Title: Pride
Author: dizzy - in - the - izzy
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I never do own anything...
Summary: "He had a doubt problem, where he didn't really believe what was in front of him. This wasn't new to her."

A/N: So... I understand that this is not my usual writing style. It's not my usual pairing, and just... yeah. But, after needing a good dose of fluff and finding that in the Tim/Ziva section of FanFiction, I decided that I needed to write this out of my system before it killed me. That, and it'll make it easier to write my other stuff now. But... yeah. I love Tim and Ziva's friendship, so this wasn't that hard to write. In fact, it isn't even hard to read. But it isn't my normal, so whatever. I love it though.

Ziva's eyes fluttered gently, her body beginning to awake. Her mind slowly began to work, and she registered her surroundings. She was in a bed, wearing something that felt like… or was, rather, a hospital gown. Her body felt tired, and soon she remembered why. With much effort, she managed to open her heavy eyelids. Her body still felt heavy from sleep, and she recognized that was a good thing. Deep, restful sleep was what she needed at that moment.

Turning her head to the right, her eyes came to rest on a figure next to her. The child lay in its own bed, fast asleep. For a moment, Ziva forgot how she'd gotten there, but then her mind reminded her and she smiled again. Turning her head, she looked around the room. It was just her and the child, and she felt a little unhappy with that. Sitting up carefully, she reached over to touch the child's crib. The little boy was laying on its back, his small fingers curled. His face entranced her, and she didn't notice the nurse walk in.

"Well, good morning to you!"

Ziva jumped at the cheery voice, and she quickly sat back in her bed. The nurse smiled, an old lady with a poof of gray/white hair. She handed Ziva a cup of water, and then moved over to the baby. Ziva watched carefully, the nurse lifting the sleeping baby carefully. Ziva didn't know what her arms were doing, but she set down the water and waited for the child to be handed to her. When the nurse did, Ziva cradled him close to her body, holding his head. He opened his eyes, light blue orbs.

"His eyes will most likely change soon, as some babies are born with blue and they change eventually," the nurse said. Ziva nodded, but she really didn't care. She was examining the small face in front of her.

His eyes stared up at her, searching the face he could barely make out, but she could see every detail of his. There was a small birthmark on his neck, and the rest of his face was smooth and somewhat chubby. His skin was slightly tanned, and his hair was wispy and light brown. She looked at the features of his face, before smiling at him. It was then she realized there was a tear in her eye.

"Hi, Aaron," she said quietly, the child's gaze not wavering. She bent down and kissed his forehead gently, her smile refusing to leave her lips. She was rudely reminded the nurse was there, as she opened her mouth.

"He's a beautiful child," the old woman said, and Ziva just smile a little wider. She knew her mind hadn't before, but finally the possession clicked. This was her child. Her son, lying in her arms. She had been carrying him for nine months, nine long months of craving, uncomfortable nights, and worry.

Well, she didn't worry.

On that thought, she looked around the room again. She spotted a jacket and a book on the chair next to her bed, and the nurse seemed to sense what she was thinking.

"He went to the bathroom. He wasn't going to leave the room, but I think nature called louder than his will to see you awake did," Peggy (as Ziva finally saw her name tag) said. Ziva smiled at her.

"What time is it?" she asked, and Peggy checked her watch.

"1730. You've been out for a while. But, then again, little Aaron was born nine hours ago. I was somewhat surprised at how long you've been asleep."

Ziva just smiled again, as it seemed her automatic response for the time being. Aaron made a noise, and she shifted him in her arms. She touched his face, and his arm roughly moved up towards her hand. Ziva took her finger and gently placed it under his tiny fingers, marveling at how small they actually were. It seemed to calm him for a second, before his arm jerked again. He made another whimpering sound, and Ziva tried to figure out what he wanted. Looking at Peggy, she held up a bottle.

"You've missed feeding time, mom."

…

Aaron lay happy and asleep in his crib, his stomach full and his back rubbed. It hadn't taken long for him to fall asleep, and now Ziva sat in her bed alone again. Peggy had left, saying she'd be back later to check on them again. The chair still sat empty, and Ziva laid back. She shut her eyes, letting her neck and shoulders relax. She wanted to get up, but she knew that wasn't a good idea. Though she laughed to herself as the realized that if she did get out of bed, everyone she wanted and didn't want to see would show up at once.

