Author's Note:
Content Warning: Labour & birth. (Healthy mom, healthy baby, good outcome.)
There are no graphic descriptions of body parts or the birthing process POV is largely from that of a 3rd party, who is not very comfortable with the situation and most of the words used reflect that, however smaller details in Ziva's behaviour or the midwife's words will imply certain things, and may still be confronting if you're able to read between the lines. Birth as an observer, even a G-rated one, can be very intimate and raw. Watching someone you care for make that journey is intense. This is just the labour process, the birth does not happen until the next chapter. Please only interact in a way that you're comfortable with.
As always, enjoy!
Chapter Fourteen - Take Care
"Abba?" Ziva's voice carried downstairs. Gibbs tossed a sheet over a larger object in the corner, hearing her footsteps track towards the basement. It was 10 pm, the day after Christmas and they'd just spent the day at work. It was also the middle of a record-breaking cold spell, he knew right away it wasn't a social call.
He glanced up as she appeared in the doorway, immediately recognising the unease on her face. "Baby, waistband carry," he offered in place of a greeting, gesturing at her stomach. She rewarded him with a small smile and half a laugh at how he called out her baby bump the way he would have her weapons. "Thought you hit the rack by 9 these days?"
She heaved a sigh, descending the stairs more slowly than usual, and turned slightly sideways to see where she placed each foot. "I cannot sleep," she frowned, discontent obvious in every feature. "Otherwise, yes. Tony rang to say goodnight a while ago and I have not been able to settle."
The very last step in the case that had consumed most of the previous two months had been a visit to Cameron Muir's hospital bed. Tony and McGee had left around 9 that morning and reported back a few hours later. A very groggy Cameron had been surprised to have federal agents visiting him, but said that Admiral Channing had found his flyer in a local grocery store notice board and hired him to drive "a Christmas gift" to Captain Walker's house for the cost of a full tank of gas and an extra $50. He barely remembered meeting at the gas station to collect the parcel, only certain that Channing had not let him touch the box and nothing from the crash itself. However, with everything he could add corroborating what they'd already learned, the case could officially be declared closed. The only problem now was the weather that had been steadily getting worse for the last week had peaked, leaving the roads unsafe outside of necessary travel and the men had been told to stay in Norfolk and drive back in daylight.
"Yeah, he called me too. Did you walk here?" Gibbs spotted her rosy cheeks as she removed her coat and hung it on the stair railing; the drive between the houses was too short for the heater in her car to have warmed her up that much; he could tell she'd been active. He'd seen her earlier that but as her jacket came off, he could notice the change in her posture, her belly hanging lower and heavy as she threw her shoulders back to counter the weight. She seemed bigger, too. The quick flash of her eyes in his direction showed precisely how she felt about any comments about this.
Ziva tossed her scarf over the railing, too. "It feels like she will never stop growing," she sighed, addressing the issue anyway. Even as she stood at the base of the stairs, she continued moving her feet in a steady march on the spot. "Yes, I walked. I am restless, the baby is restless. She has been kicking all day. I am surprised you did not notice. I felt like I could not sit still at my desk."
Of course, he'd noticed, but there were some things a boss didn't mention in public, even if he doubled as an honorary father figure. His almost-former employee's pregnancy woes were one of them. "Ziver..." he said with gentle reproach. "It can't be more'n 25 degrees out there."
Her chin lifted defiantly. "It is 28.2," she informed him. "And it is only three blocks."
"It's icy." He gave her a reproving look. "Could've fallen."
"I am pregnant, not broken, Abba. You are starting to sound like someone's Savta," Ziva replied in a chiding tone before adding a translation. "Grandmother. I just needed to walk, and then I was here. I think I wanted company."
He decided he didn't want to know how many laps she'd done before she'd let herself in. "Call next time," he instructed instead and pointed to the cell phone on the corner of the bench. "I would've come."
She shrugged and pressed her hands to the small of her back as she continued the left-right stepping. "I am here now."
"Do you want to sit?" he offered, reaching for the stool. "Or go lay down upstairs? Guest bed's clean. You can stay if you don't want to be in an empty house."
She looked at the high wooden seat for a second and shook her head with a wince. "No, I cannot sit right now. Can I just watch you for a while?" She gestured to the woodwork on the bench.
"Sure." He turned back to his work.
"Thank you." They fell silent for a while, Ziva eventually moving to lap the basement steadily.
"Gonna wear a hole in my floor," Gibbs commented after she'd paced for half an hour. "You ok?"
She offered a nondescript hum, the closest to a negative answer she'd allow. "I miss Tony. I think our little stowaway does, too. She is used to hearing his voice at night; it calms her." Ziva rubbed her hands slowly down the convex of her belly and blew out a deep breath. Gibbs placed his tools down and crossed the floor to her. "It calms me," she added as an afterthought.
"C'mere." She stepped into his offered hug. "Getting harder to do this," he chuckled as Ziva automatically rotated sideways to make room for the bump.
"And she could grow yet more before she is born," Ziva sighed, wincing. "Please motek, be still."
"The kid tap dancing in there?" The baby thumped again, an impact he felt where her stomach leaned against the side of his ribs.
Ziva gave a dry laugh. "That, or she is training to be a wrestler. Let me show you." She led his touch to the side of her belly where a small lump rolled beneath his palm, and then to the front to find an almost sharp point that receded quickly at his touch. "That is an arm or possibly her hand, those are knees, and those are her feet," she finished, guiding him to the top of the bump and said feet pushed hard upwards into his hand.
"Hey, be nice to your Ima," he growled softly, receiving another kick in response. "What're you gonna do if it's a boy after all this?"
"She will not be," Ziva replied firmly. Gibbs' amused chuckle at her self-confidence was cut off as she inhaled sharply and held her breath, her fingers squeezing over his own, and her belly tightened beneath his hand, the weight shifting against his side. The tension eased about ten seconds later when she resumed her normal breathing pattern and released his hand, smoothing her hand down the side of her stomach again. "Ahava, please, I am exhausted," Ziva sighed to the baby and still standing close, she let her forehead wilt onto his shoulder.
He let her lean on him for a moment before turning her towards the door gently. "Upstairs, Ziver. Rest." His tone brooked no arguments and she trudged up the stairs ahead of him as he scooped her coat off the railing. "Park it." Gibbs pointed to the couch and flung her outerwear on the armchair, then knelt to add another log to the fireplace.
Ziva eyed the worn couch with doubt, in the last few months she'd clearly preferred the armchair. "I will not be getting up from here without help," she warned, lowering herself onto the sagging cushions slowly.
"I'll cope. Feet up, stretch out." He tossed a couple of pillows in her direction. Slowly she lifted one foot to the opposite knee to reach the zip on the inside of her boot. "I got it." He put himself in front of her and took over. He smirked at the snowman pattern on her socks but refrained from commenting. Instead, he put the boots to one side and sat down on the far end of the couch.
"I have to lay on my side," she explained as she hauled her feet onto the cushions, keeping her legs curled on the empty space he wasn't sitting on and tucked one of the pillows beneath her belly, the other beneath her head. "My back is sore."
"Walking in the cold isn't going to cure that," he snorted, as he shifted closer, pulling her feet onto his lap and tugging off her right sock. Ziva shot him a curious glance, and he worked his thumbs under her arch in answer.
