For those trying to keep track, this is the third day (if you count the evening they got there) so it is Sunday. The wedding is on Friday and they leave Sunday.
She went inside and faked a shiver for the women inside.
"Oh, it's cold! I'm going to run and take a hot shower."
"Okay. We will have lunch ready when you come down," Ilaria said.
"Wonderful! I'll hurry so I can help a little," Ziva said with a wink.
They laughed and she ran upstairs to jump in the shower. She didn't really shower. More like stand under hot water and try to wash the strange feeling she had off. It wasn't helping so she got out quickly. She felt refreshed though and that was better than nothing.
Ziva got dressed and walked down to the kitchen. The old ladies were there, making a late lunch and Hannah was with little Isabella on the couch in the sitting room that was attached to it. Ziva grabbed a glass of water and went to sit with them.
"Have fun?" Hannah asked as she sat.
"Yeah, it was great. We always played soccer in Israel but never in the snow!"
Hannah laughed. "Yeah I bet. I was never a sports person. I was a cheerleader," she said with a shrug.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I am only good at soccer because I had an older brother and I am athletic anyway. Actually, I was a dancer until I was about 14. Then my father decided that it was time to start training for Mossad."
"I'm sorry," Hannah said softly.
"Don't be. I always knew that that would be my life. War and fighting."
"But you're in America now. And you have Tony."
"Yes, I suppose so. I never really thought about it. I am still an agent."
"Plenty of agents are married with families."
"I could never do that. I mean, I am too afraid of being trapped to ever get married. And I love kids but I am unable to have them."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Things happen. Just do not tell Tony. He doesn't know."
"But you guys are together. What if he asks you to marry him and you haven't told him?"
"I will tell him. But if you tell him only that I can not have children then he will… discover things that I would rather he did not know just yet." She was looking down into her lap.
"What do you mean, 'discover things'?"
She took a breath. "I was held hostage in a terrorist camp for three months. I was… abused. And now I cannot have children. Tony still blames himself."
"Oh my God, Ziva. I'm so sorry, I didn't know."
"Hannah, do not worry. It is not your fault."
"I shouldn't have asked though."
"Really Hannah it is fine."
"You haven't told Tony?" Ziva shook her head. "How is that possible? You are sleeping together, right?" she asked with a smirk.
Ziva looked at her. A hard decision. "You would have to ask Tony about the status of our relationship."
Hannah looked at her for a second longer. Ziva thought she was going to ask a question but then Isabella started to fuss. "Oh she's hungry. I pumped some milk while you were all out. I'll just go heat it up. Would you hold her for me?" she asked tentatively, trying to break the tense atmosphere that had been created.
Ziva grinned at her and the ice was broken. Hannah realized as she looked at her that this woman, who had been through so much, still had a positive outlook on life. She smiled back and passed Isabella to Ziva.
Ziva sat there with Isabella as Hannah heated the milk. Ziva rocked her softly as she fussed, wanting her milk. Hannah reappeared and Ziva noticed how frazzled she looked.
"I can feed her if you want to go clean up for lunch? Have a minute to yourself, you know?"
"Really?" Hannah asked, a surprised but grateful look on her face. "That would be great! Thanks so much Ziva!" She passed Ziva the bottle and a cloth, before hurrying upstairs.
Ziva settled the baby in her arms and began to feed her. She cooed as Isabella drank hungrily. When she finished, Ziva stood to burp her. She moved the soiled towel off her shoulder and sat back down on the couch. Little Isabella looked up at her for a moment and Ziva started to quietly talk to her. She touched her little baby face and let Isabella grab index finger and hold on so tight. She smiled down at her.
She saw movement at the doorway. Hannah had reappeared but she didn't come in. In front of her was Tony, leaning against the doorframe. He was grinning like a fool and her heart began to flutter remembering what had happened on the field. Hannah wisely left.
"How long have you been standing there?" Ziva asked Tony.
"Long enough to know that you like kids a lot more than you ever let on." He kept staring at her.
"What?" she asked finally.
"Trying to imagine you with your own kid."
"Don't," she said roughly. "We are not the Raniers."
He then remembered that conversation and tried to imagine her pregnant again. It was a very pretty image. He just hoped that the kid was his.
She turned back to little Isabella. She was fast asleep. Ziva stood and walked past Tony (with only one awkward, deep look) to get to the dining room and put her in the bassinet that was there. Tony followed her and watched, with that annoying smile on his face, as she laid Isabella down.
If he kept grinning as he watched her with a baby (and she worried he was imagining that it was their baby), she would have to tell him about Somalia.