A/N: So this is my first fanfic please review and tell me what you think. Chapter two will be better pink promise! (:

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters (that would be pretty cool if I did though...)

The oh so peppy voice of the flight attendant rang through her cabin. After fourteen hours of being airborne, the last Ziva David wanted to hear was an annoyingly chipper voice. She was suffering from a severe case of jet lag, though no one would ever be able to tell behind her cool façade of calm and togetherness. Her dark hair fell freely against her tanned and chiseled features. No one would have guessed that the 17 year old clearing customs was also a trained assassin. A pissed off trained assassin to be precise. The man who stamped her passport was suspicious of her looking her up and down as if she had a bomb strapped to her, Ziva then spat at the man,

"For God sakes! Do you think I have a bomb strapped to me? Just because I'm Israeli doesn't mean I'm a terrorist!"

The man quickly stamped I and let her pass. She power walked through baggage and saw a the name 'Jenny Shepard' appear on her phone. A name she had not seen and dearly missed for quite some time,

"Shalom Jenny"

"Shalom Ziva, did you clear customs yet?"

"Yes, after the man at the counter looked me up and down as if I was a terrorist! I'm grabbing my bag right now."

"I'll see you soon Ziva."

"Shalom."

With that Ziva clicked her phone shut shoving it back into her pocket. After reading several frustrating sets of directions she was finally almost out of that god forsaken airport. She kept walking, the constant thud of her combat boots on the floor making a rhythmic beat. As she stepped out into the pickup line she saw a familiar flash of red hair. Ziva smiled a bit and they both walked over to each other and hugged. Jenny ruffled Ziva's hair and smirked,

"It's been all to long Ziva."

"It has been Jenny. Far, far too long."

With that they both strode side by side towards the car. The Israeli and the woman with the fiery red hair side by side. Jenny motioned for someone to pop the trunk and Ziva put her bags in and sat in the back seat. She sat back lulling in and out of sleep. Jenny checked the rearview mirror and chuckled,

"Jet lag?"

"Indeed."

Jenny did not introduce the driver yet, as she felt it was not the right time. Not the right time to tell her that she was married, and had a daughter. Not the right time. As block after block passed Ziva looked out the window.

"Jenny? After I unpack would it be alright if I went for a run, I haven't ran in days…."

"Sure Ziva."

Ziva gave a nod of appreciation and before she knew it, the old home came into view and Ziva smiled,

"I've heard so many stories about this house. As if it was a real person?"

"It's been in my family for ages."

Ziva smiled and asked,

"Is it your home though?"

"Yes."

Jenny replied knowing what Ziva had meant. There was a difference between a house and a home. As the car pulled to a stop Ziva opened her door and the trunk was once again opened. She pulled each one out with ease and slung it over her toned shoulder. She had a luggage in tow, along with two other duffels on her arms. She could fit almost everything in those few bags. As Jenny opened the door she stepped back to let Ziva enter. Ziva gazed around the large house. It's rustic feel was cozy. As she was in the midsts of awe she was hugged by a girl. She wore two pig tails on the side of her head, her hair jet black. Ziva hugged back giving Jenny a confused look, the girl began,

"It's so nice to actually meet you! I'm Abby!"

Ziva gave a nod and said,

"Ziva. Ziva David."

Ziva put out her hand but was engulfed in a hug. Jenny noticing Ziva's confusion added,

"Abby's my daughter she's a freshman this year."

Ziva gave a nod of thanks and then asked,

"Which is my room so I may put my stuff down."

Jenny smiled and said,

"You still have to meet on person, my husband."

Leroy Jethro Gibbs entered from outside. The same man that was the driver. He did not say anything but simply inspected her thoroughly. Ziva extended her hand,

"Ziva David."

He smirked at her and said,

"Gibbs."

Ziva then was shown to her room. She had unpacked her clothes and folded some into drawers, well until she found here running clothes. Her few pieces of clothing that she loved. She had three Nike sports running bras that she used. She received one for Hanukah for the past three years. She slipped on one and threw on some spandex shorts. She tied her free hair into a tight pony tail and tied her shoes. As she walked down the stairs from her second floor bedroom she was confronted by Gibbs he saw her about to leave and asked her,

"Where are you going dressed like that Officer David."

"For a run, I'll be back within three hours."

Just as Gibbs was about to comment once again on her attire Jenny intervened. She spoke,

"Alright Ziva."

Ziva gave a nod and just as she was about to close the door Gibbs opened it up again and spoke,

"Dinner will be ready in two hours."

Ziva nodded once again and went for a run. She had been running for about an hour when another runner collided with her. Ziva got up slowly, and the mystery man offered her his hand. She declined it and stood up.

Ziva began to run again as she felt the man catch her arm. She instantly spun backwards and flipped him to the ground and answered,

"What? What do you want?"

The man just chuckled and said,

"I was just going to ask you if you would like to get coffee with me sometime."

Ziva just smiled and checked her watch. She didn't even respond but began to sprint back to her house. Within 45 minutes she was back to the house and ran in. She could smell the waft of food and waltzed up the stairs and jumped into the shower. Within fifteen minutes she was showered and changed and slid down the banister of the stairs. Jenny was just about to walk into the dining room when she saw Ziva sliding down and began to laugh,

"You are so much like your mother Ziva."

