A/N: This is written for the NFA L.O.V.E. Challenge, and I was relieved that romantic love was not required for it. :) I decided to try something a bit different and so this one stars Ziva and Ducky and is set early in season 7.
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, made money on my stories. I do not own NCIS. Alas.
What is Love?
by Enthusiastic Fish
Set at the beginning of season 7...
The doors to Autopsy whooshed open.
"I'll be with you in just a moment, Jethro!" Ducky called. "Mr. Palmer called in sick this morning and I'm not quite at 100 percent efficiency."
"I am not Gibbs, Ducky."
Ducky turned around quickly.
"Ziva. I am surprised. What brings you down here? We've just completed a case. All the remains for me is to send in my forms and official statement of cause of death."
"It is not about the case, Ducky."
"Then, what is it, my dear?"
"I am...confused," Ziva said, trying to sound nonchalant...and failing. "I do not feel that there is anyone else I would trust with this question. So I would like to ask you."
"I will do my level best to answer it."
"What is love?"
Ducky furrowed his brow. "In what respect?"
"Other languages differentiate among types of love. In English, you use the same word to describe enjoyment of food or clothing as you do to describe a human connection. And yet, there does not seem to be any real...confusion. So...what is love?"
"I'm not sure I'm following. The word love is quite old, having its origins in Middle English. Before that, in Old English, the word was lufu, and in Old High German, it was luba...which, interestingly enough, traces back even further as a cognate with the Latin word lubere which means 'to be pleasing'. That is the word love. In English, it is quite versatile as a word."
"It is not versatile, Ducky," Ziva said with some irritation. "It is confusing."
Ducky gave a tolerant smile. "Then, why don't you come with me. We'll have some tea and you can tell me what this is really about."
Ziva flushed but nodded. Ducky began to ready himself to leave, clearing out his desk, making sure there was nothing out. All the remained was his report, but he decided that could wait until later. He was nearly done anyway. Then, he put on his coat and gave Ziva his arm. She smiled and allowed him to conduct her out of Autopsy. They stopped at her desk only long enough for her to grab her own coat. Then, they slipped out of NCIS without fanfare.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"What will you have, Ms. David?" Ducky asked as they sat down in a quiet corner of the tea shop.
"You may choose for me. I will trust your judgment."
"You're putting much on my lap, I must say."
Ziva smiled. "I am not expecting too much."
"So you say." Ducky returned the smile and ordered a cup of tea for each of them. "Now, tell me what's on your mind."
"I am...confused."
"As you said before. Confused about love. Let us not repeat what we've already said."
Ziva laughed.
"I am...not sure how to explain it."
"Is this about love you wish to give or to receive?"
"It is..." She sighed. "I have thought I was loved many times, Ducky, but it has never been real. How does one determine what love is real...and what is not? It is the same word whether the love is true or false. I may express love, but though the word is said, it does not mean the same. So...what is it about this word love that I am not understanding?"
Ducky smiled, but sympathetically this time.
"I think, Ziva, that you're trying to simplify something that is quite complicated. It is not the word. It is the emotion behind it."
"Yes...but it is the word in front."
"True enough. However, don't simplify it. You're asking much more about emotion, not words."
"Maybe," Ziva said softly. She took a sip of the cup.
"May I ask you a question in return?"
"Of course."
"What type of love is it you are wondering about?"
"Any."
"But is there a particular relationship you are wondering about?"
"Perhaps."
Ducky set down his teacup. He leaned forward and took Ziva's hands in his own. There were few outward signs of her recent experiences, but there was still a shadow in her eyes. ...and confusion.
"Your father?"
Ziva's eyes dropped to the table.
"It is no shame to be confused, my dear."
"He has said he loved me...called me his daughter. ...and raised me to be a killer, and then left me to be killed. He has used me. But at the same time, he said he loved me."
There was a moment of silence.
"So...Ducky...what is love?"
"I would like to ask you one more question. Do you love your father?"
"I would have said yes a year ago without hesitating...but even then, I would have wondered if he really felt the same. My father loved me when I was a child, when I could not be used."
"And now?"
"Now...I do not know. I have all the facts. I know that Mossad was looking for me...but only months later. Was it out of resignation? Out of fear that I would betray them? Or...out of love for a daughter? ...but I know my father. He is not swayed by things like emotions."
"I do not know your father, Ziva. I can't speak to such things, but if your father loved you when you were a child, I would guess that he loves you now...even if he places other things ahead of that love. I am not trying to say it makes it good or bad, but it may be the truth."
Ziva shook her head and pulled her hands away. "I have had too many times when I did not understand what was meant by love. Too many times when my desire to feel that love led only to betrayal. ...and too many times when my own misunderstanding led me to betray others. I cannot understand this word...and I cannot understand what is behind it. I feel that...that this love which is spoken of so often is not worth it. It is not worth understanding."
Ducky lifted Ziva's chin. "But you do understand it, Ziva. Love is what brought you out of Somalia. Love is what has kept you here rather than returning to Israel. ...and love is what took you back to Israel months before."
Ziva said nothing, but her eyes begged to be convinced.
"Love of your teammates. Not romantic, but love for one another. That trust and devotion to preserving each other's safety. It is not love of a usual sort, but little else could have brought Anthony and Timothy to your side. ...and it is your love of this place that has kept you here. Love for the people, love for the safety and security you feel in a world that does not ask that you be a killer in order to be valuable. Love for your father, love for your own country...and perhaps even a kind of love for the man who was killed. Those took you back to Israel, but now you're here again. You understand love...but you fear losing it again."
"There is so much that could be lost, Ducky."
"Yes...and there is so much to gain. You simply need to decide what it is you truly want. That will remove much of your confusion."
Ziva looked around the tea shop in silence. She sat back in her chair and ran light fingers around the edge of the teacup.
"I never thought of going back to Israel."
"Where did you want to go?"
"Here. This is my home, Ducky." She gave a tentative smile. "I may just love it."
Ducky chuckled. "Then, you should take the steps required to keep it."
"I cannot tell this to the others."
"Perhaps not yet, but there may be a time when it is appropriate. For now, you can tell them simply that you are becoming an agent. In order to achieve that, you will have to be an American citizen."
Ziva blinked at him. "Yes, I knew...but I had not really considered it in that way. It was just a step, a hoop."
"It can be more than that if you wish it to be. Any love can be more and is worth fighting for."
Ziva nodded slowly but said nothing either for or against Ducky's declaration. She finished her tea.
Finally, they stood to leave. Ducky conducted her back to NCIS and then returned to Autopsy to complete his report.
Love could be messy and uncertain, but it was always worth, no matter what kind of love it was.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Ziva sat down at her computer and went to a site she'd already visited a number of times. This time, as she clicked a familiar link, she looked at the information more carefully.
"When you decide to become a U.S. citizen, you should be willing to fulfill the responsibilities of citizenship."
Was this really what she wanted?
Then, she thought of those she had seen appearing before her after months of despair. They had been American faces. They had been friends she had not realized she still had. Friends. People she...loved.
With a smile, Ziva felt some of the confusion start to fade and she read through the rest of the guide to becoming a U.S. citizen.
She might not understand love, but she could understand this.
FINIS!