A/N: Sorry for the long time between updates. I've been busy studying for my finals. Today is my first half day so I decided to update. Hopefully I'll get a few chapters done before tomorrow since my only finals are Chorus and Orchestra which are really easy…

Ziva tearfully looked at her father. "What do you mean?" she asked, terrified of his answer.
Eli David sighed, trying to control his emotions. "Ziva, your mother is gone. Forever. She was killed." His voice was hard and he was irritated that she wouldn't understand.
Ziva bit her lip, trying not to cry. Her abba hated it when she cried. He said that it made you weak if you cried. But, how was she not supposed to cry? Her world had been torn apart because her mother went to the grocery store. She felt her heart pound in her chest as Eli busied himself with Tali.
She felt faint as her father comforted the crying child. Tali would not understand why her mother was gone. Ari put his hand on her shoulder, quietly comforting her. He led her out of the room and held her close as she cried. "Hush, Ziva," he told her soothingly. "It'll all be okay."
All she could do was cry.

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Ziva walked into the bullpen and looked for McGee or Tony. Spotting neither one, she quickly turned on Tony's monitor. On it were the crime scene photos. A woman with long, dark hair was dead in her living room, stabbed to death and then shot twice. Her uniform hung on the door. The clear plastic covering it was splattered with blood.
She knew her father hadn't done this. He would never have left the scene so messy. No. It had to be someone else. But who? She knew that NCIS would only look for evidence against her father. Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed something familiar around the woman's neck: a star of David.
However, it wasn't only a star of David. It was identical to the one she wore. Identical to Tali's and her mother's. She forced her breathing back to normal as she turned off the monitor again. She slipped back to her desk, noticing the director watching her. She looked away quickly, pretending not to notice.

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Director Jenny Shepard watched Ziva go through the pictures on Tony's computer. After all, she had expected no less from the Mossad officer. Some days, she hated her job. Today was one of them. A director of another agency-one that they were trying to build a relationship with no less-was being accused of murder by her people. And, not only was he a director, but he was the father of one of her closest personal friends. Ziva had saved her too many times to count.
The elevator dinged quietly and Jethro stepped out of it. "What did he say?" Jenny asked, not bothering to turn around.
"He said they were just close friends. Said he knew her father. Came by for tea and found her dead."
"Let me guess," she turned to look at him, "you think they were more then just friends."
"Yep. A pretty, younger girl with an older guy. Probably a motive of jealousy."
The pair looked down from the cat-walk to look at Ziva, who pretended to be doing work. "Well," Jenny broke the silence after a moment, "I hope for her sake you're wrong. But I doubt it. Your gut is almost never wrong." They watched as Ziva grew restless and left, taking the elevator.

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Ziva was at the gym, beating a punching bag with her fists, trying to keep her mind off what she had seen. Her mother had been 34 when she had died. The dead marine was 34. The two women had the same dark hair, but Ziva's mother had always kept hers long. The marine's hair wasn't nearly as long. She continued to assualt the bag with punches as she thought.
The necklace on the woman's neck hadn't been a coincidence. It was identical to her own. The bag took the brunt of her anger as she thought about her. She was much younger than her father, but then again, her mother had been several years younger then him. The punches continued to collide with the bag, filling the empty gym with sound.
She heard the elevator ding and ignored it, refusing to acknowledge another person's presence. The footsteps approached her, adding to the percussion of her fists. Yes. Someone was definitely here and they were walking towards her. When they got closer, Ziva turned, ready to tell whoever it was to go away.
To her total shock, it was Tony. She knew something was wrong when he didn't smile. He always looked at her suggestively when she worked out with him. The mischevious glint wasn't in his eye and his cheeky grin was absent. He stopped a respectable distance away and didn't even mock Ziva for her insane curls.
"Ziva," he began, voice totally serious. "I have to tell you, it looks bad for your father."
This was what she had been dreading. "How bad?" she finally had the courage to ask.
"Bad," was all he said.
The two stood in silence for a moment as Ziva let the news sink in. Her father, the last of her family, would probably go away for life. That wasn't supposed to happen. When she was little, she had always imagined living with her true love in Tel Aviv. Her sister and brother would be nearby and her father would always be there to help her. And her mother, too. But she had been taken away when Ziva was so young...
"He didn't do this, Tony," she told him softly, trying to convince herself as much as him.
"I know. We'll just have to prove it." He said it with such confidence that Ziva frowned slightly in confusion. "You and I, well, mainly me since you technically aren't allowed to handle evidence, will persue other leads." She couldn't help it, she grinned widely at his complete faith in her father. "Come on, Zee-vah. Get dressed in some proper clothes so we can go do legwork."
"Thank you, Tony," she told him sincerely. He merely urged her on, ignoring her thanks. After all, just seeing her smile was reward enough. He hated when she wouldn't smile.

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Eli David remained in the interview room. He sat perfectly still, trying to relax. He needed to see Ziva. He had to tell her that he didn't do it. But Gibbs wouldn't let him talk to her. And now he hated Gibbs even more.
Gibbs had killed his son. Then he had taken Ziva. He liked having Ziva at NCIS, but he didn't like how Gibbs treated her like she was his not just on loan to him. No. Ziva was definitely his. Gibbs was trying to torture him by making him sweat. But, Eli David did not sweat. He sat there and took it like a man.
Eli took a deep breath and tried to think of anyone who would want to hurt the Lieutenant. So far, he was drawing a blank. How was he supposed to seek vengence locked up in a tiny room?

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The day of the funeral, Eli David got dressed in his best black suit. He wore her favorite tie, a silver tie made of silk, and a crisp white shirt. His shoes were shiny and as black as they could be. He dressed Tali before himself, putting her in a black dress with black tights and black Mary-Janes. Ari wore a similar outfit to himself but wore a black tie instead.
His Ziva did not want to wear black. She refused, telling him that her mom hated when people were sad. And black was a sad colour. So, she wore her pale blue skirt with a white shirt. Her mother had loved that outfit. The two of them had gone shopping together earlier that month and chose the ensemble. She wore her hair down, trying to be brave.
The four of them attended the funeral, none of them crying. They sat stoically as the rabbi said prayers for the dead and she was buried in Tel Aviv. Her headstone was engraved with a single rose. Her favorite flower.
They returned home and Eli wasted no time enrolling Ziva in Ari's boarding school. He called Nettie, their aunt, to take care of Tali until she was old enough to go to school.
When he told Ziva about the new arrangements, she refused to speak with him for a week. But there was nothing he could do. There was no way he could take care of his two little girls on his own and remain in Mossad. Mossad was his life. Family came second.

A/N: So, the more reviews I get, the faster I'll update.