Ziva blushed and walked into the dining room taking the spot near Abby. Jenny was across from her and Gibbs diagonal. Jenny spoke as the food was bringing brought out,

"Ziva, did your father inform you of anything education wise?"

Ziva chuckled and said,

"Jenny, he told me to pack my bags three hours before my flight. I didn't know I was even leaving Israel until then."

"That does sound Eli…"

Jenny laughed and then continued,

"You will be attending Webster Academy starting tomorrow. It is segregated between the men and the woman. The mens side is a military school, as the ladies is a private school which focuses on the languages, math, and english."

Ziva nodded but Jenny continued,

"You will be the first woman to be ever attending the mens side of the school, though your languages and health class will be at the woman's academy."

Ziva smiled with delight,

"So, I won't be at an all girls school an entire time?"

"No, though you do have to wear the girls uniform, which I warn you has a skirt."

Ziva sat politely and ate in a daze, she was snapped out of it by a head slap and instantly said (in Hebrew)

"Yes Papa?"

Jenny smirked at Ziva and then Gibbs spoke.

"There are some rules here Ziva, the ground ones are, no boys in the house without our permission unless, we tell you otherwise, curfew is 3 a.m. unless granted otherwise."

Gibbs named several others before he then asked,

"Are we clear Officer David."

"Yes Sir."

Ziva collected her plate and cleaned it, and the dried it by hand. Without a sound, she walked back stairs and continued to unpack. As she opened her closet she saw her uniform and sighed. She ran her fingers over the blazer and compared its clean sleek look to the cargo pants she had grown so accustomed to. As she placed both pieces of clothing back into the closet her eyes began to burn with hot tears. She missed the comforts and familiarity of Israel, she missed the place she knew. As she held back the tears she set her gun and knife on the nightstand. She began to prepare for bed. It might have been only 8:30, but she was planning on going running tomorrow. She was in her usual tank top and cargos as she ran down the stairs into Jenny's study.

"Jenny, what time does school start tomorrow?"

"The first bell rings at the men's school is 0800, which is where you will have most of your classes ."

"I'll be up at 0300. I'll go for a run and then get ready and catch the metro bus at 0700."

"Your leaving earlier than you need."

"In Mossad, if you're not an hour early you are dead."

"We do have a spare car for you here Ziva and I know you have a license because Eli told me so."

Jenny tossed her the keys and brought her out to the car. It was a proshe carerra sport.

"It's my old car, enjoy it."

"Thank you Jenny."

Ziva ran her hand along the door and sat in awe. Ziva was never a car person mostly because, she was never a very good driver. Correction she was very good at being a very bad driver. As she gave the car one final glance she sighed and walked back into the house, and to her room. Soon enough she was in bed, gun clutched under her pillow. After she was asleep for about an hour she heard the door creak open and instantly drew her gun. Jenny laughed and said,

"It's ok Ziva it's just me. I was just checking on you, and quite frankly I forgot you slept with a gun."

Jenny exited and Ziva fell back to sleep only to woken at three a.m. by her alarm clock. She quickly got ready and pulled her hair back. She slid her gun inside her running shorts pocket, and her dagger in her custom made sports bra. She then tiptoed down stairs to see Gibbs there with the light on. He smirked at said,

"Curfew is at 3am David."

"I've been asleep since 8:30, I go for a run at three a.m. for usually about 3 hours, and then shower, and then go to school. Do you have an objection?"

Gibbs was about to say something before Jenny came out of the master and said,

"Jethro, I gave her permission to go for a run. No need to worry."

With that Ziva was already out the door and jogging. She saw the sun begin to rise and once again was face by the man, except this time they didn't collide.

He gave her a wave and she gave a nod trying to be polite. She had ran an hour and thirty minutes one-way and it was time to head back. She did a sprint for back home, passing the still unnamed guy. He had a charming smile, sun kissed hair, and tan skin. Ziva was back into the house at 5:59 am. She then jumped into shower, and in under 15 minutes was in her uniform and her hair was tied back into a pony tail. She wore no makeup and her face was still flawless. Though, she felt out of place in the uniform. Well, she felt out of place if it wasn't cargo pants and a tank top usually. She walked down the stairs with her backpack in hand. She was wearing the little white flats Jenny had put in her closet, but in her backpack she had her combat boots, cargo shorts, and under her blouse she wore a tank top. Concealed into her skirt, she had her fun and she had one knife on her ankle concealed by a sock and another concealed in her bra. As annoying as those things could be, they made for good storage. As she was about to swipe the car keys off the counter Gibbs grabbed her arm.

"Ziva, your not going to a school with a gun on you. Give it."

Ziva begrudgingly gave it up. Gibbs looked at her and smirked,

"And your backup."

Ziva tossed him the even smaller gun.

"And the knife." Ziva reached for her ankle and he joked,

"You can keep that one, just remember that I know."

Ziva gave a nod and got into the car. She backed out slowly and then drove down the street. As she turned she accidently went onto the left side. What can you blame her? She spent a year in the U.K. on an assassination mission, it's not the easy to teach an old dog new tricks. She checked her dash and it said in bold 7:14 A.M. Ziva smiled as she pulled into the parking lot finding her space. As she exited her and was walking into the building she was caught by the arm of the no name jogger,

"The girls school is over there sweet cheeks."

He pointed across the parking lot and Ziva responded,

"I know."

