Rifiuto: Non Miriena

It was like one of those spit takes in the old silent films.

Tim choked, caught off-guard by her words, and spewed the tea he'd been trying to drink all over the coffee table. Ziva reared back, unsure of what to do, as Tim choked air into his lungs. She resisted the urge to rub his back, knowing if she touched him, she wouldn't be able to stop, so she sat beside him, giving him time to catch his breath. When he finally did, his voice was strained as he looked at her. "I'm sorry? I must have... heard you wrong."

She shook her head. "No, you heard correct. I am going to have a baby, and you are going to be its father." He just glanced at her as he set his cup down and got up, going into the kitchen to grab a towel. When he returned, he quickly mopped up the mess, asking,

"Why me? Why not Tony? He's a thousand times more qualified than me to give you a baby. Or... hell, even Gibbs is more qualified than me." Without looking at her, he got up, taking his mug into the kitchen and putting it into the dishwasher. Ziva followed, cornering him by the sink. He turned, jumping and letting out a yip. "God, Ziva, do you have to sneak?"

She narrowed her eyes, and then reached up, gently smacking him in the back of the head. He winced. "I am not going to ask Tony because he is Tony. And Tony has the maturity of a six-year-old. And I am not going to ask Gibbs because he is Gibbs, and our boss. I am going to have a baby and I am going to have it with you, McGee, because-"

"But there are a million other men in the world who would be better suited to be a father than me!" He replied, moving past her. She turned, watching as he headed back into the living room and began to tidy up the novel pages she'd been leafing through.

"I do not want a million other men. I want you." She said, going into the living room. She swallowed, preparing to open herself up to pain. It was always something painful when she put her trust in someone else. She'd learned to rely on herself, after all. "I trust you." She whispered. He stopped, turning to her. He studied her silently, seeing the pain in her eyes, the fear as she waited for the rejection. He sighed, takng a seat on the sofa. She joined him, reaching out to take his hand. He let her, watching as she rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand.

"I don't understand, Ziva. I... I mean, I understand the desire to have a baby. I want children too," He amended. "But... but why choose me? Besides the trust... I'm the last person to have a baby with. I'm a computer geek and a lousy NCIS Agent." She squeezed his hand before reaching up and taking his face in her hands.

"I have chosen you because you are my best friend, McGee. You are loyal, and trustworthy, and kind, and protective and gentlemanly. You are a prince among men. You are brave and strong and smart. You are brilliant, not smart, brilliant. You are a good agent. You are chivalrous and mature, and that is why I want to have my baby with you. You have everything I want my baby to have. You accepted me before either Tony, Abby or Gibbs; trusted me before they did. That is why I want to have my baby with you."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Ziva-"

"Please, Tim. I want this, so much." She leaned closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Do not take this away from me, too."

When he looked up, she had left.


He lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, Ziva's words running circles in his head. She wanted to have a baby with him. Ziva David, the exotic Israeli, wanted him to father her child. No matter how often he thought about it, he always came back to that surprising revelation. She wanted him to give her a baby.

Because she trusted him.

A moment passed, before he sat up, pushing the covers aside. He took a deep breath, and then got up, heading into the kitchen. Jethro woke up, raising his head before returning to sleep. Once in the kitchen, Tim fixed a cup of tea and took a seat at the table. Ziva had given him a big decision. She was asking a lot from him. To create a tiny human being, that would be dependent on them both for the next eighteen years. To be a part of something that would probably have his eyes, her nose, or his smile and her cheekbones. That would need to be fed, changed, held, played with... that would learn to walk and talk. That would call him Daddy.

Daddy.

He pushed his cup aside and buried his face in his arms. She'd said he was her best friend, and he had to admit, she was his. So why not? Best friends could have a child and still remain just that. It was like that whole Friends-With-Benefits thing, only this would involve a small, living, breathing human being.

His head snapped up at a knock on the door, and after a moment, he got up, going into the living room and looking through the peephole.

Speak of the devil, and she doth appear...

Sighing, he unlocked the door, pulling it open. "Hey, Ziva." She gave him a small smile. "Come on in." As the door shut behind her, he asked, "Couldn't sleep?"

"No."

"Neither could I." He returned to the kitchen. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself and followed him, accepting the cup he set in front of her as she took a seat next to him.

"It is because of me, and what I am asking." She replied, nodding. He nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his tea.

"Look, Ziva, it's not that I don't want to, or wouldn't, but-"

"You would like to know the conditions and terms." She said slowly.

"Yes." He said, watching her. She sighed, glancing at her cup before reaching out and running her finger along the rim. A moment passed, before she took a deep breath, and spoke.

"You do not have to do anything. Well, except for the obvious." She amended, thinking. "But you do not have to be around for the pregnancy, or be there for the birth, or be there at all if you do not want to be. I am not asking you to be, I am just..."

"Asking me to give you a baby." She nodded, meeting his gaze. He sat back, weighing the options. Ziva waited, preparing herself for her chance to rush from her, but after a moment, he reached out, taking her hand. He glanced down at their hands quickly, before meeting her dark eyes and squeezing her hand. Slowly, he nodded.

"If it will make you happy, Ziva. We'll have a baby."