warning: contains a curse word

"You're late."

"I had a doctor's appointment."

Tony slams a hand against the emergency button almost instantly, causing the elevator to screech to a shuddering halt.

"Oh, come on." I groan under my breath.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His brows quips in question.

My lips purse into a thin line. "Let me guess: because this is the first time you've spoken to me in days?"

"Does being the father mean nothing nowadays?"

"Only if you refuse to speak to the mother."

Tony lightly brushes a hand through his unkempt hair, exhaling a heavy breath while staring at the ground.

"We're gonna be late."

"Why didn't you tell me when you found out that you were pregnant?"

"Gibbs is gonna —"

"I don't give a fuck about what Gibbs has to say." He huffs out rather aggressively. "I'm your husband, Ev. And the father of the baby."

"I know. I had this whole elaborate plan of putting a dinner roll in the oven. You know, a bun in the oven? And then Gibbs called to tell me you were in the hospital —"

"You've known since then?"

"Tony, I would have told you, but you've been going through so much —"

"And you thought me knowing you're pregnant wouldn't be relatively important information?"

". . .not in the moment, no."

And for the first time in days, Tony softens his gaze. His body slightly slumps from being so rigid, and his tone changes.

"You will always matter more."

He lifts his hands to cup my cheeks.

"Eva, you're pregnant."

He brushes away the stray tears across my cheeks and gently smiles, pressing a soft yet passion-filled kiss to my lips.

"You're gonna be a mom."

"And you're gonna be a dad."

"Gibbs is gonna kick our asses for being late, isn't he?"

"I can almost guarantee it."

"I promise to take you to the next appointment."

"And every single one thereafter."

With a few more kisses, he pushes the button and allows the elevator to resume movement. Upon the doors opening, Gibbs stands waiting while McGee and Ziva are frozen in their places.

"Got a case?"

"Nope."

"So you don't need us?"

"Nah."

Without another word, Gibbs takes our spot in the elevator and heads out. The other two are still paused in movement, to which I cock a brow.

"You know you can go back to whatever you were doing, right?"

"Good to know."

Tony silently pecks my temple and runs the lightest of hands over my abdomen before retreating to his desk. The hint of a smile tinges at my lips, and I ghost my own hand over the particular area.

"Sterling entered the facility at 12:14 A.M. this morning, a mere two hours after he disappeared from the fast food restaurant."

"He downloaded a single file inside and erased the file header once he'd logged out."

"McGee said it was just a bunch of numbers. He thinks it's accounting-related, maybe a budget. He and Abby are working on it right now."

Gibbs and Fornell discuss their thoughts until Tony makes a snide comment. They turn the matter onto him when both agree to appoint him to be the one to talk to Diane about Victor.

And me as a mediator.

"And you've had absolutely no contact with your husband since the last phone call?"

The redheaded woman slams a hand against the table. "I have already told you no. This is such a waste of time. Where are Tobias and Leroy?"

". . .Leroy?" Tony beams brighter than ever with an evergleaming grin.

"Yes, Leroy."

"What a terrible name."

The two glance over to where I'm fiddling with my thumbs, and my eyes widen at the realization that I spoke out loud.

"For the love of God, please don't mention it to Gibbs."

"Too late."

I bite the tip of my tongue and swivel in the conference chair, grinning up at Gibbs with an innocent and apologetic smile.

"Have I told you how much I adore the name?"

"Leroy. What's with the twenty questions from your agents?"

"Gibbs!"

Abby hurriedly enters the room with a panting breath.

"We were able to identify the data that Victor downloaded. It was just numbers, but it wasn't a budget. It was a recipe."

"For what?"

"For a virus. One that could kill a lot of people."

Once Abby takes Fornell and Gibbs down to her lab, McGee and Ziva take over babysitting the ex-wife, leaving me and Tony to sit idly in the bullpen.

"Feeling alright?"

"Just a little tired, nothing terrible."

He hums lightly under his breath, approaching my table slowly. "So. . ."

"So?"

"Gibbs knew about the baby before I did?"

"Tony —"

"Old man L.J. Gibbs knew about my kid before their own father?"

"You know how he is. Knew the day you were in the hospital. He didn't have to guess; he just knew." I huff a breath.

The agent falls into a tumbling spiral before my very eyes. "How come I didn't figure it out? Am I a bad agent? Am I a bad husband? Wait, does this mean I'm a bad —"

"You're a fantastic agent, a splendid husband. . ." My hands secure over his shoulders. "And you will be the best father. Do you hear me?"

Tony hardly nods his head as he captures my lips in a kiss.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Easing my worries, grounding me."

His nose nuzzles my cheek.

"Making me a dad."

"Say it louder, would you? Don't think Mark on the third floor heard you."

As it turns out, Victor's own boss from Homeland Security is found to be the culprit and mastermind behind the planned attack.

"Foot massage when we get home?"

"You're milking this pregnancy for all it's worth, aren't you?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Tony secures an arm around my wait, his other hand carrying both of our bags, as we make our ways toward the elevator.

"I know why you're so sensitive to smells!"

Abby scurries down the squad room, Ziva and McGee in tow. Tony's valiant efforts to make a quick escape through the elevator are for nothing, and the three drag us back to the bullpen.

"Great, so you know." He huffs through a heavy breath. "I knocked up the missus."

"That's exactly — what?"

"You're. . .?"

"You have been hitting Eva?"

Although said at once, each of them responds in their own way: Abby unhinges her jaw, McGee trails off in shock, and Ziva begins to roll the sleeves of her henley.

"I'm pregnant." I speak the words into existence. "Tony and I are gonna be parents."

"Oh." The last of the three holds out the syllable in realization. "You're with child?"

The father-to-be puffs his chest with pride. "Yup."

"That would explain Tony's weight gain"

"Yeah — huh? What weight gain?"

I smooth hand over Tony's button-down while leaning against his touch, relishing in the feeling of pure joy with my family.

THE END.