as she untangles their hands, pressing down on his own more firmly, and more movement spreads underneath his palm. She chuckles at his reaction, the sound warming his chest.

"A night owl," She amends softly.

She releases his hand as he splays his fingers across her stomach, trying to follow the path of movement, and she backs herself into his chest to press even closer to him.

"Let your mom sleep, munchkin." He mumbles against Ziva's shoulder, rubbing circles across her stomach. "Santa won't come tonight if you don't fall asleep."

Ziva laughs against him, and him arm tightens around her at the feeling.

He chuckles in kind as the silence settles and they sober, and Ziva's fingers eventually tangle once more with his. Her thumb brushes the back of his hand idly, and he buries his face in her curls.

"Are you thinking about it?" Tony murmurs into her hair.

Ziva's thumb pauses, tightening their hands together.

"It is hard to believe that we will be three at Christmas next year."

He smiles into her hair, pressing a kiss firm enough for her to feel.

"We won't be sleeping much on this night for the next couple years."

She hums against him as she realizes he's probably right, and thoughts of themselves as parents of an excited, little girl on the Eve of Christmas day bring a grin to her face, as well as thoughts of the kind of father Tony was going to be; the father he already was, and she feels overwhelming affection for the man beside her flood every fiber of her body.

The movement at last stills from beneath her stomach, and they drift off as they are; their hands captured against the life they'll soon know and cherish and love with all that they have.

She's sacrificed much in this life.

A little sleep doesn't distress her.