Ziva stood in front of the door rummaging through her backpack until she found her card to admit her in. She slid it in and much to all the guys amazement she opened the door and walked in. She maneuvered through the halls trying to find her locker until she came across it, locker 174. She smiled as she opened it and placed her books in. As she was about to go back outside she heard her name being called from the other side of the hallway.

"Officer David."

Ziva spun around and walked towards the man,

"Leon Vance, I'm the headmaster of the school."

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Vance, and Ziva works just fine."

"Please, come into my office so we can chat about your schedule and accommodations."

Ziva followed him and he closed the door behind her,

"You are aware you are the first female student this institution had ever had? Correct? "

"Yes sir."

"Due to that matter, I expect the same from you as the rest of the men in this academy."

Ziva smirked and said,

"Sir, you do realize I was trained by the best correct?"

"I was talking academic."

"I'm fluent in 10 languages, I know how to construct a bomb and unwire a bomb in less then a minute, which takes a large amount of math and science."

"Very Well Officer, I mean Ziva you are dismissed."

Ziva collected her backpack and then said,

"Have a pleasant day Mr. Vance."

Ziva checked her watch 7:33 she sighed and decided to drop her books in what her schedule said 'home room.' She then walked back outside to were the group of guys was previously sitting. She joined the group and they all looked at her inquisitively the no name jogger finally spoke,

"Sweet cheeks isn't about time you run along to the girls school."

"I have 'home room' here."

Ziva said putting air quotes around the words. She then asked exasperatedly

"What does that even mean?"

All the guys laughed thinking she was joking before they saw her stony glare, Mr. no name piped up and said,

"Guys I think she's serious."

He stuck out his hand,

"Anthony DiNozzo, but you can call me Tony."

Ziva shook it her grip slightly harder than his and said,

"Officer Ziva David, though Ziva is what I prefer."

The men looked at her and asked in unison,

"Officer."

Ziva then put one finger up telling them to wait. She slide her backpack off and dug through her stuff till she found it. Her credentials. She grabbed it and flashed it. First the badge and then the inside explaining who she was. It was written in English and in Hebrew. The men looked at her and said,

"Mossad. You are Israeli, " One of them said.

"Very good. Though I'm surprised you couldn't tell from my accent." Tony then stepped towards her and asked,

"What is a Mossad officer doing at a school in the states?"

"Classified."

Ziva said to him slipping her credentials back into her backpack. As she did found her extra back up for her back up. Her face lit up and she saw it. She walked away out of sight and smiled. She thought to herself, Tali's gun… She slipped it into the place in her skirt and continued into the building with an extra sway in her hips. It was around time for the bell to ring and slipped into the classroom. She was the first one there and the teacher looked at her quizzically,

"Darling, the girls school is across the street."

"I know m'am. If you would check your roster you would see my name, Ziva David. It may or may not have O. in front of it. "

The teacher looked through it and was shocked,

"Alright then, welcome to the school. I'll be your history teacher. If I may ask is your accent Israeli?"

"Yes indeed it is."

"So you are bilingual?"

"I am multilingual. I'm fluent in ten languages, though English is my weakest, American idioms drive me up the hall."

DiNozzo walked in and said,

"Ziva, up the wall not hall."

Ziva shot him a little glare before taking her seat. She felt trapped in a school, in a class room. She missed running in the open, or running from people out in the open in another case. She missed being able to shoot. She just wanted to go home. She heard her phone begin to vibrate, it was still before school hours, it wasn't against the rules. She saw the caller ID Eli David and became nervous, no one else could have died that she loved, they were all already dead. She snapped open her phone and spoke in Hebrew,

"Papa, class starts soon what do you need?"

"Michael will be visiting you shortly as protection Ziva. I have already spoken Jenny and Agent Gibbs."

"I do not need protection Papa!"

"Ziva, please this once obey me."

"When do I not? When do I not? I came to America with little to no warning, no questions. Just followed. Listen to me ONCE I do not need protection."

"ZIVA. Do not speak to your father like that!" He roared, and then someone came into his office.

"Ziva we will finish this conversation later, I must go."

"Shalom."

"Shalom."

Ziva clicked her phone shut and threw it into her bag. She noticed the teacher, Tony and the few other kids in the room staring at her. She looked at them and yelled,

"WHAT?"

Tony approached her desk and asked,

"Daddy Troubles?"

"Zip up." Ziva spat at him.

He simply chuckled and said,

"It's either shut up, or zip it."

The first bell rang and students began to run into the classroom. Heads were turned towards her and when the announcements came on, she was stumbling on the pledge of allegiance. Then prayer came on. As the mention of the word 'Jesus' she brought her hand to her necklace and though Oh, it is not just a rich kid school, it is a Christian rich kid school. She thought of Tali, and soon enough announcements were over and people were saying intentions. Ziva raised her hand and said,

"For Tali, and Ari."

Hearing herself say the names again sent chills down her back. As the bell rang she looked at her schedule, P.E. She smiled and went to talk to the teacher about her uniform. The teacher looked at her and asked,

"Shouldn't you be on the other side of the parking lot?"

"I only have two classes there. My name is Ziva David, there may or may not be an O in front of my name. "

The woman looked down at her roster and saw the O.

"What does the O. stand for?"

"Officer."

"Of what?"

"Mossad."

