"Ms. Sc-Scuito?"
The forensic scientist in question turned around too fast, accidentally knocking some bagged evidence off her table.
"Ah! Don't scare me like that."
Ms. Scuito, or Abby, as she preferred, bent halfway down to collect the fallen evidence before straightening to look inquisitively at the woman standing in her lab.
"Who are you again?"
"I'm not. I– I mean, I am. I mean, I h-haven't in-in-introduced myself yet. I'm Yarah. Alves! Yarah A-Alves. I shoulda told you my full name, I already sc-screwed up."
The woman seemed so distressed that Abby had to smile. She looked at her more carefully, and decided she was more girl than woman. She was maybe 20, and dressed like she was from the 50s. She had a Spanish-sounding accent and rather thick glasses, though Abby could tell she was very pretty beneath them. She was also currently halfway to a panic attack right now, picking at her cuticles like there was no tomorrow.
Abby smiled and picked up the evidence.
"Don't worry, you didn't screw anything up. And I'm Abby, please."
Yarah smiled shyly back and started twisting her fingers instead of picking at them.
"Okay, Abby. Nice to meet you. I'm Yarah. God, you kn-know that already, I just-"
"It's fine." Abby held up a hand to stop the stutters and somehow found herself somehow smiling even more. Most people would find this girl horribly annoying, but Abby found her stuttering and transparent nerves endearing. "How can I help you?"
Yarah looked confused, but stuck a smile back on her face.
"I th-think the real question is how c-can I help you?"
"I'm sorry?"
"I'm your new assistant."
The blood drained from Abby's face. Her smile disappeared and with it her enjoyment of the company. Not being an idiot, Yarah noticed the change, but the cause she is unsure of. She takes a step forward, only for Abby to take a step back. Her nails were digging into her cuticles again; what had she done wrong?
"I-I didn't mean to u-upset you, A-Abby."
There was no response other than Abby moving even farther away. Yarah started inching towards the door.
"Maybe I sh-should go…"
"No! Don't move!"
Abby's shout froze Yarah in place. Putting her hands in the air, she watched Abby pick up the phone and dial a number, never taking her eyes of her.
"Gibbs."
"Gibbs, I got a major problem down here."
"What's wrong?"
"Apparently, I have a new assistant."
;-) ;-) ;-)
The whole team was in Labby within moments, even Ducky and Palmer. They had seated Yarah down at the table in the back, and Gibbs was in the process of a full blown interrogation. Everyone else was watching through the mirror, occasionally forgetting this one was two-way.
Gibbs stood in a corner, drinking his coffee. Yarah picked her cuticles and looked anywhere but at him.
Finally, he spoke.
"So…Yarah. Interesting name. Alves. Spanish name."
"Portuguese." Yarah's eyes widened at her boldness. "I'm s-sorry, sir, you were t-talking."
"Portuguese. You're from Brazil."
Nodding her head, Yarah continued to stare at the table. Suddenly she gasped in pain. She had broken through the skin, her finger was bleeding. Gibbs handed her a paper towel, which she wrapped around it. She mumbled something Gibbs assumed to be "thanks."
On the other side of the glass Ducky sighed.
"This isn't right. She's obviously more of a danger to herself than Abigail. And he's scaring the poor girl."
"Better her scared than me in jail and Abby almost killed. Or have you forgotten her last assistant?"
Tony turned to look at Ducky, who straightened up to his full height in response.
"No I have not, Antony. However, we cannot judge people based on their predecessors. Is Ziva anything like Caitlyn? No. Is Director Vance like Jenny? No. And this girl…she's beyond harmless."
"Looks can be deceiving, Dr. Mallard."
The team turned to look at Ziva. She hadn't said anything this whole time, until now. Tony opened his mouth to ask what she meant when his attention was drawn back into the 'interrogation room.'
Gibbs leaned down close to Yarah so he was speaking directly into her ear.
"Who sent you here?"
"Director Vance, o-of course."
"Why?"
"To h-help."
"Not what I meant."
"I came here when I was l-little. I watched his k-kids for him in exchange for some m-money when I got a little older. I…I read the books in his office, h-home schooled myself. Got m-my GED at 16."
"Impressive. What does this have to do with you being here?"
"We k-kept in touch once I left. He said he-he'd help me find a job if-if he could. Apparently there have been p-people who for years have thought there n-needs to be another p-person down here, and he said… he said there was no one who c-could teach me better than Ms. Sc-Scuito. Abby! Sorry, Abby. I-I keep saying, right, s-sorry."
