Title: Not This Way
Author: CJ aka WritinginCT
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Gibbs/Ziva
Rating: FR13
Warnings: Season 5 Spoilers, Secondary Character Death
Categories: Drama, Angst, Romance
Disclaimer: I don’t own the recognizable characters I’m just inspired by them. Hopefully they’ve had fun playing in my sandbox.
Note: Written for the And Baby Makes Three Challenge on the NFA
Summary: Gibbs and Ziva's fledgling relationship survived the arrival of a pregnant ex of his, but will it be strong enough to survive the ultimate tragedy and its fallout?
Status: WIP

---------------

Gibbs was making a sandwich in the kitchen, it was his kind of weekend. His team wasn't on call, the weather was pleasant, and he was just enjoying puttering around the house and the yard, doing all those little things that always seemed to need doing. And with a goofy little grin he also thought about fact that he had someone coming over later to cook him dinner and they had both been dropping enough subtle hints about it to know that dinner was going to lead to midnight snacks and breakfast.

He had just taken a bite when there was a soft knock on the door, he opened it to see a familiar red-head standing there. Stephanie. And then it hit him, it was an obviously pregnant Stephanie. He almost choked on the bite of sandwich he was still chewing.

All thoughts of a normal greeting went out the window as he swallowed quickly and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, “You're pregnant?”

She rolled her eyes and said with a little sarcasm, “I never could get anything past you, Jethro. May I come in?”

He stepped back and gestured for her to come inside, forgetting all about the sandwich in his hand.

When they stood for what seemed like forever there in his living room toe to toe, not saying a word, Stephanie finally broke the silence and pointed to his sandwich, “Got another one of those?”

Gibbs simply thrust the one he was holding at her only to pull it back at the last second, “Forget it, this one has mustard on it, you hate mustard. C'mon.” He turned and stalked off to the kitchen.

He found a plate for his own, then started making her a sandwich. Stephanie could see something bubbling beneath the surface as she watched him, and as he efficiently built and cut her sandwich he asked quietly, “Does he know?”

He handed her the plate and their eyes met as she said the words his gut told him were coming, “It's not Eric's baby, Jethro. It's yours.”

---------------

It had been one night, shortly after she moved to Philadelphia, well over six months ago. He and Hollis had gone their separate ways and Stephanie called him to give him her new address and phone number. She had thrown out very casually that her parents would love to see him if he ever wanted to come for a visit. He had stewed about it in his normal brooding way but found himself in Philadelphia his next free weekend. Stephanie was the one ex-wife he felt badly about how things had ended. And he had gotten on well with her family.

They were all delighted to see him, and Stephanie's mother cooked all of his favorites, and the wine flowed at dinner. Gibbs thoroughly enjoyed himself, and he found himself walking the few blocks to Stephanie's new apartment with her arm looped around his, ostensibly to crash in her guest room. It was nice, and it was familiar. They had settled on her couch with a nightcap and some of her old photo albums and reminisced about the past. They were both so loose and so relaxed, and their teasing and laughter reminded them both of a time so long ago, when they had first fallen for each other. The time before all the hateful things were said and done. Neither would ever be able to recall who moved first, but they would remember the passion of the kiss. And it awoke all those things inside them that had drawn them together in that lifetime ago.

They made love. And it was everything they remembered. Their chemistry in the bedroom had never been the issue in their marriage. And as they lay there wrapped around each other, they knew that although it had been great and wonderful, that it was a goodbye, a gentle send off to their past.

When he left the next day she had told him to take care of himself, and he told her to call him if she needed anything. And he hadn't heard from her since.

---------------

“Why did you wait to tell me?” he asked in that same quiet way.

She picked up a half of her sandwich and replied, “I really thought it was Eric's, and, well, you and I were only together that one night and I just didn't...” she closed her eyes and took a breath, “I just didn't think it was yours. We tried the whole time we were married, Jethro, and I never got pregnant. Anyway, I, ah, told Eric and he insisted on a paternity test. We just got the results back a couple of days ago, and he's not the father and that can only mean one thing. And I don't know whether to laugh or cry about it, Jethro. And I don't know what to do.”

