"Director David will see you now," the Mossad officer uttered. He was dark haired, olive skinned, and very hairy. An obvious gun on his hip, and probably half a dozen hidden weapons.
The second Ray had stepped off the plane at Tel Aviv, he had been ambushed by two less-hairy Mossad officers. A man and a woman, who had posed as holidaymakers returning home, standing two people behind in in the security line, but completely in control. You are here for Kort, no? The taller one had asked when they drove toward headquarters. Ray had nodded.
He felt heavy as he followed the hairy officer into Eli David's office. The director, was hunched over his desk. His phone pressed to his ear. Eli ended the call with a few words in a language Ray did not understand.
"Please sit, Agent Cruz," Eli said motioning to the chair facing him. Ray sat quickly. The chair was almost as uncomfortable as El Al's economy seats.
Ray studied the older man. He noticed similarities in Eli's face to Ziva's. The widows peak. The curls. The curve of the nose. It was pure genetics but eerie.
"Would you like some coffee?" Eli asked, holding a cup.
"I am not here for coffee," Ray declared. Trying to remain calm. Exhaustion from the plane, seeping into him.
"I know," Eli said with a sigh. "I am also aware that your organisation did try and stop this from happening."
Ray remembered the brief from his superior. He remembered trying to question, why they were sending him. It's just a quick pick up, the assistant director had tried to tell him. Ray was quick to realise that the CIA were likely leveraging Ray's personal relationships, hoping to soften Eli. Still, Ray was willing to play the game.
"Yes," Ray admitted with a nod. Eli leaned back on his chair. Pressing his hands together.
"Kort has always been a problem operative," Eli said, with a smirk.
Ray still did not understand why Kort was seeking out Eli. There were rumours that the two had run into each other, when the Berlin wall was still up, and Mossad were in hot water for the Lillehammer affair. Eli had something on Kort. Something that was obviously important.
"This game him and I are playing," Eli continued. "It is before your time."
"And above my paygrade," Ray added. He wanted distance. He also wanted to get the hell out of dodge.
Eli let out a chuckle, that echoed in the office.
"You could say that," Eli replied.
"Where is he?" Ray asked.
He looked past Eli, noticing the photos behind him. A black and white photo of Eli dressed in uniform, with his arm around another soldier, with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, stood next to a photo of two little girls at a beach building sandcastles.
Eli turned on the screen on the wall. Trent Kort sat still, in a metal box. A cup of tea on the table.
"He has refused the tea," Eli declared. "It is too strong for him, I suspect."
A memory washed over Ray. That tiny little inn in Vermont, Ziva ordering two tea bags and a lemon. Good tea is too hard to find in America, she had declared, as she sipped from the mug. Ray had no interest in her opinions on tea, but instead studied the reflection of her eyes in the winter sun.
Ray watched as Kort sat perfectly still, and silent. His eye blinking.
"The eye patch is really something," Eli uttered. "Officer Elon has taken to calling him Pirate."
Ray nodded. The codename was hardly original.
"Why is he in interrogation?" Ray asked.
Eli shook his head.
"Agent DiNozzo also thought our conference room was an interrogation room," Eli said with a sigh.
Ray frowned at the mention of Tony. He and Ziva had such a history. Ziva spoke of him, so often. Apparently, he was like a brother to her. Something Ray, wasn't really sure he brought.
"You really should see our interrogation rooms," Eli continued. "Has Ziva not told you about them?"
Ray felt his stomach turn to stone.
"Ziva and I don't talk about work," Ray answered, quickly. Too quickly perhaps. He had fallen into Eli's trap, and would be an easy catch now.
Eli nodded. A smirk crossed his face for just a second.
"I am sure you are a busy man Director," Ray declared, as he moved to get back up. "Kort and I have a flight to catch."
The air conditioner buzzed. Ray felt a woosh of cool air. Even so, his shirt clung to him with stress. The back of his neck was a swamp. His hands were slick. He ran them down his pants, like a nervous interviewee.
"I will have Kort escorted in due time," Eli declared. His voice calm. He had all the time in the world. "You must understand Agent Cruz, I did not invite you into my office to discuss Trent Kort."
Ray sucked in a deep breath of air.
"You must forgive me," Eli continued, as he stood up, and reached for the photograph of the two little girls at the beach. "I once imagine doing this, not once but twice." Eli rested his eyes on the photograph. Ray tried to guess Ziva's age, looking at the little girl with braids on each side, and innocent eyes. "Not quite like this of course."
"What exactly, do you mean sir?" Ray asked, as Eli moved the photograph close to Ray.
"Sir," Eli scoffed. A smirk crossing his face. It was so similar to the playful one Ziva wore sometimes. "You can call me Eli, we are to be family after all."
Ray's mouth went dry. The colour drained from him.
"I am rather surprised in my daughter choice," Eli continued. "Though her choices often perplex me."
A dig at Ziva's job, Ray suspected. Still he decided not to push it.
"Because I am not Jewish?" Ray asked. Sucking in quick breaths. He was drowning, and desperate for air.
