Conversations
This chapter follows Grace Period, the episode where Paula Cassidy and her team are killed.
So guys, the 200 review mark is coming up! Leave me some? As added incentive, tomorrow is my birthday, and you'll totally start it off right by writing me a nice note to find in the morning!
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Ziva pulled up in front of Gibbs' house just as Hollis Mann stepped outside, a look of frustration clear on her face. Ziva ducked out of view as the woman left, then slid out of the car.
"Not now, I said," Gibbs snapped as Ziva stepped down the stairs into his basement.
Ziva stopped, uncertain, but when he saw her the strain faded from Gibbs' face and he jerked his head to signal her to join him.
He poured her a glass of bourbon, holding it out to her as she reached him.
Ziva sipped, then set it down. "It's alright that I am here?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yeah," he sighed. "Hollis just...it's too soon for this, with her."
"To deal with your grief?"
"No." Gibbs crossed to the boat, beginning to sand back and forth, while Ziva watched him in surprise.
"No?"
"You said you knew what she was going through," Gibbs said, changing the subject.
Ziva frowned, then answered. "When I was in the army, I was a leader in my unit. Four of my men and women were once killed on a mission that I sent them on." She continued to stare at the back of his head as he nodded once. Ziva added quietly, "but she did not—I did not understand her decision to die. So perhaps I did not know what she was going through."
Gibbs leaned forward, resting his forehead against the wood. He was silent, but Ziva waited. "You've said that Mossad wasn't like a family."
"No."
"Not the army either?"
Ziva shrugged though he couldn't see. "Not like this."
Gibbs turned to her, grief in his eyes. "I lost a family once, Ziva," he said roughly. "I know exactly what she was going through."
Ziva took an involuntary step toward him, but Gibbs returned to sanding before she reached him.
"But you said you are not grieving," she pointed out, confused.
His hands slowed, then continued. "It was supposed to be us," he said.
She could hear the tears in his voice and knew why he hadn't turned.
"It was supposed to be you, and Tony, and McGee. And I would have been the one in that car, watching--"
Ziva slid her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades.
Gibbs let one of his hands settle on top of hers.
"I would not want to lose any of you either," she whispered into his sweatshirt, the scent of sawdust flooding her senses. It was true. She'd tried not to remember the feeling, even as she did her best to provide a target for Cassidy. It had been awful to lose soldiers, but thinking about losing the team was far worse.
"So it's hard to be sorry she's gone, is all," Gibbs finished gruffly. "Because if she weren't..."
"Then we would be."
He squeezed her hand again.
