The product of two days snowed in :). The show tells us next to nothing about Ziva's mother, so this is my attempt to fill in a couple of the gaps. Read, enjoy - and reviews always welcome!

As usual, I own nothing.

Gibbs sat back in the kitchen chair, his arm resting on the table, and watched as Ziva made tea. She had her own ritual in the evenings with the teapot and the herbs, and he never tired of watching it. Or her. He smiled to himself. A year ago he wouldn't even have had the herbs in the house. But home back then wasn't nearly such a welcoming place.

Finally Ziva turned to him, pot in hand. This had become another ritual – she would always offer him a cup, and he would always refuse. Tonight, he decided to surprise her.

'Tea?'

He pretended to think for a moment, as he always did, before nodding. She wrinkled her brow in confusion, and reached over to feel his forehead.

'Are you sick?'

He laughed. 'Just thirsty.'

She smiled and handed him an extra mug from the cupboard before pouring for both of them. He thought she seemed quiet, a little distracted, but he wasn't sure why. He never liked to ask. He trusted her to tell him sooner or later if something was wrong.

'Jethro?' Her voice sounded slightly hesitant.

He raised his eyebrows.

'Do you mind if I light a candle?'

He smiled. 'Don't have to ask, Ziva.'

She shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. 'A yahrtzeit candle. It is my mother's anniversary today. I have not lit one for her for several years, but….'

Gibbs looked at her, trying not to let his surprise show in his face. He had hardly ever heard Ziva mention her mother. He wasn't even sure he knew her name.

'You want some space?' He could always head down to the basement and his latest project for a couple of hours if she wanted some privacy, but she shook her head.

'Do you mind staying?'

He stood up and slipped his arms around her waist. 'Never have to ask that, Ziva'.

She leaned into him for a moment, before pulling away and reaching for the large, fat candle that she had set on the kitchen worktop earlier.

'Here'. Gibbs fetched a box of matches from the shelf in the living room, and handed them to her. She took them, smiling her thanks, and put her tea mug down. Gibbs stood behind her, his hands on her waist, as she struck a match and lit the candle. The wick caught immediately, small and flickering at first before building to a strong, upright flame as Ziva began to quietly recite the Kaddish.

'Yitgadal v'yitkadesh sh'may raba…'

As she finished with a soft 'Amen', Gibbs wondered how many times she had done this before. Too many. As they stood in silence, watching the flame, he brought his hands up to rest on her shoulders, kissing the back of her head.

'You never talk about her'.

Ziva sighed. For a moment he was not sure she would answer his implied question, and he was about to say that she didn't have to when she spoke.

'Her name was Rivka'. Her voice was quiet still, her face expressionless.

'We did not always…get along. Tali was much more like her than I was'. She smiled, her mind replaying memories from another land and another time.

'She used to try and encourage me to play with dolls, you know, girl stuff. She wanted us to be normal children, not little soldiers. But I always preferred the war games'.

She paused, her gaze still held by the candle.

'She left my father when I was twelve and went back to teaching. I did not understand why, and I blamed her. But Tali understood. Even though she was so much younger, she saw what I did not'.

Gibbs shook his head, but before he could speak Ziva carried on.

'Later on, when I realised what my father could really be like, I blamed her again, this time for not telling me. I thought that maybe….she did not think I was strong enough to take it. That she did not love me enough to confide in me. I was too selfish to see that she was trying to protect me'.

Gibbs moved his hands down to her waist again, resting them on her lower stomach.

'She loved my father. She just did not trust him to love her, and she was right. I was the one who made that mistake'.

She moved her hands to cover his.

'When Tali was killed, it destroyed her. She had wanted us to leave Israel, begged my father to let her bring us to America, but he had always refused. When he insisted on working the day of Tali's funeral…I do not think she ever spoke to him again'.

'How'd she die?' The question was tentative, but Ziva didn't seem to mind him asking.

'She had friends in Nablus. It is not uncommon, many Israelis have Palestinian friends, despite everything, and back then Israelis were still allowed into the West Bank. She went to visit them one day, almost two years after Tali died, and never came back. They found her body two days later. She had been shot in the head'. There was no expression in her voice. 'It was militants, but they did not realise who she was. The wife of the Deputy Director of Mossad. They just saw a car with Israeli number plates'. She paused. 'My father did not attend her funeral either'.

They stood in silence for a while as the candle burned, the flame occasionally flickering in a slight draught that neither of them felt. Despite knowing the reason it was there, Gibbs couldn't help thinking how beautiful it looked. Maybe that's why it helps.

'I have not done this for her for too long'. Ziva's quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. 'But I do not know why….this year…..I wanted to'.

Gibbs smiled. 'Don't you?' He gently moved his hand on her stomach, so that her hand was underneath his. She smiled and shook her head.

'I do not think the maternal instinct starts so early, Jethro'.

'You'd be surprised'. He bent his head slightly to kiss her, and pressed his cheek to hers. 'Family's important. Might be your way of introducing Rivka to her granddaughter'.

She laughed. 'And what makes you so sure it will be a girl?'

He smiled and shrugged. 'Gut'. On impulse, he reached out and passed his hand over the flame before pressing it to Ziva's stomach once more.

'So Rivka…..meet little…..' He paused, and Ziva smiled.

'Rebecca'.

'Rebecca?'

'I also have a gut feeling. And for this, mine is probably more reliable than yours'.

Gibbs laughed, and pulled her even closer to him. The significance of the name was not lost on him, and once again they stood in silence watching the candle flame flicker and jump in the darkening kitchen. He bent his head to her ear, and whispered once more.

'Rivka….meet Rebecca'.