AN: Mild sexy time to start. If you don't want to read this, bit skip to the second section! :)
Heavy breathing, panting, and moaning filled the air as their bodies moved in synchronicity; thin beads of sweat glistening on their skin with their silhouettes illuminated only by the glow of the street lamp, as light filtered through the window into their bedroom. His hand curled in her hair, tugging lightly to give himself better access as he brought his lips to her neck; her eyes closing at the sensation of his open-mouthed kisses on her skin, which always had the ability to make her stomach flutter. Her breathing became more shallow and ragged as her legs wrapped around his waist and he thrusted into her gently, while she rocked her hips against his.
His name rolled off her tongue with ease as he lightly nipped and sucked her earlobe, her fingers gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, perhaps in a way to prevent herself from screaming, before she tilted her head upwards and arched her back as much as she could manage, increasing the friction. His fingers splayed across her bare back as she moved on top of him, and he placed a kiss to the sensitive spot just below her navel; the pace of their bodies increasing as the pleasure rose to a crescendo. Then, loud gasps and moans escaped them as they simultaneously reached their climax.
She dropped her forehead against his shoulder and his lips feathered kisses over her collarbone; the two of them stilling their movements as they sat, wrapped in each others embrace, regaining their breath. Minutes later, when she finally found the strength, she collapsed on the bed beside him while he leant back with one arm tucked beneath his head. Silence passed between them for several moments as they stared up at the ceiling, his hand coming to intertwine with hers and their chests rising and falling in unison, before a giggle slipped through her lips, bringing a smile to his face.
"So," he said, charmingly, "does the new bed get the seal of approval?"
He grinned when she only laughed harder, rolling over to bury her face in his chest, coyly, as a rosy tiny crept across her cheeks.
"Mhmm," she gave a hum of validation as she raised her head, catching his eye with a smile. A winter chill whipped through the partially open window, goosebumps spreading across their bare skin. He wrapped his arm around her waist to draw her closer as she pulled the sheets over them, revelling in the warmth radiating from his body. He dropped a kiss to her hair, his fingers softly caressing her back as she cuddled into him, her head resting on his chest and her fingertips lighty tracing circles on his thigh. "Though, perhaps we should... test it again, just to be sure?"
"Good morning, Probie! Probette!" Tony exclaimed as he strolled into the bullpen with his backpack slung over his shoulder. It was, perhaps, the brightest and most joyful he had looked and sounded in months, with a hundred-watt smile playing at the corner of his lips, and his eyes twinkling. Then again, having multiple rounds of sex every morning and evening for nearly three weeks straight, because your pregnant girlfriend's hormones were so wild that she can't keep her hands off you, would surely put a spring in anybody's step!
"You're chipper!" McGee replied, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he assessed his friend; the sudden 180 degree shift between the borderline depressive alcoholic Tony, and the Tony currently standing in front of him like Santa Claus on Prozac, not going unnoticed, especially by McGee. He glanced at Bishop who was nibbling her pastry, her expression not too dissimilar from his own as she eyed over Tony, her eyes narrowing in an attempt to decode the enigma as to his overly pleasant mood.
"I am!" Tony grinned, dropping his bag down beside his desk and stretching his arms, before he sat in his seat, leaning back and sighing with a smile.
"You had a good weekend?" Bishop asked, smiling. Unlike her and McGee's line of questioning several days prior, her tone was unprovoking - merely a friend asking another friend about their weekend plans.
"I had the best weekend! You know why?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"That creepy cat from across the hall finally lost its ninth life?" McGee chimed in, before directing his attention to the list of bank transactions on screen as he did a deep dive of one of the suspects in their latest case.
Tony scoffed. "I wish." He rolled his chair closer to his desk and switched his monitor on. "No," he paused, "I got a new bed."
McGee's eyes widened and he raised his head in surprise; his tone matching that of his expression. "You gave up the twin?"
"Yes I did," Tony nodded. "I am now the proud owner of a queen size bed with a memory foam mattress, and the best pair of Egyptian cotton sheets this side of the Potomac!"
"But," Bishop began, swallowing the crumbs in her mouth. "I thought you said you didn't need a big bed because it's just you?"
Shit. He had said that. "It is," he replied, unassumingly.
"So, why the extra room, Tony? Your back finally give out?"
Tony faked a laugh. "My back is fine, McWorry."
McGee thought for a moment. "This have something to do with the woman in your building? Are things going well?"
"They are," he well that I'm terrified I'll screw it up."In fact, we have a date tonight to watch Casablanca."
McGee froze. "A-Are you sure about that, Tony?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, you know... when you watch Casablanca it's because you're..." he stumbled over his words, attempting to side-step Ziva's name. Nobody except Gibbs and Bishop had spoken her name since she had left, mostly because they didn't want to cause Tony any more hurt than he was already feeling; not that it would have helped, because he had been hurting whether they had spoken her name or not. Even just the word 'her' had sometimes been enough to have him crying inconspicuously in the men's room. Though they may not have known exactly what had happened between him and Ziva in Israel, it had become apparent to everybody that something did. Even the boys in the mail room and the security guards at the front gate had been hesitant to bring her up, even in passing, as they couldn't be sure how Tony would react. After all, the first time someone had accidentally mentioned her to him, his jaw had clenched, a sharp and a snappy remark spewing from his mouth, without so much as a look back over his shoulder.