The empty box had been a promise. A one day. There was still so much they had to build. So much to share. Both of them were so insistent that the past stay buried, but a little needed to be uncovered before, they could build solid foundations.
"The children will be Jewish," Eli declared. "That is what will matter."
Ray allowed himself for a second to imagine the children he and Ziva might have. Ambiguously brown polyglots, with her crazy curls and his last name. The children would be beautiful.
"You know Ziva and I haven't really discussed it," Ray answered. "We haven't been together for long."
There was so much he and Ziva were yet to discuss.
"In my experience," Eli continued. "Children happen without much discussion."
"That's not what I meant, Sir," Ray replied.
Nausea rose up his throat. How exactly would he explain the empty box to Eli. Did Eli even deserve such an explanation, it was common knowledge that Eli and Ziva David were estranged.
Eli frowned for a second.
"By virtue of Ziva being Jewish, any children you have will be Jewish," Eli said, his voice raising. Ray knew that Ziva was not the most observant, so he did not understand why it mattered. "And, may you have many children. I have always wanted grandchildren."
Ray tugged at his collar. The room suddenly very hot. Ray took a deep breath, as a question formed in his mind.
"Why were you surprised Ziva and I are together?" Ray finally asked. His cheeks blushing red.
"Your occupation," Eli answered. "This job, it takes so much."
Ray nodded. The cherished vacations, he and Ziva had fought to have. Where they left work behind, and focused on the now. Insulating themselves in a safe little world.
"My job took so much from my family," Eli reported. His eyes resting on the photograph. "This was always upsetting for Ziva's mother. She was a passionate woman, she always let her upset be known."
Ray knew very little about Ziva's mother. He could list facts about her, using one hand to count them out. Her name was Rivka, she had died when Ziva was a teenager. She had taught Ziva how to drive. She had also taught Ziva how to cook, which almost made up for the driving.
"I was not there when this photograph was taken," Eli uttered. "Not for that whole summer. I missed many things. Things that Rivka stopped bothering to tell me about."
Ray studied the photograph. Two little girls, with huge smiles and innocent bright eyes. Only one of them got to grow up.
"There are things this job takes from you," Eli said softly, as moved the photograph. "Too many things."
Ray had told Ziva, he would be back in DC soon, but only for a moment. A moment that might be missed, because of Ziva's job anyway. There was a possible mission in Pakistan, one that would mean he was gone for months.
What would things look like then?
Would he be ready to give her the ring then?
"With all due respect, sir," Ray said, his leg bouncing. "My job is different to yours. I make time for the people who matter."
Still so much was up in the air. If he did get down on one knee, how would it all look. Would he take a desk job in Langley? Could he convince her follow him to Miami? Flying south with the birds. She always complained about the chill of the winters in the Northeast . Still there was no NCIS office in Miami. What would Ziva do?
So much was up in the air.
"A wise man and I, a friend of my wife's actually, once had a very spirited debate, about whether history repeats itself," Eli declared. "I believe it does. He did not. What do you think Mr Cruz?"
Ray thought of his own long-dead father for just a moment. How different he was from him. How organised and deliberate he was. Ray Cruz was going places, Matteo Cruz could only dream of. Genetics were not destinity.
"I don't believe it does," Ray replied, voice firm. "I really need to go Director. I need to get Kort on the plane."
"Yes, traffic at this time of day can be very trying," Eli replied, dragging out the conversation. "Officer Katz will know the quickest route."
"I need to go," Ray repeated, standing up, and moving to the door.
Eli pressed something on his phone. Kort was collected by the hairy Mossad officer. Eli turned off the screen, and looked out of the window.
"I know, I will not be invited to the wedding," Eli said, a heaviness in his voice. Regret, Ray wondered. "Which is something that will hurt me, but, I do wish the two of you a happy life. That really is all that a father ever wants for his children."
Ray nodded, unsure if he believed Eli. He knew so little about Ziva's relationship with her father. Yet, the CIA were of the opinion that Eli had moulded his children to follow in his footsteps. He thought of the USB, which had been handed to him, when he and Ziva were 'outed' as a couple. The USB, had everything the CIA had on Ziva. As of yet, it was untouched, locked in Ray's desk. In those few weeks, where Ray and Ziva were 'broken up', Ray had wrestled with himself, fighting temptation to find out all of Ziva's secrets.
The door opened, and another officer appeared. This one hairier than the last.
"Thank you Director," Ray said, turning to look at the older man. Eli was still looking out of the window, as the afternoon sun shone. Ray felt the heat on his face.
"Goodbye, Agent Cruz," Eli replied.
Ray slipped from the office, his shoulders felt heavier than they did before.
A/N: I don't own a thing. This is unbetaed.
I've been thinking a lot about the summer between S8 and S9, and also Ziva's behaviour at the end of S8. I was trying to write something more Ziva centric, but this came about instead. I like the idea of two people, who really don't get or understand Ziva talking about her. I hope I capture, the Eli David we got around S10, where you had to take everything he said with a grain of salt, but he seemed somewhat remorseful.
I think this turned out a bit crack ficy, so please share your thoughts.