Oh my land! Please don't tell me that I actually last posted in this in OCTOBER?! My goodness! I'm so sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long. I thought that I had posted at least in November. :( At the end of the semester it felt like I had used up every spare brain cell in my head among my jobs, school work (the GPA went up to 4.04!), and this pesky "little" thing called Covid. Maybe you've heard of it? The constant changes and stress have been taking a toll. Still, I'm sorry that you've all been waiting so long. I had a chapter prepared, and then I ended up changing it around a bit (good news - it got longer!). Anyways, to those who have been checking in on this story and waiting, this chapter is for you, the faithful. ;D
Thanks to those who have reviewed - Troubled-Angel-26, Sarai, Loads of Randomness, didemi, Gibbs4Eva, JessicaRae95, Guest, Luv reading 67, helltowngirl61, pjl0491, Ludy, Guest, Fan, DS2010, Fashionista-girl, Guest, Guest, mrownoitcifnaf, NCISLover10, and sue, for your strongly worded concerns. Saying that, I can understand why people have concerns over my writing. After all, spanking fiction is not everyone's thing. So, the next paragraph is going to be me explaining why it is mine. :)
Ironically, that comment made me thing through that writing this story, as strange as it may sound, I'm able to work through past demons of my own and be able to heal in some ways that I can't exactly work through in my own rl circumstances. This story is most of all for me, and then also for the readers, some of whom share the same emotional needs that I do. I grew up being told that the adults in my life who hurt me were just showing love. I grew up in a fundamentalist church that seemed to constantly talk about spanking kids. As a child, I didn't receive support in being able to tell true love apart from abuse (and there was abuse, not just discipline, due to how it was done). I grew up thinking that if God made parents do that, then it must be loving and I needed to combine those things in my head. Forgive me if my head got screwed up by circumstances outside of my control. By reading - and then writing - family discipline fiction, I was able to find a way to go back to those experiences and give consent. I know it isn't the healthiest way, but let's face it - lots of us weren't raised healthfully and are trying to get back there, but it takes time. I wanted non-sexual family discipline stories, but those can be scarce. I didn't want to have to read the "nasty stuff" while trying to sort through my own crazy emotions. So I started writing, and I discovered that in the NCIS fandom, there are some loyal readers (and other writers) who - for whatever personal reasons they may have, which likely differ from me - also enjoy spanking fiction in the contexts of consent, adulthood, family, and care. Maybe it's because in a fantasy environment - which is what any character world is - we have the freedom to view things a little differently. In rl, I do not have kids. When I do have them, I do not plan on spanking because of how much it messed me up when used in anger and in a way that violated what I had been taught in other areas of my life. I know others weren't messed up or could use this discipline tool in a safe way, but because of my background, the chances that I would use it incorrectly are so high that I don't think it'd be worth the risk. Besides, I have got a lot more teaching from different sources, and I now believe that God wants parents to raise their children in a loving way that shows compassion, forgiveness, gentle guidance, and kind discipline, rather than constant judgment and condemnation. But I still have had an interest in spanking where it relates to consensual adults - although as my own emotional needs have been met, my "need" for this has been slowly reducing. That's why I have written so many consensual spanking stories - because I think that there are people like me out there. People who have this interest but who do not want to read sexual stories or search for content elsewhere. I have tried to add to filling that gap so that people like me have more options that emphasize healing, relationship, love, and consent. I know that at some points I'm sure that I've failed in that, which is why I am so glad that I have readers who talk to me and give me their impressions. That has helped me avoid going too far off track. An example of that is at one point someone mentioned that Gibbs didn't let Ziva talk her way out of spanking. I realized that he had spanked her despite her protesting "no". I went back in right after and changed it to the fact that although she was protesting a little, she was still consenting and Gibbs made sure of that before disciplining her. I ask that you, my readers, continue to let me know if you see consent as not being prioritized. Your feedback is helpful and I am grateful for it. I am now even grateful for the people who have made me cry or doubt myself in the past, because in continuing to write despite what they said, I have learned how to be more sure in my stances and clear in my viewpoints. Thank you all!