"You do not have to..." Her protest faded in a quiet sigh as he kneaded the ball of her foot. "Oh, okay." Her toes curled against his fingers and her eyes closed. He smirked, grateful, perhaps for the first time, that his former marriages had taught him something useful; the power of a foot massage on an overtired, anxious woman.
"Take a breather, kiddo." By the time Gibbs replaced her sock and moved onto the other side, Ziva was quiet, not asleep, but relaxed at least. However, her eyes opened when her breath caught again, her hand drifting down to her belly with a whispered admonishment to the baby. When it repeated once more, just as he'd finished working over her left foot, he leaned over and lay a hand on her, noticing the same tightening he'd felt earlier.
He slid her feet to the floor gently when she relaxed and pulled her upright. She let him hold her boots to push her feet in without an argument and offered his hands to bring her to standing."Think I'm gonna take you home, Ziver," he warned, thoughtfully.
Ziva turned her head sharply, obviously reacting to his tone. "Abba?" She questioned, holding her arms out as he slid her coat back on. "What is it?"
"Gut says we're better off there. Let's go."
Gibbs lit the fire when they returned to Casa De Tiva while Ziva, apparently renewed from her half-hour break on the couch, trailed in and out of various rooms, made a tea she did not drink and paced up and down the stairs several times. He shadowed her quietly, watching as she unfolded and refolded an array of baby blankets, brushed her hair and then made and ignored a second cup of tea. She washed a handful of dishes, rearranged the throw cushions twice before putting them back as they had been, wandered down to the basement, made up the fold-out bed in an unspoken request that he stay the night, completed a few laps of that space, used her ballet barre to support a low squat for five silent minutes and finally came back upstairs. Every now and again she'd pause with that same catch in her breath from earlier, shifting her weight from foot to foot. When she started to run a bath, he went back downstairs to give her privacy, but before long he heard the taps shut off and her footsteps descending the stairs again, still fully dressed. He watched as she lapped the piano twice before halting with another sharp inhale, leaning forward on the shiny surface with her elbows. This one seemed to take 20 seconds or so before she resumed her normal breathing pattern.
"So are you going to call this, or do I have to?" he asked, now convinced of what he had suspected earlier.
"Call what?" she returned, blowing out a harder breath than before. He didn't answer, only raised an eyebrow at her posture, still rocking from side to side. She caught on quickly and shook her head firmly. "No, I am only just 37 weeks. It's the very earliest she could be born. I am just uncomfortable." Her hands went to the small of her back, and he could tell she was rubbing away the ache. "She will be born on her due date, as I was."
"You've been doing that stop-and-hold-your-breath thing every quarter hour since you showed up," he reasoned. Three times that he'd noticed at his place, and regularly in the 90 minutes since their return. She didn't respond, pacing around the dining table half a dozen times, did a tour of the kitchen and came back to the lounge. "Getting longer too. That looks like something's happening to me."
Ziva kept up the side-to-side stepping. "She cannot come tonight, Tony is in Norfolk," she argued. "We have not yet chosen a bassinet for our bedroom, we were supposed to do that tomorrow. I still have four more days at work before my leave begins."
"Don't think babies follow their parents' schedules." He shrugged. "Look, lemme take you to get checked out. You booked at Bethesda?"
"No, I am giving birth here." Ziva shook her head. "Next year," she added with a hint of defiance.
This was news to Gibbs, although admittedly, he'd stayed well clear of baby plans that did not directly affect Ziva and Tony's working hours. "Better than a gas station... or a warehouse," he decided with another shrug. "Humour me then, what's the plan for when she shows up?"
Ziva sighed. "I have a midwife who will attend, and Abby will come too, for support. I am to call them both when I think it is time," she sighed and ran her hands through her hair impatiently. "Which I do not. Would you please stop fussing?"
"You should touch base with her," Gibbs instructed, he found her cell phone on the coffee table and tossed it at her. "Don't fancy a repeat of last Christmas."
Ziva snorted and pocketed her phone. "You left me with Hannah and Naomi Abrams two years earlier and you would have had me play midwife for Lieutenant Reynolds as well if she had not asked for you."
"Can't blame me for trying," Gibbs chuckled, following Ziva up the stairs again. After more laps, she headed into the master bedroom, stripped the bed and then had what appeared to be a fierce internal argument with herself before seeking out a plastic-backed mattress protector and putting that on before remaking the bed with fresh linen. She threw Tony's socks from the floor into the laundry basket, a laborious proceeding, hampered by the fact that she refused his help to straighten up from kneeling before she wandered back into the hall. A lap of the baby's nursery, where she paused at the crib and lifted a plush dog to her face, rubbing her cheek against the velvety fabric. "Call her," he repeated.
"Do you really think I would not know when I am in labour?" she challenged, dropping the toy back in the crib.
"Took you how long to know she was there at all?" he shot back. Her eyes darkened with what was obviously a very uncharitable thought regarding his well-being crossing her mind. He gave a wry smirk, it figured that probably-in-labour Ziva would be just as difficult to reason with as agent-on-a-mission Ziva.
"She has been doing this to me all afternoon, since midday. It is just false labour," Ziva glowered, turning her back on him.
He checked his watch, midnight now, and did the maths. "You've been having contractions for 12 hours?" Gibbs questioned incredulously, her visible discomfort at work suddenly clicked into place. "You spent 5 of 'em right under my nose and you didn't think to mention this?"
"Well, you did not notice so they could not have been that serious." He snorted in response and she turned to face him again, impatient and cross. "Gibbs! They are called Braxton-Hicks, it is like a warm u..." She seized the rail on the crib suddenly, her face becoming intent and focused as she breathed deeply. Gibbs glanced at his watch; he didn't need to have a medical degree to work it out, probably-in-labour was definitely-in-labour. A second later her concentration turned to alarm and she gasped, heading for the door.
"What now?" She brushed past him, crossed the hall to the main bathroom and slammed the door.
"No, no, no! Not now." Her voice was muffled through the door, but the borderline panic was still audible. "Oh no baby, not now, please."
"Dammit, Ziva talk to me!" He could hear her pacing in the room, still muttering anxiously to herself. He waited another few minutes, giving her a chance to recentre herself and give him some useful information. He realised she was too far in her own head to pay attention. "Agent David, you have 30 seconds to respond before I come in there myself. I put that lock in for you, can I break it if I got to." He had no intention of going in there unless things sounded worse, but the direct order was enough to snap her into replying.
The pacing stopped and he heard the lock click open again. She cracked the door enough to meet his eyes. "Are you happy now? You were right," she snapped.
He narrowed his eyes at the sharp tone. Defensive Ziva very rarely translated to good news. "Gut never lies, kiddo..." he began cautiously, only to have her cut him off with another verbal jab.
"Well for once, that damn gut of yours needs to be wrong! My water just broke... at least I think..." She paused with the onset of a new contraction and her fingers tightened around the edge of the door. She shifted her weight with a grimace, each foot landing with a soft noise that suggested the tiles underneath them were wet. "Never mind, I am sure."
"You're having the baby now?" he asked warily, remembering how quickly things had escalated with Emma Reynolds.
"Not now, but today." She turned and rested her forehead against the door jamb. "Today... I am not ready for this."
