Liberosis - The desire to care less about things.

Sometimes she wished she wasn't human. It would make everything much easier to deal with. Easier to cope. Less painful. Less frustrating. Oh, Ziva knew of the jokes that were exchanged behind her back in fleeting whispers. That she cold hearted. Uncaring. Robotic. She had even heard the more ridiculous ones about her being some sort of mythological monster because of her ruthless abilities and ability to terrify. The winning idea was that she was a vampire of some sort though that would probably change within the month. Last month there was overwhelming confidence in her being a resurrected samurai. She'd shared that one with Tony, knowing he would get a kick out of it. He had but had also shaken his head and assured her that she was more like a ninja than a samurai. She smiled in remembrance of the first time he had used that particular ninja. His voice was always tinged with awe and warmth when he used it. It was... nice.

Unlike when other people spoke of her, their voices tinged with fear or derision. Wide eyes or a sneer on their lips. They didn't matter. They didn't. Why should she care about what other people thought of her? People who she didn't even care about. She didn't. She really didn't. Really. Never had and never would. Caring about someone or something meant that it could be used against you. It would be a weakness to be exploited, a way for someone to gain the upper hand.

But, and Ziva was hesitant to admit this (even to herself), although she didn't care about what most people thought of her, there were a select few whose opinion very much mattered to her.

She looked across the bullpen and smiled softly. Tony was 'gently harassing' McGee over some software he had mistakenly been raving about, Abby was perched on Gibbs' desk and chatting away to whoever would listen - pigtails swinging and Gibbs was seemingly ignoring everyone but Ziva knew he was silently taking it all in. He appreciated moments like these just like her. Even Ducky and Palmer were up, the former to deliver a report (no urgency just a slow day) and the latter, well, Ziva couldn't remember why Palmer had left the basement. Of course, Ducky couldn't leave without regaling them with a story (or three) and no one was in any real hurry to get back to work...

Her heart swelled with emotion, like it had grown three times its size. This is what it felt like to know that you really belonged somewhere, that you were a part of something important. A family. She smiled. How cheesy. But very true. She hadn't had that feeling in a long time. Not since, she froze briefly, not since Tali was alive.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to blink them away. Everyone seemed to be very aware of her presence these days, ready to jump to her defence if she even hinted that something might be wrong. She did not need her tears being drawn to their attention.

She shook her head and scowled. No. She wasn't going to let her feelings overwhelm her like that. It wasn't happening. Today was going so well, Ziva did not need a panic attack to spoil it. She ducked her head down, hoping that she hadn't caught anyone's attention, and took deep breaths - trying to be as quiet as possible. In. Out. In. Out. Count backwards from ten. Repeat. Slowly, but surely, she felt the wave of emotions recede so they were no longer overwhelming her. A few more deeps breaths. Now she was good. Just about.

This was why she didn't want to deal with emotions, especially hers. All they did was cause trouble.

This was another reason why she wished she could push everyone away. Caring for things just got you into trouble, sometimes physically, sometimes emotionally. It was the emotional part she couldn't really handle. She never wanted to handle them.

Abby laughed loudly, making Ziva's gaze flick to the dark-haired woman. Even after all this time she didn't fully understand Abby. She doubted anyone did. Except for Gibbs. What always had puzzled Ziva was Abby's immense ability to care. She cared about everyone and everything she came across so wholeheartedly that it made Ziva's head spin. It was incomprehensible. How could you live like that? Emotions were so overwhelming at the best of times; she didn't know how Abby managed hers. Ziva would prefer to care less, that would make things more manageable, while Abby seemed to want to care more. Caring less meant she had to have less to care about. Which meant, like she thought earlier, she ought to be keeping everyone away, or at the very least at arm's length.

Of course, being them, they refused to stay away. They didn't listen to her reasoning, took no note of her complaints. They made her care about them; she couldn't help it.

"Ziva, come tell Tony how ridiculous he is!" Abby called over.

"Please," McGee muttered, glaring at her partner who looked very pleased with himself.

Case in point.

With a sigh and an exaggerated eye roll, Ziva stood up and strode over so she completed the semi-circle around McGee's desk. She didn't even know what had been going on.

"What has Tony done now?"

"Now, Ziva, you're meant to be on my side," Tony prefaced.

She raised an eyebrow at him. It felt good to be doing this familiar dance again. He gave her a look before breaking out into a smirk. A very Tony smirk. It warmed her in ways that she didn't want to think about.

And there were those feelings again. Ziva looked around seeing Tony's challenging gaze, Abby' delighted smile, McGee's wary look and Palmer's confused expression and a strange, but not unwelcome, feeling came over her. It was a rush of affection. Pure, unadulterated affection for each and every person here.

Maybe it was an okay thing to care.