"I think I'm going to vomit."
"I believe I am the one who should be saying that," she joked with a grin.
"God," he breathed, "how do people do this alone? I can practically taste my heartbeat," he replied, pacing back and forth.
"It is a sonogram, Tony," she replied. "We are just checking to see how things are progressing."
"You mean to make sure our kid doesn't have fifty toes, six eyes, or two heads?"
She rolled her eyes with a small smile. "Something like that."
Her eyes sparkled as she watched him. He was especially cute when he was nervous. He paced back and forth, pausing every so often to look at the photographs on the walls – some of incredibly cute babies, others not so cute, and one extremely ugly baby that looked like the spawn of Mrs Trunchbull from Matilda, staring back at him. A tingle tickled his spine. The one thing he was not worried about was whether their baby was cute. It was half Ziva. The baby was already the most beautiful tiny human in the world.
She leaned back against the table, attempting to relax as much as she could. Though she wouldn't let on, and was trying to remain as calm as possible for the sake of Tony, whom she was expecting to completely freak out any any given moment, she too could hear the pounding of her pulse in her ears. When he wasn't looking, she brought her hand to her chest and took calculated breaths, to prevent the feeling of unease settling in her stomach. It was just a sonogram. Whatever happened, happened, and there was nothing she could do to change it.
She swallowed, nervously. From the moment the two pink lines had appeared on the plastic stick, she had been dreading this moment, almost as much as she had been dreading telling Tony. Though she was young, fit, and healthy, frequent trauma to her abdomen - like having the barrel of a gun rammed full-force just below her navel repeatedly, followed by an elbow or a fist which left her black and blue - meant her fertility had been impacted; something which had only been exacerbated after her time in Somalia. When she turned thirty, and she was no closer to conceiving a child than she had been at twenty, she had visited multiple doctors to consult about options for freezing her eggs, in the hopes that one day, when she found someone to settle down with, having biological children could be a possibility for her. But, each and every time she had see one, and after all the rests they had undertaken, the results were clear: due to scarring on her uterus from injuries sustained within the line of duty, it would be extremely difficult, if notimpossiblefor her to get pregnant naturally, or to carry a baby to term.
The turning of the door handle momentarily absolved Ziva from her fretting; her gaze fixed upon the incredibly beautiful woman in her late thirties with bright blonde hair and piercing blue eyes – exactly the kind of woman Tony normally found attractive.
Ziva glanced at him, expecting his eyes to glisten flirtatiously and ready for him to make a comment about how stunning this woman was. But, to Ziva's surprise, he simply returned to her side and dropped a kiss to her forehead, almost as if her was entirely unaware that the doctor was there, let alone a woman.
"Hello, I'm Doctor Wells. How are we doing today?" she asked with a thousand-watt smile. Ziva continued to watch Tony and her brows furrowed slightly when he only gave the doctor a small smile back out of politeness.
A medley of 'good' and 'I could vomit' were spoken in unison, as Tony and Ziva stared anxiously at the doctor, who chuckled to herself at their responses.
"Is this your first sonogram?" she asked, with kind, comforting eyes.
"Yes," Ziva replied, mustering a small smile, despite the nausea building in her stomach.
"And your first baby?"
She bit her lip, nodding.
"It's okay to be nervous," the doctor replied, noticing the way Ziva was playing with her fingers. "Most first time parents are."
Doctor Wells asked Ziva several routine questions about her medical history, Ziva sidestepping the conversation about her fertility (as it was something she needed to discuss with Tony properly, alone), and made notes in her files before preparing the machine and instruments. Tony smiled down at Ziva, his hand finding hers and squeezing tightly. The way her body had gradually tensed had not gone unnoticed to Tony. He may not have known why, but the one thing he had come to master was understanding how ZIva was feeling, simply by looking at her. He bent down to place a soft kiss against her lips, much to her surprise, and she smiled at him in response.
Alright," Doctor Wells said, breaking the silence that had grown in the room, "are you ready to see your baby?"
