Chapter 3
"Ladies and gentlemen. We will be arriving in Las Vegas in ten minutes. We hope you have enjoyed your flight."
Ziva looked out the window as the plane began its descent and thought, "That was the one and only time a one night stand lasted an entire week. I just could not get enough of that woman. I am still amazed that we never left my room once all weekend or during the week; she would come to me at night, and leave me to sleep during the day, too exhausted to do anything else. Never has anyone worn me out like that." /She smiled with a sigh. i"God, I could have stayed there forever. I wonder if she will even remember those days?"/i
As the plane taxied toward the arrival gate, Ziva frowned. "My fault. We talked often in the beginning, but I let myself grow distant. She was affecting me in a way I just could not allow, so I let it slip away. Again."
Debarking from the plane, Ziva glanced around, looking for the taxi area. She had made reservations at theBellagio Hotel, but did not want to rent a car. From behind her, spoken close to her ear, came a sultry voice.
"Hey, gorgeous. Looking for a ride?"
Ziva whipped around, ready to assault the fool who dared to get that close to her, and stared into bright blue eyes, crinkled in amusement.
"Easy there, girlie," laughed Catherine. "Little jumpy?"
"Catherine!" Ziva exclaimed, pulling the woman in for a quick, tight hug. "I did not expect you to be here? How did you know what flight I was on?"
Laughing, Catherine responded, "Well, what kind of investigator would I be if I couldn't have found that information? And how could I let you arrive without a welcome party?"
Catherine reached out and gently stroked Ziva's cheek, a look of concern on her face. "Jeez, girl. You look awful!"
"Why thank you." Ziva replied. "And I see you are still as stunning as ever. Don't you ever age? I believe now you look younger than me."
"Still the flatterer, I see," Catherine replied, linking her arm through Ziva's. "Come on, cutie. My car is in the lot. Let's go get you settled, then you and I are going for a drink. Did you check your bags or is that all you have?"
Glancing down at her carry-on, Ziva answered, "No, this is all I have, I do not require much. I am staying at the Bellagio; perhaps we can have dinner there tonight, yes?"
"No you're not."
Ziva gave Catherine a confused look, "I am sure that is the name. Did I pronounce it incorrectly? I made the reservation yesterday."
"No, you said it correctly, but you're not staying there," Catherine countered.
"I'm not?" Digging in her bag for the confirmation email, Ziva grumbled, "But it was confirmed..."
Catherine reached out and took Ziva's hand in her own. "You're staying at my house, not some hotel. Don't even bother, David. This is not up for negotiation. You are staying with me. End of discussion."
Ziva frowned. "No, that is not necessary. I have somewhere to stay and I will not inconvenience you in such a manner. And what of Lindsey? And...your partner?"
Catherine smiled, "Ziva, it is not an inconvenience and you don't have anywhere to stay, actually. I cancelled your reservation this morning. Lindsey is away for the week and well...there is no one else there to care."
"You cancelled my..." Ziva stuttered.
"Now, don't go getting all 'Ziva-ish' on me. I know it was a little forward of me, but you're here because you need a friend. I will not let you stay alone in some hotel, when you need someone close. This way you can be comfortable and we can talk well into the night if you need to. Just let me do this for you, ok, sweetie?"
Ziva was dumbfounded by the generosity of her friend. It had never occurred to her to ask if she could stay with the redhead. It would seem too needy, and Ziva did not like looking needy.
"Look, it's fine, Ziva. Really," Catherine said softly. When Ziva sighed, Catherine knew she had won. "Good, now let's get out of here. I don't know about you but I could definitely use a drink."
On the way to Catherine's house, Ziva took the opportunity to really look at her old friend. She hadn't just been using flattery; the redhead did not look a day older then when Ziva had last seen her. Her hair was a little lighter, not as red, more a strawberry blonde now. There were a few wrinkles, mostly around the eyes and mouth. Ziva was not sure if they were because Catherine laughed often or worried often. But overall, this woman was still stunning. Still beautiful.