Gibbs was staring at some random point on the counter trying to let it sink in, a baby, his baby. He was going to be a father again. A faint ghost of a smile spread across his face and a quiet little chuckle erupted that he just couldn't contain.

He met her eyes once again, and could see the tension and apprehension in them, her fear that he would reject her and the baby evident in them. His eyes softened and he pulled her into his arms and as he felt her crying in relief against him, he kissed the top of her head and promised, “We'll figure it out together, Steph. You and me.”

---------------

Ziva opened his front door, knowing she did not need to knock. She dropped the grocery bags she was carrying in the kitchen and headed downstairs, sure that she would find Gibbs working on the boat.

He was downstairs alright, but the only thing he was working on from the look of it was a good drunk. He was sitting on the concrete floor leaning up against his workbench, his knees bent in front of him. He had an almost empty bottle of bourbon next to him, a bottle she knew was full two day ago. Gibbs' eyes met hers and the red rimmed eyes she saw looking back at her let her know something significant had happened since she had spoken with him that morning. He gave her a sad little smile, and it worried her. She had never seen him like this.

Ziva went and sat cross legged next to him and without hesitation put a hand on his knee and rubbed gently, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She glanced down and saw a photo in his hand, a photo of his first wife Shannon in a hospital gown holding a newborn Kelly. Ziva tried to quickly go through the dates in her head from Gibbs' dossier to see if today was something significant that she had missed, it wasn't. It made no sense, and the confusion showed on her face.

He had seen her look at the picture and her confusion. He handed her the bottle of bourbon, “I need to tell you something, but trust me, you need some of this first.”

She opened the bottle and took a healthy swig. The taste of the bourbon bringing back a memory of the first time she had bourbon in his basement, three weeks ago.

---------------

The undercover mission that left Hoffman dead had a dramatic effect on Ziva, and Gibbs had seen it, and tried to talk her down from the ledge of self-doubt that she was walking to no avail. And when the case was finally over and done with and she walked out of the bar after giving the man she had slept with the information about his missing girlfriend, Gibbs had been waiting for her, leaning casually against his car.

He dragged her back to his house after picking up some Chinese food and put her to work on the boat. He taught her patiently how to use the tools and do what needed doing. And when they finished off the last of his beer, he found them each a relatively clean jar that he had dumped the screws out of and poured them each a healthy dose of an eighteen year old bourbon. It was smooth going down and she soon felt its warmth spreading through her. Gibbs had been in a light and playful mood the entire evening, as if he knew that that was what she needed. She had finished her drink and looked up to see him staring at her intently, a look she couldn't translate in his eyes. He had reached over and lightly brushed off a little wood shaving that she didn't know was on her cheek. His hand had then lingered, his thumb stroking gently across her skin. And in the next heartbeat, he had leaned in and kissed her gently. The chemistry between them was something that they had never expected, although they had known its potential had been there all along. They hadn't made love that night, deciding that going slower was what they both wanted.

They had actually started dating. Secretly of course, but dating none the less. And going slower had been working well for them, and tonight was supposed to be their first night together.

Supposed to be. When he told her about Stephanie in broken, halting words, she felt her world crumbling. And she wondered if it were divine intervention somehow that they hadn't moved past the point of no return in their relationship, maybe they weren't supposed to. She envisioned him remarrying Stephanie and having everything he ever wanted, a child, a family.

She was lost in her own thoughts and it wasn't until she felt his finger on the end of her nose, something he did to make her smile, that she met his eyes and heard what he was trying to say, “I understand if this is going to be too much, if you wanna get the heck out of Dodge...”

She interrupted to ask, “Get the heck out of Dodge? I do not understand.”

“That's one for DiNozzo to explain. He's probably got it on dvd. What I mean is, I know this isn't what you bargained for and if you want to walk away I understand. But I...” he closed his eyes as his words dropped off.

“You what, Jethro?”

That sad little smile was back on his face as his eyes met hers, “I don't want to lose you.”

She clambered to her knees and took his face in her hands and kissed him gently, and whispered, “I am not going anywhere.”

