"A-HA!" Ziva cried as she clicked her mouse with a resounding snap. "THAT will teach you to mess with me! Hmph! Like I do not know exactly what weapons I need to use in order to defeat you!" Her eyes lit up as her online opponent "died" a very graphic (yet tastefully rendered) death. "I understand now why McGee was so proud of his 1000 victims," she continued to observe to no one in particular, "there is something…soothing…" She grinned in satisfaction as she noticed that her latest success had propelled her to the next level.
"Soothing, Ziva?" Gibbs asked as he walked into his living room. "Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?" He was concerned about her well being ever since she started sniffling in the squad room earlier in the week. With the weather getting steadily colder, it was beginning to feel like winter in D.C. and already several agents had gotten the flu. He definitely could not afford any one of them becoming ill, since the case load seemed impervious to any viruses.
Ziva looked up from where she was sitting curled up on the sofa with her laptop. The grin on her face widened to a big smile as she lifted her arms towards him for an embrace. "No, thank you, Jethro. I was just saying how soothing it is when I kill someone!" Gibbs' eyebrow crooked in amazement although he never uttered a word. Ziva rolled her eyes at him. "I mean – in the GAME!" she responded. Shaking her head in amusement, she stretched her legs out in front of her then re-crossed them and clicked on the next application. "Now it is time for me to check on my cattle!"
Gibbs sat down next to her and squinted at the screen, wondering how she could spend so much time playing video games. It was a surprise to both of them, actually. If one bothered to think about it closely, the blame could be squarely placed on McGee's well-intended shoulders. The last time Ziva had to recuperate from being shot (which unfortunately meant enforced bed rest) Tim had shown her how to play a couple of games on Facebook, as she had become bored with watching the DVD's Tony had brought her and couldn't hold up a book because of her injuries. Prior to that she had only opened her Facebook page sporadically to keep up on the activities of her friends. Now she was the proud owner of a virtual ranch, had a thriving coffee house, and (her personal favorite) was the head of a (very) organized crime syndicate. Plain and simple: she was addicted. Every day when they got home she spent at least half an hour tending to her various concessions. "The coyotes have been into the chicken pen again!" she uttered as a frown crossed her face. Clicking several times in succession, she began saying things in Hebrew that Gibbs suspected were not very complimentary to the aforementioned coyotes.
"Well, when you're done with the…coyotes…perhaps you would care to join me downstairs?" Never since Shannon and Kelly had passed away did he imagine that he would actually WANT someone to be with him as he worked on his projects down in the basement. But, as long as he and Ziva had been together, he had found great comfort in her presence even if she was just sitting on the steps watching him sand the boat, or later, put together wooden toys.
"Mmhmm…" came the non-committal response. Ziva was engrossed now in making sure the coffee house had enough croissants for its customers, Those took 4 hours to bake and she did not want to be penalized for not having the right amount of baked goods available for sale. "Yes, I will come down…soon…"
Gibbs stood up and, shaking his head, went back down into his basement to continue working on the rocking horse he was building for Amira. Two hours later, he finally put down his sanding block and stretched his shoulders. It was midnight according to his watch and Ziva never did make it downstairs. He went back up to the living room to find her asleep on the sofa, snoring up a storm. Carefully he reached over to remove the computer from its precarious position on her lap and placed it on the coffee table. Gathering her in his arms he picked her up and brought her upstairs to their bedroom.
Despite the gentle manner in which he placed her on the bed, the movement was enough to wake Ziva up – enough to notice the change in her surroundings. "Oh, you should have woken me up! You did not need to bring me up here. I do not want you straining your back! Or your knees!" Ziva sleepily murmured to him, yawning in between sentences.
"Shhh…let's just get you changed. It's okay. My back is fine and my knees are better than ever," he replied as he helped her remove her pants and blouse and put on his old NIS t-shirt she preferred as her sleep shirt. The minute she put her head back down on the pillow, Ziva fell asleep once more. Gibbs headed to the bathroom to get himself ready for bed and once he returned did not hesitate to climb underneath the covers. She was so beautiful, his Ziver, he thought to himself. He shut the bedside lamp and then slowly stroked her hair as he indulged in gazing at her lovely face in the moonlight. "Good night, my love, " he whispered in her hair as he kissed her gently on the top of her head as he gathered her into his arms, "don't let the bedbugs bite."
Surprisingly, she responded very adamantly, "Noooo, I wihnompf chim-FELLAS bffth! I WILL KEEP YOU SAFE!" and having declared that snorted quite loudly and turned over, settling into a more comfortable position in bed.
Laughing to himself, Gibbs took a few moments to attempt to decipher the next-to-the-last thing she had said, only to realize she had muttered, "Nooo, I won't let the CHINCHILLAS bite!" Smirking in the dark he knew Ziva was back out on her ranch minding his six, happy and smiling, at least for a little while longer.
FIN