Buried In the Snow

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Summary: Even with Israel in their past, the oldest daughter of Mossad's director and the Ambassador's only son have no choice but to deal the cards dealt. But what happens when people from their past come back to haunt them? They'll question everything they know, and make a decision that just may tear their family apart. Picks up a week after where Beat of Your Heart left off. I recommend reading Finding Home and Beat of Your Heart for reference.

The walls were a soft, delicate blue, the nursery furniture carved lovingly of beautiful pine.

She chuckled.

When Gibbs had first agreed to make the furniture, she had told him it was for Tali, that she was having another baby, and wanted it to be kept a secret. That they needed to keep it at their place before taking it to her sister's. In reality, it had been for them, but Gibbs hadn't known that. And after they'd revealed their pregnancy at the barbecue a week ago, Gibbs was the only one that hadn't been surprised. He'd even told both sisters that suddenly, everything asked of him suddenly made sense.

A moment passed, before she settled in the rocking chair by the window, and gently let her hands caress her belly. Twenty-one weeks; it didn't seem possible, but she was. And she was showing a lot quicker than she had with Asher. She hadn't shown with her oldest until she was twenty weeks; she'd started showing with Liron when she was about thirteen weeks; with this baby, she'd been showing even sooner.

Seven weeks.

Just a bit of a tummy, but still, she'd had to bring her maternity clothes out early.

Of course, the boys were excited beyond measure to have a little girl joining the family. And Ziva had to admit, she was grateful too. Finally, there would be a bit more estrogen in the household; not that her boys were so wild- in all, they were fairly tame and calm compared to most little boys- but still, it would be nice to have a daughter. And Tim... she chuckled. Tim would have a field day.

He had been the one to suggest the music box with the ballerina, that rested atop the dresser. It played 'Waltz of the Sugar Plum Fairy' from The Nutcracker- the show Tim had taken her to see the Christmas before. Ziva of course had loved it, and the boys had fairly enjoyed it as well, especially the battle with the Mouse King. She had even mentioned wanting to be a ballerina when she'd been a kid, and Tim had run with the idea. The music box had been his gift for her; saying that if their daughter was anything like her mother, she'd enjoy the arts just as much. Ziva, of course, had been touched deeply.

After a moment, she got up, leaving the nursery and going to their room. She pulled a chest out of the closet and set it on the bed, taking a seat on the edge to open it. It was one of the three chests her grandfather had made for her before he died. Memory chests, as her mother had called them, to house the mementos of her pregnancy- photographs, letters, baby toys, shoes, clothing, anything and everything she associated with her pregnancy. And she never thought she would use the last one.

Slowly, she lifted out a folded sheet of paper. A letter.

'Dear Tim,

I have something I need to tell you, something very important. It affects both our futures. You are going to be a father, again. We are going to have another baby. I can only hope this one will be as lucky as our boys, and have your beautiful eyes.

- Ziva'

It seemed ridiculous, for her to write to her husband, but considering this tradition was started when she was pregnant with Asher and confined to Be'er Sheva, she felt that she needed to carry it through. She'd done the same when she'd been pregnant with Liron, and would do the same with this baby. If she stopped, it wouldn't be fair to either her or the baby- why should her brothers get letters and not her? Gently, she laid a hand on her belly, reading the words that sent her heart fluttering.

"Zi?" She looked up; speak of the devil and he doth appear. Tim leaned into the bedroom, watching her, his green eyes filled with concern. "Everything all right?" She nodded, putting the letter away.

"Of course, why would it not be?" He shrugged, coming into the room and sitting beside her. His arms instantly wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her back into his embrace.

"Just worried about you. You've been awful quiet the last few days." She shrugged, reaching up and taking his hand in hers.

"Just thinking." She nodded, a smile on her face, moving his hands down so they gently caressed her belly. They settled in silence for several minutes, before she asked, "Are you going to get another tattoo?" He nodded. "Where? Your wrists are being used." He chuckled.

"You'll find out." Gently, he pressed a kiss to her head as she lifted her blouse, exposing her belly. "Do you think she would be happy?"

"Who?" Ziva sat up, turning to her husband. Her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips, trying to think of something to say. "Who would be happy?" Tim sighed.

"Your mother." He whispered. "Do you think Rivka would be happy?" He reached out, laying a hand gently on her belly. "Seeing our boys and knowing that we have a little girl on the way?" Ziva watched her husband, thinking. Then, she laid a hand over his, gently caressing his fingers before meeting his eyes again, a small smile on her lips.

"I think... that Ima would be... overjoyed."