Quick author's note before the story: They are clearly not mine. Except Aliyah. I'm pretty sure she doesn't exist in Belisarius' head. Oh, and italics in quotation marks are conversations occuring in Hebrew. Italics on their own are Ziva's thoughts. Confused? Hopefully, although I must admit it's way to late to be writing, it will make sense once you start reading. Hope you enjoy. And, as always, feedback is a happy, happy thing.
"Doda Ziva!" shrieked a small voice. Ziva spun around just in time to catch the hysterical little girl who hurtled into her arms.
Momentarily forgetting Tony and McGee, who were staring at the unfolding scene in disbelieve, Ziva quickly took in the child's ragged, but apparently unharmed figure. Wounds? None visible. Clothes? Crisp and clean Hair? Tangled, but then again little girls who have curly hair almost always also have tangled hair. Face? Smudged with dirt and red from crying but beautiful as always. Eyes? Currently wet with tears, but I can see her in them, so I think she's okay.
While she took inventory of the child in her arms, Ziva murmured softly to her in Hebrew, feeling the girl relax bit by bit into her embrace, tears still streaming but sobs slowing down and then ceasing altogether. When the tears stopped, Ziva began speaking to the child in a quiet, soft Hebrew that surprised Tony and McGee almost as much as the sudden appearance of the child.
"Aliyah, what happened? What are you doing here? Did you lose your Abba and Ima?"
"No, Auntie Ziva. I don't know where they are but I wasn't with them. A bad man stole me from my tea party and then I slept for a really long time and then I woke up. He told me to pretend he was my Abba or he would hurt them."
"Did he heart you, sweetheart?"
"No," said the little girl, shaking her head and looking at Ziva with eyes slightly widened. "He said he only hurts grownups. Would he hurt me?"
"No one can hurt you now, my soul. I promise I'll keep you safe. Do you see him around here anywhere?"
The child looked around for several minutes, searching with an intentness that belied her young age. Finally, she looked back at Ziva and shook her head, simultaneously tightening her grip on the woman's neck. "No. He's not here. I don't know where he went. He looked at a woman while we were getting food and I ran as fast as I could and then I saw you."
"You did a good job, my soul. Very good. Aliyah, I need to ask you a bunch of questions so we can find the bad man and make sure that he never hurts anyone again, but first, do you want something to eat?"
Aliyah nodded seriously and replied, "I want a hamburger from McDonald's.... And some ice cream?"
Ziva laughed, only then remembering the two men who were standing next to her.
"DiNozzo, McGee, I promise I'll explain everything in a little bit. But first I need to get her some food. And then, when we get back to the office, we'll sort this all out."
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Back in the Bullpen
Aliyah sat contentedly on Ziva's lap, finishing off her ice cream cone before she began eating the kid's meal sitting on Ziva's desk. Ziva, meanwhile, was looking up a number on her computer.
The phone rang only once before Ziva heard a desperate, "Shalom?"
"Michael, it's Ziva."
"Did Eli tell you what---"
"Yes, Michael, that's what I'm calling you about. I don't know any details yet, but Aliyah is safe. She somehow managed to escape and she's with me right now."
"Thank Hashem! Dassah, come here!"
Ziva heard a soft whoosh and then a cascade of rapid Hebrew as her half-sister Hadassah picked up the phone and began inundating her with questions.
"Slow down, Dassah! Slow down! She appears to be fine. I decided calming her down and feeding her should come before taking her to the-- er, for a check up and/or asking her many questions." Aliyah looked up and smiled, ketchup dripping down her chin. Ziva smiled back fondly and wiped it off with a handy napkin. "Does she know English yet?"
"No," Hadassah replied. "We were about to start lessons but...." She paused and Ziva could hear Michael whispering to her comfortingly in the background.
"As I was saying, she appears to be fine. I asked her if he hurt her and she said no, so I doubt they will find anything wrong with her. But I will take her to the hospital to double check. And I will start an investigation from my end to find the bastard who did this. Do not worry, Dassah. My team is very competent at investigations."
"We trust you," Michael replied as Hadassah murmured her assent.
Ziva flicked on the speaker phone. "Aliyah, I think Abba and Ima would like to say hi."