"Okay, take a breath," he instructed, doing the same himself. "What did you just tell me was the plan when things got moving?"
She answered while still leaning against the frame. "Call Marlee. First I need to..." She faded off and shook her head, changing the subject. "Can you go downstairs for a while, please? I will call her as soon as I am done here." She glanced down, and although she'd managed to keep the rest of her body behind the door, the message was clear enough.
He pointed in the direction of the pocket where she'd stuffed her phone, glad to be excused. "Make the damn call. I need coffee."
Ziva reappeared at the bottom of the stairs in fresh clothes about twenty minutes later, "What'd the nurse say?" Gibbs asked, looking up from his drink, not really needing to be told; the expression she wore, somewhere between dissatisfied and anxious said enough.
"The baby is coming. It is still early in the process." Her voice tightened along with the expression on her face. "She said that I should call Abby and Tony. It may be some time, but we should be ready all the same."
"So she's coming too, then... your nurse?"
Ziva shook her head, face deep in thought, obviously trying to talk through a new contraction. "She has the flu and will be sending a backup midwife. Tony and Marlee were both supposed to be here!" She held her belly and her forehead creased again.
He came to her, put a hand on the side of her face, and waited until she softened some. "Keep it together, Ziver. You allowed to have a bath?" She nodded slowly in response. He paused till she met his gaze, hoping it was as steady as his voice. "You're gonna go finish filling the tub. I'll call the others for you."
"Abba..." Ziva began anxiously. She rubbed her lower back again with a frown. "I cannot do this."
He swallowed the urge to point out she didn't have a lot of choice in the matter and instead settled for a soft, "Yes, you can." He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "We're gonna get the guys here, they could drive back from Norfolk in their sleep. Even if they have to go slow, you have plenty of time. You got this."
Ziva caught his wrist as he let go. "Will you stay with me if Tony does not make it?" she asked quietly.
"You've got Abs coming, dunno that I'll be much help." He shrugged. "I'll hang around till she gets here."
"Abba... please..." She dropped her eyes to the floor, but her grip tightened. "This is scary."
He gentled his tone further. "Since when are you scared of anything?"
"Since I have never done this before. Since Tony is not here. Since my daughter depends on me to get here safely. Since..." Her breath hitched an emotional response this time, not a contraction. "Please," she finished again.
He sighed, deeply. Of course, he couldn't say no to her, but of all the ways he'd imagined spending the night after Christmas, this was not it. "Breathe, Ziva. You're gonna do fine. I'll stay... just don't ask me to catch," he choked on an uncomfortable laugh. "Go have a soak. Use that smelly stuff Abs gave you for your birthday." He pulled out his phone as she slowly retreated up the stairs.
"Gibbs? It's almost 1 am." The pout was audible in Abby's voice. He smirked, those first 30 seconds of consciousness were always rough.
"Grab your gear." Hopefully, that would be enough to get Abby to switch on properly.
"What?" She yawned. "I don't have gear, Gibbs."
He heard the taps start upstairs again. "Need you at Ziva's. Baby's coming."
There was a gasp on the other end of the line as Abby woke up all at once and gave him just enough warning to hold the phone away from his ear. "How sure are we? Have her waters broken? How often are the contractions? Has there been a bloody show?" She rattled off several more entirely too detailed questions to which he did not know, or particularly want to know, the answer.
"Abs!" He cut in sharply as she said something about the baby's head. "If it was that close I wouldn't be calling you."
"Oh right, early labour. We can handle that. How's she doing?"
"Argued with me. Told her to go have a bath. Midwife's coming."
"I'm on the way, bags, Caf-Pow! and I'm there. Just let her do whatever she feels like she needs to till then."
"'Sif she'd do anything else," Gibbs snorted, ending the call and dialling Tony.
"Boss, c'mon. We told you. The roads are a nightmare." Tony grumbled sleepily without a greeting. "Believe me, if I had a choice about sharing a room with McGrinds His Teeth In His Sleep..."
Gibbs rolled his eyes and interrupted when Tony paused for breath. "Head back now, you're needed here ASAP." How anyone in his team had the energy for a monologue at this time of the morning was beyond his understanding.
"What's wrong? Hey, Sleeping Beauty, we gotta get back now." There was a thud and a yelp, Tony had presumably thrown something at his sleeping roommate.
"Ziva's in labour." Gibbs decided to ignore the curse on the other end of the line.
"You serious?" Another faint yelp, evidently a second object had been thrown.
"Wouldn't joke about this DiNozzo. I'm with her now, Abs and the midwife are on the way." A cry of pain from Tony this time, it sounded like McGee had decent aim despite being jolted from the depths of sleep.
"McGee, gimme the other shoe back no - ow! I said give! Baby's coming, we gotta go. Yeah, I know it's early! You think I woulda been out here if I had any idea Zi was gonna do this tonight? What? No, I don't know, do I? I'm not there, I'm here!" Tony's voice quickly spiralled into an overexcited babble.
"Hey DiNozzo..." he called down the line, trying to get Tony's attention again. There was some squabbling and the sounds of a scuffle.
"Boss, hi, it's McGee," the muffled noises behind Tim's sleep-addled voice suggested he was sitting on Tony. "Ziva's really in labour?" He didn't bother with an actual answer but simply oriented himself toward Norfolk and glared silently. "Right, sorry. We'll leave as soon as we've got our stuff together. Tony's a bit... overwhelmed. But I've got it from here." More garbled conversation. "No, I'm not going to ask Gibbs that. Ouch! Ugh, fine... How far apart are Ziva's contractions?"
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Not a midwife McGee, but it's no false alarm. You've got the lead. Get him back here."
"Will do Boss, and can you uh..." A pause and a grunt. "Tell him that please?"
Tony began rambling again the second he was back in possession of the phone. "Boss, we're gonna get out of here as soon as we..."
"DiNozzo! Breathe!" he ordered firmly, but quietly enough that Ziva wouldn't hear him upstairs. "Got enough on my hands at this end without you having a breakdown over there. Ziva's fine, the nurse is coming, and Abby's leaving her place now."
"Oh god... this is really happening isn't it?" A sudden thud and a scuffle. "Dropped the phone. Kinda hard to put pants on with one hand. Look, we're coming okay? Can you tell Ziva that? That I'm on my way. Will you stay till I get there, just... look after her?"
"Yeah, I'll be here," he promised. "Hey... this isn't like your movies. Babies don't just fall out. You got plenty of time. And listen, DiNozzo - it's McGee's lead. You do as he says."
The direct order seemed to help more than the intentionally reassuring reassuring first half and Tony inhaled deeply, talking slower. "Roger that. Can I talk to Ziva?" The echo on the line told Gibbs he was on speaker phone now, he could hear McGee talking to someone else in the background.
"She's in the tub, hold on." He climbed the stairs and knocked on the bathroom door. "You decent in there Ziva?"
"No." She sounded calmer. "What is it?"
"Tony wants a word." He called through the door. "Wanna hop out and take the call?"
There was a quiet scoff through the closed door. "You do not just 'hop' out of a bathtub when you are this pregnant." Her tone was dry and unamused, but not cranky. "I will cover with a towel... Just try not to look and bring the phone in. I did not lock it."
"Boss? What's going on?" Tony's voice came through the phone again.
