A/N: this takes place the night after Ziva returns from Somalia. This is sort of my version of what I would have liked to happen between Ziva and Gibbs in their scene during Reunion.
Sorry to Zibbs fans, but this isn't Zibbs, just father/daughter relationship here.
Nope, don't own NCIS. But I soon will…. Ok maybe not but a girl can dream.
And to my TaHH readers, this is just something I thought of a 2 am this morning and I needed a break from TaHH, so I wrote it. At 0200 (see I'm so obsessed I've switched ALL of my clocks to military time lol) TaHH is still being continued. I actually am almost done with chapter 8…
She couldn't be alone tonight.
Too many nights she had spent alone, in that filthy cell, and the ones that she hadn't spent alone were more hell than the ones she had.
She needed someone to hold her, tell her everything would be ok. A shoulder to sigh on, wasn't that he expression?
No, it was a shoulder to cry on.
Which, although she hates to admit it, even to herself, fits this situation a whole lot better than "sigh."
"No!" she commanded herself. "Crying is a sign of weakness. Mossad operatives do not cry."
But the problem was, she didn't know who the hell she was anymore. She was not Mossad, Mossad left her to die in Salim's Somalian hellhole.
Her father had left her to die in Salim's Somalian hellhole.
His work came first, and she knew that. Work before family. His political ranking before his own flesh and blood.
Eli was never a father to her.
But there was someone who had been. And his door was always unlocked.
...
What was she doing here? She had no idea. Sure, just waltz right into his house and tell him... What? That she couldn't sleep? That would certainly make her look like a child who climbs into their parents' bed at night.
But he was Gibbs, and Gibbs had always been there for her. He had been there in that cell.
Sure, he had been a figment of her imagination, a hallucination when the dehydration had gotten the best of her, but he had been there all the same.
She might even owe him her sanity, as ironic as that sounds. By losing her mind, she had been saving her sanity? That made no sense whatsoever.
She was no longer in her car. She was walking up his front path, her legs carrying her toward the house. Her brain tried to come up with an excuse to stop, to reason with her muscles to stop, but they seemed to have a mind of their own.
Or just a heart.
She wanted, no needed to talk to someone. Why Gibbs? Why not Tony, McGee, Abby, Ducky?
None of them were Gibbs.
None of them were her father figure.
By now she had opened the door, her heart completely overpowering her brain.
Her brain screamed at her that she was weak to need someone else's help, weak to feel the need to cry, and for once let down the walls that held back her emotions.
Her heart kindly told her that Gibbs loved her. That he cared about her, and that she would be accepted, even after everything she had done. After all, he had come along to avenge her. And ended up saving her.
Plus, after all she had been through this summer, she feels that she is entitled to a few tears.
And in the end, her heart wins. Her heart has for once tasted victory.
TBC
