Vulnerable

chapter 10

A/N; Thank you all so much for all the well wishes, thoughts, prayers, voodoo dolls, chicken sacrifices, fuzzy bunny energy, etc. for my mom's health. The support is appreciated more than you know, or maybe you do. I'll keep you updated.

Mom has been moved to a very cheerful and lovely nursing/rehab facility where her every whim is indulged.

"Seriously, McGee, you haven't visited Ziva yet?" Tony said, disbelief coloring his words."Why?"

Tim shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't do so great in hospitals. They're creepy and germy and depressing."

"All the more reason to go and see Ziva and cheer her up," Tony pointed out. "Listen, McGermaphobe, she'd be happy to see you. Just go."

McGee was hesitant. "I don't know..."

"I'll go with you," Tony coaxed. Suddenly, he thought of something. "You'll get to meet Benjamin."

"Benjamin? Who's Benjamin?" McGee asked, intrigued. He didn't think Ziva mentioned seeing anyone.

"You'll just have to ask her, yourself Probie Wan Kenobi."

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Tony shoved McGee in the middle of his back. "Go on, Chicken McNugget, she's just sick. It's not like she's mutating or anything."

"Tony, I don't know. What if she doesn't want me here?"

"She'll be happy to see you," Tony coaxed, opening the door to Ziva's room. "Go on in and I'll get us some sodas from the cafeteria. I'll be right back up."

Hesitation in every step, McGee crept into Ziva's room, allowing the door to close behind him. The room was in semi-darkness and snores he remembered from watching her and Tony's undercover OP came from the bed. He felt a measure of relief. She was sleeping. He approached her bedside and gazed down at her. Again, he is struck by how young she looks. Wait...was that a stuffed lamb tucked into her arms?

Ziva rolled over and opened her eyes, unconciously hugging the stuffed animal. "McGee."

"Uhm, hi, Ziva," he stammers, "I didn't wake you, did I?"

She yawned and blinked a few times. "No. What time is it?" Ziva reached over and turned the overhead lighting on until she could see better. She saw great in the dark, but she wasn't exactly a cat.

McGee checked his watch. "It's, uhm, 3:40; why?"

Ziva sighed, smiling. "Good. I did not miss it."

"It?"

She gestured to the electric candelabra with the center candle and one other candle lit. "I need to light my Menorah at sundown and say the Hannukah prayers."

McGee shifted his feet. "Then, maybe I should go and let you observe your faith in peace." He turned to go, but her soft hand was suddenly on his wrist.

"You need not leave, McGee. I do not mind sharing my faith...unless yours has a caveat against it."

"N-n-no. Mine doesn't. I'm Catholic. After Vatican II, we're pretty open," Tim said, observing the look of confusion washing over Ziva's face. "Vatican II was a conference that happened in Rome before we were both born. There's a lot of stuff, but it just told Catholics that it was okay to have friends of different religions. In essence, acceptance and embracing their faiths and taking time to understand each other. A Catholic couldn't marry a Protestant or a Methodist or a Jew. Now we can. That's how mom raised me."

Ziva smiled at him. "My best friend was an Arab boy, a Muslim. We used to climb the fig trees as children and drop the ripe fruit to each other. And then we would eat them until nearly bursting with stomach aches, laughing and storytelling the whole time. He told me Muslim stories and I told him Hebrew ones. We were 12 when he was killed. It was the one day that we could not meet in the fig and date groves. Aashiq was killed by one of ours. I am still ashamed. But, I will do my best to embrace your Christmas."

McGee smiled at her. "Then I can enjoy Hannukah with you, i-i-if you want me to."

Ziva smiled even brighter and then coughed violently. When she regained her breath, she said, "I would like that. Can you hand me my Menorah?"

"Sure."

He handed it to her and she rasped out a sung prayer, through fits of coughing, and twisted the next candle/bulb to light. She coughed violently again before saying, "Thank you, Tim. If you could bring out a couple of latkes out of the cooler for us and use the electric burner to warm th...the...them then we can have a treat."

"Uhm, Ziva, c-can I ask you something?"

"Alright."

He was sure she would kill him, but he just had to know. "Why do you have a little stuffed lamb?"

Ziva smiled softly. "My grandfather gave him to me. It was the last thing he gave me before he died. I named him Benjamin after my grandfather."

Tim was struck by the touching sentimentality of it all. Ziva must have loved her grandfather so much. "That's really sweet. He must have meant a lot to you."

Ziva's eyes filled with wistful tears and she hugged the little lamb that much tighter. "The world."

Just then, Tony burst in full of good holiday cheer. "I got those sodas and some...what's going on?"

"Ziva just shared a part of her heritage with me and I'm warming the latkes for dinner. I can throw more on." McGee said, full of confidence. He knew there was more to this fiesty young Mossad Liaison Officer than he first thought. She had a stuffed lamb named for her grandfather that she obviously found comfort in. There was so much more to know about his young, new friend.

Tony was annoyed that the kid was moving in. "Yeah, Probie, throw some more on. Those are really good."

"Tony, did you bring a soft drink for me?" Ziva asked, scooting up in bed and ducking Benjamin under her covers, despite the fact that Tony was the one that brought him to her.

"Of course, Miss David," Tony said, placing a can of cola on her tray and then popping a straw in it.

"Thank you." Ziva said, pulling the can to her and taking a very long sip. "That feels so good. Watch the latkes, McGee. Just warm them. Do not cook them."

"Gotcha, Ziva."

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Ziva blinked at the bright light in the room. "What is going on and why is it so bright in here?"

"You're being released today!" Director Jennifer Shepherd chirruped.

"And you tell me this by blinding me? Shut those things!" Ziva grumped back. "Wait. Released?"

Jenny shut the curtains by half. "Yes, released, but you can't go home just yet. You still need help and someone to keep an eye on your lungs for a good week. You're coming home with me. Before you protest, consider it payment in part for Cairo. Noeimi can get you what you need while I'm at work." She could see Ziva was gearing up for a really good argument. "No. You come home with me and live in my house until your doctor says she clears you. I've been in your apartment and have given your landlord an earful. It's far too cold in there, for even those of us that have been raised here. I told him to raise the heat or he'd be dealing with a Federal investigation. He actually was breaking laws. You should have said something. Maybe you wouldn't have gotten so ill. You're moving out of there. I already found you a nice place in Silver Springs near McGee. I'm having your things moved and yes, you still have a balcony facing east. There is even plenty of room for your piano and a bigger kitchen. The rent is a little higher, but I think you'll like it better."

Ziva was awestruck. "Jenny, you did all of that just for me? I do not know what to say. I truly have no words except for thank you."

Jenny smiled at her young friend and capable Liaison Officer. "You're welcome. Will you let me help you decorate the new place?"

Ziva smiled the first genuinely happy smile sice she became ill. "Absolutely!"