"Taking the phone to her now, keep your hair on, DiNozzo." He rolled his eyes, and entered the bathroom sideways, holding the phone at arm's length and keeping his face turned towards the door. Ziva's fingers brushed his own, and he relinquished the phone.
"Hello, neshama..." He waited with his back turned, tuning out her conversation, and staring at the oil diffuser - the "smelly stuff" he'd mentioned wafting lavender in the air until Ziva nudged his arm again. "Thank you."
"Abby's on the way. Need anything?" He stretched his hand back, waiting until she dropped the phone into his palm. She hummed steadily for a few seconds, blowing out a long breath before answering.
"I will be fine up here for a while. I will call out if I need you." He heard the water swish as she shifted. "You may as well sleep while you can. Go downstairs and have a bat nap."
"Cat nap, Ziver," Gibbs chuckled. All the same, he didn't think it was such a bad idea, it looked like it was going to be a long night.
The "cat nap" turned out to be almost an hour, he'd heard Abby arrive, but she'd whispered she had it under control and left him on the couch. When he woke, he poured another coffee and went upstairs in search of Ziva. The main bathroom was empty, but he could hear something from the master suite and headed down the hall, knocking on the door softly.
"Come in, it's safe," Abby's voice was low from inside the room. Gibbs opened the door, spotting them both on the bed; Ziva lay on her side, wound around her body pillow, apparently dozing. Abby sat behind her, holding a heating pad against Ziva's lower back, while something quiet and soothing played softly in the background and a scented candle burned on the dresser.
"Got here about 20 minutes ago," Abby explained softly. She was obviously excited, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed, but kept her voice low. "Zivvie was pacing around in the basement when I got here, but now we're having some zen time till it really kicks off. It's baby day for sure though. Heard from the guys when they headed out too, Tim called in a favour with someone and borrowed a truck, something with all-wheel drive to cope with the ice. Tony was trying to tell me about it, but he's not making a lot of sense. I told Timmy he's the designated driver, even if he's gotta cuff Tony and put him in the tray to make it work."
"Good." He nodded. "ETA?"
"The traffic is clear but the roads are bad." Abby shrugged, leaning forward to rest her head on Ziva, murmuring something reassuring to her. "Thinking 5.30 at the earliest," she added, pressing a kiss to Ziva's shoulder as she straightened up again.
"Need anything?" he asked, Abby seemed to have the situation well in hand now, and with Ziva almost asleep, taking care of her seemed a lot easier than it had when he'd first been asked.
"You can get downstairs ready for the main event," Abby instructed. "It was going to be Tony's job in this early part. Everything you need is in the garage. Birth pool, electric pump to inflate it, drop sheets, the works. The coffee table goes against the wall under the TV, and then the pool goes in the middle of the room. Keep the fire steady but not too hot. There's a plan in my bag for how it all goes." She jerked her head towards the foot of the bed.
He unzipped the bag, it was stuffed full of miscellaneous items. A pack of hair elastics and a hand fan were obvious in their intent, but what appeared to be a sock full of marbles was less so. Fortunately, the folder in Abby's handwriting labelled 'Baby Tiva' was sitting on top. "Considering a change of career?" he joked lightly, flicked through for a moment and decided quickly to stick to the front page with a schematic for the living room.
"I've done so much research about the kind of birth Ziva wants Gibbs! It's fascinating!" She perked up, momentarily, dropping her voice again when Ziva startled slightly. "You know I couldn't give up working with my lab babies. But for this baby... well I couldn't do only half a job could I?"
"Mmm-hmm," Ziva agreed vaguely. She was wearing some kind of stretchy tank top and leggings, and the whole time Abby had been softly dragging her fingernails along her back with the hand that wasn't holding the heat pack. It seemed to have a hypnotic effect, he didn't think he'd ever seen her look more deeply relaxed. Even when she curled around herself a second later with her muscles tensed, she hardly seemed to wake.
"Blow it out," Abby encouraged quietly. Ziva obeyed with a noisy exhale, drifting off again quickly. " What are you waiting for Gibbs? We got this."
Under orders now, Gibbs went back downstairs. Thankfully, Abby's instructions were excellent and combined with Ziva's organisational skills in laying everything out in a logical order it didn't take long for him to find and set up everything according to the plan while wondering idly if he was setting up for a baby's birth or a summer cookout. He was just finishing stringing the requested fairy lights around the room when there was a knock at the door.
"Agent Gibbs, fancy seeing you here!" A smiling blonde woman he knew he'd met but couldn't immediately place, stood on the doorstep. "Hannah Abrams, you and your team found me in that warehouse two years ago? Oh, and Ziva delivered my daughter? I'm Marlee's replacement midwife." She'd looked a lot worse for wear the last time he'd seen her but with the memory in place, he remembered much more clearly.
He stepped back, holding the door wider to let her in. "Come in, Hannah."
"Help me with my gear." She nodded at the car. He obliged, carrying in the bags and placing them where Hannah requested. "Looks like you've been busy." She glanced around the room.
"Yeah, Ziva's upstairs." He gestured to the stairwell. "Head on up, bedroom's right at the end of the hall."
"Wait, Ziva's the one in labour?" Hannah reached into a bag and flipped the file open. "I haven't had a chance to read more than the address, I only picked up the file from Marlee 20 minutes ago. I don't usually cover for her, but her backup is down with the same flu, and this weather... well I can't read and drive like I normally would." Her face brightened reading the names on the file.
"That's the one."
"And Tony isn't...?" Her smile widened.
"Great-Aunt Antonia, yes," Gibbs chuckled. "Him and McGee are driving back from the Norfolk Navy Yard now."
"McGee too, this is a whole team event then?" Hannah busied herself unpacking her bag and slung a stethoscope around her neck. "How does this all fit together? Don't know many bosses who'd show up at their employee's labour."
"Yeah," Gibbs acknowledged. "Tony and Ziva were dating when we met you and got married this September. Then McGee got engaged to our forensic scientist, she's upstairs with Ziva."
"I knew there was more to it when I met them, a connection like theirs doesn't come just from working together. And that makes you..." Hannah prompted.
"The one who got roped in," he shrugged, heading to the kitchen. "Coffee?"
"Tea if you have it, milk, no sugar," Hannah said as she sat at the dining table, spreading Ziva's notes out in front of her. "So give me your version of what's been going on, and then I'll go up and check in with Ziva."
"She was edgy at work today. Shifting in her chair, distracted. Didn't say a word. Then she showed up at my place about 10, seemed kind of restless, wouldn't stay still," he explained putting her drink down in front of her. "Realised something was up a little while later and brought her home. Said she'd been having contractions since midday. Thought they were... uhh, Braxton... the fake ones?"
Hannah nodded encouragingly, "Braxton-Hicks, false labour. Has she said anything about the contractions? Or looked like she was in pain?" She continued flipping through the notes, murmuring to herself. "37 weeks yesterday. Blood tests have been perfect. Ahh... baby was sunny side up at the last checkup."
"Didn't seem to notice she had 'em at first, just kind of held her breath for a second. Wouldn't admit anything was happening till her waters broke. That was midnight." He'd moved back to the lounge, finishing with the string lights as he talked. "No idea how much it's actually hurting her... I've seen her take a bullet without flinching. Looked like she was almost asleep half an hour ago."