"Calm down," Gibbs said with an almost-smile. "And don't apologize. It's a sign of weakness."
"Oh, sorry. I m-mean, argh, j-just, ahh! I stutter w-worse w-when I'm nervous."
This time Gibbs really did smile. "It's okay, you'll get better." With that he patted her back and left the room to talk to the team. Abby started in first.
"Gibbs I know she seems safe but what if she's not and she's actually going to tie me up and kill me with-"
"With what, Abigail?" Ducky cut in. "Her bleeding cuticles?" And with that he walked into the 'interrogation room with band-aids he magically produced from his pocket. Yarah accepted them graciously with a concealed smile. They forgot once again that she could hear them. Killed with cuticles? Please.
Palmer decided to speak up. "Abby, for what it's worth, I think she's sweet. And she's so scared of Gibbs and even you, if she was dangerous there's no way she'd outsmart any of us. Let alone physically take on, well, not me, but you guys."
"She did get her GED at 16," McGee added. "She must be really bright. She at least wouldn't be a nuisance down here."
Abby continued to watch Gibbs; his was the opinion that mattered. He smiled at her and lightly kissed her cheek.
"You've got nothing to worry about."
With that announcement Abby hit the roof with excitement.
"Really, you sure? Because I know I didn't want an assistant that first time but that was years ago and it might be fun to have a probie now. And she seems so sweet and nice and just like me only not at all. Plus she worked so hard to get here it would be mean to send her away." Gibbs and the others started to leave so Abby had to shout to be heard. "Just make sure you tell Vance this is the only assistant I want!"
Gibbs raised his hand to acknowledge he heard. Now only Ziva, Abby, and Yarah were left in the room. Though, technically, Abby reasoned, Yarah was in another room. Ziva pulled her out of her thoughts on the definition of what a room is.
"Why don't I take her to get her ID? You still have some things to do here, yes?"
Abby nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah, you take her; I'll get things here settled. Oh, Ziva! We should have a Girls on Team Gibbs Slumber Party!"
Making sure her smile staid on, Ziva nodded her agreement while walking around Abby to the door. She cleared her throat to get Yarah's attention.
"Yarah. I'm Ziva. I'm going to take you to get your ID."
"I take it I p-passed? I-I'm allowed to st-stay?"
"Yes."
Yarah smiled widely, then quickly scurried after Ziva when she saw her leaving. She waved to Abby, who waved back, then happily got into the elevator.
As soon as the doors closed, everything changed.
Ziva slammed on the emergency switch and turned to glare at Yarah. "What the hell are you doing here, Nofia?"
"I'm sorry, did your father die? Because last time I checked he's still Director of Mossad, not you."
"These are my people."
"Not anymore."
The two women were locked in a staring match to rival Gibbs. Everything about Yarah/Nofia's demeanor had changed. She stood tall, spoke clearly and had her hands firmly at her sides. No more picking at her fingers, hopping from foot to foot, stuttering. Her expression was hard, she looked strong. She looked, well, like Mossad.
Finally, Ziva leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.
"If you tell me what you're doing here, Nof, maybe I can help."
Nofia's mouth twitched at the use of the nickname.
"Perhaps you can, but I will do my own searching first. After one month, I have been ordered to involve you. However, I have also been ordered to not involve anyone in NCIS, and not to involve you if you could not resist telling them."
"They might be able to help, also."
"Or they might be able to screw everything up. Director Vance knows, as does the SecNav and even the Department of Defense. This has been approved by the highest authorities. If you blow my cover you will find your ass on a plane back to Israel to be…released from your Mossad duties."
Neither had to say the truth about what would happen to know what it was. If she messed this up, she would be spending the rest of her life in the crappiest rat-hole Mossad could find, being watched day and night.
Ziva nodded once.
"Very well. However, in exactly one month, if you do not tell what the reason is for your being here, I will tell Gibbs who you really are."
"Threatening me, Ziva? It worked better when I was nine. You will know in due time. Now can we move?"
Another glare was shared before Ziva flipped the emergency switch back on.
"Do not think I will not be discussing this with the Director later."
"I expected nothing less. I'm sure your father will be happy to hear from you."
Ziva scoffed and mumbled under her breath.
"Oh no he won't."