Disclaimer : You'll have to re-read Chapter 1 for it.
Chapter 6
"How do you forget it, Ziva?" Roxane asked, leaning against the wall, her eyes closed.
"You don't forget it…but you learn to live with it." Her friend replied.
"So many dead…so much blood…so pointless."
"Not to those that inflict the pain. To them, there is a point…and it is their belief that the pain caused will open the eyes of the rest of the world."
"To what end? I'll never understand this need to hurt others." Roxane's voice was pained. Gibbs, standing unnoticed across the hallway, could hear it. He realized that Ziva's friend was older than her appearance…perhaps not in all experiences, but there was a sound in her voice that made her age higher than his first impression.
"I'm a control-freak, Ziva. I feel a need…deep inside…to understand what is going on around me. There must be order, logic, rationality…" Gibbs smiled at this statement. She was beginning to sound like him, until Ziva interrupted.
"No, Roxane…well, okay, you're all that…but you're also a visionary. You see things that the rest of us do not. You feel compassion and tap into your ability to sense the emotions of others to determine your plan of approach. You instill others to follow you even if the final goal is unknown. You have a strong sense of what is right and what is wrong, even without knowing why."
"Miss Jamieson." Gibbs interrupted softly.
Her blue eyes snapped up to meet his and again he felt a need to take her hand. He controlled the urge, but couldn't quite get rid of the feeling.
"Thank you for coming down here. Perhaps you can tell us more about Captain Reed, what he was doing here in Washington, your relationship with him?"
"Am I suspect in his death?" She asked, genuinely curious.
Gibbs blinked, realizing that she had asked a question to which his gut had a ready answer, but no facts existed to confirm or deny.
"We just need to get to know him, Roxane. We want to catch who did this to him." Ziva said quietly, taking away the need for Gibbs to answer.
But Roxane continued to stare at him.
"Am I a suspect?" She repeated slowly.
Carefully, Gibbs weighed his answer. "I hope not."
Ziva sensed an indecision within her boss. She was torn at this need to protect them both…her mentor and her friend. It was a conflict that she was not used to experiencing.
Usually, there was one way…her way…the right way. No questions asked. No doubts. No hesitation. The agent in her screamed that she stay with Gibbs. The woman in her, though, shouted that friendship was more important.
"Perhaps," Ziva started slowly, "We just figure out where we are before we determine a side to be on? This would help all of us, yes?"
Gibbs nodded.
Roxane replied, "Ziva, as always, the voice of reason."
"I doubt Tony would agree with you on that."
"Ah, yes, Agent David," Gibbs intoned, "We need to talk about Tony and what exactly you've been telling your friend about your co-workers."
Ziva walked to the end of the corridor and pressed the button for the elevator…hard.
"Don't we have a case to solve, Gibbs?" She asked, willing the elevator doors to open.
"Fine," Gibbs replied, as the doors opened. He indicated that the ladies were to precede him. "But when this is over, we'll sit down and talk for a bit, yes?"
Roxane bit back a smile at his impersonation of Ziva.
Several minutes later, Roxane stared at the grayish-greenish-brownish walls surrounding her. Actually, she really couldn't determine the colour or their shade. Was ick a colour? Was ick a shade? She settled on simply putrid…noting that the fluorescent lighting was not doing much to help out the room's possibilities.
She sat in the straight-backed chair and stared at the man across the table from her.
"You hope I'm not a suspect, but judging by the scent in here, I believe this is an interrogation room." She delicately sniffed the air.
"Conference rooms are booked." Gibbs shrugged. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Water, please." Roxane acknowledged cooly. "But if you need a more solid DNA sample, please do not hesitate to ask."
Gibbs winced at the tone. Okay, he deserved that. But the rooms were really booked.
Ziva entered the room with a bottle of water and chair for herself.
"Listening in, Ziva?" Roxane asked, tilting her head towards the mirror.
The brunette simply nodded. She knew her friend was ruffled at being in this room. If the roles were reversed, she knew that she would be. Granted, her Mossad training would also have had her interrogator up against the wall by now, gasping for breath.
"Please start at the beginning, Miss Jamieson." Gibbs requested. "It is Miss, right?"