Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Thanks to amiebeca for reviewing 1 and 2, Guest for reviewing 3 and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 1, 2 and 3, and to Stop for the lovely review on chapter 3. But, if you don't like it, then don't read it. I'm just playing around with writing on my sister-in-law's account, there's no need to get so nasty- saying it's bullshit and telling me to stop because it's something you don't like. Granted, I'm new to this whole fan fiction writing thing, but even I know that this is just fiction. It's fake. It's never going to happen on the show. That's why it's called fan fiction. It's what the fans imagine might happen or could happen on the show or in the book or whatever.

Besides, isn't that what people who write fan fiction do? Make up stories for fictional characters that are outside of what was written for them in the movie/tv show/novel? If you don't like McGiva, then go read Tiva; there are plenty on the site.

"Something smells good."

Tim chuckled at the older man's declaration as he pushed the door to the apartment open, agreeing, allowing Schmeil and Bedisa to enter first before following. Once the door closed behind them, Tim took their coats, hanging them in the closet by the door. Small feet rushed towards him, but soon skidded to a stop. "Abba?"

Her father looked up to see Shirah watching him, her grey-green eyes wide as she looked at the older couple. But just as Tim opened his mouth to respond, Shirah when running into the kitchen, screaming for her mother. "Ima!" The child stammered something in unintelligible Hebrew, and Ziva scooped her up, settling the child on her hip as she returned to the living room. She instantly relaxed though, realizing that her oldest child was getting all worked up over nothing.

"Schmeil, Bedisa! It is wonderful to see you again!" She pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks, adjusting her hold on Shirah. Yoni and Nara were in the study, watching around the bookcase.

"Ah, Ziva, you have turned into quite the woman, since we last saw you." Ziva blushed at Bedisa's comment.

"And, who is this young yofi?" Schmeil asked; Shirah buried her face in Ziva's shoulder.

"This... is our oldest daughter, Shirah." Tim slipped past the couple, going to the study. He came back with Nara on his hip and Yoni holding tight to his hand. The older couple shared a glance.

"Three?"

Tim nodded at Bedisa, feeling Yoni grab onto his leg and hide. "Nahara and Yonah." When he turned back to the couple, he couldn't place the peculiar gleam in the old woman's eyes.

Two hours later, after dinner had been eaten and the dishes cleared away, they settled in the living room, coffee in hand. Ziva curled into Tim's side, and Schmeil watched the two children he'd watched growing up from the armchair by the fireplace. Bedisa took a seat next to the couple, studying them. "How old are your girls?" The couple looked at Schmeil; he was waiting patiently, hands folded.

"Two, four and six." Tim replied, glancing towards the study area, where all three children in question sat watching the strangers from behind the bookcase. A moment passed, before he whistled softly, nodding for the girls to join them. After a moment, the children did as told, rushing to the sofa and climbing up. They scooted as close as they could to their parents; Shirah climbed onto her father's lap, burying her face in his chest and he chuckled. "It's okay, girls. There's no need to be scared; they're old friends of both your Sabas."

"Bedisa and I have known your parents from the time they were your ages. We watched them grow up, watched them fall in love."

Eventually, Tim and Bedisa fell into quiet conversation, and Ziva got up, going back into the kitchen with the cups to get more coffee for everyone. "I am sorry to hear about John, Ziva." She glanced over her shoulder; Schmeil had followed her, offering his help. "He was a good man, a good friend to Israel and Mossad and... a good friend to me."

"Toda, Schmeil." She reached out, squeezing his hand.

"How is Timothy dealing with his father's death? The loss of a loved one is difficult, made even more so when the one leaving is a parent."

She sighed, pouring a cup and holding it out to him. "Tim is... coping. He and Sarah will heal, but it will take time. And I do not begrudge him for his grief. I have suffered enough grief myself, so I know what he is going through, I just..." She stopped pouring, and set the pot down. "I wish I could do something the help ease their pain."

"The first year after a close family member passes is the hardest. Nothing will change that, Ziva, and nothing will speed up the healing process. You need to let them grieve and work through this." She nodded, silent, as Schmeil glanced back into the living room. Yoni and Nara were sitting on the floor playing with a couple toys, and Shirah hadn't moved from Tim's lap. "Those girls of yours are very beautiful, Ziva. Do all three of them possess as gentle souls as your husband?"

Ziva stopped, thinking. "They do, though Yonah and Nahara possess more of Tim's soul than Shirah."

"She possesses more of your soul than your husband's."

She blushed. "Yes. Shirah seems to... to be more like me than her father. Abba would say that... that she possesses too much fire and not enough water within her soul. That there is not enough air within her to help her find her balance."

Schmeil reached up, gently patting her cheek. "She will find her balance, Zivaleh. She just needs to find the right person to help her control it. Like you have."