After exchanging reassurances with her parents, Aliyah returned to her french fries, trying to feed the stuffed unicorn that had come with her meal. Ziva switched the speaker phone back off. "She is playing now; I really think there is nothing to worry about. Besides, she is only 5. There is a good chance that she does not understand what happened and will not have much memory of this event."
"I really hope you're right, Ziva. Okay, well, I'm going to go now and start working on getting plane tickets for Dassah and I to fly to D.C. and get her. I'll email you as soon as I have details. And call me if you have any updates. And... you don't mind watching her until we get there, do you?"
Ziva chuckled and answered, "Well, I do not really like her but for you... Of course I will keep her! You know I love her."
"Thank you, Ziva," sighed Dassah. "You know, you're the only one I would feel that she will truly be alright with."
Ziva smiled and after an exchange of "Shaloms" gently hung up the phone and looked up at the three men who were standing in front of her desk.
"Aliyah, my friends want to talk to me for a minute. Can I leave you on this chair?"
"You'll be right back? And stay where I can see you?" Aliyah asked suspiciously.
"Of course, my soul. We will stand right over by the windows."
"Okay."
Ziva stood and lifted the child from her lap, setting her back on the chair with a flourish that elicited a startled giggle from the child. She then turned a walked toward the windows, followed by Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee.
"What the hell is going on, David?" Gibbs demanded as soon as they were out of the bullpen.
Ziva held up a hand to silence the men. "She is my niece; my half-sister Hadasah's daughter. She goes to-- well, went to-- a play group with other little girls once a week to give her time to socialize. She has twin little brothers, 14 months younger than her, so her parents thought girl time was a good idea. Anyway, five days ago she was abducted from play group by an armed man who said he knew who her grandfather was. My father sent out a bulletin, which I received, and, privately, ordered me to stay here, saying I would just get in the way of the investigation if I rushed back to Israel. I do not know how she got here. And I am keeping her until her parents can get here."
"We'll need to question her. Regardless of what your father said, we can start an investigation on our end and we will."
"Of course. I assumed that is what you would say. Now that she has eaten, it would probably be alright to ask her some questions. And then I should probably take her to the hospital to make sure that she is unharmed. Is she still small enough to need a baby seat for the car?"
"Yes," Gibbs answered, smiling at Ziva's thoroughness. "I assume she doesn't want you to go anywhere without her, so I'll go buy one. How much do you think she weighs?"
"Somewhere around 14 kilos."
"That's about 34 pounds, Boss." McGee said quickly, finishing the mental math before Gibbs could even ask.
"Alright. I'll go pick up supplies and..."
"Gibbs, I can take her to the store after we leave. All I need is the seat."
"Are you sure you know what to get?"
Ziva resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, Gibbs. I promise, I can handle it. And I appreciate you getting the seat. Give me the receipt when you get back so I can reciprocate you later."
"Reimburse," Tony corrected her automatically.
"Whatever."
At this exchange, Gibbs and McGee rolled their eyes and the meeting broke up, Gibbs walking toward the elevator as the others went back to their desks.
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After Gibbs returned with the car seat he and Ziva questioned the child, Ziva translating his questions and Aliyah's responses. Aliyah was a bright, observant child so, despite her sheltered upbringing and young age, she remembered many details, giving a good description of the man who had held her captive and describing the car ride to the Mall, where she had escaped and met Ziva. Gibbs then told Ziva to take the child home and walked out to the parking lot with them to transfer the car seat to Ziva's car.
As they walked, Gibbs' eyes flitted between Ziva and the child in her arms, making Ziva feel slightly uncomfortable.
"What?"
"She looks a lot like you."
"Well, we are related," Ziva shot back, slightly annoyed at his peculiar reticence.
"What are you talking about, Auntie Ziva?"
"Nothing important, my soul. He is just asking me some more questions."
Aliyah nodded and went back to whispering secrets to her tiny unicorn.
"And how are you related?"
"I told you, Gibbs, she is my half-sister's..."
"I know what you said. Now I'm asking you if she is biologically your half-sister's daughter?"
"No. You are asking me if she is my daughter."
"I didn't say those words."
Ziva took a deep breathe, controlling her temper for Aliyah's sake. "That was not necessary, Gibbs. We both know what you are steering at."