Catherine turned slightly, and saw Ziva staring at her. She smiled at the brunette and gave her a wink. Ziva was not very surprised to find her stomach did a flutter at that wink.
"She is still very desirable." Ziva thought. "She is just as sexy as she was that first night I saw her."
Catherine did her own assessment of the young Israeli woman sitting beside her. She had not changed much over the years. Enough of the "old" Ziva remained for her to recognize her when she saw her exit the plane, but there were also some remarkable changes. She was still slim and fit, still quite beautiful. But she had dark circles under her eyes that looked like they had been there for weeks. Her usually lovely tan skin color was now sallow. But the biggest change was her eyes. Eyes that had once danced with some internal fire now seemed dull. Dead even. Where was that bright, passionate woman she had met years ago? Even with what horrors she had seen during her early years in Mossad, there was still a sign of tenderness, of compassion in her face. Now she seemed hard, as if the horrors she had since seen had stolen her youth, her joy, her soul.
"What happened to you, Ziva?" /i Catherine wondered. i"What did they do to you?"
"Make yourself at home, Ziva," Catherine said as she took Ziva's bag upstairs. "I'll put this in my room, and then we can talk. Okay?"
Ziva nodded and dropped onto the couch. As Catherine came back down the stairs, she paused to watch Ziva. The younger woman sat staring at the floor, a haunted expression on her face. As Catherine walked past, heading into the kitchen, the younger woman did not so much as glance up.
Catherine sat down next to Ziva, handing her a glass of wine. "Here, you look like you could use this."
Ziva took the glass, giving her a small smile in return.
"So, " Catherine began, slightly uncomfortable with the brunette's silence. "Are you going to tell me what's going on? What happened to you that you needed to call me, of all people? We haven't spoken in years, and not seen each other in almost twice that."
"You said I could call you anytime..." Ziva shrugged. "Why are you doing this? Telling me to come out here. Letting me stay in your home? I have not been a good friend to you, Catherine. Why would you be one to me?"
Catherine looked at her for a moment., "When you called me yesterday, you said you needed help. The Ziva I remember never needed help from anyone. Well, at least would never admit she did. So when you said those words, I knew this had to be real bad."
"Where is your partner, Catherine?" Ziva asked suddenly.
"My partner? Who said I had a partner?" Catherine asked, puzzled.
"You did. The last time we talked," Ziva replied. "You told me that you had finally acquired the young woman you were so smitten over. I apologize, but I do not remember her name. You said you were both very happy, as I recall."
"Sara," Catherine whispered. "Her name was Sara. That was a long time ago. So much has changed. Why did you stop calling, Ziva? You stopped answering my calls, my e-mails. What happened? It wasn't because of Sara, was it?"
Ignoring Catherine's questions, Ziva refused to change the subject. "But you were so in love, no? What happened? I always assumed the two of you were happily playing house here in the desert."
"I...I lost her." Catherine said softly. "We loved each other , but it wasn't enough to kill her demons. She was having a really hard time, with everything. I thought I could protect her, make it all better, or at least bearable. " Catherine gave a bitter laugh, "Know when it all fell apart? When I asked her to marry me. She just couldn't deal with being that open or letting anyone get that close. She said she was confused, conflicted. So she did what she always did. She ran. Ran from me, from us. Ran to him and finally, ran from us all. End of story. Not much else to say, it was a long time ago. And you didn't come this far to hear about my love life."
Taking Ziva's face in her hands, she turned her head so she could look into her eyes. "Why did you stop calling, Ziva? Why did you refuse to talk to me? I'm not going any farther until I know."
Sighing, Ziva looked at the red head, "It would seem that your Sara and I had much in common. I felt I was getting too, shall we say, iattached /ito you. I do not do attachments well, as you know. And I did not want to complicate your life, or cause any undo tension with Sara. So, better to just disappear from your life."
"So you stopped being my friend because you liked me too much." Catherine just shook her head.