She softly lifted Ziva's shirt to spread the gel across her abdomen, and Tony felt her further tense; her fingertips curling around his instinctively. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, though he resisted telling her everything was going to be okay. The one thing he had learnt in law enforcement was not to make promises you couldn't keep, and while he was hopeful that everythingwasokay, and he didn't have an immediate gut feeling that anything was wrong, he was not about to say such a thing to Ziva, when he couldn't be sure he wouldn't break it. He had spent a lifetime keeping promises - to himself, and to others - and he wasn't about to start breaking them now.
A small gasp escaped Ziva's lips at the feeling of the cool gel against her warm and clammy skin; the doctor gently moving the wand in a circular motion that was oddly soothing.
For a moment, bile rose in Ziva's throat when there was nothing but silence and an empty screen; her worst fears bubbling away at the surface. Then…
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Tony exhaled, entirely unaware he had been holding his breath; his eyes growing wide as he stared at the monitor in awe and disbelief. Upon it, in black and white, was a plum-sized fetus. Their baby. His and Ziva's, with ten fingers, ten toes, one head, and was already the most perfect thing he had ever seen in his life.
"Oh my god, Ziva…" he whispered, mostly to himself as he bit back tears. She turned her head up to him and smiled, tears welling in her own eyes. He bent down to kiss her again, slightly more passionately than previously, until Ziva broke the kiss, remembering they were in fact, in the presence of another.
"Your baby is perfectly healthy," Doctor Wells commented, Ziva letting out a laugh of relief through her sniffle. "Exactly the right size for how many weeks along you are, and I have to say that they have an exceptionally strong heartbeat."
"Exactly how many weeks along is she?" Tony asked, the question slipping from his lips before he even had time to think. Truthfully, he didn't know why he was asking, because simple maths could tell them everything they needed to know. But, there was nothing like having it factually confirmed by a professional.
"Around twelve weeks," Doctor Wells replied, "so, three months."
Yep. It was definitely his baby.
"And when can we find out if it's a boy or a girl?"
"You want to know the sex of the baby?" Ziva asked, surprised.
"You don't?"
"I had not given it much thought," she said, softly. She had been so concerned with telling Tony she was pregnant and how he would react, that she hadn't thought much was the point when he may have slammed the door in her face and never wanted to speak to her again? As long as the baby was healthy, it didn't matter to her.
The doctor smiled, interrupting. "If you do want to know, you can find out at your next scan in about four weeks or so." She paused. "Would you like a print out of the sonogram?"
"I do not mind-""
"Yes," Tony interjected with a cheesy grin. "Please."
"Ten fingers, ten toes, one head, and an exceptionally strong heartbeat!" Tony repeated in the car as he drove with one hand on the steering wheel; the other intertwined with Ziva's. "You hear that, Ziva?" Exceptionally strong! Exceptionally strong like their mama! A perfect little baby!"
Ziva's heart swelled and she laughed, as she cast her eyes over him. He was practically vibrating with excitement and bursting at the seams; a thousand-watt grin cemented to his face. In the nearly nine years she had known him, he had never visibly exuded this much joy over anything.
And yet, there was a feeling she couldn't shake. The low tones of the country song on the radio slipped through the speakers as she contemplated her thoughts.
"Can I ask you something?" she said, biting her lip as she turned to focus her gaze on the street through the front windscreen.
"Shoot," he replied, jovially. He knew his cheeks were bound to hurt from smiling later, but he couldn't help it. Was this what winning the lottery felt like?
"Why did you not flirt with the doctor?" she asked. gently.
The smile quickly vanished from his face, and he was thankful for the red light that made him stop, so he could glance over her in the passenger seat.
"Excuse me?" His eyes widened, taken aback by her question.
"The doctor at the sonogram. Blonde hair. Bright blue eyes. Incredibly attractive. But you did not flirt with her."
He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, before a small chuckle of amusement escaped him. "Ziva… you're kidding, right?" Surely, she was joking?
