In general, Ziva thoroughly disliked doctors. She supposed it was an aversion accrued through a lifetime of waiting for that one doctor who would see her x-rays and her medical file and condemn her to a life of desk work. Every injury was a failure on her part—to be faster, smarter, better than her enemy—and meant time away from her mission serving Mossad. Every doctor held the power to take away her job, and her purpose, to reduce her to nothing in her father's eyes. They were a reminder that her body was fragile, and could fail at any moment. They were condescending at best, disdainful at worst. One look at her history of fractured bones and battered flesh, and she was tossed into the same pile as thrill seekers and die-hards. It was one of the reasons why she enjoyed Ducky's company so much. Donald Mallard was knowledgeable, and though not technically a practicing physician, spoke to her in direct terms with no judgement whatsoever.
When looking for an obstetrician, Ziva doubted she would find a doctor she would find similar ease with. However, she was pleasantly surprised when she found a woman who was not only all of the things Ducky was, but had a facility to match. In place of autopsy tables and cadaver drawers Dr. Clemens' office sported plush chairs and warm colors, no doubt specifically designed to put an anxious mother at ease. Despite the décor, Ziva couldn't dispel the flutter of nervousness as Dr. Clemens—"Clara, please," the doctor requested within moments of meeting—spread warm jelly over Ziva's stomach and picked up the Doppler wand.
"Ready?" Clara asked with a smile. Ziva glanced at Gibbs, who nodded. When Clara had discovered that Ziva had gone nearly three months without a proper prenatal care visit, she had recommended Ziva be seen as soon as possible. Though she suspected Jethro would have accompanied her regardless, once they had been informed that the 3-month sonogram often allowed parents to hear a heartbeat Ziva knew there was no way he would not be there at her side. She was glad for it, honestly.
"Ready," Ziva responded. Clara gently pressed the wand against the pool of jelly, carefully spreading it across Ziva's skin by turning it this way and that, searching for something only she could recognize. Ziva fought to keep her hand relaxed in Gibbs'. With each passing moment, Ziva's expectation of bad news grew. So little has gone right in her life; how could this be any different?
"Oh! We have a confirmed sighting," Clara announced happily. She hummed for a few minutes, peering at the monitor with her tongue between her teeth. A few twists of the wand, and Clara grinned in victory. "Good news! The baby looks healthy and is developing normally." She pointed at the center of the screen. "See that? That's your baby!"
Jethro nodded as though he too could see the shape of an infant on the screen. Ziva made a mental note to get the truth of it later when they got home. All she saw was a shifting image of shadows on the screen; no baby to be seen, just shifting grains as Clara took several screen shots at different angles. "It's too early to know the sex yet," Clara continued, "but it's just about time for…" she fiddled with a knob on the monitor. "There."
At first Ziva heard nothing but static, but after a few moments she realized that the static rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Whuh whoosh, whuh whoosh: the unmistakable sound of a tiny, beating heart. Jethro's grip on Ziva's hand tightened suddenly. One glance at his face made Ziva's chest clench painfully. Tears glistened in his eyes, and a smile curled his lips. Over the years, Ziva had seen him with countless children, witnessed him earning their trust and putting their fears to rest. Today, however, for the first time she saw him as a father. She imagined this was how he must have looked a lifetime ago, holding Shannon's hand and hearing Kelly's heartbeat.
The jealousy that surged was dampened an instant later. They had never discussed Shannon and Kelly before, not his life with them or the memories he cherished. She could never bring herself to ask, and Jethro never offered it of his own volition. Ziva didn't begrudge his secrecy; there were memories of her own past she desperately clung to, and would keep close to her as long as she could. For all Ziva knew, Gibbs had never witnessed a sonogram before, nor heard the heartbeat of his unborn child. Perhaps he had been deployed, and had come home to meet his months-old daughter when his tour was ended. Regardless, his innocent reaction to the sound of his baby's heartbeat sparked an emotion in Ziva that was unfamiliar; as dark as jealousy but different, directed inward rather than towards the specters of Shannon and Kelly.
Before Ziva knew it, Clara had shut down the Doppler machine and given her a tissue to dry her stomach of the sticky gel that remained. The closing questions passed in a blink, and as Ziva slipped into her coat, a business card listing her next appointment in hand, she kept a pleasant smile plastered on her face. It wasn't until Gibbs dropped her off back at the house that the smile fell away. Her preoccupation with Jethro's reaction evaporated and in the moments that followed, the silence pressed in on her. She had paint swatches to compare for every room on the main level, and flooring websites to scour for the new kitchen Gibbs had assured he would help her build, but every single chore Ziva had laid out for herself that morning disappeared in an instant. Ziva sat on the sofa and breathed, reminding herself that the quiet was good; it was peaceful, calming. However, it could not eclipse the realization that she was alone with a baby whose heart beat inside her, and did nothing to disguise the fact she felt no connection to it at all.