Hello! Thanks to everyone who read it and I hoped you liked it. I know I'm updating really fast right now but because school is starting and I'll take a lot longer, probably. Maybe not. I just watched that episode that a man made a bomb and was going to make the detonator blah blah yada yada and at the end, Ziva says 'my father taught me' when they throw and catch with a baseball. Idk if you've see this episode yet. Anyway, go read, and enjoy! Bye!
She was out of practice. Ziva stood in front of the cardboard human and raised the knife. She remembered what her father had taught her. Straight past the ear, smooth, quick and silent. Ziva threw the knife and the blade sank into the belly. Not good enough, Zivaleh, she imagined her father saying.
"I know, Abba," she grumbled to herself. "Not good enough."
"Looks good enough to me," a voice uttered. Ziva spun around, her hand snatching a knife of the table. Gibbs stood there, smirking. He walked over and threw a knife. It hit the shoulder. He shrugged and pressed a kiss to her temple, gently prying her fingers off the handle of the knife. He put an arm around her and guided her out of the room.
"Come on, Ziver. Wanna play some baseball?"
...
Ziva and Gibbs walked out onto the field and he tossed her the glove. She slipped it on, grimacing at the unfamiliar, foreign feeling of the leather against her hand.
"My fingers feel weird," she complained. When she had been learning how to throw a knife and she told her father that she didn't want to he cut her with the knife she was using. A hand brushed her hair back gently and she saw blue eyes look into her own, filled with concern.
"You ok, Ziver?" he asked. She nodded because she was always ok. She was always fine. Gibbs pulled on his own glove and tossed her the ball. She caught it and threw it back.
"Straight past the ear, smooth, quick and forceful," he told her, his voice gentle. Ziva chewed her lip and caught it as he threw it back again. She caught it and threw it back, just like he instructed. It was so much like throwing a knife, but at the same time so different.
"Good girl," Gibbs praised. He watched the young woman beam as she threw it back. He had a feeling this was one of the few times she had been complimented before. He caught it and looked at it in his glove.
"Love you, Ziver," he said quietly, and threw it back.
...
"Hey Gibbs, have a catch?" she called, tossing him a glove. They walked out a few metres and she threw the ball to him. He caught it and threw it back, repeating that process a few times before McGee asked a question.
"Where'd you learn how to play baseball?" he asked, curiosity in his voice. Ziva smiled as she answered, throwing the ball to Gibbs.
"My father taught me."
Is it good? I hope so. Sorry it took a little longer to update. I've been busy with school and also, I think I'm getting a case of WRITERS BLOCK! Please give me ideas in reviews. Please check out my other stories. Thanks to everyone who read this story. Bye!