Rifiuto: Non Miriena
The doors didn't fully close. Ziva looked up as they opened, and Tali removed her hand before stepping inside. Both sisters were quiet as the doors closed and the elevator began to lower. Eventually, though, Tali reached for the emergency switch and flipped it before turning to her sister. Ziva stood, stoic, in the middle of the elevator, hands folded tight. She stared at nothing, the tears racing down her cheeks. "Explain it to me, Zivaleh." Her sister kept quiet. "Ziva, talk to me." She went to her sister, grasping her chin and forcing her head to the side. "Talk to me, Zivaleh. Explain it to me. Now. Start at the beginning." Ziva searched her sister's dark eyes, before turning away from her.
"Jenny was killed." Tali stared at her sister, confused.
"Um..."
"Jenny Shepard, is- was- the Director of NCIS. We attended her funeral this morning. She is the reason I was at NCIS in the first place."
"Okay." Ziva swallowed. "I saved Jenny's life in Cairo, two years before coming to America. Asher was six. It was six months after your death..." She stopped, her dark eyes darting to the side to take in her sister's expression. Tali didn't react. She bit her lip. "She got in the way of our assassination assignment. A shootout ensued. She and the other agents she was with got caught in our crossfire."
All she could see was the smoke as it filled the Cairo hotel lobby. The last contact she'd had with the redheaded American was when she'd slammed into her while chasing after their suspect. Suddenly, a flash of red hair caught her attention, and she rushed towards her. "No! Get out of the way!"
"The man we were after was a high-ranking official of some sort, and he had a bomb strapped to his chest. Jenny was going after him, just as he lifted the device and moved to press the button. I managed to get her out of the way. It blew up half the lobby; she would have been dead if I had not-" Ziva swallowed. "We spent two weeks after that, comparing notes on the case- turns out she was targeting the same assassination we were."
Her own words came back to her, the light joke at who had recruited her to Mossad that she'd had with Tony that night after she showed up in America:
Aunt? Mother? Sister? Lesbian lover?
She swallowed, meeting her sister's eyes. "I had told her of Asher, of his father."
She watched the redhead pull the sheets closer to her chest. After a moment, she rummaged around, finding the blouse she'd tossed to the side the night before. Facing the mirror, she pulled it on. "So, tell me about your son's father."
Swallowing, Ziva glanced down at her hands as she fidgeted with the buttons. Her fingers slowly moved off the buttons to caress her stomach. She heard Jenny get up and pull something on, before looking up to see her standing before her. Gently, the older woman brushed her blouse aside, revealing the few marks left from her pregnancy. The faint silver marks had faded some with time, but were still evident. "The father of your son. Tell me about him. Please, Ziva."
She took a deep breath, swallowing. "His name... is Timothy McGee. He was the American Ambassador's son. I do not know much more than that, except that he was going to go to a very prestigious college in America. That is all I know."
She stopped, turning to face her sister. "We parted ways; I never expected to see her again, and then... nearly a year ago, I recieved an e-mail from her, asking me to come to America. Said she... she knew where Asher's father was, wanted me to... to be a part of his life, because she knew what it was like to grow up without a parent, and she did not want that for my son."
"You slept with her." Tali whispered, as Ziva's gaze snapped up.
"In Cairo. Once. Because I was missing Tim, and she was missing her partner, and we needed someone there. We needed who we could not have, but I have never let my heart stray from Tim. He is mine and I am his-"
"I know." Tali replied, reaching up and taking her sister's face in her hands. "I know you love him; I understand. Under those circumstances, you took whatever comfort you could get, from someone who wouldn't reject you when they discovered about Asher. I understand, Zivaleh." She gently brushed the tears away.
Her mouth left hot kisses on the soft olive skin. One small hand pulled the older woman closer, running up the back of the milky white thigh. A soft, breathy moan escaped her throat as soft lips moved down to tease her nipple, and after a moment, she flipped them over, pressing the American agent into the mattress. She searched Jenny's eyes, as the woman reached up and tangled her fingers in the long dark curls. After a moment, she leaned down, capturing the older woman's mouth with hers. As Jenny curled on hand in her dark curls, she reached down, tangling her fingers in Ziva's with the other.
"When Jenny became director, she set me up as a Mossad liaison for NCIS... so that Tim and I could reconnect, but now..." She sniffled. "How do I make them understand, Tali? How do I make my boys understand that the last thing I want to do is leave them?" She choked on a sob, and her sister wrapped her in a hug.
"Oh Zivaleh..." She held the older woman close, tangling her fingers in the long, dark hair. Ziva buried her face in her sister's shoulder, sobbing. "I am so sorry, Zivaleh. I'm so sorry." She pressed a kiss to her sister's head. "So, so sorry."