Hannah closed the files and picked up her bag. "Okay, that all sounds right on track for first-time labour. Well, let's go find out what she's up to now. Lead the way, Gibbs."
When they made it back upstairs, Ziva had curled around herself again, Abby still rubbing Ziva's back and encouraging her quietly. "Yep, that's the real deal," Hannah murmured behind him, taking one look at the scene.
"Hey, Ziver," Gibbs said when things seemed to have passed. "Got a surprise for you."
"Is it Tony?" she mumbled around the straw from the drink bottle Abby held in front of her.
Hannah moved around to Ziva's line of sight. "Not quite, Ziva. Marlee sent me, I'm Hannah Abrams, your midwife tonight." She sat gently on the bed, laying a hand on Ziva's knee. Gibbs saw the tension fall away from Ziva's body at the simple gesture. "Do you remember me?"
"Hannah!" Ziva brightened. "I did not expect you. Marlee never mentioned who she was sending. How is Naomi?"
"Feisty, two going on twenty." Hannah rolled her eyes. "Let's focus on you. How are things going?"
Ziva heaved a sigh and ran a hand down her belly. "My waters broke a little while ago, and things are getting stronger," she admitted. "I don't know how often, I have not been watching the clock, Abby?"
"8 to 10 minutes. About 30 seconds long," she supplied. "Abby Scuito, forensic scientist, honorary aunty and birth support."
"Nice to meet you," Hannah smiled. They shook hands over the bulk of Ziva's body. "Ziva, how about we get you on your back and I'll see what the baby is up to?" The manoeuvre was slow and was completed with much coaxing and reassurance from Abby and the plastic undersheet crinkled as she moved.
"I do not like lying like this," she complained when she was in situ. "My back is sore."
Hannah nodded sympathetically. "Baby's in the posterior position, they're laying with their spine along yours. It's not a bad thing, but it can make everything more uncomfortable and take a bit longer," she explained. Gibbs watched quietly as Hannah's hands moved over Ziva's belly. "It would explain your back pain too. We can try and convince them to turn while you're in labour, but some babies are just stubborn."
"If she's anything like her father..." Ziva muttered.
"You're having a girl?" Hannah queried happily.
"We did not find out officially but..." Ziva trailed off. Hannah moved on, listening to the baby's heartbeat, the whooshing sound filling the room and bringing a smile to Ziva's face.
"You know anyway. I understand." Hannah nodded wisely. "Agent Gibbs, you might want to step out for the next bit." Her facial expression suggested it was more than 'might', and he got the picture.
"You okay without me for half an hour, kiddo?" He waited for Ziva's nod, before beckoning Abby closer. "It's all set up downstairs. Gonna run home, just got a deadline moved up by three weeks."
Abby read between the lines easily and grinned. "Say no more." She winked conspiratorially, shooing him out the door. "I've got it covered here. Bring back Caf-Pow!"
When Gibbs returned, setting two Jumbo Caf-Pow cups on the entryway table, Ziva was complaining as she trudged down the staircase and Abby, walking alongside kept up a steady stream of encouragement. Meanwhile, Hannah was propped on a gym ball, making notes in the files she'd brought, and Ziva was wearing a different coloured pair of leggings to the ones he'd seen earlier.
"Abba!" Ziva sighed with relief and stretched for his hands, as she reached the lower landing, leaning heavily on him, a fine sheen of sweat now covering her shoulders. "If you disappear again, as soon as I am done having this baby, I will put laxatives in your coffee. To hell with Rule 23," she promised softly. Despite, or perhaps because of, the threat she seemed perfectly calm and in control.
"I'd like to see you try," he murmured with a chuckle. "Sitrep?"
"I am fine." Whether it was the bath, the nap, or having Hannah and Abby for company, he didn't know, but whatever it was had helped, she was much more like her usual confident self. "It is nothing I cannot handle."
"Told ya so." He smirked. "Still want me?"
She nodded, relieved. "Please. Till Tony gets back."
"All systems go, we've just been doing some stair climbing to try and get the baby to turn over." Hannah supplied, joining the little entryway party.
"'We' my ass," Ziva grumbled. "You and Abby get to take turns. I am the one doing all the laps."
Hannah smirked, completely untroubled by Ziva's moody complaint. "You're doing fine. Don't think I've seen a first-time mama handle things so well as you, Ziva."
"Ziva's gonna be Ima," Gibbs explained as her hands tightened on his and her face grew thoughtful. Hannah glanced at her watch and gave him a 'shh' with one finger lightly over her lips.
"Ima. Got it, Hebrew," Hannah picked up talking as Ziva relaxed again. "It's all coming along just fine. Abby has been amazing, it's like she can read Ziva's every breath. I've hardly had to do anything so far." She glanced over at the woman in question, who'd retrieved the drinks, stashing one in the fridge, and settling on the lower steps with the other.
"Hey Abs, heard from the guys?" Ziva pushed off him with a sigh, glared at the stairs as though they'd personally insulted her, and set off on a circuitous walk around the living room.
"Tony rang again. Roads are bad, and it's slowed them down a bit. I tried to tell him to sleep some, but he won't." She took a long pull on the straw. "He's making sense now at least, but he mentioned something about Ziva crossing her legs right in the middle of a contraction. Let's just say that she did not appreciate the suggestion."
"I told him to try tying a part of his body in a knot first." The response came from the arch into the lounge, where she was leaning on her forearms, and rocking her hips from side to side. "He had me on speaker, McGee may take some time to recover from that," her laugh faded into silence, and more controlled breathing.
Gibbs winced at the mental image. "He's not the only one."
"She was very descriptive. It was the most beautiful, yet profane thing I have ever heard, and that's saying something." Abby smirked, resting her cup between her feet and signing a completely different message as she spoke. "Long time to baby."
"Stop signing Abby. I know I have a long wait." Ziva called out. "You do not have to pretend."
Guilt and amusement flashed across Abby's face. "How? You don't know sign." She scooped her cup up, and sipped again, "And you weren't even looking at me!"
"I am not stupid," she huffed. "I could hear you put your drink down."
"Whatcha doing kid?" He followed her into the lounge again to poke the fire. Ziva was now sitting cross-legged on the floor going through the board games on the built-in shelf below the coffee table.
"I am sick of walking. We are going to play Scrabble to pass the time instead. Ugh! Help." She held the arm that was not clutched around the box in the air. With a soft chuckle, Gibbs hooked his arms under hers from behind, hauling her back to her feet. "Thank you. Who is playing?" Once upright again, she recovered quickly, moving to the dining table and opening the box.
"Okay, Scrabble it is." Hannah laughed. "Normally I would leave, try to give the parents some time alone, just let things happen quietly and come back when it all picks up. But given the situation, I figure you could use another familiar face, so count me in. In case you didn't already get the picture, Gibbs, the only answer when Ziva says she wants something is 'yes' right now."
He gave a dry snort. "She doesn't take no for an answer anyway. English, Ziver," he reminded her.
"When you are the one in labour, you may make the rules," Ziva said serenely, seating herself on the large grey gym ball Abby rolled over and began unfolding the board.
