Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Tim turned back to her. "Go on." He whispered, as she reached down and took his hand. She sighed.

"As it got closer, Tali spent more time with me. She was fascinated; I guess it was... the whole... childish curiosity. But she told me once that she wanted to be a midwife and deliver babies, and... she asked me if she could be there, when mine was born." She chuckled, shaking her head, meeting Tim's eyes. "And she was. She and Ari both were." Her whisper was soft, so only Tim and the director heard.

"Zivaleh?" She looked up from her book, her concentration on the words and the rhythmic caressing of her belly broken by her little sister's voice. Tali was in the kitchen, watching her.

"What is it, Tali?" The girl hesitated, before asking,

"... does it hurt?" Her older sister's brow furrowed in confusion, and she gestured to her stomach. Realizing, Ziva shut her book and set it on the coffee table, before patting the space beside her. She had been instructed to stay off her feet as much as possible at thirty-six weeks, and so sat back against the sofa, feet up on the table atop a pillow, with another pillow supporting her lower back. As Tali joined her, the younger girl perched on the opposite side of the sofa, as far away from her sister as possible.

"You do not need to sit so far away, Tali. You will not hurt me by sitting next to me." Slowly, the girl moved until she was sitting next to her sister, so that her knee was brushing the side of her hip. She jumped and scooted away, but Ziva gave her a look that told her she was being foolish. The younger girl studied her for a moment, before stating the obvious.

"You are so big." Ziva laughed softly at the seriousness of Tali's question. "It is not funny! It is true! Your tummy is so big, Zivaleh! Are you sure this is only one baby inside you?" Her older sister nodded, and slowly unbuttoned the blouse she wore and removed it, leaving on her bra on. Her hands gently began caressing her belly, following the curve.

"Ken, Tali, I am sure. The midwife confirmed, there is only one. And he is all I have left of him." The girl cocked her head, but she knew what Ziva was talking about. She herself had quite liked the American boy and his little sister, who was only about three years older than her. She also knew that Ziva was in love with him, but that her stubbornness would never allow her to admit it.

"So she wants you to stay off your feet?" Ziva nodded. "Because you walk funny?" Her sister laughed, which made the younger girl smile.

"Because I waddle? No, that is not why. I am to rest as much as possible, so I do not strain myself, I guess. I did not fully understand what the midwife meant, but I am following her instructions." They lapsed into silence for several minutes, before Ziva noticed that her sister's hand kept inching towards her belly and then pulling away. "Would you like to feel where his head is?"

"I can?" She nodded.

"Here." Gently, Ziva took her sister's small hand in hers, and gently laid it on her belly, at the top, near her breasts. "Here is his feet." She gently held her sister's hand at the top of her belly; Tali jumped back as the baby kicked at the soft pressing, and Ziva giggled.

"He kicked me!" She cried, eyes wide in surprise.

"No, he kicked me!" Ziva replied. "You just received the after-kick. I received the whole thing." After a moment, Tali returned to her place by her sister's side, allowing Ziva to continue moving her hand over her stretched and distended belly. "He is a very active little boy." She murmured, as her sister's small fingers skimmed over her bellybutton.

"Like you?"

"And hopefully like his Abba." Silence fell.

"Does he know, Zivaleh?" She met her sister's gaze, swallowing.

"No. I found out after he left."

"So you never told him? Ever?"

"No."

"Will you?" She sighed.

"If I ever see him again, ken, I will tell him of his son. And hope he does not turn his back on us."

"He will not." Ziva looked up at her.

"How do you know?" Tali grinned.

"Because he loves you."

"It is more complicated than that-"

"How? You slept together. He made a baby with you, Zivaleh. He loves you, otherwise, he never would have made a baby with you." Ziva moved to open her mouth, but thought better of it as she rested her sister's hand at the bottom of her belly, just above her womb.

"And there, is his head." A moment passed, before Tali turned to her, grinning.

"I feel it! That is his head." Ziva nodded, unable to hide her own smile. "You will push him out of you, when he is born."

"That is what birth means." Tali licked her lips, as she moved her hand lower, to slip her fingers between her sister's clothing-clad thighs. Ziva grabbed her wrist, tightening gently. Tali turned to her.

"I am going to be a midwife when I grow up and deliver babies for a living. Mrs. Goldstein promised she would teach me when I get older." Suddenly, the girl's face lit up in joy. "Maybe I will get to deliver your babies!"

"No, Tali, I am only-"

"No, Zivaleh, when you find him and have more! When you find him and tell him and marry him and make more babies! By then I will be a midwife! And I can deliver them!" Something sparked in her sister's gaze, and she swallowed.

"There will be no more babies for me, Tali. Because I will never see him again. And how can we make more babies if I never see him again?" She sniffled, blinking to clear the tears in her eyes. But Tali shook her head, reaching over to lift her sister's chin to meet her gaze as her voice dripped with excited, childish enthusiasm.

"There will be more babies, Zivaleh. You will find him and marry him. You will make thousands of babies with him, I know it!"