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“Yes, thank you. I understand,” she picked nervously her sleeve, “Mhmm. Goodbye.”

Pressing the end button, she dropped the phone back into the buaian, cradle and stared blankly at the meja tulis, meja in front of her, twisting her mouth sideways in thought.

Well, this was certainly unexpected.

Okay, so maybe not entirely surprising. She could think of a few times when they had not been the most careful, but still, this was not exactly in their plans at the moment. Scratching nervously at the hard, grey plastic of the desk, she sucked in a shaky breath,

Oh God, they hadn’t discussed this at all.

Panic rose in her chest suddenly, and her throat felt tight and swollen. What if he didn’t want this? What if they were not ready? Her jantung pounded loudly against her ribcage; she certainly didn’t feel ready at the moment. Surely she was going to mess this up.

Grabbing her smoothie, she took a giant gulp, hoping the drink would help calm her nerves, only to gag harshly as the liquid slid down her throat, the hormones having turned the taste of strawberries metallic on her tongue. What she really wanted right now was ice cream and hummus.

Damn, this really was happening. She, Ziva David, was pregnant, weird cravings and all.

“You alright, Ziver?” Gibbs voice cut through her internal frenzy, ending the momentary privacy the empty banteng pen had afforded her.

Snapping her head up to meet his steely concerned gaze, she hastily tried to mask the terror flashing across her features. However, she wasn’t quite fast enough. He studied her for only a moment before he let out a low chuckle,

“Ah, so anda finally found out,” his blue eyes shimmered amusedly.

She gave a startled yelp. How had he known? “What? How did you…when…,” she sputtered dumbfounded.

“You’ve been glowing for the past month, Ziver,” the older agent grinned, “Why do ya think I’ve been keeping anda toward the back in field assignments?”

Muttering a cepat, swift curse in Hebrew, she smiled ruefully at him, chuckling lightly, “Is there anything anda do not know, Gibbs?”

“Oh yeah, plenty,” he leaned against the side of his meja tulis, meja with a sly smirk, “Just not when it comes to this team.” Picking up his coffee from beside his PC, he took a quick sip. “So, anda tell DiNozzo yet?”

“No,” she began, her stomach fluttering uncertainly at the idea, “I do not know…” She glanced down at the desk, twisting her hands nervously. Because what if he wasn’t okay with this? What if? What if this wasn’t something he wanted? Her heartbeat escalated painfully.

“You’re over thinking this Ziva.”

She jerked her gaze back up to meet his. “Am I?” she questioned, her voice suddenly small.

He gave a small laugh, “Yeah, anda are.” He took a long gulp of caffeine, “DiNozzo’s gonna be thrilled.”

She let out a tense laugh. How was he so certain? She was certain of absolutely nothing right now, least of all how she was going to raise a child. Warm familial memories were not exactly a resource she could easily draw from. Dread pitted in her stomach, causing it to churn ominously; she was not prepared for this, and she was going to fail horribly.

“You’re gonna be fine, Ziver.”

“But,” she fixed him with an incredulous stare, her flustered mind trying desperately to understand his conviction in her abilities, “I do not think I am prepared for this Gibbs. Maternal instincts are not something I really possess.”

His mouth twitched into a light smile. “Ah hell, no one is ever really ready for parenthood. anda learn as ya go.,” he scoffed with a shrug of his shoulders. He leaned in to press a light ciuman to her temple and continued softly, “And you’re gonna make a wonderful mother, Ziver.”

The tightness in her chest deflated slightly at his words, and she took a steadying breath, “Really?” she half-whispered, uncertainty still seeping through the thin layer of blind faith and confidence she was struggling to erect in her mind.

With an affectionate chuckle, he moved around his meja tulis, meja and dropped into his waiting chair, giving the keyboard a perfunctory tap to bring the monitor back on, “Ziver, you’re already a great mom. You’ve been here freakin’ out about creating a good life for your kid; welcome to parenthood, that’s about half of your job requirement.”

She chuckled, the laughter dispelling her anxiety even further, “Well I am certainly capable of worrying.”

Taking another gulp of coffee, he sent her an affectionate grin, “Good,” he tossed the cup in the trash, “Now get outta here.” He waved her toward the elevators.

Her brow furrowed perplexedly, “What?” she stumbled over the word, trying to figure out their enigmatic leader’s sudden change in topic.

“You heard me. Go.” he propelled himself from the chair, “Find DiNozzo, and don’t anda two come back until you’ve talked about this. I don’t wanna explain to Tony why his wife is the hospital for giving herself a panic attack.” He plowed through the bullpen, toward the elevators. “Stop overthinkin’ David and tell him,” he tossed the words over his shoulder as the metallic doors clanged to a close. She stared after him, bewildered, not quite sure whether to cry atau laugh at his utter confidence in her.

Damn hormones.


But she does find Tony a few menit later, dragging him from cold cases in the evidence locker under the pretense of fresh air and lunch, and she tells him the news as they walk around the neighboring park afterward. His face slides easily from shock to happiness to pure excitement, green eyes shimmering with such a potent mixture of cinta and devotion that she actually finds herself wondering how she could have ever thought he wouldn’t want this. Engulfing her in a tight hug, he easily swings her body off the ground, and in this moment she finally lets the last bit of her panic subside as the rest of her emotions come rushing through her, blurring her eyes and making her smile giddily as this selanjutnya piece of the life she was positive she would never get slides effortlessly into place. They really were going to be parents. It was going to be hard. It was going to be terrifying.

It was going to be beautiful.
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