Abby, Hannah, and Gibbs placed themselves around the table and played, chatting about nothing in particular, but definitely not what was actually going on. Ziva went quiet at regular intervals, but otherwise showed no outward signs of discomfort, focusing instead on the game. She beat them all soundly in the first round but she was obviously just tired and distracted enough that she did not try to play words in anything besides English. Hannah seamlessly flowed between opponent and midwife, tipping her hand subtly to look at her watch each time Ziva went quiet, or occasionally checking the baby's heartbeat while Ziva was sidetracked with her letters. Abby rotated the heat packs on Ziva's back when they got cold and refilled Gibbs' coffee and Ziva's water bottle without being asked.
Sometime during the second round, the marble-filled socks (it turned out there were two) made an appearance; ending up on the floor and Ziva rolled her feet across them as she played. Not long after, she began to grip the edge of the table each time she went quiet, her knuckles white with the tension. The next time, Gibbs simply laid his own hand palm up on the table between them, a silent offering that she accepted without turning her head from her tiles. The rest of the game continued in that fashion, Ziva reaching for his hand with each contraction, but still quiet and centred. That worked until Hannah found a way to get a last-minute triple word score including the letter Z. Ziva declared her disgust for Scrabble at that point, and after a bathroom break and a brief discussion of symptoms that Gibbs steadfastly tuned out, she decided Clue was next on the agenda.
This game was always more interesting among Team Gibbs; he did not like the game at all, Ziva usually had a suggestion about what objects in the murder room could have been used for defence, while Abby bemoaned the lack of forensics. If the guys were present, the game reached a whole new level; Tony invariably accused Mrs Peacock first claiming, "It's always the wife", Tim's head for logic and quick wins usually ended with an accusation of cheating from Tony, Ducky derailed gameplay recounting a memory and Jimmy insisted on wearing a deerstalker. This time, however, they played it straight, and the game went on smoothly, Ziva continuing to grip Gibbs' upturned hand, her face gradually moving from thoughtful to irritated as the space between each one decreased and the length of time she held on for increased. Eventually, she stopped letting go in between, only tightening her grip when she needed to, gradually lengthening her squeezes to a full sixty seconds. About the time Abby decided it was Professor Plum in the library with the rope, Ziva emphasised her frustration, her hold tightening, and lifting their joined hands to bang the table a couple of times before she relaxed again.
"Sorry, Abba," she murmured, realising what she had done, and pulled her hand away to rub the heels of her palms down her thighs hard, looking embarrassed. She shook her head as though trying to clear her thoughts, "I do not think I can play anymore."
"We're going to head upstairs I think Ziva, time to check in," Hannah said gently. "Been a while since the last time." Somehow two hours had passed, playing board games as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
"No." Ziva shook her head again. "Not now." She stood, shoved the board away roughly and headed towards the kitchen.
"Want company?" Hannah called after her, receiving a negative grunt in response as Ziva leaned hard on the kitchen counter, her knees bowing and letting go of a low cry of pain, obviously contracting again. "Okay, it's like that now, huh?" Hannah murmured more to herself than to anyone else.
"Like what?" Gibbs asked, watching as Ziva pushed herself off the counter again and made for the basement door.
"Abby, can you follow Ziva at a distance, just keep an eye on her?" Hannah instructed. "Time we had a talk, Gibbs."
"On it." Abby hopped up immediately and followed in Ziva's wake as she trailed down the stairs.
While Gibbs collected the scattered game pieces, Hannah poured them both a new drink and set it firmly on the counter, an invitation to join her in the kitchen. "Right, she's getting into the hard yards now. This first bit was easy, but we're going to be dealing with big hormones, big contractions, and big feelings. If you were planning to back out at any point, this is probably it."
He shrugged uncomfortably. "Promised her I'd stay till Tony shows."
Hannah sipped from her mug, considering this statement. "Okay then. Fair warning, she's going to get angry with us. Some mamas go quiet, others cry, some shout. When you've done this as long as I have, you can read women after a while, and she's not going to take this next bit quietly. Just know that she doesn't mean it."
Gibbs paused, confused. "Mean what?" he asked.
"Oh," she chuckled, puffing a strand of hair out of her face. "Pretty much anything awful that comes out of her mouth. She will probably feel very out of control and resent that."
"Right." He swigged the coffee deeply. "How long?"
Hannah shrugged and cast her eyes upwards as though seeking divine knowledge, "How long is a piece of string? That all depends on Ziva and the baby. But we're getting closer to the pointy end. Seen a birth before?"
He nodded, "Yeah, caught a case and a baby last Christmas Eve."
Hannah chuckled, "What is it with your team playing at being midwives? At least you know what you're in for." She looked him over, then sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ok, Mr. Strong and Silent, what is it?"
"Ziver, she's..." he trailed off, not having words to describe the situation, at least not that he'd admit aloud.
"She's your little girl... or as good as. You're squeamish about what happens if we get there before you're off duty." Hannah's gaze would not let him deny it and he nodded. "Ziva came to you tonight because she trusts you and asked you to stay, knowing what might happen while you're here. She knew she needed someone earlier, even if she didn't know why and she chose you. She won't thank you for acting like it's embarrassing, but she will thank you for being here when she needed you." Hannah gentled her tone. "Silent is fine, but make sure the strong sticks around. Speaking of silent, your phone should be too." He fished it out of his pocket with a shrug and handed it to her to fix. "Afraid of technology too, I see," she chuckled, flipping it open, hitting the necessary buttons and returning the device.
"You'd have made a pretty good investigator," he commented dryly.
"I know enough Hebrew to understand that she calls you Dad, not to mention the way you got the hell outta Dodge when Naomi was coming." She reached across and patted his hand. "You stick with me, and if we get that far along, I'll make sure you're at Ziva's head."
Gibbs exhaled loudly and ran a hand through his hair. "So what do we do in the meantime?"
"Have you ever been fishing?" She waited for his well-duh expression. "Just like that. We watch, wait, and we stay calm so we don't scare the fish."
"Watch and wait I can do." He nodded shortly. "But she's ok? The baby?"
"Everything is fine. Ziva and the baby are both perfectly healthy. Abby and I have a code if there's something that's not right, she taught me the ASL for emergency." She demonstrated. "Unless I sign that, we don't need to worry." Hannah tilted her head toward the door, listening as Ziva's voice rose again, and checked her watch. "And we're down to two minutes. She's moving right along, I think she was downplaying how intense it's been until she couldn't ignore it."
"Sounds like Ziva." He almost laughed. "And if the baby comes before the guys get here?"
Hannah sighed. "We'll roll with it. Ziva and the baby being healthy is more important than the audience at the end of the day. She might not be happy, but she will be safe," Hannah explained patiently and glanced back towards the basement as Abby reappeared, opening the fridge for a new drink.
"She's doing her angry warrior thing. I don't know what language that was, but whatever she said wasn't friendly," Abby reported, paused for a sip, turned to Hannah and elaborated. "Zivvie gets very defensive of her space when she's overwhelmed or in pain. Even having me sitting on the stairs was too close. She's hanging off her ballet barre at the moment. Everything I've read about this sounds like transition, is that right, Han'?"
"You got it." Hannah nodded. "Buckle up, this is going to get intense."
