Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or the characters.

Ziva has many scars.

Our way of doing 'serious' talking in our new relationship, involves her telling me the story of how she got each one of her scars.

I try to start off small.

A tiny little scar on her little finger, it's barely visible because it has faded with age. It is an old scar and so safe to talk about without bringing up Somalia. Neither of us are ready to go there yet, I think.

It is a little scar, a horizontal line, spanning the width of her little finger.

It would have been a deep injury.

It has fascinated me that little scar.

She would be telling me something important, using her hands to punctuate the importance of whatever she was jabbering on about. She uses her hands to articulate what she's saying, usually when she's happy or feeling safe, or drunk… For example, those hands never fly when she's near her father, like butterflies in the wind. I am easily distracted with her hands, and in particular, that little scar.

The scar would catch my eye and hold me.

I fantasise about how she got it.

Her first lesson about how to kill someone with a paper clip.

The first time a guy tried to kiss her and she threatened him with a knife held to his throat and she slipped slightly.

Sprinting away from rapid gun fire over a barbed wire fence and slipping and cutting that little finger on the twisted wire…

I would often be tempted when she growled at me to concentrate, to ask her how she got that scar.

"You know our scar deal sweetheart?"

"Mmhmm." Ziva answered sleepily from beside me, exhausted after our passionate bout of love making.

"Well I know which scar I'm going to start with." I heard a slight groan from the other side of the bed. I watched as she sat up, leaning on her hand so that she could see me better. I grabbed her free hand and splayed open her fingers, gently tracing each one until I came to that infamous little finger. I lowered my lips to trace the scar and was pleased to see that goose bumps had risen along her skin.

I smirked at her.

She glared at me.

So what's new?

"This one." I announced.

"This one?" She asked for confirmation, her eyes flickered to the silver line.

"This one," I confirmed wondering how many more times we were going to go on like this. Ziva scooted further over into my side, and breathed in deeply.

I like to think that she was trying to remember what I smelt like. I know I'm guilty of that.

"Well, I was eleven."

The paperclip story takes the lead.

"And I was at home."

Okay maybe not, but maybe Eli David trained his children young…the very thought made me angry.

"Aww mini Ziva," I tried to deflect, hoping that she didn't notice me stiffen. But not much misses her and she only raised her eye brows at me to let me know that she wasn't fooled, but she didn't press it.

Something else that I love about her.

She understands that there are going to be secrets between us that can not and will not be shared.

"Anyway, as I was saying. I was making dinner and I had to cut up some tomatoes and I accidentally cut myself," she blurted it out as if embarrassed.

I couldn't help it.

I snorted with laughter.

"Eleven years of age and my super assassin cut herself cutting up tomatoes." I managed between laughs.

I should have known that it's a bad idea to laugh at my crazy ninja chick while in bed.

I can't run.

Ziva flipped over so that she was on top of me, pinning me to the bed.

On second thoughts, maybe it wasn't so bad, the view was very good and a certain part of my anatomy was reacting to our sudden distance, or rather, lack thereof.

I gulped.

"Erm, honey bunch."

"Don't call me honey bunch!"

Okay so much for getting back onto her good side.

"If you ever mention this to anyone, I will come and find you and personally show you how I got this scar!" She pinned my hands up above my head.

I nod.

I love it when she gets like this, all fire and passion, it makes the sex so much better.

Ziva relented and gave me control of my hands back. I instantly threaded one through her long dark hair. With the other I began to trace her spine, creating electricity between us wherever I laid my fingers. I waited eagerly as Ziva leant down and fused our lips together in a heated kiss, our tongues battling for dominance.

I think that I may just enjoy these discussions about her scars if they all end like this.

Just between the two of us, of course.

Thank you for reading. I hope that you enjoyed it. Review please?