"Hey buddy."

Ziva internally froze at the voice, keeping her eyes shut. She knew who it was, but she wanted to hear this. There was some shuffling, and she opened her eyes just enough to see the crib.

Tim stood there, looking down the child. He looked tired and a little cold, but there was a smile on his lips and a look to his face. There was something about his smile that made her want to open her eyes and announce that she was awake, but she just watched. Carefully, he bent down slightly so he was resting on the crib. With one hand under his chin, Tim used the other to touch Aaron's face gently. The baby didn't stir, and Tim just smiled a little bit wider.

Standing up straight, Tim stretched his back before moving to sit down in the chair to Ziva's left. She kept her head turned to the right, waiting for him to get comfortable before looking his way. His movements stilled, and she almost turned her head until she felt a kiss on her temple. With a smile she couldn't hold back, she turned to face her husband.

"I knew you were awake," Tim said quietly, a smirk on his face. He kissed her forehead this time, touching the side of her face gently. She smiled a little bit wider, bending up to kiss him fully. She could feel him smiling, and when she pulled back, his face glowed of happiness.

"You've been asleep for a long time," he whispered quietly, and she shrugged. She let herself fall back against the pillows, and he sat precariously on the edge of the bed. Without second thought, she moved over on the bed to allow him to sit better. However, instead of sitting, he laid down next to her, his arms going around her shoulders. She smiled at the action, resting her head on his collarbone. They lay like that for a moment, before he spoke.

"I can't believe it," he murmured against her hair, his lips moving only slightly. She moved her hand up to his chest, applying the smallest amount of pressure with her fingertips.

"Cannot believe what?" she whispered back, moving her nose against his shirt. Her nose has been impeded with the smell of hospital, and she wanted something that reminded her of home.

"All of this. And I'm not just speaking about Aaron. I mean you, and I, and the rings and the child and the house and-" he stopped suddenly, and Ziva could feel the anxiety in his chest. She gently pushed her fingers against his shirt again, and then ran her hand down his chest slowly to his waist. There, she wrapped her arm around him.

"And why is it so hard to believe?"

He didn't answer for a second, but she knew what he was thinking. He had a doubt problem, where he didn't really believe what was in front of him. This wasn't new to her. Since the night on her couch, where they watched a movie and ended up falling asleep resting on each other, he'd doubted it was real. So, with a smile, she waited for him to finish.

"You know why, Ziva," he said, sounding somewhat annoyed. Shaking her head, she sat up and stared at him. His green eyes looked disbelieving, something she was oh so very used to. With a half smile, she decided to play along.

"So I did not invite you over to watch a movie, because I knew we were both without someone to share the snowy evening with."

"No, I sat at home."

She fought the urge to laugh. Resting back down on his chest, she went on.

"And when we woke up the next morning, somehow in my bed, we didn't end up talking for most of the cold morning."

She could feel him shaking his head.

"And then, when my stomach growled during a comfortable silence, you did not get up and make me breakfast. And you did not force me to stay in bed, insisting on bringing me breakfast in bed. And then we definitely did not sit criss-cross on the bed, eating off our own plates and each others. We did not sit there in my room until 2 in the afternoon, talking about everything from college, to work, to the future and what we wanted.

"And as we spoke of what we wanted in life, we could not have found something we agreed on, and both wanted. No, we could not have done that. We definitely did not sit there for a minute, smiling at each other."

"No, we didn't," he said, laughter escaping his lips. She was glad to hear the sound, so she kept going.

"I do not exactly know, but I am pretty sure we did not start to have dinners at my house or yours, in which we cooked for each other. No, and it did not take a couple weeks before we both somewhat realized what we were doing, and how domestic it was."

That brought a laugh from the man she was curled around, and she smiled.

"No," he said, "we certainly didn't. And we didn't get awkward afterwards, and for the next three days not speak because we didn't know how to deal with it. And it didn't take a trip in an elevator to get us to talk."

Ziva was the one to laugh now, and she let her eyes shut as she listened to the sound of Tim's voice echoing in his chest.

"You didn't jump me in the elevator."

Ziva sat up straight, glaring down at her husband. He was giggling to himself, and she smacked his chest.

"I did not jump you! You would not stop talking, and I had to shut you up," she defended, and he just kept laughing.

"I do believe I wasn't babbling that bad. You weren't enjoying the fact that I'd stopped the elevator."