Anyway, now that my long explanation is done... enjoy!
...
Ziva sensed something near her and she roused herself to waking consciousness. Momentarily confused about where she was, she tried to process the muted light bathing her. Rolling over she saw the frame of Gibbs' boat ... and Jenny. One of those belonged in Gibbs' basement and one did not. Confused as to whether or not she was dreaming, she continued to blink sleepily and rolled back onto her back. A very residual tenderness prickled at her bottom and she frowned.
"Good morning - or afternoon - sweetheart," Jenny said with the gentle tone that she seemed to use exclusively with Ziva. She leaned over and kissed her forehead.
"Afternoon?" Ziva asked, sitting up in confusion. For some reason her mind was slower to put together all of the events of yesterday. Then - suddenly - they hit her so hard that she gasped a little, feeling frozen in the remembrance.
I was so bad. Gibbs might have acted like he loved me last night but I know that he will...
"You slept well," Gibbs said with a small grin from where he stood on the stairs. He came down the rest of the way to come over and stand next to Jenny. Ziva scrambled to her feet, not liking the dynamic of them standing above her.
I need to expect bad things to...
"I came over to pick you up for our lunch date and Jethro said that you were still asleep."
I acted like a baby, slept like a baby, and now they'll...
"Glad that you got some rest. You needed it," Gibbs said.
Ziva looked back and forth between the two of them, standing in front of her. She wondered for a brief second if they could see the nasty echoes warring in her head. They kept interrupting just in time but ...
"We are here for you, Zi," Jenny said gently, holding out her arms.
Ziva stepped into the hug willingly and rested her head against Jenny's shoulder. She felt Gibbs hand gently run off her head and through her messy curls. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"I do not want to go out for lunch," she whispered, too conflicted to feel safe anywhere else but here in Gibbs' house.
"Then we'll stay," Jenny answered calmly.
"You still need some food. Come on," Gibbs said, not wasting any extra words as he turned back upstairs.
Jenny was in no hurry and after Gibbs disappeared toward the kitchen she hugged Ziva tightly.
"I am so proud of you," Jenny whispered.
"But I was so ba..."
"Shhh. No. You trusted Gibbs and I am proud of you."
Ziva took a deep, shaky breath. Jenny gave her an extra squeeze and then stepped back to look her in the face.
"Sweetie, I know that was hard. But keep trying, Zi. Don't stop."
"It is ... uncomfortable."
"It'll get easier."
Ziva looked up with wide, chocolate eyes. Her voice was squeaky as she asked, "Promise?"
Jenny kissed the top of her head.
"I can't promise, sweetie, because that's something that happens inside of you, not me. I will be here for you though, and I have confidence that if you keep trying as hard as you have been over the last few weeks that it will indeed get easier."
Ziva accepted the sentiment and nodded, although she did disagree with part of that statement.
"I think that sometimes I have not tried quite as hard as you think I have," she admitted softly.
Jenny smiled knowingly. "Oh, really?"
Ziva smiled a little. As annoying it was at some points, at other times it was really nice to know that she was known at other times - like now.
"Come on, Zi. Let's go up and get some lunch," Jenny encouraged. She did not have to repeat herself. Ziva was hungry after her long sleep and scampered up the stairs quickly.
"Set the table, Ziver," Gibbs called to her.
"Okay," she replied more cheerfully than ... ever. She set the table while Jenny worked on sandwiches to go with the soup Gibbs was heating from a can. Once the table was set Ziva amused herself with carving a cucumber to look like a knife.
"Interesting choice there, Ziver," Gibbs commented.
She smiled proudly, then chopped it into little slices. They were oddly shaped to be sure but she liked them. With a bit of ranch dressing they would be perfect.
Ten minutes later they were sitting down to a simple lunch as a family.
Sometimes simplicity was perfection.
...
Jenny stayed for the rest of the day. None of the three talked much. Jenny asked Ziva if she wanted to go on a jog but Ziva uncharacteristically declined,
"I don't want to go," she said softly. "I just want to stay here."
