Rifiuto: Non Miriena

He had been calm as he'd listened to Ziva's story up in the conference room. Calm because if he'd lost it, he'd never forgive himself. But now, as the boy came towards him, he saw that she was right. This child was his son.

The boy was only about seven or eight, with dark messy hair and a small nose, like Ziva's. His skin was a mixture of their tones, and he was small for his age. But it was his eyes that screamed to Tim that this child was his. The green in the boy's eyes was the same he saw in the mirror every morning, it was the same he saw in his sister Sarah's eyes, in his father's eyes. He could see his features in her son, and he knew.

A parent knows their child, no matter how much time has passed.

"My... my son?" Tim glanced up at Ziva, and she nodded. The boy watched him with curiosity, and after a moment, he reached out, brushing his fingers over Tim's face. As his fingers moved close to Tim's eyes, he turned to Ziva,

"Ima, he has my eyes." She smiled softly, leaning down to whisper,

"You have his eyes, my angel."

Sarah looked up as the door opened. She set her cup down and rushed into the living room. "Timmy-" She skidded to a stop, at the sight of Ziva and a young boy with him. "Timmy? Who are they?" Her brother sighed, and he took Sarah's arm.

"Do you remember the year we spent in Israel?" She thought a moment, before nodding. "Do you remember the argument Dad and I had the day after the ball?" Sarah's green eyes sparked, but she shook her head.

"Barely." He sighed. "What was it about?"

"Ziva and I...the Deputy director's daughter?" She nodded. "We slept together." Her eyes widened, and she glanced over his shoulder at Ziva. "That isn't all."

"There's more?" She asked. Ziva couldn't help laughing softly at the younger woman's surprise. Tim nodded.

"Yeah. We..." He glanced back at Ziva, unsure of how to say this. "We got pregnant. Only I didn't know. Ziva found out two weeks after Dad sent us back to the States. When her parents found out, her father disowned her, and she was forced to leave the city. She had the baby and... has been raising him by herself all these years." He bit his lip. "Sar, I have a son."

"A s... you have a..." The college student shook her head, trying to get everything straight. "Tim... I... you... what?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I feel the same way. Now set two more places at the table and we'll talk."

Dinner was nerve-wracking, but once they got settled, Ziva told Sarah what she'd told Tim. She told about how difficult it was to be a single mother, and how she'd longed to track Tim down so she could tell him, but how she'd been unable to until now. By the time dinner was done, Sarah went to go, saying that she needed to patch things up with her roommate, but that she would be back in the morning for breakfast, like usual, and then gave Ziva a hug at the door. Once she was gone, the two settled down in the living room with coffee in hand, intent on talking.

Silence reigned instead.

By oh-seven-hundred, Ziva had reluctantly put Asher to sleep in the guest room, before returning to the living room to find Tim sitting on the fire escape, lost in thought. Silently, she joined him. "Thank you. For letting us stay the night. Our things do not arrive from Israel until tomorrow." He chuckled softly.

"No problem."

A moment passed before he turned to her. "What does his name mean?" She looked up at him, surprised. "I know that... Israelis usually pick names for their children based on either family members that have passed on or because the name has a specific meaning. What does his mean?" He met her eyes, and she licked her lips.

"My happy or my blessed angel. His name means 'my blessed angel' in Hebrew."

"It's beautiful." She gave him a small smile.

"I chose it because I was truly blessed, when he was born. Whenever I looked at him, I saw you, and it gave me the strength to go on. I needed that strength, especially those months after he came into my life. I would not have survived without it." He reached out, taking her hand and squeezing. She squeezed back, giving him a small, tear-filled smile. "I tried to find you, to write and tell you, but I could not find your address. And every time I tried to start a letter or e-mail, I... I did not know how to say it. I did not know how to put into words that I was pregnant with your child." She turned away briefly, sniffling. "And now... now I realize how easy it should have been- I am pregnant. Three little words. It was so easy, and yet... and yet I could not write them down..." She met his gaze. "I am sorry, Tim."

He took her face in his hands. "Shh. It's okay, Ziva. You're here now, we're together. We'll catch up, okay? I promise. I promise you, you won't do this alone anymore." She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she broke down.

"You must have been terrified, when you found out." She glanced back at him; they stood in the doorway to the guest room, watching their son sleep.

"I was. I was terrified to tell my family, but their reactions were not unexpected; especially my father. I have always done something to disappoint my father. And this..." She sighed. "This was just the candy on the cake."

"Icing." She glanced back at him.

"What?"

"Icing. The phrase is icing on the cake." She nodded. He laid a hand on her back. "If you need anything, come get me." She gave him a smile. As he left, she turned, reaching out and grabbing is arm.

"Tim? Thank you." He gave her a small smile.

"No problem. Good night." Once he was gone, she entered the room, shutting the door softly behind her and changing out of her clothing into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt Tim had given her before slipping into bed and pulling the sleeping boy close.