Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: About Ziva's never having caught chickenpox as a child: everyone in my 4th grade class came down with it, except for me. It does happen. It's just really rare when it does.- Licia

Washington, D.C.,

Georgetown,

Two Months Later

Four in the morning. Why the hell did he have to get up and go for a run at four every morning? Because it had been the one thing that got his mind to stop running when he was growing up in Israel- John would go out for a run at four every morning, and he allowed Tim to go with him, from the time the boy was Shirah's age. It was the one time of the day when John wasn't an Ambassador, he wasn't trying to negotiate peace or mingle with dignitaries from other countries, he was a father. It was the one time of the day Tim got to see his father before he came home from work, before the exhaustion of the job etched itself on his face and the weight of the world was once more placed on his shoulders. It was the few hours before he became the Ambassador, when he was just a father.

That was why he went for a run at four every morning; because it had been Tim's time with his dad, when it was just the two of them, a father and son. And when John died, that time had died with him-

Tim looked up at the shuffling of small feet; he set the coffee pot down, going to his middle daughter. "Hey katan, come here." Yoni wrapped her arms around her father's neck, resting her head on his shoulder after he scooped her into his arms. "What are you doing up, huh? You don't need to be up for another couple hours." The girl shrugged, coughing. He pulled away, studying her. "You feeling all right, Yonah?"

The little girl looked up at him, before reaching up and wiping at her nose; Tim gently caught her wrist. Without a word, he set her on the counter, pushing up the sleeve of her nightgown, and instantly paled. "Abba?" His attention was drawn away from the girl when he heard Shirah, and turned to find Ziva behind her, Nahara in her arms. "I feel itchy." Tim met his wife's gaze.

Ziva was tired; clearly, the girls had gotten her up not long after he'd gotten up. Occasionally, she would join him, but the majority of the time she stayed home with the girls, knowing that it was Tim's time to remember those early mornings spent jogging in Israel with his father, and she didn't want to encroach. "The girls are sick. Now I am not an expert, but I think they might have-"

"Chicken pox." Tim filled in, Ziva furrowed a brow as he lifted Yoni off the counter and settled her back on his hip.

"But... how would the girls get-"

"Trust me, baby, kids can pick up anything from anywhere." He grabbed the phone, dialing Gibbs's number. "Hey, Ziva, have you had-"

"Hello?"

"No, baby, I never had-"

"Hey Boss, it's McGee. Listen, the girls are sick. They've got chickenpox, so I won't be coming in today, but Ziva will be."

"What?" Ziva shifted Nara on her hip, going to her husband. They spent several minutes arguing silently, unaware that Gibbs had, in the meantime, hung up and left the house; since he lived in Silver Spring, it didn't take him long to get to the apartment, and soon the couple were interrupted by a knock at the door. Shirah rushed to get it.

"Hi, Gibbs." Setting the phone down, Tim and Ziva rushed into the living room; Gibbs was in the doorway, a bag slung over his shoulder. He scooped Shirah up, shutting the door behind him. Without a word, he moved past the adults, headed for Shirah's room.

"You two need to get ready and head in." Tim shook his head.

"Um, Boss, we can't. We have to be here to take care of the girls-" Gibbs looked up from tucking Shirah back into bed.

"I will take care of the girls." The couple shared a glance.

"Um, Gibbs, have you ever... taken care of anyone with-"

"You can't be exposed, Ziver." Gibbs cut her off, taking Nara from her. "So go get ready for work. Both of you. And tell Tony that unless a case comes in, it's colds for the day. Got it?" He headed back towards Nara's bedroom, tucking the little girl into her bed, her parents hot on his heels. Without a word, he took Yoni from her father and headed to her room, tucking her in, hearing and ignoring Tim and Ziva's protests the entire way. Once all three children were tucked safely in their beds, he turned to the couple. "You've never had chickenpox, have you, Ziva?"

"Well... there was an outbreak in elementary school when we were eight-years-old, but..." She glanced at Tim. "Everyone else got it; I never did."

Gibbs nodded, turning to Tim. "Both Sarah and I had."

"Which means if Ziver gets it, it could put her in Bethesda." He nodded towards the master bedroom. "Go get dressed. Let Tony know what's going on, and that I won't be in today." Minutes passed, before they did as told. He then dialed Tony, letting him know of the situation, and that they were to work cold cases unless a hot one came in.

"Gibbs?" He ended the call, turning to Nara.

"What'cha need, kid?"

"Ima." Gibbs smiled softly; he remembered a time when Kelly had asked the same of him; Shannon had been away visiting her mother, and Kelly had cried and whined the entire time. So he knew what the child was going through. After a moment, he took a seat on the bed beside her.

"Ima has never had chickenpox, Nar. If she catches them, they'll make her very sick."

"Like us?"

"No, sweetheart. None of you will be that bad. But if a grown-up catches them, especially one who's never had them, they could end up in the hospital. So we have to make sure Ima stays away for the next week or so. Maybe Abba would be willing to take Ima away for a while, so they can spend time together, while you three get better."

"But whose... care of us?" She asked, coughing. Gibbs chuckled.

"I am."