"That's okay," Jenny had said simply.
After dinner Jenny had finally left after giving Ziva a kiss on the cheek and an encouragement to behave herself. Ziva had helped Gibbs clear the table, put away the remaining food, and wash the dishes. When Gibbs headed downstairs Ziva did too like a faithful shadow. Gibbs hesitated on the steps, wondering if he should say something to address it, then decided to let it rest. If she wanted to stick tight for a bit it would not harm anyone and she had another counseling session in a few days. The thought of that lightened his heart. For once he had hope that she was actually going to make progress in her next session. With her being so vulnerable he was hopeful that she would carry the same openness to her next session.
Gibbs went to his work bench and found a piece of sandpaper. Silently he handed it to Ziva. She was a little hesitant, unsure of where she should work, so he went to her side and placed his hand over hers, moving it along the side of the boat smoothly a few times before letting go and allowing her to do it on her own. She continued, silent and steady. They worked that way for an hour before she got bored. She had been yawning a little, so Gibbs was not surprised when she made her way back to her little corner. She had brought a book down at some point and leaned against the wall, reading it until her head began to bob.
"Maybe you should head to bed," Gibbs suggested quietly.
"Maybe," she said, curling up a little more tightly.
He did not press her anymore. He was working on the far side of the boat and so could not see what she was doing, but the next time he circled around to find his coffee mug he found her curled up and fast asleep, content and peaceful, in her makeshift bed. A smile teased at the corners of his mouth as he took a gulp of coffee.
She trusted him. She really did.
He set aside his tools and lay down in the boat to sleep. He did not want to risk the sound of his working waking up Ziva from her peaceful slumber.
He need not have worried. Her sleep was disturbed soon enough by a nightmare.
"No, no, no, no, no," she whimpered under her breath. Gibbs quickly sat up and swung out from inside of the boat and to her side.
"Ziver," he whispered softly, not wanting to startle her awake but also not wanting to leave her through the rest of the nightmare. "Ziver, wake up, little one."
"No, no, stop!" she gasped, stiffening and beginning to kick and trash.
Gibbs moved back a step. He had been near enough soldiers waking out of nightmares to know that they were not always conscious when they did so. He did not want to risk getting hurt as he tried to help Ziva.
"No! No! Help!"
His forehead furrowed, just as Ziva's was, and he spoke softly, "I'm trying to help you, Ziva. You're not alone. I'm right here."
"Help," she repeated, then murmured something unintelligible, getting tangled in her sheets as she struggled in her sleep.
"I'm here."
"Papa?" she asked, her eyes flying wide open. Gibbs wondered if she was really awake or still asleep and he stayed still where he was, letting her initiate any movement. He did not know who she was talking about - he had only heard her mention Eli as her father or the director of Mossad or her Abba at the most emotional of moments.
"Papa!" she gasped, diving toward him. Whether or not she actually meant him was unclear in the haze of confusion that he saw in her eyes, but all that mattered was tht he knew that she needed someone to comfort her and help her feel safe in the midst of her terror. He caught her in his arms and held her tightly as she began to spasm with deep, full-body sobbing.
"It's okay, Ziver," he repeated again, hugging her to his chest. He gently patted her back, holding her firmly as she shook both of them with the intensity of her emotions. Although no tears were on her face, she was convulsing with crying. He stayed with her until the sobbing stopped. He looked down, about to ask her wha her dream was about, but realized that she was back asleep. Wondering if she had ever been awake, he carefully transferred her back into her little nest of a bed and tucked her in gently, kissing her forehead and silently wishing her sweet dreams.
It's okay, little one, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I might not be able to keep the bad dreams away, but I'll be here when you wake up, and I'll do my best to keep you from creating any new sources for nightmares. I'm here for you, Ziva. Always.
...
Thank you for reading. A few more chapters to go. :S Not sure to be happy or sad about that!
Love to you all. Please review if you have time and the inclination to do so. Make sure to stop by Loads of Randomness, Inks Inc, and quintawrites for other great stories too. :)