Chapter 25

A/N: Hebrew is in Italics (there is very little).

November 22nd 1999

Still in Israel, Ziva had been living on the street for almost a month. She slept in parks, hospital ER's even under bridges.

She was able to get food from the trash behind several restaurants until they chased her away.

She was thankful to still have her rucksack and clothes. She did end up giving most of her things to other 'street wanderers' as she liked to call them.

All Ziva wanted was some sort of bread, the soup kitchen had closed hours ago and she was so hungry, she couldn't sleep.

She went to the dumpster behind a bakery to look for scraps. As she was digging, a man came out from the back door. "Hey! Get out of there! I'm calling the police!"

Ziva jump out of the bin and ran as long as she could until she was out of breath.

Rounding a corner, she ducked into an alleyway, she thought to herself 'I don't know how much longer I can do this.' She began crying. Suddenly a back door opened, "Hey! No loitering, you street rat!" an American man's voice yelled.

Ziva sniffled, "I am sorry, I will leave." Wiping her eyes, she grabbed her bag.

The man hurled a bag of trash into a nearby dumpster, he heard the girl whimper. "Hey, wait, kid. Look, I'm sorry. I just had some trouble with some hoodlums lately. But you're no hoodlum, are ya kid?"

She turned around to him, shaking her head. "Are you American?"

He smiled, "Gee, how'd ya guess?" Chuckling, he held out his hand, "Larry Whitmore, nice to meet ya."

She shook his hand. "I'm Ziva." She smiled at him, his eyes looked kind.

Larry was probably in his late forties; he was from New York; he had graying light brown hair and light blue eyes that almost reminded her of Gibbs'.

"Come on inside, kid." Ziva looked at him, skeptically. "I ain't gonna hurt ya, come on."

Ziva sat on a bar stool at the counter, her feet dangling. She sipped grape juice through a straw.

"So, Ziver," Her heart dropped a bit, hearing her special nickname be used by someone else, his new New York accent was obvious. "What're ya doin' wanderin' around by yourself?" He leaned against the counter.

Ziva swallowed, "Um, my foster parents…" She searched for the words in English. "Abandoned me here. I was in foster care and they did not want me anymore so they kicked me out." She lied, but it was a good lie.

Larry looked confused, "What about your birth parents?" He asked, pouring her more grape juice.

"They died. I was going to be sent to America to live with my… uncle… but the foster agency already placed me with someone." She said, sipping her juice.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. So, where are ya gonna go now?" She shrugged. "Well ya can't stay with me, I'm flying out to the District in 3 days."

Ziva looked questionably at him, "The District? I do not understand."

Larry pulled out his wallet, "Washington, DC, in America. I've been here for 3 months to take over my cousin's bar while he serves over in Kuwait." He shows her his ID. "I'm finally going to get to see my girlfriend. It's been so hard being away from her for so long."

Ziva looked at him excitedly, "Can I see a picture? What's her name?"

He dug into his wallet for a photo, "She's a Navy gal, we met in college but lost touch. Thankfully we caught up with each other last year at a bar. J's the big boss at the investigative service." He hands Ziva the photo.

Ziva gasps, "Wait, your girlfriend is Jenny Shepard?!"

Larry laughed, "How do you know Jenny?"

She began to tell him the REAL story about what happened to her. Turned out that he knew Gibbs as well, through Jenny.

After processing everything she'd told him, he realized, "Hey, wait, you're 16 now, right? So you're able to see Gibbs?"

She nodded, tearing up. "I just…I feel like he probably does not care about me anymore. He has probably forgotten me."

Larry put his hand on her shoulder. "Little Zi, he does not forget anyone. That man has the memory of an elephant."

Ziva looked at him confused, "I do not know what that means, but, okay." Larry laughed.

"So, little lady, ya wanna come to DC with me?" He asked, hopeful.

She said nothing, practically jumping across the counter to wrap her arms around his neck, knocking over her glass in the process. "Oh! I am so sorry!" She said, blushing.

Larry chuckled, "Hey, no worries, young lady, I'm just glad you're finally going to get to the US. Do you want me to tell Jenny you're coming?"

Ziva thought about it, "No! I want it to be a surprise. Oh goodness I am so… elated!" Larry looked at her, confused by her Hebrew. " I think I mean extra happy…I can't think of a word in English for it."

He laughed, ruffling her hair. "I'm excited for you, kid. Now, come on, let's get you in a shower, you do not smell great."

Ziva made an annoyed face. "Hey I just tell the truth! I live right upstairs, why don't you get settled and I'll see if I can scrounge up some dinner." He noticed her looking at him hesitantly. "But first I'll see about getting you some duds."

She was confused, "Duds? What are duds?" He laughed loudly at this.

"I mean clothing. I probably have a t-shirt and shorts you can wear, but it's gonna be real cold in DC."

Ziva looked embarrassed, "Oh, I have sweaters and skirts, long sleeve shirts, but they are...not very clean."

Larry looked at her sadly, "Hey, I'll do ya laundry for ya."

Ziva smiled, "Toda, Mr. Whitmore." She hugged him.

"Hey none of that Mister stuff. Call me Larry. And get your stinky butt upstairs."

She laughed and ran up the stairs. Larry opened a beer and listened to the radio. He hadn't felt so good in a long time.

A/N: Yeah this chapter was weird and I rewrote it like 3 times but it was mainly fluff to get Ziva to the US. Don't worry, Larry is truly a good guy, nothing bad will happen to Ziva with him! Promise!