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly, and when he finally let her go he asked sheepishly, “Still gonna cook me dinner?”

And after a leisurely prepared dinner and a very strong pot of coffee, he was much more himself. And he took her upstairs and proved to her that she was the one he wanted, proved it to her with his hands and his mouth and his body, and especially with his arms as he held her protectively as they drifted off to sleep.

---------------
tbc...

The next couple of weeks were busy. Stephanie rented a house a few blocks away from Gibbs', close enough that if she needed him, he could be there quickly, but not so close as to be on top of each other. He told her he was seeing someone, not who, but that it was a serious relationship. He had wanted that clear from the beginning, no surprises, no expectations. Stephanie understood, she hadn't come back to Washington to force fit herself back in his life, and in truth she was amazed at how supportive and there for her he was actually being. But this other woman had her a little curious, Jethro was being extremely possessive and protective about this new relationship, something unusual for him and it made her wonder.

He and Ziva had settled into almost an domestic bliss, or as close to one as the two of them would ever get. They were both very passionate people, and strong, and neither had the time or inclination for the games so many people played in relationships. They teased, they laughed, they supported each other, and they also argued the paint off the walls on a couple of occasions. But they kept the fight about the issue at hand and didn't make it personal and later on when their tempers had cooled, the making up was as scorching as the argument had been.

The only people outside of Ziva at the office to know about the baby were Ducky and Jenny. Ducky was one of his oldest friends, and was also someone he could ask any and all of the medical questions about Stephanie's pregnancy that worried him. Ducky was thrilled for Jethro, and he wondered if Stephanie and the baby were the cause of the more relaxed Gibbs they were seeing at the office lately, little did Ducky know, that that was more Ziva's doing than Stephanie's. Jenny he had to tell as his boss, because he was going to need paternity leave, and some hours here and there for doctor visits. On the surface she was happy for him, knowing how much he loved children, but he could also see the hurt in her eyes that it wasn't her.

Stephanie had had other ultrasounds in her pregnancy back in Philadelphia, and they showed all was well with her and the baby, but she hadn't wanted to know the sex of the baby. The first ultrasound that Gibbs accompanied her to at the new obstetrician's office had the doctor asking if they wanted to know. It took Stephanie giving his arm a shake to pull his attention away from the little screen showing the grainy picture of the baby, he had missed out on all this stuff with Kelly because he had been deployed and he was just amazed. Stephanie laughed at his pole axed look then repeated what the doctor asked. Gibbs honestly didn't care one way or another if it were a girl or a boy, he just wanted a healthy baby. They decided they wanted to be surprised and the doctor chuckled to herself, wondering which one of the two would be calling her office first to renege on that. She printed out a couple of snapshots from the ultrasound and as Stephanie wiped at the gel on her extended abdomen, she just shook her head at the sight of the big tough Marine with what she would have sworn was a tear threatening to fall as he looked at the little pictures in awe.

When he had dropped Stephanie off at her home and headed back into the office, his normal all-business face was back in place. Or at least it was until Ziva met his eyes from her desk. She knew about the appointment and wanted to know how it went, and if everything were okay with both Stephanie and the baby. With a little jerk of his head they made their way to the elevator. He flipped his favorite switch and turned to her with an enormous smile on his face as he pulled out the ultrasound photo. As she looked at the photo it all became very real for Ziva, Gibbs was going to be a father again, there was going to be a little person in his life, in his heart. And any lingering doubt she might have been feeling about her place in his life was blown away when he tucked a finger under her chin and exuberantly claimed her mouth. The kiss also blew away a rule they had set for themselves when they first started seeing each other, that there wouldn't be any inappropriate contact while they were on the job. But as she kissed him back, she saw the happiness in his eyes, as if everything in his life had finally fallen into place.

