Tony just stared after her as she rounded the corner into his living-room. He was not armed and there was no weapon in his kitchen that he could use to protect himself. Well, there were the knifes but he didn't really trust himself with them. He'd have to rely on Ziva, his good old Mossad-ninja. But was she up for defending herself if it came down to it? She looked so defeated, dark rings around her eyes, never once smiling and he suspected that the curves he had always admired weren't as round anymore as they used to be. He slowly approached the door to the living-room and listened carefully. He couldn't hear a thing, which was good, considering that there was probably no one else in his apartment but it also meant that Ziva wasn't there. He quietly rounded the corner and was relieved to find Ziva squatting between his coffee table and the sofa, his cell in here hand. She looked up at him with a stealthy expression.
"It was your phone, I think it vibrated and fell off the coffee table on the floor." She said and stared at the phone.
They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. Then Ziva slowly placed the phone on the table again and seemed to compose herself. She held onto the edge of the sofa and slowly pushed herself up on her legs. When trying to stand upright again the word "Leazazel!" escaped her lips. It sounded a lot like a curse. She brought one hand to her side and let it remain there as she looked at Tony again. Her face still didn't hold an expression but to him it was obvious that she was in pain. Tony didn't like seeing his old partner like that. He knew that if he'd let her, she'd keep playing the invincible ninja and leave without another comment about here fairly obvious injuries but he was not about to let that happen.
"Another injury from improving your close combat skills?" He asked sarcastically.
Her face remained blank but behind those hazel eyes he knew that her wheels were spinning.
"Come on, Ziva. Do you really think that you can hide that from me? What good would you be to Mossad if your fingers were constantly broken because of your training?" He asked, his voice soft and calming.
Ziva mentally cursed herself. When had she become so weak? She shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have moved to D.C. at all.
What now? She couldn't possibly lie to him again. She could just leave and let him wonder. Tony would forget, maybe even think that it had all been a dream. But that would very likely mean that she' never see her knife again, her mother's old jack-knife. The only weapon she had ever possessed. No, she couldn't do that. That meant that she would have to tell Tony something about where she'd been over the past months. But how was she supposed to do that? She hadn't ever talked about it to anyone and now Tony? Deep inside she knew that she'd have to talk about it someday. But not tonight, she decided. She could just tell him that she wasn't ready to talk about it. That should do it, right?
Happy Mothers Day to everyone!
I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm just gonna blame school.
„Leazazel" means something like 'hell' for those who don't speak Hebrew…