The lady just laughed and Ziva rummaged through her back pack and flashed her credentials. The woman's eyes widened and said,

"Alright then, let me try to find you a uniform." The woman went to look for a uniform and threw it at her. Ziva caught it and the woman said,

"Since this is a boys school we do not have female locker rooms, or bathrooms on this floor, so if you would like to go use the men's restroom to change that will be fine."

Ziva laughed and said,

"At Mossad all locker rooms are Co-ed."

Ziva simply waltzed into the locker room and threw off her shirt, and put on her other one, readjusting her knife. All the guys were staring at her body and she finally said.

"What? There is nothing to look at!"

Ziva then took of her skirt sliding her shorts on. She then rummaged through her bad to find the thigh holster she clipped it on, and holstered her gun and changed into her combat boots. She readjusted her throwaway knife and walked out with all the guys still staring at her she then spun around and yelled,

"And stop staring at my ass!" Ziva was one of the first people in the gym and she just waited for instruction. She stood straight and then the teacher once again laughed,

"David, boots really?"

"They are much better for running than tennis shoes, or so I have learned."

She looked down and dusted some of the dirt off. She smirked and then she saw a few guys throwing a ball into a basket. She looked quizzically and asked,

"So what are we suppose to do ma'am?"

"Well, we are starting today with the pacer test. Each level has 10 beeps, and there are a total of 200 levels, though no one has ever passed 120."

Ziva smirked and said,

"I'll take that as a challenge."

She began to stretch and ended up in the splitz. She did dance when she was young and never lost her flexibility. She was muscular and limber. Soon enough they were called to begin the test and the whole group ran. Level by level men started dying off until it was only her and Tony. The British voice then said,

"The Start of Level 121."

It was a new school record and they were still going strong. At around 167 Tony dropped off, but Ziva was still going without breaking a sweat. 200 inched nearer and nearer and she was finally there. She had gone through the whole pacer test. Only one bead a sweat was visible, and her breath was only a little out of rhythm. The teacher looked flabbergasted and there was a roar of applause. She was about to walk into the locker room to get changed when the teacher asked her,

"How did you do that?"

"I've ran two days straight in the desert with a car chasing me, I was dodging bullets and firing them. My father when I was younger use to make me do this test twice a day everyday."

"Well, welcome to Webster Ziva."

Ziva gave a nod in thanks and went into the lockeroom to change. Her hair was barely out of place, and she looked as if she had just came from home. As she changed she fiddled with the holsters again and the guys all were looking at how she handled her gun. She sighed at the memories that flooded back as she held the gun. She sighed and accidentally said aloud,
"Tali."
At noticing her slip up she simply proceeded to get changed and sadly took of her combat boots. They were one of her most prized possessions. Tali had given them to her years ago. She bought them a few sizes too big, but she always wore them. They had scuffs from over the years, and held within the ragged leather memories and stories that filled her past. She was quickly dresses and all her weapons were secure she looked at her schedule and saw she had English next. She ran out of the doors and sprinted into the girls school. She navigated her way into the English classroom and made it before the bell. She sat in an empty seat and listened to the teacher drawl on and on about her expectations. English, her worst language and her least favorite class. The teacher kept speaking and then called role. Ziva's full title was called.

"Officer Ziva David."

"Here, but it is pronounced da-VEED"

The teacher smiled and continued on. She finally got to the lesson.

"The first thing we will be studying this year is figurative language. Yay!"

The teacher said enthusiastically.

"This week we will be covering idioms. Can anyone define an idiom for my please?"

She looked around the class room and asked,

"Can you tell me the definition Zzzzzzzziva?"

"A group of words that means something completely different from the group of words themselves."

Ziva shook her head and thought, American idioms drive me up the hall…..wait or is it wall…. The class continued and finally the bell rang. She looked at her schedule, she had to rush to get to Health. She entered the room. Ziva looked around the room and thought the human body again? I had to learn everything about it before I got a real gun. So the class drawled on and Ziva's eyes glazed over. Finally the bell rang and as she was about to leave the room she was called to his desk,

"Ziva, I'm sorry to ask, but what does the O. stand for?"

"Officer." Ziva said very matter-of-factly.

"Officer of what?"

"Mossad."

With that Ziva left the room and sprinted back to the boys campus. She had two more classes then lunch.

Ziva had walked into the cafeteria and saw every table filled. She had been used to being surrounded by men, but at Mossad she felt as if she blended in. Here she was what everyone was talking about. She was flagged down by Tony, and not knowing where else to sit sat next to him. She unpacked her lunch and ate some cold rice brown rice mixed with chicken. They all looked at her as if she was crazy. She then said speaking with her mouthful for the first time in her life,

"What?"

All the guys laughed and then asked,

"Is that what you always eat for lunch?"

"Usually rice with chicken, or two falafels."

"Falafels?"

Ziva looked through her lunch and grabbed one she reached for ankle and drew her throw away knife. She cut it and handed a piece to each of the guys. Ziva then grabbed her napkin and cleaned the blade slipping it back into it's place on her ankle.

All of the guys looked at eachother and then asked,

"How do you eat that?"

Ziva took one from her lunch and ate it with a smile.

"Delicious."

The guys all laughed a bit and it went silent. Ziva ate in peace until her phone went off. It was her father.

"Please excuse me."

She flipped open her phone and walked outside.

"Papa."

