She opens her eyes, and finds Gibbs sitting in the chair next to her bed. He holds the sleeping baby in his arms. He looks up at her.
"I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't."
"He's perfect."
"I think that we're biased," she points out.
"Probably," he agrees.
"I am just glad that he is healthy."
"Still no name?"
"No," she shakes her head, "Do you have an suggestions?"
"No. Whatever you name him will be fine."
"Are you sure?"
"As long as you don't name him after me."
"Fair enough."
The baby begins to squirm. He yawns, and opens his eyes. "Hi, handsome," Gibbs smiles. He gets out of his seat. He stops at Ziva's bedside. He slips the baby into her arms.
"There's your mom."
He turns, to leave. "Oh, Tony went to get breakfast. He'll be back in a few minutes."
"You don't have to leave," Ziva insists.
"I have work to do," he admits.
He leaves the room.
"Ziva?"
"Yes?" she looks over at him, as they enter the apartment.
"Nothing, never mind."
"Is there something you need to tell me?"
"No, it's nothing."
"Are you sure?"
"Um, I think that you have spit up on your shirt."
She looks down. "Oh, well."
"So can we play the name game, now?"
"No," she sighs.
"You need to name him. I have waited, and waited for you to come up with something. He's here, and he'll be going home soon. He needs to have a name."
She walks into the baby's room. She flips on the light, and puts the diaper bag down on the floor. She puts the baby in the crib. She turns and looks at her partner.
"Go lay down."
"What if I don't hear him?"
"That is why we have a baby monitor."
"I..."
Tony goes into the room, and lifts the sleeping baby out of his crib. He walks past Ziva, towards their bedroom.
"Come on," he insists.
"I can't sleep with him in bed with me. I will smash him."
"Just come on," he insists.
She follows him into the bedroom. He places the sleeping baby into a cradle next to the bed.
"Where did that come from?" she queries.
"Gibbs brought it over. He made it for him."
"It's beautiful," she admits.
"Lay down, and take a nap. I am going to go to the pharmacy, and pick up your prescription. Do you need anything else while I'm out?"
"No."
"I'll only be gone for a little while. If you need me call me."
"I'll be fine."
"Ok," he nods.
When she wakes up she realizes that someone is in the room with her. She rolls over, and looks at the cradle. She finds Gibbs standing next to it, scooping the baby out.
"Go back to sleep," he tells her.
"How did you get in?"
"Tony let me in."
"He's back already?"
"Yeah."
"Gibbs?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you ok?"
"Why, wouldn't I be?"
"Tell me the truth, are you ok?"
"Ziva I'm fine."
"The cradle is beautiful."
"I hope that mahogany is ok. I know that it's what you picked for the rest of his furniture."
"It's perfect, thank you."
"Do you want him?"
"He's probably getting hungry," she reveals.
"Ok," he nods, and places the baby in her arms. He leaves the room.
She stares at her baby. Her perfect baby. From head to toe, he was perfect. Dark hair, big slate blue eyes, a tiny nose, lips like hers. Ten fingers, and ten toes. He was perfect. There was nothing wrong with him. So why did she still have that gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach? What was wrong? Something. But with who? She looks at the little boy, trying to push the feeling away.
His eyes open, and look at her. He was a handsome baby, in his brown puppy dog sleeper, and matching cap. He looks up at her, in anticipation. His facial expression changes. He starts to cry.
"Shh!"
Hours later, when she wakes up she looks over, and finds her son sleeping peacefully in his cradle. She rolls over and looks at Tony. He is still sleeping. She nudges him, with her elbow.
"I'll get him," he answers.
"He's still sleeping."
"What time is it?" he groans.
"0530."
"Why are you awake? Go back to sleep."
"I had a dream."
"That's great, tell me about it later."
"No. I want to tell you about it now."
"Why?"
"Wake up," she insists.