"I never stopped being your friend," Ziva retorted. "I just stopped being a part of your life. And I never forgot."
Catherine reached out and took Ziva's hand in hers. She squeezed it and smiled. "Well, it's the past. You're here now, so let me be your friend. Tell me what's going on with you. Does it have to do with the bruises on your face, or the cut on your forehead? "
Ziva reached up and tentatively touched her own face. "I thought the bruises had faded enough?"
"I'm forensics, remember? They are fading but I can still see the slight yellowing of your skin."
"A sting went bad, nothing more," Ziva declared. "The suspect got in a few good hits."
"Hmmm, seems like it was more than a few." Catherine leaned forward and looked closer at Ziva's face. "And that cut looks suspiciously like a bullet graze. So, want to tell me the ireal/i story?"
Sighing, Ziva dropped her head and softly said, "He tried to shoot me in the back of the head. I...I managed to move out of the way."
Catherine winced at Ziva's words, but knew she was not being completely truthful with her. "Sweetie, I can't help you if you hold out on me. If it's too soon to talk, say so. But don't blow smoke up my ass, okay?"
Shaking her head, Ziva looked at Catherine. "I do not mean to be evasive, Catherine. It's just not easy to talk about. But I will try. I had been undercover for a few weeks, trying to locate a man who was killing military wives who were cheating on their deployed husbands. We had narrowed the suspects down to two men. I agreed to go out with one, Hoffman, so Tony could go into his house and plant listening devices. Then it all went wrong..."
As Ziva described what took place after McGee's call with the distress code, her eyes became dim as she was transported back to that day. Catherine listened to the story but also watched Ziva's face. She saw her go away and retreat into herself. Knowing that this was more than a routine incident, she reached out and took Ziva's hands into her own while the young woman told her tale.
"...and just as I got the gun in my hand and rolled onto my back, he ran at me. He had a knife in his hand, about to plunge it into me. He was standing over me and I...I pulled the trigger. I pulled it again and again and again. He fell on top of me, staring into my eyes, but he was dead." Ziva paused, closing her eyes in silent agony. "He just kept staring at me. Accusing me, as if I was the guilty one. Just staring and staring."
Catherine pulled Ziva into her arms, and the young Israeli dissolved into tears. "Shhh, sweetie. It's okay. Go ahead and cry, get it out. No judgments here, hon." Slowly stroking her hand through Ziva's hair, Catherine continued to soothe her.
After what seemed like ages, Ziva was able to compose herself, and pulled away from Catherine's embrace, slightly embarrassed about herbreakdown.
"I am sorry, Catherine. I should not be carrying on like this. I should be more in control. With a bitter laugh, Ziva said, "I bet you never thought you would see me cry like a child, yes? Neither did I."
"We all need to cry every now and then, Ziva. Even you. There's no shame in it," Catherine assured her. "But what I don't understand is why this particular case has you so shaken up? It's not like he was innocent. And I know this wasn't your first kill. All the years you were in Mossad...that would be impossible. Did he remind you of someone?"
Ziva shook her head, frowning. "I can't explain it. I want to, but... I do not think it is actually the shooting that is bothering me, but the closeness to death. I could have died that day, Catherine. I should have died that day."
"And I'm sure that wasn't the first time you ever came that close to death either."
"No, not the first," Ziva confirmed. "But...it would have been my own fault. I was almost too slow. Slow enough to feel the bullet pass by me, burn me. I...I can't talk about this anymore. Maybe later, but no more now. I just can't..."
"Okay sweetie, you don't need to say anymore right now." Catherine said with a comforting squeeze of her hand. "Let's put all of this away for now, and go have a nice meal, some drinks and maybe dancing. Like old times. I think you need to just forget for a few hours, and have some fun. What do ya say?"
Ziva was tempted to beg off, claiming exhaustion, but knew Catherine was right. She came here to relax, so why not try to have a little fun.
With a small smile, Ziva looked at Catherine, "What can it hurt? Let's do it!"