"Shalom Ziva, I know you are at school, but Michael will be arriving tonight. I expect you to pick him up from the airport."

"Alright Abba."

"I will speak with you soon Tataleh, and it will include about your mannerisms."

"Shalom."

Ziva walked back in and sat down her brows furrowed. Of all people he had to send Michael? Her ex-boyfriend to be her protection. All of them picked up on her frustration and then Tony finally asked,

"Ninja, is everything alright?"

"Yes it is fine." She snapped angrily at him.

"What did dear old daddy say that made you so upset."

Ziva punched him hard in the shoulder and he winced in pain.

"I said I was fine."

Ziva got up and collected her stuff and walked out the dining hall sizzling with anger. She simply walked to her next class and smiled when she arrived. It was the military part time. Where they learned the basis of guns and more. Ziva had waltzed in and looked for the instructor. She knocked on a door and then walked in to see a fit muscular man typing away at his computer. He looked her up and down and said,

"Darlin, the girls school is across the street."

"I do not attend the girls school for more than two classes sir."

"Well, how can I help you ma'am."

"I was wondering if the shooting range was open. I have my gun and bullets."

"That's against the law ma'am."

"My father arranged with the school accomadations to fit my usual standards sir."

"Who is your father."

"Eli David, Director of Mossad."

"And you are?"

"Officer Ziva David sir."

The clicked and he stood up and shook her hand.

"I was told you were going to be helping me instruct the class."

"I was not informed, but I would be glad to."

Ziva then asked once again,

"Is the range open?"

"Yes it is, you may go right in, just sign in please."

Ziva scribbled her name and took out Tali's hand gun. She ran her finger over the engraving TD. She sighed and raised the weapon. She set off a few rounds and the man came in and saw he smirked. Ziva pulled off the sheet of paper and handed it to him,

"It's two centimeters off."

"How would you know?"

Ziva shoved the paper to his chest and moved to align it. She then did another round and fire each time precisely through the middle.

"I know because I never miss a target, and I've practically lived on a firing range my whole life."

Ziva cleaned her gun quickly and then strapped it her leg once again. She stalked up to the man and said,

"Since I will be helping you teach may I please go change."

"Yes ma'am."

Ziva strode happily into the guys locker room. She gladly slipped off her skirt and traded it in for her cargo pants. They still had a few small grains of sand in the pockets. She smiled as it brought back thoughts of home. She then took of her blouse grabbing her black tank, and pulled her hair back. She placed her Star of David necklace so it was visible, laced up her combat boots, In autopilot she looped her badge through her belt loop, and holstered her gun on her hip. Her knives were In place and she walked back out in the comforts of what seemed like home. As she was walked out some guys were walking in and they were looking her up and down. Her tank was a little short, but it was also held so many fond memories. As she entered the open area she saw Rivkin standing before her. She spoke in angry rapid Hebrew to him,

"You are here early. I was suppose to pick you up after class."

"Ziva the terms we previously left on were not too well, I thought you might not pick me up in spite."

"You could've jogged Michael."

"I caught a cab, much more pleasant."

There was now a crowd of boys around them. There body language was calm though Ziva spoke with fire. Ziva simply said to him in Hebrew,

"go to hell."

*Flashback*

The room was blurry with tears, shapes unclear, and tempers flared. The world was spinning and out of control. Emotions had fought their way back into her life and had made his rejection seamlessly impossible to forget. The words, "profession before love Ziva." were etched into her mind. She missed the caress of his gentle lips on her skins, she missed him. He had broken it off.

*End of Flashback*

She walked off but was quickly reprimanded by his touch. It still sent chills down her spine. His hand connected with her face. She slapped him once again and the sound of hand and skin connecting echoed. As this series continued Ziva walked away dismissing another slap, but once again he grabbed her arm though this time she was not as civilized. She flipped him, and he ended up on his back on the floor. He tripped Ziva but they were both up quickly. Guns were drawn and aimed, but they both couldn't help from laughing. It brought back memories of their first encounter. They both simultaneously holstered their weapons and Ziva gave him a kiss on the cheek,

"I missed sparring with you."

She mumbled in his ear. He smirked and drew her in for a kick kiss on the lips but she ended up punching him in the gut. Ziva smirked and said,

"Not here…"

He whined a little and then said,

"Fine my tateleh."

He knew how Ziva did not like people calling her that. Only Ari could call her that without a glare of hate. Though he was dead. The name was what she use to call her dear sister Tali, and the words simply brought back painful memories. Her father still used that name, though sadness and the want for revenge raged through her every time she heard that word. Ziva turned back to face him and elbowed him in the stomach.

"Never."

The guys watched in astonishment and jealousy. They were not the ones who got to feel her lips on their skin. The men looked at Rivkin with hate, and Ziva and him walked side by side in ridged posture chatting in Hebrew amongst themselves. The instructor came over to Ziva and spoke,

"As much as your little fight was entertaining, please do not draw you weapons at each other again."

Ziva responded,

"Yes sir."

Ziva then looked at Rivkin and said,

"He better be happy I didn't draw a knife instead."

"You do have accuracy ziva."