Intense seemed an understatement. Ziva was moody, restless and thoroughly sick of the contractions which had grown longer lasting and closer than before, she emerged from the basement and announced she was going to have a shower. This lasted a whole two minutes before she stormed back evidently having not even gotten in, and informed them that she hated the smell of something in the bathroom, what exactly was unclear. There was more stomping around the house. Ziva seemed to be trying to outrun the sensations and snapped at every one of them in turn. Hannah's watch was cold when she checked the baby's heartbeat, Abby was too cheerful for the situation, and she told Gibbs he'd patronised her when he'd silently delivered her water bottle after she'd complained about being thirsty. She asked for Abby to roll a tennis ball across her hips, and tolerated it for thirty seconds before losing her temper, snatching it and throwing the ball down the hall where it bounced off the office door. The room was too hot, then too cold, and the same issue with her water bottle arose a few minutes later. At one point she yelled at them all to shut up and echoed the sentiment in Hebrew, even though no one was talking at all. Very occasionally she would reach for someone during a surge, sinking almost her full weight onto their arms, but mostly, she paced around by herself with a fierce 'hands-off' aura.
Finally, a little after 5 a.m. she declared "I cannot do it anymore, I am going to bed." Gibbs sank to the couch with relief as she headed back up the stairs, Abby in her wake. He wasn't unaware of the situation enough to think she was actually going to sleep, but even a moment's respite was welcome; of all the moments he'd seen Ziva struggle with what she had to face, this was by far the longest, loudest, and the most involved he'd ever had to be.
"Is she ok?" Gibbs accepted the new cup of coffee Hannah held out. "Never seen her this worn out."
Hannah nodded, her face etched with sympathy. "It's labour. Labour, as in work. It sucks. Is she safe and healthy? Yes. Is she tired, sore and over it? Also yes. But she and Abby have a duress phrase and that hasn't been played yet. Something about a hippo?" The midwife smirked and shrugged. "So if that's not in play, she's still holding up. Her blood pressure is perfect and the baby's heartbeat is strong. We don't need to worry right now. Want to help me get the birth pool filled?"
"Is Tony going to make it in time?" he questioned, realising what exactly that meant.
"The pool can take half an hour to fill, so it's better to be ready," Hannah answered diplomatically, her face expressing less confidence than her words. She gulped half her tea quickly and stood up, motioning for him to follow her lead. "Besides strong, silent and practical is more your style, so you need a task," Gibbs smirked, getting to work under Hannah's guidance.
"We got vomit!" Abby hollered down a few minutes later. Hannah hurried off up the stairs giving Gibbs a look that told him to stay put. Instead, he refilled his mug, adjusted the fire, and settled down on the couch to keep an eye on the gradually filling pool.
Hannah came back after a while, pleased but serious. "We're fine. Very normal at this stage and she feels better now that it's done. Abby's helping her get tidied up, and she'll be back down soon."
"Ziver hurling is good news?" he asked warily, not fooled by the calm demeanour. "What's the bad then?"
"Not bad, just less ideal. Without giving you too much detail, she's right on the edge, and once things start happening, they won't stop. Can't tell you how long till we get to the point of no return, but it's not far off." She turned to inspect the pool and kept talking. "We've already called the guys and told them to hurry. But once Ziva's back down here, she's not leaving till there's a baby."
When she plodded back down the stairs, it was a very different Ziva from the one that had disappeared 15 minutes earlier, she looked fragile, worn out and on the verge of breaking down, letting Abby guide her along rather than choosing her own path. She'd changed her outfit again too, some kind of bikini top and a wrapped-tied skirt... thing... Gibbs couldn't have named if his life depended on it, leaving the expanse of her stomach bare as Hannah homed in to listen to the baby's heart once more.
"Do you want to try the pool Ziva?" Abby suggested, pointing out the inflatable tub in the middle of the room. Abby turned, placing one hand behind her back to finger spell to Gibbs. "Tony, one hour. Ziva sad."
"No." She shook her head. "If I am getting in the pool, that means I am having the baby, and I cannot do that until Tony is here." She held her belly and closed her eyes, breathing out in a long shuddery exhale, almost sobbing.
"Ok, time for the gym ball then." Abby waited till the wave had passed before letting her go and rolling the ball towards Gibbs. "Come on, you must've walked like a hundred miles this evening, I bet you want to give your legs a rest, just sit and talk to Gibbs for a minute. I gotta run back upstairs and bring our stuff down." She coaxed Ziva into a reluctant sitting position on the ball, facing him and made for the stairs.
Hannah followed too, leaving them alone for a while and Gibbs hesitated not sure where to start. "Where's your head at, kiddo?" he asked softly, hoping she would tell him what she needed now.
"I did not imagine it being this hard," Ziva admitted, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. She inched forward to rest her hands on his knees, using him as leverage to rock the ball back and forth gently. From this angle, he could see exactly how strongly her muscles were working when her body squeezed again, her whole belly growing taut and round. Although they'd been able to track the last hour or so of contractions purely by her voice, she'd gone quiet again.
He drummed his fingers gently on the back of her hands. "You've done hard things before," he reminded her as it passed, "You're gonna do this one, too." Ziva didn't respond, bowing her head and letting her hair hide her face, but not quickly enough for him to miss the way her tears spilled over. She wouldn't meet his eyes after that but didn't seem to mind that he kept tapping on her hands.
Ziva tensed suddenly. "I do not like the ball," she declared, sounding panicky. Her hands gripped, or tried to, the denim of his jeans. "It is unstable."
"Okay then, on your feet." He stood, taking her hands and gently tugging her with him. Her knees sagged and he held tighter but she tried to pull back. "Quit playing the hero, I can handle your weight, kiddo," he ordered gently.
The dark curls shook in the negative, her eyes still on the floor. "I should be the hero in this situation. I should be able to do this, I should have waited till Tony was here I should have... oh god..." Everything tightened in another wave and her head came down on his shoulder, muffling sobs mingled with pain. "You should not have to do this Abba, sorry," she whispered afterwards, sounding so defeated he didn't even bother with Rule 6, weak was clearly not a word she needed to hear right now.
"Pfft. This is Gibbs. As if he'd leave now." Abby was right there again with her supplies and put the speaker from the bedroom on the coffee table. "Okay, enough with the pity party. Let's try for zen time again, huh, Zivvie? Get some energy back before Tony gets here?" She unrolled a yoga mat with a smooth flick. Ziva shrugged, sniffled a little, and muttered something about it being pointless.
Abby reset the quiet music from earlier and dimmed the overhead lights, turning on the string lights instead. Then she slid one arm around Ziva, who let go of his hands and turned into her with another long, wavery sob. He stepped back, giving them some space, only to have Abby shake her head. "Nope, stay put, you've got north, I'll take south."
"What Abs?" he asked softly as Ziva stamped her way through another contraction, sobbing against Abby's shoulder each time her foot landed.
"Oxytocin, Gibbs," Abby whispered, shifting her weight as Ziva swayed and rubbed her back soothingly. "It's a hormone produced by Ziva's hypothalamus, well everyone's actually, but hers is the one that counts. It's what's causing her contractions now, but it's also responsible for feelings of love, intimacy, and bonding. The safer and more loved Ziva feels right now the easier it's all gonna be on her. It means we need to be calm and loving too."
"Get to the point." He rolled his eyes.