---------------

Stephanie found out about Gibbs and Ziva as she entered her eighth month. Three weeks prior Gibbs had helped her paint and put together the nursery and she stopped a craft store to get some baby themed stencils and craft paints to finish the room. She had wandered into the yarn section, a little wistfully, her sister had mastered knitting years ago, she just never had the inclination, but now as she fingered the soft yarn in the pastel baby colors, she wished she had. Stephanie turned to leave the aisle when she saw someone that was familiar at the other end. Ziva. She approached and said hello. To say that Ziva was surprised would have been an understatement, and in her shock she dropped one of the skeins of the pale blue yarn she was holding, yarn that she picked because it matched Gibbs eyes exactly.

“Hello, Ms. Flynn.” Ziva managed to get out as she ungracefully tried to pick up the skein she dropped while not losing the rest of them.

Stephanie smiled, “Please call me Stephanie. I wasn't sure you would remember me.”

Still rather in shock, Ziva could only think to mumble, “I rarely forget people, it is part of my training.”

Stephanie chuckled, “Yeah, I guess it would be.” She motioned to the yarn in Ziva's hands, “Do you knit?”

“This? Oh, I, yes, I, ah, learned a long time ago. I needed something that I could do quietly with my hands while on surveillance operations.”

“My sister knits, she tried to teach me, but I think I'm hopeless.”

“It just takes practice, and patience, and more practice.”

Stephanie looked to the yarn Ziva was holding, “That's a pretty blue,” she didn't mention that it was the exact color of Jethro's eyes, eyes she hoped that the baby inherited, “are you making a blanket?”

Ziva looked down at the yarn with a little grin, “No, actually it is for a sweater I am making for a... friend.”

Stephanie caught the slight hesitation, and realized that the recipient of that sweater was a little more than a friend. But she let it go.

Having exhausted the conversation, they had said their goodbyes and Stephanie hadn't thought about it until she had knocked at Gibbs door to give him the notarized power of attorney papers that they had both decided that he needed and saw him wearing an obviously handmade sweater in blue yarn that exactly matched his eyes. It only took a moment for it to all come together in her mind. His secrecy about his relationship, Ziva's hesitancy at the craft store and why although Ziva was surprised to see her, she wasn't surprised to see that Stephanie was pregnant. And she flashed back to Moscow and an old memory, and it all completely fell into place for her.

She smirked, imitating one of his best “I know something you don't” looks and teased, “Leroy Jethro Gibbs, you have some explaining to do, mister.”

When he looked at her in confusion he said, “What did I do now?”

She reached up and brushed a little wood shaving off his shoulder, “Ziva is not going to be very happy you're wearing that while you work on that boat of yours.”

---------------
tbc...

A/N: Warning for character death and significant angst in this section

---------------

Gibbs didn't know what to say, or how she knew, and he just stood there with a deer in the headlights look on his face.

Stephanie couldn't contain her mirth and she laughed, then took pity on him. “I met up with Ziva at the craft store, when she was buying the yarn to make that,” she gestured towards his sweater.

Gibbs had dropped his eyes, not quite sure how to explain this all away. “Steph...”

“Jethro, I know you too well. So don't try and give me some lame story. Ziva is the person you've been seeing, isn't she?”

He sighed and looked up, “Yeah, we started a few weeks before you came back to town.”

“Is it serious?” she asked, wanting a real answer.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Good.” she said with approval.

Approval which shocked him, “Good?”

Her face took on a gentle look and said, “Jethro, I have never seen you happier. Ever. And I know at least half of it is the baby, but I'd be willing to bet that Ziva is the other half.”

He tugged absently on his ear, “You don't seem surprised.”

“I haven't forgotten Eleni. Ziva reminds me of her.”

A bolt of pain went through Gibbs at the mention of the name, and he flashed back to Moscow.

---------------

Eleni Bourikas was a beautiful spy of Greek descent, or a “broker of information” as she called herself, and one with a high set of morals. And she and Gibbs had worked well together during Gibbs' tenure in Moscow. The two of them had much in common, similar senses of honor and duty, same short tempers and same senses of humor, although Eleni was a little more lighthearted than Gibbs, and she would quip little jokes at the most inappropriate times, just to make Gibbs smile. There was an almost tangible attraction between the two, one that they never acknowledged or explored.