As the class began Ziva stood by the instructor and Michael stood next to Ziva, his hand was inching closer and closer to her butt and she discreetly elbowed him. The instructor continued to talk until Ziva took the floor. She talked about how a gun was not a toy but a weapon, and the face off and the man she introduced as Officer Rivkin, had been highly trained and how drawing their weapons at each other predated to when then where three years of age. Soon enough the men were given uniforms and as the bell began to approach Ziva was driven from the comforts of home back into the locker room to change into the oh so girly uniform. As she got changed Rivkin stood infront of her shielding her from view as all the guys were following orders by trying on the uniforms. He looked back and saw a faded scar and chuckled,

"It still hasn't gone away."

"No but the memory that came from it is still worth it."

He handed Ziva her blouse and turned back around to see all the men staring at Ziva's body. He glared at them and Ziva smirked and whispered in Hebrew,

"You always were the jealous type."

Soon enough Ziva was back into the uniform and exiting with the ballet flats back on and Michael commented,

"You know this is the first time I've seen you in a skirt."

Ziva simply punched him lightly and looked at her schedule.

"Foreign language next. French. This will be an easy class."

Michael laughed and said,

"Why not challenge yourself and take Latin?"

"Because, it is a dead language."

Michael simply rolled his eyes and walked to the classroom, only the teacher was there and looked surprised to see her.

The teacher said with a smirk,

"Darling, the girl school is across the street, run along don't you have classes to attend?"

"Sir, I attend this school. Officer Ziva David."

The man looked at his roster and smiled,

"Oh yes, I forgot, I heard about you. You are certainly causing a stir among the men in this institution. Ziva, may I ask who your friend is."

Rivkin stepped forward,

"Michael Rivkin, I'm here to oversee Ziva."

Ziva turned around and spat at him in Hebrew,

"Though, I am and always will be a higher rank than you"

The teacher chuckled and said,

"Hebrew, so you are bilingual?"

"I am multilingual, I speak ten languages fluently meaning I can read, write, and speak it with ease."

"Which ten?"

"Arabic, Turkish, Pashto, German, Italian, French, Spanish, Russian, English, and obviously Hebrew."

The teacher smiled and said to her in French,

"Very well then, you are early, though taking a seat would be fine."

Ziva replied putting on her authentic French accent and responded,

"Thank you."

Rivkin simply whispered in her ear as they were walking,

"Pari…"

Ziva smirked and sat down. She looked at him and a small smile crept crossed her mouth,

"I miss it Michael. Why can't Papa understand that I can take of myself."

"He doesn't want to lose you motek."

"He doesn't want to lose me or 'the sharp end of the spear?'

Rivkin looked into Ziva's getting lost in their warm chocolate color. The bell rang and students once again came into the class. She still had all eyes on her, and Rivkin still sending glares at them.

The teacher began to talk and then asked,

"So students, how much French do you know?"

Ziva smirked a bit and was sent a glare from Rivkin

The teacher then asked,

"Who in this room is fluent?"

Only Ziva's hand was raised. The teacher then asked Ziva to say something in French and she thought for a little while,

"The star worn around my neck, is not a symbol of religion alone, it reminds me of those whom I am fighting for. Those dear that I have lost, those who I will never cease to remember."

The teacher looked reproachful and spoke,

"Beautifully done."

He then asked,

"Anyone wish to translate what Miss. David said?"

A geekish looking guys raised his hand and responded looking at his laptop,

"The star worn around my neck, is not a symbol of religion alone, it reminds me of the whom I am fighting for. Those dear that I have lost, those who I will never cease to remember."

Ziva smiled at him and the teacher began to try to compute the overall knowledge of the class. The bell rang and Ziva was about to leave when she asked to stay behind.

"Miss David."

Ziva walked to his desk with Michael in toe,

"This is a personal question but would you like to explain to me what you meant by your little sentence in class."

"No Sir."

The final bell had rung and people were at their lockers chatting. A group of men had assembled around Ziva's locker simply gazing at her. She took a few books out and said in Hebrew,

"I haven't had written homework since I learned English."

"I'll help you with it motek."

"Oh and you will be much help?"

As they exited the school Ziva ran into Tony she gave him a pleasant smile, and he waved in return walking towards her.

"Ziva, would you like to come over to my house tonight, or go for a run together."

"I run alone."

"The other offer still stands."

Rivkin butted in,

"I'm sorry Ziva has plans for tonight."

Ziva looked at Tony and scribbled down her number,

"Some other time in the near future perhaps?"

Ziva threw her stuff into the car and drove to her current home. When she walked in she saw Jenny and Gibbs talking and smiled,

"I'm home."

Gibbs looked at Ziva and eyed the man standing beside her,

"Who is he?"

Jenny interjected,

"Her father wanted another set of eyes to watch over her Gibbs, this is Officer Rivkin."

Rivkin extended his hand and said,

"Michael will do just fine."

As they both were walking up the stairs Jenny yelled up at them,

"Your job to figure out the sleeping arrangements."

Ziva smirked and walked into her room and flopped onto her bed. He commented,

"You lazy woman, do your homework."

"You sound like Papa."

Rivkin was digging through her backpack and pulled out her text book,

"Math."

Ziva moved towards the small desk in the corner of her room and said,

"Teacher manual."

Ziva began to copy down the answers before Rivkin swiped it away along with her paper,

"Not so fast motek."

