Ziva slammed herself down on her desk chair, angrily clicking her browser back open and bringing up her e-mail. She needed to vent, and right now, the only person she could do that to was thousands of miles away, back where she wished she was, as well.
She closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders, hoping to ease some of the tension that had gathered in the last few minutes. Hopefully McGee had good news, something that would make her smile or laugh.
Her wish was granted as she scanned through the message he'd sent her, smiling and even laughing a bit at his attempt at flirting. "I wonder how long it took him to write that," she muttered to herself, clicking on the "reply" button to form her own e-mail.
To: sexi_tech_master
From: mossad_babe
Subject: RE: Hello Again
McGee, I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am to have you e-mailing me, especially right now. If I were not so concerned about my father listening in on my phone calls, I would call you to talk.
Yes, I am not only working for my father now, but living with him again, as well. It was easier this way than having to stay in a hotel, not to mention safer. The security here is impeccable. However, I am nearly ready to check myself into even the seediest hotel after what my father pulled tonight.
He has arranged a man for me to marry. Can you imagine? Here I am, a grown woman, and he is attempting to take control of my life. Still! Just as he has always done. Do you know he did not approve of me coming to the States in the first place? No, he did not like that one bit. He felt it was foolish and stupid of me, even though it involved Ari.
Oh, look at me. You do not need to hear my rants about my father. I am sorry. It is just . . . I miss you. All of you. Sometimes all I would like is someone to talk to, and I do not often feel as though I have that with my father. It is frustrating, to say the least.
I apologize again for the ranting. It is simply nice to know there is someone on the other end who will listen.
She hesitated for a moment on how she should sign the e-mail, then typed the words, a brief smile flitting across her face as she did so. At least something could make her smile tonight.
Love,
Ziva
***
The day had been the longest he'd had in a long time. His publisher had set up appearances at three different stores to start publicity for his second book, which was soon to be released. He stumbled through his apartment door with every intention of making a bee-line to his bed and staying there for a few hours.
He kicked off his shoes once inside the door and peeled his jacket from his arms, slinging it over the back of his computer chair. He glanced at the screen and felt a sudden surge of energy. Logging into his email account, his fatigue was instantly forgotten as he saw the message from Ziva.
He read through the email, his brow furrowing further as he read. Ziva sounded utterly ticked off. He didn't blame her. He would be furious with his parents if they'd decided to say they'd found him a wife. He was sure he could find someone on his own. Reaching the end of her email, he focused on her sign off, and a smile formed on his face as the word hit him. He hit the 'reply' button and tried to keep his friendship voice in the forefront.
To: mossad_babe
From: sexi_tech_master
Subject: RE:RE: Hello Again
Somehow I was not expecting a message like that. I thought arranged marriages went out like fifty years ago, something I thought was more likely expected in other countries.
Oh, right, sorry. You are in another country. Sorry, I guess I'm still not used to you being so far away.
He stopped and looked over his message so far. Why, or should he say how, had she reduced him to his nervous, unintelligible babbling while she was miles away?
I'm sorry that you feel like running away from your father. Please don't feel that you'd have to stay at some seedy hotel. If anything, jump on the next transport to the States and you can take refuge in my apartment. I'll deal with the whole "harboring an illegal alien" or whatever it would be called.
Heh, I can just imagine what a first impression that would be for me with your father.
Uh, yeah, sir? Yeah, hi. You don't know me but I work with Ziva. You know, when she was with NCIS. Yeah, she was really upset that you are trying to control her life even though she's an adult and can make her own decisions. So, she's run away and is now hiding in my closet. Please don't tell anyone. I'll be sure to feed her.
What was he thinking? First, he vaguely flirts with her via email and now he was definitely flirting by inviting her to hide out in America, where there could really only be five people she could turn to for help.
He sighed. Even over an internet connection and the Atlantic Ocean, she still held an effect on him.
Sorry, forget I even wrote that. At the least, I hope it made you smile. I really miss you too. Uh, all of you, I mean. Not that I wouldn't miss you if you had been the only one reassigned. I… I'm just gonna shut up now.
He got to the end of his email and smiled, remembering her farewell and deciding on one of his own. He'd boldly flirted with her through emails and she'd yet to threaten his life beyond what would happen if he revealed her email to Tony. He took a deep breath and wrote his sign off before he could lose his nerve.
Yours,
McGee
***
"Ziva, you have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do."
Ziva spun to face her father, her eyes glowing with anger. "You have no right to control my life this way!" She began to pace the dining room, fury emanating from her every pore. As she passed by him again, she stopped. "What if I had told you I had already met someone, someone whom I would care to marry? What would you do then?"
"Have you, Zivaleh?" Eli raised an eyebrow at her, his tone hard, yet curious.
She paused, then admitted, "No. But," she raised a finger in defense, "that does not mean I will not. By doing this . . . you are not even allowing me the chance to find happiness on my own! Do you really want to subject me to that, Papa?"
Eli's expression was hard, but his eyes flickered with a hint of softness. "No, Ziva. I do not. But you are a grown woman, who has proven you are capable of taking care of yourself, and I will not wait forever for you to find someone, to have a family of your own!"
"Oh, so that is what this is about?" Ziva asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm and bitter incredulity. "You just want more impressionable children to turn into outstanding Mossad officers, yes?" She shook her head. "Any children I do have will never be subjected to such a dangerous life, Papa. I will not allow it."
With that, she turned on her heel and stomped away, leaving her father calling her name behind her.