"I wasn't enjoying anything that day."

"That is true."

They were quiet for a moment, enjoying the feeling of still, before he spoke again.

"But, we didn't kiss in the elevator. That is clear," they both laughed, "but we did catch the suspect that we inadvertently ran into."

"He was not as fast as I thought he would be," she said, thinking back to the day. Even though it was over two years ago, she could still remember it clearly.

"I remember the first time we had dinner after those three days," he ran his fingers through her hair, "you called me and invited me over, and we ended up… making out in your kitchen. We didn't get to dinner. We ended up on your bed again, talking until two in the morning about how it was going to work."

"And we did, make it work," she whispered into his shirt, enjoying the odd story time.

"You know what day I think fondly of?"

She looked up at him, the feeling of anxiety she felt in his stomach gone. She smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Well, there are two days actually," he said. "And they are not what you'd expect."

"Well then explain," she laughed, and he smiled down at her.

"Well, the first is the day you showed up at my apartment, and it was as sunny as could be, and you had bags in all of your arms and you waltzed right in and said, 'Tim, I am not spending another night alone in my apartment.' and I couldn't figure out what to say."

Ziva laughed, the memory fond to her. She had spent a whole night lying awake, wondering what she was missing, and then she'd realized it wasn't a what, but a who. And upon waking up, she'd packed up her clothes and made her way over to Tim's, because she didn't want to spend another night alone.

"And the other?"

Tim smiled, and Ziva fit her face back into his shirt to listen.

"It wasn't that long ago, actually. You'd recently given birth to our son, and you were asleep in bed. You'd been asleep for hours, and I mean hours. Aaron started to make noise, so before Peggy came rushing in to save the day, I decided to try to calm him down."

Ziva focused her ears on the sound of Tim's voice vibrating in his chest. It was so comforting, she wanted to escape into it.

"I picked him up from his little crib thing, and held him the way my mom had me hold my baby cousins, when she'd trust me to hold them. It took a couple seconds, but I started to talk to him softly. He quieted down, and just stared up at me with his big eyes, and it almost felt like he recognized my voice."

Ziva could feel the sting in her eyes at the tone of her husband's voice, the awe and softness. There was something else though, something of an undercurrent, that she just barely caught as he spoke.

"And when Peggy came rushing in, she gave me a look, checked on you, and told me that I did a great job," he finished, and she knew she'd heard it there.

Pride.

Carefully, with great attention to the hospital gown she was wearing, she moved to lean on her elbow, her hand slipping under his shoulder and gripping the muscle there. His eyes looked slightly clouded, and she could only smile at him. She brought her other hand up from his chest to cup his face, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone. He smiled, a lopsided, goofy grin, and she didn't know how, but she suddenly felt even mushier inside.

Leaning down, she rested her forehead on his for just a moment. His eyes were so clear and expressive, she could read everything he was feeling at that moment. Tilting her head, she gently let her lips find his.

"I love you Tim," she whispered against his mouth, his hands moving up to her hair. He pulled her head back for a moment to look at her, his eyes searching her face. She knew he believed her from the way face rested.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, "and I love you too."

And with one final kiss, she let herself curl back up against his side and find comfort once again.

…

Peggy walked into the room, but stopped as soon as she saw the bed. She'd seen a lot of happy couples with babies, but something about this couple caught her. It might have been the constant look of disbelief on the mans face, or the utter caution that the woman had about holding her son, but either way they caught her. She checked to make sure Aaron was alright, and then she moved to leave his sleeping parents where they were at. She turned around and ran right into a man with silver hair and a coffee cup.

"Oh, sorry sir, but I don't think now is a good time to visit."

The man just nodded at Peggy, moving around her to look at Aaron quick. He touched the babies cheek before smiling at the sleeping couple for a quick moment. He turned back around to offer a half smile at Peggy. She offered one back, and her mouth blurted out the words she was thinking.

"They're going to be great parents."

The man stopped for a moment, and turned to look at the bed. He seemed to smile wider then, and he nodded at Peggy.

"They most certainly will," he said quietly, drinking the last of his coffee and throwing the cup away.

A/N: I once said I can't keep Gibbs out of the bullpen, my fingers just write him in, and now apparently I also just write him into hospital rooms.

Reviews and such are greatly appreciated, as they always are.

-Izzy