He's sitting next to her in a bar. He watches her carefully, as she downs another shot. She notices him staring at her.

"What?" she questions defensively.

"Something is bothering you."

"Why do you think that?"

"You don't usually drink this much. You don't usually accept my invitation to go out for drinks."

"What do I have to lose?"

"Ziva, tell me what's bothering you."

"I have been inside my head too much lately."

"That bothers you?"

"The things that I have been thinking about, they bother me."

"Like what?"

"I keep having a recurring dream."

"About what?"

"It does not matter."

"It does, tell me."

"I can't."

"Ziva I'm your partner. I know just about everything there is to know about you."

"I know."

"So what's that look for?"

"I keep dreaming about a baby," she admits, as she motions for the bartender to bring her another drink.

"Why do you think that is?"

"Because my subconscious hates me."

"What is your subconscious telling you?"

She looks at him, and then at her drink. She swallows the shot, and slams the glass on the counter. She focuses on him.

"I cannot explain why, or where the thought is coming from, but I think I want a baby," she admits.

He looks into her dark eyes. He sees something he hadn't noticed before. "Ok," he answers.

"Ok? You are not going to ask me why? You are not going to ask me how?"

"If you truly want a baby, you'll have one."

"With who? Who am I going to have a baby with?"

"You don't have to have a person."

"Babies do not just fall from the heavens."

"What would you like me to say here?"

"Talk me out of it."

"Maybe I don't want to."

"I can't have a baby. Not by myself. There is no candidate to have one with."

"Do you want the whole thing, or do you just want a baby?"

"I do not know."

"So just pick some random guy up at the bar, and..." he begins.

She cuts him off, "I do not want the father of my child to be some random person. With my luck I would chose a serial killer, or worse, a politician."

"Ziva do you have someone in mind?"

"No," she lies.

"Why don't we have a baby?"

"Together?" she raises an eyebrow.

"I'm five drinks in, and it sounds pretty reasonable to me, right now."

"You do not like children," she reminds him.

"It's different when it's your child," he points out as he motions for the bartender to bring him another drink.

"We cannot just have a baby together. It is not that simple."

"Why can't it be? You would like to have a child, I would like to have a child..."

She cuts him off, "You would like a child, someday."

"I'm not getting any younger, and if I keep waiting for the perfect timing, it will never happen."

"You're serious?"

"Yes," he nods.

"Why are you agreeing to this?"

"Maybe it's the booze, but it makes sense. You want a child, I want a child, so we'll have one together. Do you have a better candidate? You should have a child with someone who you trust. Someone who you'd trust your life with, your child's life with."

"I hate when I can't win an argument," she admits.

"And why is that?"

"Because you make a very good point."

"So let's have some more drinks, and then go make a baby."

"Tonight?"

"There is not time like the present," he points out.

The bartender brings them several more drinks. An hour and a half later they leave the bar.