"Driving at, Ziva."
Ignoring the correction, Ziva responded, "Does it really matter?"
"Not really. Except I think it might affect how you handle the investigation."
And you are cannot stand being left in the dark, Ziva thought, unconsciously smiling when she realized that for once she had remembered an English idiom correctly.
After buckling Aliyah into the chair that Gibbs had strapped into her car, Ziva straightened, sighed, and looked at Gibbs. "It will not affect my treatment of the case, but since you apparently must know, yes, I did give birth to her. But she is Hadassah and Michael's daughter. As I have said before, children are an occupational hazard in my line of work. I did not really have a choice when I discovered that I was pregnant. So I gave her to them. They were ready to be parents and my job is not exactly conducive to raising a child. Nor do I really want to have children..." Ziva stopped, realizing that she was becoming increasingly defensive for no reason. Geez, it is not as if he is interrogating me. And I certainly do not regret giving her up. I love Aliyah, certainly, but I have no desire to have children of my own.
Gibbs watched Ziva silently, waiting for her to gather her thoughts.
"Okay, Z. If you need anything, call me. It's been a while but..."
"Thank you, Gibbs. I appreciate it."
Smiling, Ziva got into the car and, for once, backed out carefully before driving home, going a shocking 2 miles per hour under the speed limit and observing traffic laws.
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That is absolutely adorable. If I did not know better, I would say that Gibbs had a soft-hearted doppelgänger.
Ziva was thoroughly enjoying the sight of a relaxed Gibbs pushing her precious niece on a swing at a park near her apartment. Moments like these were bitter sweet for both of them, she knew, as was a reminder of happier times with little girls they would never see again. But hearing Aliyah's innocent laughter washed away any sadness Ziva might have felt for her lost sister or Gibbs' lost daughter, and she smiled as walked to join them at the swings. She would enjoy this moment without regret, because tomorrow Hadassah and Michael would be there to pick up their daughter and take her home. Ziva would mourn her losses later.
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Three days after her parents arrived, the team located Aliyah's kidnapper. Having not yet returned to Israel, Michael brought Aliyah to the office and she identified the man easily from a photo line-up. Ziva's only frustration was that Gibbs refused to allow her to interrogate the man. However, the case against him built up quickly and, between Aliyah's recorded testimony and the forensic evidence they gathered at his house, the team was able to assure Michael that they were confident of a guilty verdict.
Thus comforted, the family returned to Israel, leaving Ziva feeling empty in a way she hadn't in years.
Why do I feel this way? How can a few days with a child change my perspective so much?
Noticing the distance in Ziva's eyes as they finished up paperwork, Gibbs glared at her and barked, "My office, David. Now!"
What does he want? I am finished with my report. If he wants to chastise someone, it should be DiNozzo. He is most certainly not finished and he has spent the past 20 minutes throwing spat upon paper balls at McGee.
After the elevator doors closed, Gibbs slammed on the emergency stop and his expression immediately shifted from annoyed to concerned. "Ziva, are you okay?"
"Why would I not be?"
Instead of responding, Gibbs looked at her knowingly and Ziva felt tears beginning to well up unexpectedly behind her eyes.
"I really did not want to be a parent..." she stopped, not understanding how she felt, much less knowing how to communicate it in a language that, at the best of times, frustrated her beyond belief.
Gibbs enveloped her in his arms. Initially stiffening at the unexpected contact, Ziva quickly relaxed in his arms and let a few tears fall. I am glad he understands, even if I do not.
After a few minutes of silence, Gibbs stepped back and, tipping up Ziva's face with his finger, looked into her eyes. Seeing her renewed calm, Gibbs smiled and gently smacked the back of Ziva's head. "Don't get all soft on me, now, David," he said teasingly.
"Of course not. If you will remember, I am a 'ninja' and ninjas are never overwhelmed by emotion."
Gibbs smiled indulgently, happy that he had finally broken through her barrier enough to have these sorts of conversations with Ziva. For her part, Ziva was happy that she finally had someone who cared about her and understood her better than she understood herself. And, unbeknownst to each other, they both were grateful for the daughter and father, respectively, that they had gained by learning to trust one another.