But big things were afoot in Moscow, and Eleni knew too much. And although he tried, Gibbs couldn't protect her. The night before she was killed Eleni visited Gibbs. They went out into the garage with a bottle of vodka and talked about nonsensical things, both knowing that the hit on Eleni was coming, they just didn't know when, and there was just no way of extracting her from Moscow. The vodka made them loose, and the walls of their self-imposed inhibitions were tumbling. And try as he might, Gibbs couldn't remember who made the first move, but he remembered vividly the passion in the kiss, and the feel of Eleni's lithe body against his. When the kiss ended, the tears had started, tears Gibbs had never felt ashamed of crying. They had simply clung to each other, wrapped each other's arms. They never knew that Stephanie had stuck her head in the garage to ask them if they wanted something to eat, and saw that tearful embrace. She had simply left them alone, and never mentioned it. And the next day Eleni was dead. And a piece of Jethro died with her. Stephanie never asked, and he certainly never told her, but she suspected that Jethro had something to do with the three Russians that ended up dead with sniper bullets in their brains in the days following Eleni's murder.

Those events had been the beginning of the end of their stay in Moscow, and sadly, the beginning of the end of their marriage as well.

---------------

Gibbs and Stephanie did something that if they had done it years ago might have saved their marriage, they talked. Talked about Eleni and Moscow, and Ziva and how the three of them fit together in the baby's life. And at her insistence he flipped open his cell phone and called Ziva, and as Stephanie listened to the one sided conversation she wondered with a grin what Ziva's expression was on the other end, “Still picking up steaks for dinner?” “Better make it three, Stephanie's here,” “We all need to talk.” “Yeah, she knows.” Jethro laughed, “The sweater you made me gave it away.” “See you in a while.”

He turned to Stephanie with a smirk, “I think we just gave her her first gray hair.”

Dinner went well once Ziva realized that Stephanie really was okay with their relationship. And over the course of the next couple of weeks she and Stephanie got to know each other better. The beginnings of their own friendship starting when Ziva had shown up at her house with a bag full of yarn and knitting needles and a beginner's pattern book. She intended to teach Stephanie how to knit. Stephanie had made them both dinner and afterwards they sat and started the knitting lesson. And as they talked and laughed together she could see what attracted Jethro to Ziva, she was a warm and fun person, and she reminded Stephanie of Eleni, and in some ways of a younger Jethro. Ziva also popped in and took Stephanie out, just for ice cream or a movie, things to get her out of the house a little. She had picked up on the fact that Stephanie was a little lonely and tried in small ways to alleviate it. Their friendship also seemed to have a positive effect on Jethro, he was even more relaxed at home, and he was also somewhat relieved that there was someone else that Stephanie could call in an emergency. They were a family, not necessarily a run of the mill family, but a family none the less.

---------------

As her due date grew closer both Gibbs and Ziva started almost obsessively checking their cell phones, making sure they had a signal and no missed calls from Stephanie. They were both waiting for that call in the middle of the night, the one that told them that their little one was ready to make his or her grand appearance. That was not the phone call they received.

Ziva and Gibbs had just fallen into bed after a shower, when Gibbs' cell phone on the nightstand rang, he took one look at the caller id and sat straight up, Stephanie. He flipped it open quickly, “Hey.”

All he heard her say before he heard the phone on the other end hit the floor was, “Jethro, something's wrong...”

“STEPHANIE,” he shouted into his cell, but all he could hear was her moaning in the background. He said quickly to Ziva, “Call an ambulance,” as he threw on his pants, his cell still in his ear, “Steph, I'm coming, I'm on my way, stay on the phone. I'm coming.”

---------------

No matter how fast he tried to move, or get the paramedics to move, everything seemed to be going in slow motion. He and Ziva had found her lying on the kitchen floor, deep in shock and unresponsive. The paramedics arrived right behind them. And then they were somehow all at the emergency room, and the doctors were cutting off her t-shirt and slapping monitor leads all over her, the words “possible placental abruption” thrown around repeatedly.

One of the monitors started blaring, showing a flat line on her heart rate, and the doctor shouted, “We're losing her, we need to do a c-section now.”

