Rifiuto: Non Miriena

"What are you looking at, Tim?" He turned from the kitchen window as Ziva joined him.

"I think Asher decided to do something about his problem with Devin." She leaned close, looking through the window, eyes wide, a smile tugging at her lips.

"What did you tell him?" He shrugged.

"Just to make a choice." She nodded, taking his hands.

"Well, since Asher is making one, why don't you make one also? I could use a shower, and I would like some company." She pulled his hands to rest on her waist. He chuckled, pulling her closer and whispering softly in her ear,

"I would love to, baby."

Her mouth was soft, really soft; and she tasted like the iced tea Ima had made the day before. A moment passed, before she reached down and took his hand, slowly lacing their fingers. He slowly pulled away, searching her eyes, but they were closed tight, and after a moment, he gathered his book and stood to flee back to the house, but he only succeeded in tumbling back to the grass. Devin opened her eyes and she looked at him. "S... sorry, Devin I... I didn't mean to..." But this time she closed the gap between them, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away. A blush crept over her cheeks, and she glanced down at the grass.

"So... so where do... what do we..." He shrugged, opening his book and returning to his stomach on the grass. She watched, sitting up. "So... so you kiss me and then read?" Asher looked up at her.

"Do you want read it to?" She huffed softly, and then leaned close.

"What are you reading?" He showed her the cover- The Complete Sherlock Holmes Collection. "What story are you on?"

He glanced at the top of the page, before turning towards her. "'A Scandal in Bohemia.'"

"I like Hound of the Baskervilles better, but-"

"Anything by Doyle is good." After a moment, she lay down beside him; he shifted the book over so she could see.

"Can we start at the beginning?"

He sighed. "Sure." He shifted back to the first chapter of the story. They lay together, the sun warm on their backs, only the rustling of the wind and the turning of pages to break their concentration. Devin lay her head on Asher's shoulder; he glanced at her, a little nervous, especially when he realized she was engrossed in the story. Slowly, he pulled away, causing her to collapse back on the grass. "Sorry." She blushed, and looked away.

Asher shrugged and rested his arms on the book, chin on his arms. He winced hearing the faint boom of explosions and gunfire in the distance, and remembered the newspaper clippings in his father's scrapbook and the box of rubber bullets he'd brought down. Some of the article headlines had scared him- Ulster's Bloody Sunday, Stormont PM Faulkner 'helped cover up truth of bar bombing', Twenty-one hurt in Irish street battles- and others were just heartbreaking, and a few even funny.

"'Please don't give children Toy Guns for Christmas.'"

"What?" He looked up at Devin, who sat watching him, confused.

"Abba has a scrapbook with a lot of articles about the... the Troubles." Her eyes widened.

"Ye know about the Troubles?" He shrugged.

"A little. Not much. Just that they were in Northern Ireland, and that a lot of people died." She swallowed.

"It was a bad time." Asher lay his head on his arms.

"How do you know?" A moment passed in silence, before Devin spoke. When she did, her voice was shaky.

"Me... me Ma's oldest brother was... was one of the hunger strikers that died in... in nineteen-eighty-one."

"Hunger striker?" Devin stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"Ye don't know what a hunger strike is?" He shook his head.

"I know what it is, I just... I've never heard..." She nodded, understanding. She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she stared at the ground.

"I never met me Uncle Bobby. 'e led the hunger strike in the HM Prison Maze." She chuckled softly. "'e was elected t' the British Parliament as an Anti-H Block candidate but 'e ne'er got to take his seat in the commons. He died a month after winning, of self-inflicted starvation. Margaret Thatcher called him a criminal, and that he chose to take his life. I've met me cousin Gerard, but I ne'er got to meet him. There's a mural in Belfast with him on it." Asher shook his head.

"I've never seen it."

"Ye've nev'r been up t' Northern Ireland?"

"No."

"Ye should go up some time. 'tis beautiful. There are murals all around Northern Ireland remembering the Troubles."

"Do... do you think they'll paint murals to remember this too?" She shrugged.

"If it's as bad as the Troubles in Northern Ireland, maybe. Why?" He shook his head. They sat in silence, before Asher closed his book and got up. He headed back towards the house, preferring to be inside, when he felt something latch onto him. Quickly, his head snapped down, to see Devin's hand slip into his. She gave him a small nervous smile, that he slowly returned.

Liron looked up as his brother entered the kitchen. His green eyes instantly snapped towards Asher and Devin's hands, and the older boy quickly pulled away from the girl, setting his book on the counter. Something sparked in the younger boy's green eyes, and Asher watched carefully, gaze narrowed. As Liron opened his mouth, Asher cut him off.

"Don't!" Liron's eyes widened in surprise.

"I haven't said anything!"

"But you're going to, I know it!" Liron crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his brother. Devin watched the siblings argue, a blush creeping into her cheeks. As Liron once again opened his mouth, Asher lost his patience. "Sheket b'vakashah!"

"Um... what... what does that mean?" Devin asked, glancing at the siblings. Liron sighed.

"It is Hebrew for-"

"Shut up." Asher snapped, glaring at his brother.

"Who is supposed to shut up?" All three turned as Zipporah came down the stairs and into the kitchen. She looked from each person to the next, confused.

"Asher has a girlfriend." Liron replied, grinning.

"I don't have a girlfriend!" He snapped, Gibbs-ing his younger brother. Liron glared at him and got up, going into the living room.

"Really? Who?" Liron stopped, nodding towards Devin, who glanced at her feet, embarrassed to be the center of the conversation. Zipporah's eyes widened in surprise.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Asher snapped, as his sister clapped her hands in excitement.

"Who has a girlfriend?" All four turned to see Ziva come down the stairs, Tim following behind, buttoning his shirt. She had a towel over her shoulders, and was drying her damp curls. Asher glanced at his parents, shaking in embarrassment.

"I don't have a girlfriend." He muttered, storming past his parents and up the stairs to his room. Ziva turned back to the other kids, confused.

"What did I say?"