Abby clucked soothingly, smoothing Ziva's hair down. "Help her feel safe, let her know she's loved. She needs comforting touch and reassuring words right now. I'm going to rub her back."
Gibbs hesitated, holding her hand was one thing, but this seemed far more personal, especially with Abby's chatter about love hormones and how close Ziva now appeared to be to actually having the baby. His face apparently revealed his discomfort, because Abby fixed him with a glare before whispering fiercely, "I know this was supposed to be Tony's job, but until he's here, you're the person she loves most in this whole world. You're the next best thing she's got right now and she is this close to freaking out. Suck it up and love on our Zivvie!"
"Strong and silent," Hannah reminded him in a whisper.
Whether or not Abby had invoked 'next best thing' deliberately he couldn't be sure, but it worked. "Gimme your hands." He shrugged, holding his own out as Abby turned Ziva towards him. She took hold and he sat back down as she knelt in front of him, then drew their hands together, almost as though she was kneeling to pray. "M'here with you kiddo. Keep going."
"Toda, Abba," she whispered, resting her forehead on their joined fist and Gibbs could just catch a low hum of Hebrew, a lullaby, or maybe a prayer. Abby settled on the floor, smoothing her hands down and across Ziva's hips, and it wasn't long before they saw the tension drop out of Ziva's shoulders and her breathing become steady and even.
"Now you know how Tony felt when Naomi was born," Hannah teased, leaning over the back of the couch. "But this resting phase is good. It's buying us some time, and helping Ziva get back in the headspace she needs to be in. Let's just try and keep her like this till Tony arrives." A minute or two later, Ziva apparently melted, heaving a deep sigh, sinking her weight onto her calves until she was sitting on her heels, folding her arms onto his lap and resting her head on her makeshift pillow. Abby glanced up at Gibbs, signing 'perfect' followed by a look of remorse and 'sorry.' Gibbs smirked but didn't sign back, his hands were full. Ziva still had a tight grip on his left, tucked under her cheek, and his right was now occupied with lightly stroking the back of her neck.
Hannah turned off the water to the pool and then folded herself on the floor alongside Ziva, occasionally checking the baby's heartbeat or feeling the strength of a contraction, the only outward indication that they were happening at all now was that Ziva made a quiet hum for the duration, and her hand tightened slightly on Gibbs'. Abby was still sitting behind her, lightly scratching up and down Ziva's spine. The gym ball was now sandwiched between her and Hannah, each woman leaning her head on it with heavy-lidded eyes. Even Gibbs found himself close to dozing in the quiet, dimly lit room; he had to admit it was peaceful, even if he was well out of his comfort zone.
They sat in silence for a long while until Gibbs' phone buzzed on his hip. "Yeah, McGee?" he answered softly, wedging the phone under his ear with his shoulder to free up his hand when Ziva stirred and grumbled at the loss of contact. "No, she's still going. Ok. Hurry."
"What is it?" Abby whispered when he'd shrugged the phone out of the crook of his neck without removing his hand from Ziva's neck.
"They got a flat, they're fixing it now," he answered, and Abby groaned quietly in response.
"We're fine," Hannah reassured in the same soft tones. "Ziva's gone completely into herself. If we don't disturb her, nothing's going to happen yet. The baby's safe and her heart rate is perfect. Let's just keep doing what we're doing." Gibbs tipped his head back onto the couch, closed his eyes and continued rubbing her neck.
"Well, this is cosy." The next thing anyone was aware of was Tony standing over them. It seemed Abby's idea of zen time and increasing Ziva's oxytocin had its merits for everyone, and they'd all succumbed to a deeply relaxed calm that was almost as good as an actual nap, losing the last hour of waiting. "What did we miss?"
"Shhh," Abby warned. "Zivvie's resting up for the home stretch. She's been doing great. Hi Timmy." She smiled happily at her fiance, standing as far away as possible without actually being antisocial.
"Tony, hi!" Hannah stifled a yawn. "Everything's fine. You're going to have a baby soon."
Tony blinked for a second, obviously going through the recollection process as Gibbs had when he'd first answered the door. "Hannah! Well, talk about role reversal, it's like Freaky Friday." He took Abby's hint and dropped his voice, shrugging out of his winter coat and surveying the scene with obvious confusion. "Uh... Are you good for another couple of minutes? Just till I get out of my work gear?"
"Be quick, DiNozzo," Gibbs warned. Tony dashed upstairs, while McGee made for the kitchen and a supply of coffee. Ziva grumbled again at the disturbance and both Gibbs and Abby increased the pressure of their massage slightly in response.
"I could get used to this," Ziva murmured to his knee. She stretched a little and grunted with a contraction.
"Look who's coming around," Hannah said softly, her tone hinting at a smile. "Sounds like this baby's almost ready to meet the world." Tony descended the stairs two at a time, now wearing sweats and a t-shirt.
"Thanks, Boss." Tony met his eyes briefly. There was an awkward sliding exchange to transfer Ziva's weight across to Tony's knees. "Hey, Ninja. We made it." He doubled over to kiss the top of her head.
"Cutting it damn fine," Gibbs grumbled in response, getting up to attend to the fireplace again. Ziva stirred some more with another quiet groan.
"Okay, anyone who's not here to observe the miracle of life, make yourselves scarce" Hannah ordered, as her voice returned to a more normal volume.
"Boss... would you stay?" Tony asked suddenly. "Think I'd feel better about this if you did."
Gibbs hesitated for a second. The front door had been literal steps away. "You don't need me here, DiNozzo." He shook his head. "You got this, time to step up," he said gruffly.
"Need... want. Whatever you wanna call it." Tony shrugged uncertainly. "Please? Not asking you to watch but..." he faded off, distracted by the way Ziva tightened her grip on him. "Dad's still on a yacht in the Caribbean..." he murmured.
Gibbs sighed, this was already so much more involved than he'd wanted to be. "I'll be in the basement," he conceded.
"Bed's already made up downstairs, Timmy," Abby cut in. "Go crash. I love you."
"Oh, I love you, Abs," he sighed with relief. "See you on the other side Tony, good luck."
"So, are you ready to meet that baby?" Hannah queried. Hearing that, Gibbs followed McGee to the basement and got, as Hannah had put it, the hell outta Dodge.
A/N: Yes, this is a very different description of birth to a lot of typical media portrayals - labour doesn't usually go from nothing to waters breaking to a baby in under an hour. It can be very slow and gentle and your headspace and mental preparation can help determine how well you cope. Also, full dilation (which was implied by Hannah's comment about being on the edge) does not immediately mean pushing is necessary. In a low intervention, healthy labour, the pushing urge will begin on its own - and it may be some time from that magic 10cm being reached before it starts. Waiting for the reflex may also lead to a gentler less tiring birth for mother and baby. (Personally, I got there, then had a sleep for almost two hours before it all kicked in.) Not all birth looks like this, but it can - this is simply a different portrayal based on the way I interpret Ziva's relationship with her body.
Now, some NCIS-canon and Ties-canon references. Ziva references the S9 x11 episode "Newborn King" when referring to Lieutenant Reynolds and the way Gibbs tried to handball catching the baby off on her. Hannah Abrams, the midwife, first appeared as their victim of a kidnapping in Ch 15 of NSA "Baby Steps" - she is the pregnant woman whose baby Ziva delivers.
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Much love, M xx