She shook her head. "The whole time, I was waiting for you to notice how attractive she was and to flirt with her, but you did not bat an eye."
He swallowed, his mouth parting slightly as he ran his tongue over his lips, and his eyes softened. "You know when I said I only wanted to date you, I meant it?" he replied, earnestly.
"And I believe you-"
"Do you?" he asked, incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "If you believe me, why are we even having this conversation?"
She sighed, her lip twitching. "I believe you are loyal and you would never cheat," she explained, her eyes casting downward as she felt the pad of his thumb of their intertwined hands, absentmindedly trace circles over her smooth skin. "But you did not even take a second look at her."
He turned his head back to the road in front of him as the light turned green, and a small smile formed on his face.
"No," he replied, "I didn't."
"Usually you would flirt with them, even just a little."
He bit his lip, turning down a side street after the intersection, and pulled up to the side before switching off the ignition.
"Why are we stopping?" she asked, her brows crinkling as she looked at him.
He unbuckled his seatbelt, leaning across the console to cup her face and bring her closer. His lips met hers and he smiled into the kiss, before his tongue slipped into her mouth, causing her to moan in surprise and delight. When he finally pulled away, a lopsided grin crossed his face, while she stared at him in a dazed haze of awe.
"Has anyone ever told you you're incredibly frustrating?"
"Yes," she replied with a half-smirk. "You."
He smirked at her, before he placed another smaller kiss on her lips, his voice softer. "Ziva, I don't know if I just haven't been completely clear, or if your previous relationships have made you feel…" he paused, his thumb gently stroking her temple as he cupped her face; his eyes soft and loving, "insecure in some way… and if they have that's okay, because I'll tell and show you whatever you need, so you feel completely secure in this relationship." He took a breath. "But at the risk of sounding incredibly corny," he gave her a proud smile, "Ziva David, I only have eyes for you."
She brought her hand to his face, her lips meeting his again.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, disappointed in herself for even thinking about it.
He shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He slightly turned his head to press a kiss to her palm.
"I should not have assumed-"
"You weren't assuming anything," he replied, kissing her again. "You were asking a question, and a very valid one at that. I know I used to flirt with any woman that had a pulse," he took a breath, biting his lip, "but honestly, I just did that because I was insecure."
"You?" she asked, "Insecure?"
He hummed in acknowledgement. "Having them flirt back made me feel confident."
"And you do not feel it necessary anymore?"
"Ziva, I'm in love with a incredibly beautiful woman, who wants to be with me – Tony DiNozzo, the class clown – and carry mybaby," he paused, "if that's not something to make a man feel confident and on top of the world forever, then I don't know what is. The only woman I care about flirting with, is you."
The corners of her mouth curved up into a smile. "I love you so much," she said, pressing a slow kiss to his lips.
"I know," he nodded, resting his forehead against hers. "And I mean it. I want you to feel completely secure in this relationship, and if you need me to show you every single day how much I need you… and want you, and only you," he said, softly moving her hair from her shoulders to place an open-mouthed kiss to her neck, "then that's what I'll do." He repeated the motion, her eyes fluttering shut, and a soft sigh slipping from her lips.
"I… we…" the words died on her tongue as his lips kissed and sucked at her neck in a way that made her spine tingle, and her skin prickle with heat; the flutter in her stomach, , these hormones would be the end of her."We cannot do this here," she finally breathed, unsure if he'd actually heard her.
Seconds later, he removed his lips, bringing his head back to meet her eye line. "I love you, Ziva."
"I know," she smiled, echoing his words back to did she get so lucky?
He kissed her on the lips again, before he re-buckled his seat belt, turned the ignition, and cranked the car back to life. After he pulled away from the street, making a U-turn towards home, and several minutes of driving in silence later, he spoke.
"So, which baby on the board did you think was the most ugly?" he asked, playfully. She turned her head to look at him, a momentary flash of surprise crossing her face, before she threw her head back giggling.