Ziva snatched the paper back and grabbed her math text book. She looked at it and began to write rapidly. Ziva was smart without a doubt, you couldn't defuse a bomb in under two minutes if you weren't. Rivkin was looking over her shoulder and mentally solving them and gave her a 'finger tap' every time she got one wrong. By the time the problems were finished she had a purple bruise forming above the pressure point. She had no other homework and decided it would be a good time to go for a run. She simply changed in front of him as if there was no problem. She was use to it truly. She had changed into her running clothes and said,

"Going for a run, I'll be back in a few hours."

"Ziva, I have to go with you."

Ziva approached him and said,

"I run alone."

Rivkin was about to respond when she walked out of the room closing the discussion. She jogged down the stairs, and out the door avoiding all questions. She began to pick up her pace, but she could her the pitter patter of footsteps behind her she looked back and there was nothing. She was armed and dangerous. She felt them near and she turned around to see a man walking towards her, she spotted a hand gun poking out of his pocket and she stood still. He smirked and brought up his gun,

"I wouldn't think killing a David would be this easy."

Ziva smirked as he was about to pull back the trigger and brought the man to the ground,

"it isn't."

The first rang through the air. The bullets grazed her and she drew hers only to feel a sharp stab. She mentally scolded herself, you should've seen that coming. She though was unfazed she simply decked the guy into unconsciousness and called the police. Her exposed gap was oozing blood, and the cut was clear across her back. She heard sirens approach and heard a voice. She kept her eyes on the man, just in case he woke up. The voice belonged to Tony. He sprinted towards her and saw her back. He simply asked,

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"The blood trailing down your back seems to differ."

"I'm fine!"

She spat at him,

"I was to slow and stupid." She scolded herself once again. At home she would have received a beating for this. She had been injured, and it was not a small or shallow cut. It was deep it was long. She had failed. She saw another car come into view, Jenny and Gibbs were in it. Tony was near her almost afraid to approach her and Ziva still had the gun angled. Jenny got out of the car along with Gibbs and stood. Ziva's face was note contorted in pain, neither was it panicked. It was calm, a mask of tranquility. Her stance was as if nothing had happened and as if being attacked on a jog was an everyday thing. Ziva gave a wave to her two guardians and Jenny caught a side glimpse of her back. The police cars finally arrived accompanied by an ambulance. Though she insisted she was fine, no one would take her word for it. The police looked at her as if she was crazy. They had yet to find out who she was. She was asked her name and she spat,

"Ziva David."

The men look at each other as if the last name had clicked into their minds. Her accent, her resemblance to her father, that's when they realized she no ordinary teenage girl. She was born and raised to kill. And trained to ultimately strike at the heart of Israel's enemies. As she was being question, she saw a shuffle of feet ducking out of site. She saw the a piece of fabric from a trench coat sticking out from behind a bush. She got up drawing her weapon and neared the bush she grabbed from the piece of stray fabric and quickly brought the accomplice out of hiding. He though had quicker reflexed than his partner. He hand gun for Ziva's leg, and stabbed her, bringing her to the ground. She though pinned him and the fight for who would stay on top began. Other officers rushed and she got up limping a bit. She had simply asked for band aid from the paramedics, and the world soon went on it's normal course. That is until Gibbs and Jenny spoke up. She had been forced to ride in the car back even though her back was still bleeding. She had failed, again. She closed her eyes until she heard the sharp voice of Jenny echo through the vehicle,

"Ziva."

"Yes?"

"Who where they."

"Most likely hit man hired by some of the many people I have as American would say 'pissed off.'"

The car fell silent and they once again reached the house. Ziva walked in to check the bandages. She locked the bathroom door and began to cry silently. She had failed. She had failed her father. More though she had failed herself. She was suppose to be untouchable, though now her body was cut and serrated. This was not the Ziva David way. She heard the voice of Rivkin talking in rapid Hebrew on the phone. It sent chills up her spine. Who was he talking to…her father. She heard a calm knock on the door and splashed some cold water on her face before opening it. Jenny stood infront of her, her red hair pulled up, her eyes were filled with worry though her she kept a façade of serenity.

"How are you Ziva?"

"I'm fine, I don't have a bullet in my head I. Am. Fine."

She said steadily afraid that her voice was going to crack at any minute. Jenny than spoke,

"Let your back speak for itself."

Ziva then said to Jenny,

"I am fine. Please, I need to go."

As Ziva attempted to walk out the door Jenny caught her arms and swung her around. The blood was seeping through the bandages. Her eyes followed down to her shorts were she could see the ends up small scars and cuts. She examined it more closely, whippings. Jenny steadily looked up and asked her,

"Is that what you didn't want me to see?"

Ziva simply closed her eyes and jenny carefully hugged her trying not irritating the gash on her back. Ziva then walked out and up to her room to see Rivkin sitting on her bed with the phone by his ear,

"She's here Director."

Ziva thought to herself Director?

As she was passed the phone the man spoke,

"Ziva…"

She instantly recognized the voice,

"Papa."

"I heard you were injured. Dot let it happen again, there is a mission that I'm assigning to you, and I cannot proceed with a wounded agent."

"Yes, Papa."

"Shalom Tateleh"

"Shalom Papa."

Ziva threw the phone back at Rivkin and he caught it in the air. He walked towards her wrapping his arms around her waist making sure not touch her back. He gave her a small kiss on the neck and said as he felt Ziva's body tense at his embrace,

"How are you motek."

Ziva pushed away from him and said,

"I don't have a bullet through my head do I? I'm fine."

