It's late, and upon Gibb's orders McGee, and Ziva have gone home for the night. Tony is putting the finishing touches on his paperwork, when he looks up, and finds Gibbs standing in front of his desk. The silver-haired man stares down at him.

"You need something, boss?"

"I need you to promise me something."

"Ok?"

"If anything happens to me..." he begins.

Tony cuts him off, "Nothing is going to happen to you."

"Instead of arguing, could you just listen?"

"Ok," he nods in agreement.

"If anything happens to me, I need you to..."

"Take care of the team, I got it."

"That, too."

"Too? What else do you want me to do?"

"Take care of baby."

"Where is this coming from?"

Gibbs cracks a smile, "I'm not getting any younger. In a few months I'm going to have a newborn."

"That, is a peculiar thought, huh?"

"Yeah," he nods, "You should go home. Get some rest."

"I..."

"Go!" Jethro insists.

He hesitates outside the door, wondering if she's asleep. He gently taps at her door. It was gentle enough to keep her from waking, if she was sleeping. He hears footsteps coming towards the door. He hears her unlatch the door. She pulls it open, and motions him in.

"I know it's late," he tells her.

"You seem to be over here, a lot more, lately."

"I was just thinking about you. I thought that I would stop and check on you."

"Check on me? I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. Is there anything you would like to talk about?"

She shakes her head, "No, should there be?"

"It was a big day. I just thought you might want to talk about it."

"Why?"

"Today you found out that you are..."

"I know," she cuts him off.

"You aren't ready to talk about it? Ziva, you know, at some point you are going to have to talk about it. Whether you're ready, or not."

"What is there to talk about?"

"You are having a baby."

"I know."

"You're at the half-way point. Don't you think that you should start getting ready?"

"I am ready."

"No, you're not. You don't have anything that a baby needs."

"I am ready," she tells him.

A light bulb goes off in his head. "Oh," he follows her to the couch.

"I hate when I get a feeling that I can't explain."

"Like, what? The love for your unborn child?"

"No. That isn't what I'm talking about."

"What's going on?"

"I just have the overwhelming feeling, that something is wrong, really wrong."

"A gut feeling?" he tries to confirm.

"Yes," she admits.

"You think that there is something wrong with the baby?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. I just know that, something, somewhere, in my world, is not right."

"Ziva, the baby is fine. You saw that. The doctor said that everything is on track."

"I know."

"You don't believe him?"

"I do."

He looks at her, and makes the decision not to tell her about his peculiar conversation with their boss. She looks at him, waiting for him to break the silence. He doesn't.

"Tony," she says softly, "Why are you, really here?"

"I like being here," he replies simply.

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?"

"Do you want my permission to stay? I mean you don't really need it at this point. You're here so often you have a change of clothes, and a toothbrush, here."

"By the way, that's a nice outfit."

She looks down at her over-sized t-shirt. It stops just above the knees. The extra fabric easily conceals the small bump that she's sporting. Of course it is an NCIS shirt. She can't even remember when she got it, or where she got it.

"That's my shirt, you know," he points out.

"It is?"

"I let you borrow it a few years ago. You didn't have a whole lot to wear, in the way of pajamas."

"Why is it so big?"

He smiles, "It was the only size they had that day."

"I've never thanked you for..."

"You don't have to," he quickly interrupts her.

"There isn't anything I could do to repay you?"

He smiles, "Probably not in a million years."

"Seriously?"

"Don't give up on me."

"What?"

"That's what you can do. Just don't give up on me."

"I would never give up on you. Why would you say that?"

"A lot of people, in my life, have given up on me."

"I am never going to give up on you. No matter how many stupid things you do. I'm in too deep, to ever give up on you."

"You promise?"

"Uh huh," she yawns.

"Bedtime," he points to her bedroom. She doesn't move. He takes a step closer to you.

"Why are you still standing here?" he questions.

"What about now?" she replies.

"What about now?"

"Are you ready now?"