It had taken two nurses and Ziva's firm hand around him to get Gibbs out of the room. He was in his own kind shock, this just couldn't be happening, he couldn't loose another child, another family.

Jethro was not a religious man, his faith something private, just between him and his maker. But he never prayed harder in his life than he did in those horrifying, long minutes out in the hallway.

As the minutes ticked by, Ziva's hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping him from losing it altogether. And then they heard it, the strong cry of a baby, and relief washed over both of them and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Their relief was short lived, however, as the doctor came out into the hallway, his scrubs splattered with blood, Stephanie's blood, his expression grave.

“It was a placental abruption, basically the placenta detached from the wall of the uterus. We did a cesarean section and delivered the baby. He's doing well and you can see him soon. But I am sorry, we lost his mother. She had lost too much blood too quickly and there was just nothing we could do. I am so sorry, we did everything we could.”

Ziva saw the tears in Gibbs eyes through her own blurry vision, and the sad, little smile as Gibbs whispered, “It's a boy?”

The doctor nodded and as if to affirm his presence in the world, they heard the baby let out another good howl in the other room. The doctor told them that given that the baby was near full term that there shouldn't be any issues that normally plague premature births. He had also been monitored carefully before the delivery and that he had not shown any significant signs of stress, all of which were good signs.

Gibbs nodded through it all, and as the doctor turned to go check on the baby he heard Gibbs ask quietly, “Can I see Stephanie?”

The doctor escorted him to her bedside and had the nurses in the room excuse them, and then he left Gibbs alone with her. Jethro reached down and smoothed her hair, hair that he had spent many nights playing with as she laid on his chest. His thumb ran over her lips, and he remembered their first kiss, and their last. He cupped her cheek and and the tears flowed down his face he whispered to her, “It's a boy, Steph. We have a son. That's him hollering in the other room. Wonder which one of us he gets that from, huh?” The tightness in his chest was making it hard for him to breath, and he felt the sobs threatening to start, “I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to be like this.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly, “I love you, Stephanie.” He could have made her promises to love and raise their son, but those were promises that never had to be verbalized.

Jethro walked back out into the hallway a broken man, his pain and grief evident in his every move. His eyes met Ziva's and he let Ziva's arms wrap around him and hold him tight as he fought his emotions. He didn't care who saw them, he needed to feel Ziva's heart beating against his, needed the security he found in her embrace.

He croaked out against Ziva's neck, “She's gone, Ziva.”

Ziva's hand found its way to cradle Gibbs' head and she whispered through her own tears, “I know.”

“What are we going to do?”

Ziva pulled back a bit and took Jethro's face in her hands and meeting his eyes said very seriously, “Raise your son, and make sure he knows what a beautiful and amazing woman his mother was.”

Gibbs nodded numbly. And a nurse waving caught Ziva's attention, they could see the baby.

---------------
tbc...

As they entered the room, both of them tried not to think about the fact that Stephanie was lying in the adjoining room. There were a couple of nurses and a middle aged woman in a white lab coat gathered around a clear acrylic bassinet that held a very unhappy baby who was shrilly vocalizing his displeasure at being poked and prodded.

Gibbs looked at his son in awe, his feet frozen to the floor. There was a little thatch of reddish brown hair and he wondered if his son was going to be a carrot top like his mother. Ziva gave him a little nudge from behind making him step closer.

The doctor looked up and smiled gently, "You're the father?"

He simply nodded in response and the doctor introduced herself, "I'm Doctor Anderson the on-call pediatrician. Your son is doing very well. He's not very happy with us at the moment, but he's doing just fine. He was monitored carefully, and though his oxygen saturation level was a little low at delivery it was well within the safe zone and right now it's perfect. He's got all his fingers and all his toes, and as you can hear, a good healthy set of lungs. I want to keep him here for a couple of days just to monitor him." She paused sadly, and continued with a compassionate tone, "And I know you've probably got some arrangements to make at home. I'm very sorry for your loss."

She efficiently wrapped the baby up in the soft blanket he was lying on and asked gently, "Would you like to hold him?"