Ziva yelled at him. She walked out the room and into Abby's locking the door behind her. Ziva sat on Abby's bed and Ziva questioned,

"Whats up Zi?"

Ziva sighed and said,

"I never thought I'd be saying this but, guys."

Ziva gave herself a 'thumb tap' at how stupid she sounded.

"Never mind I'll speak with you later Abby,"

"Ziva?"

"Please, I don't want to open up the can of works."

"Ziva, the expression is I don't want to open up this can of worms."

Ziva simple walked out and down stairs. She thirsted for home, even if it meant being smacked around (literally) she wanted to go home. She went outside in the backyard, sat down in the mulch by the fence and just thought. She was concealed by trees, though she kept her knife close and gun in hand. She felt the light sprinkle of rain and she smiled. Rain, a rare delight in the deserts of Israel. She looked into the sky and let the rain fall upon her, the wetness seeping through the bandages on her back. Though, she just smiled. She dug her toes into what was turning into mud and kept letting the rain soak her. She heard footsteps approach and then the yell of man rang through beyond the concealing foliage,

"Ziva?"

She smiled at the voice, Gibbs. She stood up and walked over to him, he was standing on the porch. He then asked her,

"What the hell are you doing out here in the rain?"

Ziva smiled and said,

"I haven't seen rain in years I haven't felt it in years."

"The deserts like that, now get your ass back inside."

Ziva obediently obliged and walked in shaking like a dog before, though stepping out of Gibbs's way before hand. She walked in and rubbed her feet on the matt trying to get some of the mud of her feet,

"Go jump in the shower David, it's getting late anway and I don't want to see more mud tracks than necessary."

"Yes sir."

"Will you stop calling me sir?"

"Yes Gibbs."

She smiled and ran into the shower. She though didn't lock the door. She heard it open and heard the voice of Rivkin echo in the bathroom,

"Mind if I join you?"

Ziva simply laughed and said,

"Brings back memories."

"Except this shower is much nicer than the one in the Mossad locker room."

"That it is."

Rivkin then stepped in and looked at Ziva's backside,

"There are a few new ones."

"Stop looking at my butt."

Rivkin smirked and grabbed some shampoo,

"He put some on his hair until he realized the fruitiness of the shampoo,

"Really Ziva?"

"What? if you don't like it don't use it!"

Ziva turned and snatched it from him lathering some in her hair,

"Some new ones on the front I see too."

"Those were from failures not like the others."

Ziva then began to use the soap and couldn't reach all around her back. Rivkin gingerly rubbed it on her back carefully applying some pressure to the wound. Ziva thanked him and got out of the shower wrapping a towel around herself. She tucked it neatly under her arm and proceeded to towel dry and comb out her mess of tangled hair. Rivkin was soon out of the shower and ran his fingers through her hair.

"It's still pretty tangled."

Ziva began to brush it faster until the brush broke in her hair. Rivkin carefully removed it and handed her his. She after an hour finished and slid on a tank top of and shorts. She strode down stairs and began to eat. In under 30 minutes she had consumed a bag of cookies, a bowl of popcorn, diced an ate a whole bushel of celery, a cup of pudding, and a half a glass of red wine. She cleaned her backup knife that she diced the celery with and carefully put it back on her ankle. Jenny and Gibbs walked into the kitchen to see her cleaning up,

"Did you eat everything but the house Ziva?"

Jenny asked with a grin,

"No just some cookies, celery, popcorn, and a little bit of pudding."

"How many cookies? How much celery? How much popcorn? And how much is a little bit of pudding?"

Ziva opened the trash can and said,

"the whole pack of cookies which contained 17 cookies, the bushel of celery, a bag of popcorn, and a cup of pudding."

"You are like a rabbit with a sweet tooth."

Gibbs noticed the red wine on the counter,

"What did you to drink with all that Ziva?"

"Half a glass of red wine, the usual."

"The 'usual'?"

Jenny looked at Gibbs and spoke,

"Ziva in the United States the drinking age Is twenty one."

Ziva looked at quizzically,

"So, I cannot drink red wine?"

"We would prefer if you would not."

Ziva then poured the remainder of her glass down the sink and continued to do the dishes. She had been drinking red wine ever since she could remember. It was what she had at every meal, well or scotch, or bourbon. With her friends, she would even have the occasional mojito, whiskey, vodka, or even a few shots of tequila. Ziva had cleaned the dishes, even the ones in the sink that were no hers. She had sharpened the dull knives in the knives drawer, and even arranged them from dullest to sharpest. Jenny and Gibbs appeared once again and Jenny asked,

"Ziva it is a school night what are you doing up?"

"Just thinking, I'll go to bed now if you would like."

"That would be preferred."

"Goodnight Jenny, goodnight….Gibbs.."

"Ziva?"

Jenny called,

"Come to NCIS headquarters after school tomorrow I'd like to discuss some things with you."

"Yes Ma'am."

Ziva got into her bed, and switched off the lights to find Rivkin still up, looking at the ceiling,

"I thought you were asleep."

She whispered as she crawled into bed under the covers. She rested her head on the crook of his neck and closed her eyes as she fell into the safety of his arms. The both held their guns whilst they sleep. Both of them still paranoid even in the depths of what was once to them as children the safety and comfort of sleep, now transformed into something that could sometime mean if not prepared certain death.

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