L'hitraot (להתראות) is used for goodbye in Hebrew, but really means see you later, see you again, till we meet again, see you soon, depending on who you ask or which dictionary you consult...
I'm not a native speaker, but from what they've told me, for me as a learner, and especially for the kind of person who knows just a little but cares about what a phrase really means, it's pretty close in feel to au revoir. Not a goodbye forever, but a goodbye for now.
Todah raba (תודה רבה) means thank you very much.
With that in mind, read on :)
L'HITRAOT
"I have to go."
Gibbs had been aware of Ziva slowly making her way over to his desk; after all these years, he'd become attuned to what Tony called her ninja ways, and she rarely surprised him any more.
He finished the sentence in his report, hit save, and looked up. "Sure, Ziver. It's late, go home. Enjoy your weekend."
She chewed on her lip, and he raised an eyebrow, wondering what was bothering her.
"I did not mean... I do not mean I am going home, Gibbs."
He waited. Patience wasn't a quality his colleagues might have associated with him much, but countless interviews and interrogations had taught him how people like to fill in silence. As she stood there, not shirking eye contact but looking unusually uncomfortable in her own skin, he realised she was psyching herself up to say something important.
"I..." She paused again, and at the very moment he realised her eyes were suddenly swimming with tears, she swiped at the one that escaped down her cheek. "I cannot do this any more."
There was another long silence, and her expressive face showed just how difficult she was finding this, without showing what was making it so difficult. He was so used to her being blunt, it was strange to see her struggle.
Her mouth worked, and she chewed on her lip a little more, then she dropped her gaze to her feet and sighed.
He didn't like to see her in pain. Maybe she needed someone to throw her a life preserver in the seas of words she was having trouble navigating. "What's up?"
She sighed again, but something had finally loosened her tongue.
"When I said... When I told you you were the nearest thing I had to a father... I was being truthful, at least I thought, I believed I was being truthful. But then my father, my abba died. My blood." The words came in fits and starts, tumbling out then running dry. "My family." Another pause. "I realised... some things. Some things I had kept hidden from myself since you retired. Since I turned to you for help and- and you saved me... the first time. I have tried to hide from the truth, I have tried not to feel, I tried to find the control I had when I was Mossad. But these last few months..."
Gibbs knew he was frowning at her, could sense that it was making her nervous, but couldn't seem to stop himself. They'd all become adept at translating Ziva's sometimes convoluted sentences into something they understood, but today he was having the opposite problem. All the words made sense, but the meaning eluded him.
"What're you tryin' to tell me, Ziva?"
"I... A few weeks ago, I found some things of Agent Todd's. Of Kate's."
The mention of her name could still make him wince. With guilt, with regret. With simple grief still, after all this time.
"I do not... I did not know her. I do not want to pry, and I do not want to unbury painful memories. But..." She laughed slightly. "Although I always denied it, I think we had more in common, she and I, than I realised. Than I wanted to admit."
He was frowning deeper now, still lost, still not understanding.
"I was going to write a letter. I had decided I would leave. I would simply get on a plane and join Monique, and you would be none the wiser. The Director would be angry, but in Colombia- well, that would no longer be my problem. I wanted... I did not want to hurt you. To hurt Tony, or McGee. To hurt Abby. I thought it would be easier. To run away, to disappear. But..."
"But what, Ziva?" She was leaving? He wanted to get up and shake some sense into her, to tell her she was being ridiculous. There was a finality in her voice, though, that stopped him. If he could change her mind, he would, but this was not a sudden decision she was making. As much as it hurt to imagine her leaving them - to lose another woman he cared about, to lose someone who was as much a daughter in his heart as if she was his own flesh and blood - he respected her too much to dismiss what she was saying.
"But I do not want to live with regret. I do not want to leave my feelings locked in a desk for a stranger to find. I lived so long in the shadows. I did not leave Israel simply to create new shadows here."
He shook his head. "Ziva, I-"
"Please. Let me finish. I need to finish."
He swallowed back his questions and his protests, and nodded for her to continue.
"I... I know you think of me like a daughter. I treasure that knowledge. But Gibbs... I do not think of you as a father. And until I can think of you that way - I cannot be here, and work in this team."
Of all the things... From her expression, his surprise was evident, and she smiled a little one sided smile. Sad, but also a little amused that she had managed to shock him so completely.
"I do not expect you- I know, Gibbs, how you think of me. I know your heart belongs to another - that it has for many years, that maybe it always will. I think Kate knew the same. I am resigned, I am- satisfied-" she laughed again, as if the word seemed strange to her- "I am happy and honoured that you care for me. I treasure that knowledge. I do not ask for more."
He knew his own eyes were watery now, shock and regret mingling, guilt that he had missed something so important. That she wasn't expecting a response, that she understood, was a small mercy. How could he possibly explain how much she meant to him without hurting her more because he didn't care about her that way?
She let out a breath, and her smile widened, as if a burden had been lifted. "Do not feel sorry for me, Gibbs. I learned to be part of a team, here. I learned to trust. I learned to... to love."
There was a moment, a beat of silence between them. Then, swiftly, unexpectedly, briefly, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his temple.
"Goodbye, Gibbs," she whispered. "Please tell them... Tell them I love them?" Her voice broke on the last few words.
"They already know." His own voice was none too steady.
She smiled again, nodded once, acknowledging the truth of that. "But tell them anyway."
"Okay." What else could he say? There were landmines all around, so many things that would wound. But one thing, the thing that was never said aloud, that was known, assumed, almost taken for granted, but which was rarely if ever put into words - this time, it was too important to leave unspoken. "They... we- we love you too, Ziver." The nickname had somehow never seemed more appropriate.
She nodded again. "I know."
Another moment of silence, too full to break. Then she turned and walked slowly away. At the edge of the bullpen, she looked back over her shoulder. "Todah raba, Gibbs."
He didn't know much Hebrew, but of all the words he did know, there was one that seemed appropriate and that he hoped would tell her all she needed to hear.
"L'hitraot, Ziva David."
One last nod. One last smile. And then she left.