Gibbs stared at the baby in her hands, half afraid to touch him, as if somehow he would also be ripped away from Gibbs like so many others had been.

Ziva could see the hesitancy in Gibbs and she was well versed enough in reading Gibbs' emotions to know where it was coming from, so she took action. She grabbed the hard plastic chair from the corner and set it down behind Gibbs and with a little squeeze to Gibbs shoulder she ordered lightly, "Sit."

And surprisingly, Gibbs did just that. And with sure hands that were in complete opposite to the nervousness he felt to his core, Gibbs took his squalling son from the doctor. He couldn't help but smirk a little at the baby's irritated expression, it was pure Stephanie, and as he gently ran a calloused finger over the baby's cheek he chided, "Shush, what's all this racket about, huh?"

And when that didn't work, he expertly tucked the baby up near his neck and gently patted him, and to the relief of everyone's ears in the room, the baby quieted down almost instantly.

Gibbs felt Ziva standing behind him, her hand still on Gibbs' shoulder, it was comforting and reassuring. And he heard Ziva say, "Since I am pretty sure we cannot keep calling him "the baby" his whole life, what did you two decide to name him?"

Gibbs swallowed hard, trying not to picture Stephanie's luminescent smile as they had bickered over names, it had been fun and playful and had reminded him of why he had fallen for her all those years ago. But in the end they had actually agreed on a pair of names, one for a girl, one for a boy, since they still didn't know the sex of the baby. And they had kept the names a secret just between the two of them, not even telling Ziva.

He looked up at Ziva with a wane little smile and replied, "Donald Jethro Gibbs."

Ziva smiled widely, "After Ducky?"

Gibbs nodded, "Yeah, he introduced us you know."

"I did not know that, and I am sure Ducky will be thrilled."

Gibbs gently kissed the baby's temple and smiled again, "But you know, knowing your mom, I bet she would have ended up calling you DJ."

He settled the baby back down in the crook of his arm and just looked at him, his mind spinning as he tried to think about all the things he needed to do all at once.

Ziva stepped around to the front of him and crouched down to get an up close view of the littlest Gibbs. She smiled and reached out hesitantly to touch the baby's little hand that he had snuck out of his blanket, marveling at how small his little fingers actually were. Ziva's experience with babies in general was limited, and she had absolutely none with newborns, and she was just amazed.

Gibbs took in the awed expression on Ziva's face and smiled, he'd almost forgotten how new all of this actually was to her and he said, "Your turn. Sit," as he stood up.

Ziva's eyes flashed in panic, "What? Oh, no, really, I am fine just watching you, Gibbs, really I am."

Gibbs couldn't help but chuckle and said again, "Sit."

And with a playful grimace, she did just that, and Gibbs carefully placed the baby in Ziva's arms.

Gibbs' protective and possessive streak about the baby had been apparent about thirty seconds after Stephanie had told him it was his baby. And Gibbs could almost see it flare up in Ziva right before his eyes as the baby settled into her arms without a peep. Little DJ had no way of knowing, but even though he might have lost his mother, he still had two people that would love and cherish him, and two people that would protect him, no matter what the cost.

Doctor Anderson took in the interaction between the two and realized that their relationship was a lot more than met the eye. And she could see that there was genuine affection between them, it was evident in all of their actions, and seeing that lessened the sting of the loss of the baby's mother just a little in her eyes.

A few minutes later, she interrupted them so that they could bring DJ up and get him settled in the pediatric ward. Gibbs nodded and he took the baby from Ziva and placed him safely in the bassinet for his trip up in the elevator. He turned to Ziva, "Can you go with him? I need to call Stephanie's sister."

Ziva let out a sigh, "Yes. You should probably call Ducky as well."

"Yeah," Gibbs replied sadly. Ziva gave his bicep a quick squeeze before she left to follow Dr. Anderson and crew upstairs.

Gibbs went outside, wanting to be in the fresh air while he made the calls. He took a deep breath and flipped his phone open. He hit a speed dial and when the line picked up he said, "Shelly? It's Jethro..."

---------------
tbc...