Her tormenters took to tormenting her or just stalking around her near daily again. She figured someone must have come sniffing. They hadn't gotten close enough for her to hear or see, but she spent more and more time in her head as the week dragged on.
Once in awhile, she counted her blessings. Her captor found rape distasteful, and he had near complete control over his men. She actually wasn't sure if it was rape as a whole or just carnal contact with her. She was a Jew and, as her captor had pointed out a few times, practically an American.
Two strikes and you are out, I guess. Ziva thought to herself almost giddily as the man watching her that day turned and closed the door.
"It's three strikes, Ziva." Tony sighed, "One, two, three strikes you're out. Come on. Didn't we take you to a baseball game at least once?"
"We were all called out to a crime scene before the first part was over." Ziva answered in her mind-world before smiling faintly. "You did not stop whining about it for at least two weeks."
"Inning." Tony muttered. "It's called an inning."
Ziva had long ago stopped wondering where Tony's corrections came from, since he wasn't here to give them. Mildly ignoring him, she turned her head to see what her guard was doing – there was an odd noise in her left ear, like he was rubbing his hands together over and over – but before she could see what was going on, Tony moved to block her vision, face near hers. "Tony." She said tartly. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to do what you never let me do before."
"I'm not far gone enough to think you will be taking me out on a date." Ziva drawled.
Tony laughed, and Ziva heard a grunt underneath the sound that must have been the guard stretching. "Tony. What's going on?" She just barely tilted her head to see around him, but Tony moved with her.
"Don't look, Ziva." He said softly. "You really don't need to."
"They're going to shoot me up again? I can take it Tony – eventually I will be more burden than benefit and they will kill me. It simply does not matter."
Tony reached out, face sad, and caressed her face, his finger pressing a little hard on her skin, but she didn't care too much. Maybe it was just her sore muscles. "It matters to me, Ziva." He said. "Please let me protect you for once."
Ziva blinked at him for a moment, hearing a distant grunt again in the silence between them, a faint musty smell in her swollen nose. Finally, she murmured. "All right, Tony. Have it your way."
He leaned in, touching her cheek, much softer and warmer now, and smiled. "Thank you, Ziva."
"Why are you crying?" Ziva asked softly.
"One of us should." He replied, cradling her head so that she leaned forward. Her lips brushed against his cheek, and she could suddenly clearly taste his tears – salty, heady, and viscous against her cracked and worn lips. She swallowed automatically, staggering in awe. Did she really taste Tony's tears in her hallucination, or did she taste something else – like when she'd smelled Abby's lab on her captor? Tony's breath was hard and hitching as if he was still crying, but it didn't sound quite like Tony…
"Stop thinking, Ziva." Tony murmured in her ear, fingers gently gripping her hair. "Just be here with me. You know no matter what you're safe with me… don't think."
Ziva immediately stilled, and then relaxed. "All right, Tony." She whispered again. "Have it your way."
Are you a fool? Saleem will annihilate you if he discovers what you've done with her!
There is no evidence. She was thirsty.
What of her?
She didn't even know I was there.