Hi, everyone. Sorry for the incredibly long wait. Right now, that seems to be how I have to approach this story. I know it's annoying but I will try. For now, this is what I can do.

Thanks for all who have encouraged and asked me for updates. Your reviews and messages are helpful, even if it doesn't seem like it. ;)

Here you go!

Gibbs' blood pressure went up a lot that afternoon.

Please, don't make me have to spank you again, Ziver, he thought to himself countless times while looking out the window with concern or listening for footsteps that did not come home on time.

Maybe she's just a little late. That's fine.

But still no Ziva.

Maybe she's lost track of time. That'd be fine too.

Still, no Ziva.

Maybe she pulled a muscle and is having to take it slow.

No Ziva.

He had to face the obvious - she was testing him.

Again.

And he was going to have to stand firm and likely tan her hide when she got back. He bypassed sanding to work on the boat with a chisel for a bit. Sometimes he hated being a parent.

Or more, aspects of being a parent. He was more rationale when he didn't have to make decisions on how to spank a rebellious young lady flaunting her poor choices all day.

He had sufficient time to think, and when Ziva pranced in smugly an hour after he had told her to be back, he did not say anything. She was clearly still in one piece and well. She did not even try to mutter out an apology. But some of the smugness disappeared when he firmly took her by the arm and marched her downstairs and quietly led her over to a saw bench. Nearby was a paddle. He had not had occasion to make a paddle for her yet, but he assumed that the "generic" one would make a big enough impact this time. Once he figured out her reactions a little more, he would know what she would need for a paddle.

There was a little balking - her eyes were big, even though she was stubbornly trying to maintain her dignity and not give in that she was bothered by the impending chastisement in the slightest - but he deftly tugged her to his side.

"You want to play that little game, missy?" he asked sternly, holding her wrist with one hand and pointing to the paddle with the other. "Well, this is what it'll get you."

He could not keep all of the frustration out of his voice, although he was still making sure to maintain enough calmness to be fair. But he could not help the frustration that despite all the warnings, she had pushed him and pushed him and pushed him - and it was not even close to the day being done yet. Could she not tell how much he hated doing this? The lifting his hand, knowing that he was about to cause pain to her? Having to scold even when repentant wiggles and squirms started? Feeling the heat of a well-spanked bottom through pants or underwear? And now - to have to use a paddle on her? He saved paddlings for the bigger spankings - the ones to say that "enough is enough".

He had done it with Abby (or Abigail, as she'd been in that moment).

Then Tony/Anthony

Tim/Timothy had got it too.

And now his Ziver - Ziva - would have to experience it too, because the truth was that he loved her too much to let her keep getting away with thinking that she could rebel and that no one would care enough to rescue her from herself and her broken ideas about life and support and leadership and family.

"You're getting this because I love you too much to let you rebel like you just did without consequences," he said in explanation, his heart hurting a little as he reached over and picked up the paddle and rested it against her bottom.

"Try to hold still."

...

Ziva had arrived back with a that-will-show-him attitude firmly entrenching her stubborn little heart. She knew what she could expect - or thought she had. She was going to make sure that Gibbs realized that the spankings were doing no good and then she was going to be able to have her own way all the way back to her own apartment and her own life and her own ... everything!

But the firm walk down to the basement was rather uncomfortable. Her stomach felt like it was dropping, dropping, dropping...

When she saw the paddle, it somehow dropped even further.

The position across Gibbs' knees was getting more familiar, but the sawhorse did not give as much support as her bed or the sofa. She felt a little more helpless, draped over his knee, waiting. But this time was a little abnormal. Her heart - was it racing faster than normal? Her mouth - it was so dry! Every second no longer felt like a second.

And then Gibbs rested the paddle against her bottom and it all came back. The spectrum of trauma flashed through her mind.

Fear. Never knowing what to expect from those charged with her fate.

Hurt. Pain that went beyond her skin and had seared her soul.

Humiliation. No one caring what she had to experience as "punishment" for some minor failing that was magnified until all common sense was abolished.

"No! No! No!" she sobbed, the words exploding from her in a frenzy. She was kicking and trying to pull away but unable to escape, more from an overwhelming panic than a lack of strength or Gibbs holding her too firmly. Old memories were decapacitating her. "Please, stop!"

I will try to update this weekend. :)

MM