As she reached the guest bedroom again, she slammed the door and sat down at her desk. She had been arguing non-stop with her father for the past three days on his arrangement to marry her off to this . . . Michael character. She was simply frustrated that he would not allow her to make her own decisions and felt that he knew what was best for her - even though he had stated he saw she could take care of herself.
The only thing she looked forward to anymore were Tim's e-mails and the possibility of returning to brought up a browser and typed in the address of her e-mail provider. As shewaited for the page to load, a sudden thought froze her - Tim? Yes, it was McGee's first name, but the fact that she had thought of him by it was . . . odd.
She shook the thought from her head and quickly logged in. There was nothing to it. She was simply . . . stressed, and it was playing with her mind. That was all it was.
As she had hoped, there was a message from Tim - no, McGee, waiting in her inbox. She clicked on it, and the awkward, yet endearing, words brought a smile to her face . . . and yet, as she read it again, and once more, tears pricked at her eyes and flowed over onto her cheeks.
She missed him. A lot. She was going through so much stress at the moment and all she wanted was to be able to see him in person, and rant to him, and have him listen, and maybe, maybe squeeze her hand or give her a comforting pat on the shoulder or, if they were feeling particularly adventuresome, he could wrap his arms around her shoulders and give her a hug, whispering into her ear that everything was going to be fine.
She sniffed and hit the reply button.
To: sexi_tech_master
From: mossad_babe
Subject: RE: RE: RE:Hello Again
McGee . . . Tim - can I call you Tim? I did not think you would mind, seeing as how it is your name. But this is not the purpose of our e-mails, I would think, me asking you what I can or cannot call you.
The situation with my father has not gotten any better. I have been arguing with him constantly since he announced his plans to me. He is of the belief that he knows what is best for me and that I will not find someone in time to produce children to become his new generation of trained assassins. Well, the trained assassin part is more my thoughts, but I am sure that is what he wants grandchildren for.
I . . . I do not have anyone here I can turn to. Sometimes it is all I can do to keep from crying, I am so frustrated! It feels as though my life is falling apart, and I have no control over what is to happen to me. It is stressful and unnerving and I am afraid of what will happen if I am not able to return to America soon.
I know I have said it in the other e-mails I have sent to you, but I do not know if you realized the seriousness of my words, that it was not something I was simply saying: I miss you. I want to be able to talk to you, and not just through a computer screen. If you have any sway with Director Vance at all . . . please, Tim. I need to return to NCIS.
I miss you,
Ziva
She pressed send and closed her laptop, wiping her face off with the back of her hand. It would not do to cry over a situation she could not change. At least, she could not change it now.
If it was the last thing she did, she would not marry a man she did not love.
***
McGee had checked his email several times a day; he'd even bought a small clock and set it to Israel time to keep beside his computer. A few days had passed since his last email to Ziva and he hadn't received a reply yet. He tried to remind himself that she was working in a dangerous zone now. He didn't know exactly what she was doing. Maybe she couldn't get to a computer as often as he could.
He woke on Friday and started to prepare for work, looking at his computer each time he passed it. He'd only checked his e-mail six hours ago. She could have left him something while he'd been sleeping. He rushed a little more so that he could check his email.
He looked at his watch. He should be walking out his door but- he looked to his computer- Ziva. He pulled his chair under his body and logged into his account, ignoring the other e-mails waiting for him and searching for Ziva's name.
He clicked on her name once he found it and read, slowly, making sure to take in every word.
He laughed slightly as she asked to call him Tim. He could almost hear her voice calling him Tim. It was like a narrative, hearing her voice in his head as he read the words she'd written. The smile that had found its way onto his face faded as he continued to read her e-mail. He could almost feel her frustration and . . . disgust? Was she actually disgusted with her father because of the reason he wanted grandchildren?
He could feel himself feeling depressed for her. No, he did feel depressed. He had finally realized that he missed her most of all. Then, a glimmer of hope. She had said she missed him. Only him; she hadn't said anything about the others this time.
To: mossad_babe
From: sexi_tech_master
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE:Hello Again
Ziva,
I know I have said this before, and I know that it doesn't really help the situation, but I'm sorry. I won't go as far as to say anything about how every parent hopes to have grandchildren one day. After the stories that you've told me, so far, of your father- I can't imagine he'd be the type to spoil them with candy and toys.
Your life isn't falling apart. You control your life, not your father. In the end, he can't push you down the aisle. You are a smart, beautiful, successful and sometimes violent woman, but any guy would be beyond lucky to call you his wife.
Look at me; I'm older and just as single. Would I like to have someone to go home to? Honestly, yes, but I'm not going to be pressured into marrying someone just because I'm not exactly fitting into what the world has decided is the natural order.
I wish that we knew when Gibbs would get us all reinstated. Then I could at least have two things to look forward to. You would have a shoulder to cry on; a willing shoulder anytime you need it. While it would be hard to listen to you crying, I would do my best to soothe away your tears. Anytime you need to talk, not over the computer, you have my phone number. Call me anytime. Day or night. Really, I don't care if it's 3 A.M., Ziva, if you need to talk, call me.
Love,
Tim
He stopped typing and smiled. It was the first time he'd ever signed an e-mail to her using his first name. He hoped that she would read it as permission to call him by it.
He sent the e-mail and picked up his keys and jacket. By the time he got to the Navy Yard, he'd decided that his first stop wouldn't be to his desk in the basement. No, he was on his way to the Director's office.