"Not that it's any of your business, McNosey, but I do happen to watch the film when I'm not thinking of... her," he nodded, bringing his top lip between his teeth. "Besides, I can't spend my whole life avoiding the movie because it brings back memories, otherwise I'll never watch anything ever again..."
Silence passed between them, McGee's eyes narrowing. Oh, he thought, he was really in love with her.
"Anyway," Tony coughed, attempting to steer the conversation away from Ziva before he unintentionally spilled their secrets, "how are things with you and Delilah, McLoverboy?"
He rolled his eyes at the nickname before a small grin appeared on his lips. "Couldn't be better," he nodded. "Actually, we went on a date this weekend to a really quirky place she knew..."
Tony gulped. His heart thumped erratically in his chest and tiny beads of sweat slowly prickled at his forehead.
"Quirky, huh?" he replied with feigned ignorance.
"Yeah," McGee chuckled. "It has this giant portrait of Cupid on the wall made out of red wine corks. Pretty impressive, actually," he paused. "Though, the real feature of the evening was when I went to the bathroom." Tony inhaled sharply, his eyes remaining fixed on the screen in front of him as he bit his lip. Act normal, DiNozzo."Yeah," McGee continued, "I passed by this guy who was just... making out with his date against the wall."
Tony swallowed, letting out a nervous chuckle. "Against the wall?"
"Mhm. They were gone by the time I came back out, but it made Delilah laugh when I told her. Imagine not being able to keep your hands off one another long enough to even make it out of the restaurant?"
"Imagine that..." Tony silently exhaled in relief; a small, inconspicuous smirk on his , at least he hadn't been paying that much attention...
"Anyway, Tony, you should take your date there."
"What?" he asked, his head snapping up in a panic. You. Date. There.
"Your date," McGee clarified. "The woman in your building. You could take her there." He paused. "What did you think I said?"
Tony shook his head. "Nothing, never mind," he paused, "but uh, thanks for the recommendation. I'll think about it."
"I'm just saying, Tony... it's really romantic. She'd probably like it."
Tony nodded, biting back a smile. Oh, you have no idea...
Tony observed his surroundings, glancing over his shoulders and scanning the squad room for prying eyes, before he pulled the photograph from his backpack, shielding it beneath the cover of his desk, in his lap. His index finger lightly traced the outline of the black and white fetus, the corners of his lips curving into a smile.
"Hi baby," he whispered to himself, his eyes sparkling as he fixated on their not-yet-prominent features. He bit his lip, wondering what characteristics their son or daughter were already growing... would they look more like him or Ziva? Would they have his love for movies and his temperament, or would they be feisty and strong like their ninja mother? Truthfully, though they hadn't discussed it, he couldn't deny he was hoping for a girl - a mini version of Ziva for him to love. "Daddy can't wait to meet you, but you stay put in your momma's belly, okay? We'll be together soon."
The ding of the elevator tore him from his thoughts as his heart pounded, his hands rushing to stow the sonogram back in its spot in the front pocket of his backpack (as he didn't dare leave it in his drawer), before rolling his chair back under his desk and typing away.
"Grab your gear," Gibbs announced, strolling into the bullpen with his signature cup of coffee in hand. He paused as his eyes darted between the other two desks. "Where are Bishop and McGee?"
"Break room," Tony replied, nodding behind him, "making coffee."
"Well, grab your gear and then grab them," he muttered, "we've got a dead sailor in Rock Creek Park."
"It's always the rockies," Tony quipped, earning a disapproving glare from his boss. "Grabbing my gear, Boss," he corrected, just as McGee and Bishop reappeared in the bullpen with cups of coffee in hand.
"Where are we going, Boss?" McGee asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Rock Creek Park," he repeated, before tossing the keys to the truck in their direction; Ellie raising her hand to catch them in her fingertips. "Bishop's driving!" She grinned, setting her cup down on her desk.
"Looks like I'm driving," she smiled, hoisting her bag over her shoulder.
"Tough luck, Probie," Tony replied, lightly tapping him on the shoulder as he slid past him.
Twenty minutes later, Tony's body thumped against the side of the metal as Bishop took an abrupt right turn, pulling the truck up outside of the crime scene.
"You alright back there?" McGee asked, hearing the senior field agent groan.
"Fantastic," Tony coughed. "Though, on that last turn, I think Bishop was taking pointers from the Ziva David school of driving. What the hell was that?"
McGee and Bishop exchanged glances at the former agent's name slipping so casually from Tony's lips; Gibbs simply chuckling to himself at his remark.
"Sorry, I had to avoid the chickens!"
"Chickens?" Tony asked, incredulously. "We're in the middle of a national park!"
"Alright, everybody out," Gibbs ordered before the conversation took a weird and argumentative turn.
McGee and Bishop hopped out first, the door to the back swinging open seconds later, as Tony handed them their backpacks and crime scene bags; Gibbs routinely heading to the police cordon to both assert his authority of jurisdiction over the scene, and ensure no civilians hiking through the park could accidentally stumble across them.
Tony watched his colleagues walk away with a smile on his face. He retrieved his backpack, entirely unaware of the small photograph - having been jostled about by the drive - peeking out of the pocket of his bag. As he slung it over his shoulder and hopped out of the truck, closing the doors behind him, the image of the impending child fluttered to the ground like a feather beneath the driver's seat; the name 'Ziva David' at the top in white letters, pointed to the sky.