Rifiuto: Non Mirena

"Tim?"

He looked up at the soft knock, as Ziva slipped into his room that evening. Dinner had been quiet, neither he nor Sarah saying much, and after a couple games of Chess, he'd excused himself, Sarah following, claiming exhaustion. The two of course has spent an hour in Sarah's room, talking softly and in heated Irish before Sarah had finally gone to bed after prayers and a few chapters of Leon Uris's Trinity, which the siblings had been reading over and over for the last several years, as a way to feel as though they were back in Ireland instead of in Israel.

Worried, he quickly removed his reading glasses and set them aside before marking his place in his novel. "Zivaleh, wha's wrong?"

"It is silly."

"No, it's no'."

She bit her lip before taking a seat on his bed. "You never... gave me my birthday present."

He studied her for a moment, brow furrowing, before realizing what she meant. "Oh!" A moment passed before snapped his eyes shut and shook his head. "I'ma sorry, I comple'ly forgo'." And without another word, he reached into his nightstand drawer, pulling out a small box. He then held it out to her, lifting the lid.

"Oh, Tim."

"D' ye like it?"

Slowly, she lifted the gold chain out of the box, watching as the golden Star of David swung gently back and forth before her. "It is beautiful, but... this must have cost a fortune." He shook his head.

"No' really. I saw it... in an antique shop when Sarah an' I were ou' one aft'rnoon, an'..." He shrugged. "The guy said tha' it had never been worn. I figured... maybe it wou'd get worn now. So?" He watched her turn the pendant over in her hand, gently brushing her fingers against the gold. "D' ye like it, Zivaleh?"

She looked up at the name, suddenly realizing how different it felt when he used the endearment term than when her parents used it. The way his mouth, his tongue seemed to caress every consonant, every vowel, every letter-

Without a word, she threw herself at him; he let out a grunt of surprise as she landed against him, and she giggled. "I love it, Tim. Toda."

"Go ndéana sé maith duit."

She raised an eyebrow. "You have been here seven years, Tim. You know Hebrew by now."

He rolled his eyes, but spoke to appease her. "Al lo davar."

She giggled, brushing her nose against his before pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. They slowly broke apart, searching gazes, before he slowly closed the gap between them once more. This kiss was just as chaste, parted just as quickly, before returning. The next kiss was a little longer, a little slower, softer, an exploration of something new.

When they finally parted, Ziva held the necklace out. "Put it on me, Tim?" She then turned, lifting her hair up and allowing him to slip it around her neck before clasping it.

"Done." She looked over her shoulder at him, grinning.

"Toda." Their lips met once more; this kiss was deeper, hungrier, curiouser. Ziva reached up, caressing his cheek before her hand fell; he caught her hand in his, slowly lacing their fingers together. In the last couple years, the few girlfriends Tim had had hadn't been able to pass Ziva's 'inspection'- if he didn't know any better, he'd guess she was jealous, determined to have him all to herself. The fact that he and his sister lived with her and her family- that they looked to her parents as surrogate parents- didn't bother her at all. And if he only knew that both Eli and Rivka were hoping to look at him as a son-in-law rather than a surrogate son-

He pulled away, shaking his head. "No, Ziva, we... we canna-"

"It is just a kiss, Tim-"

"Bu' yer parents-"

"It is not like they are listening at the door, Tim. They do not care. They know that we like-"

"Bu' Ziva-"

"We are not doing anything illegal. We are not sleeping together; Tim, it is a kiss. I have waited for this kiss for nearly seven years. I thought you had, too."

He sighed, resting his forehead to hers. "I know, I jus'... they 'ave taken Sarah an' I in... if they fin' ou'-"

"Tim, it is a kiss. A kiss. Nothing more." She caught his lips again, shifting until she was settled beside him, her legs in his lap. He rested one hand against her hip, the other sliding down her legs towards her feet. She playfully pulled her foot away, giggling into the kiss. Eventually, she pulled away, meeting his gaze. "I love it, my present. Thank you." She kissed him deeply once more before getting up and slipping out of the room.

He sighed, closing his eyes as the realization of what he'd just done hit.

He'd kissed Ziva- kissed her. The oldest daughter of his surrogate parents, the girl with the pigtails he'd grown up with. The girl who'd broken Schmeil Rubinstein's nose in four places and didn't understand terms like 'homesick'; the girl who studied Irish saints and had tried crossing herself once only to end up horribly turned around. The girl who'd near destroyed the house in Be'er Sheva when she found out he and Sarah might be returning to Ireland. The daughter of the new Assistant Director of Mossad.

He swallowed. He'd just kissed the Mossad director's daughter. Granted, she'd started it and kissed him back, but still. He hadn't tried very hard to stop her. And Ziva was stubborn; bound to get what she wanted, no matter how long it took. This had only been a matter of time.

The teenager quickly slipped out of bed and from his room, making his way to the living room. Rivka was resewing a button back onto her favorite blouse, and Eli was reading; the news was on low, but neither noticed. It was Rivka that noticed him first. "What are you doing up, ahava?"

Tim glanced at her before making his way to Eli. The older man glanced at him, before removing his reading glasses. "Timothy, is everything all right?"

He swallowed thickly. "I need t' talk t' you 'bout somethin', Abba."

Eli glanced at his wife, not bothering to keep the curiosity out of his eyes.