I know that I am probably "spoiling" you all with this story, but it is because I have been busy and am behind on my "Echoes" and "The Finding of Cable" chapters. This was pre-writen so I figured it wouldn't hurt to do two chapters so close together, right? Besides ... (guilty smile) I can't wait to find out what you think of little Ziva's perspective! I am slightly obsessed with her at the moment!

Thanks to fiftyshadeswritergal and KrisShannon for pre-reading. Also, thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter - Troubled-Angel-26, Roie442, his-red-head, Loads of Randomness, SM, DS2010, Hawk, AnnieQuill, S, Fashionista-girl, Suzy Q1068, C13, Fan, and Happy Guest.

Enjoy!

...

Jenny had a busy morning, filling out paper work, meeting with agents, and touring the building. She did as much of her work as possible in her office, where Ziva sat on the floor, hiding under the desk with a blue toy car, four crayons, a half-eaten granola bar, and a colouring book that she was diligently filling with artistic scribbles.

"Do you want to come play out here on a blanket?" Jenny asked, peeking down at the little girl. Ziva popped her pinky into her mouth - that way she was better able to grip onto her red crayon without risk of anyone pulling it away from her - and shook her head. She was determined that she was not coming out of her little cave until she absolutely needed to, or until all those strangers left her and Mama alone. She did not like the deep voices and strange shoes that she could see walk past. It was a little scary, but under the desk she was fairly certain that she was safe. She needed to protect Mama, so she would stay down here and pretend that she was a tiger and growl quietly whenever someone new arrived. If any really bad guys came then she would go out and kill them like Abba had always talked about doing to bad guys called "terrorists". Maybe she could "kill" the people in the room using the remainder of her granola bar. For now, she would colour the butterfly on her page. A green scribble right across the middle would do the trick.

However, Ziva did want her sippy cup that she had helped Mama fill earlier. Mama had not done a good job and she spilled water everywhere while Ziva screamed that she wanted to do it all by herself. Ziva was certain that she would have done much better alone. But she was thirsty, so even though her independence had been severely threatened by the "help" in filling it, she still wanted that cup. When she heard the latest strange voice leave, she popped out from under the desk and ran toward her diaper bag. She stumbled and fell on her tummy on the floor. Silly sneakers Mama wanted her to wear! They always made Ziva trip. She liked going barefoot much better but Mama would not let her do that away from home. It was a worth testing though. Ziva pushed herself up so she was sitting and began to pull at the sparkly shoes.

"No, Zizi," Jenny said, catching on to what she was doing. "Your shoes need to stay on your feet."

Ziva immediately pushed her bottom lip out in a big pout, but Jenny just smiled, shook her head, and turned back to her work. Ziva was annoyed. She wanted to be the focus on her mommy's life. Why were those papers so interesting anyway? Mama did not even want to share Ziva's crayons and there were no pretty colours on the paper! Ziva continued to pout, but Mama continued to ignore her.

Ziva decided to try again. She grabbed the velcro strap on her shoe and tugged. It made a ripping sound and Mama heard. She looked at Ziva and frowned.

"Ziva, I said no," she repeated firmly, getting up and walking over. She crouched down in front of Ziva, pressed the strap closed on the shoe, and looked her in the eye. "Keep your shoes on or you will be in time out."

Ziva's eyes grew big. She did NOT like time out AT ALL!

"Did you want something from your bag?" Jenny asked, diverting the conversation.

Ziva began sucking her finger again nervously, but nodded a little.

"Do you want another toy?"

Ziva peeked inside of her bag and looked at the stuffed animal and two other cars. They might be fun later, but they were not what she wanted. She shook her head.

"Do you want your blanket so you can lie down?"

"Lie down" was another way of saying "nap".

"No!" she whimpered around her finger. "No nap!"

Mama shuffled through the rest of the contents of the bag. "Do you want your book? Oh, look! It has a duck on the front. You like ducks. What sound do ducks make?"

Mama was very bad at finding the sippy cup!

"Noooo!" Ziva wailed, impatience overcoming her.

"Then what do you want, baby?"

"Tiwsty!"

"Thirsty?"

Ziva nodded, still upset that Mama had not understood her before now. At least there was hope now that Mama would catch up and give her the sippy cup. Mama gave her a consoling kiss on the cheek and stood.

"So you are thirsty. Let Mama find your cup. At lunch we'll get you some juice. Will that make it all better, sweetie?"

Ziva smiled. She liked juice. It was very yummy. And right now, Mama was looking around for the cup. Everything was okay in the two-year-old's world. She scrambled to her feet once again and toddled after her mommy.

That was, until Mama found the cup and brought it back. Ziva scowled and turned her face away. She put her hands next to her face and refused to take it.

"Now what's wrong?" Jenny asked. Her voice was not happy anymore. Adults would have called it "exasperated", but Ziva just thought that it sounded upset. That was a cue for her to be upset too.

"No!"

She wanted to yell in Hebrew, but that only ever made Mama upset. Mama did not like screaming as much as Ziva did, nor did she understand Hebrew - at least not a toddler's Hebrew. She had been able to understand Ima, but Ziva was still learning to speak correctly. And Ziva was still learning English as well. It was upsetting that she could not talk so Mama would understand.

Besides, why could Mama not see the problem herself? It was very obvious!

There was a yellow lid on the sippy cup instead of the pink one. The yellow lid was supposed to go on the purple cup. This was the blue cup and she needed the pink lid.

"Wong!" Ziva cried, pushing the cup out of Mama's hands onto the ground.

"Ziva!"

"Wong!" Ziva repeated, plopping onto the ground in a tantrum.

"What is wrong? You wanted your cup. Here it is. Now have a drink." Mama picked up the cup and held it back out to Ziva. Ziva scowled and tried to throw it on the ground again. This time, though, Mama had a firm grip and refused to let the cup fall.

Talking to Mama was getting them nowhere. It was time to try screaming after all. Ziva fell face first onto the ground and sobbed loudly and dramatically, adding a few kicks for good measure. Hopefully this would get Mama to change the lid.

Unfortunately, the tantrum did not work. She felt Mama lift her up, and despite a few extra loud squeals, she found herself placed on a blanket spread out on the floor in a corner of the room. There were no toys on the blanket, so that could only mean one thing.

Ziva was in time out!

"You stay here until you calm down," Mama told her, setting her down. Ziva flopped onto her back and continued to sob. She was angry. It was not her fault that the cup had been ruined! That was all Mama's fault! But Ziva was the one in time out. She was still learning what it meant, but she felt all the indignation of life being "not fair".

"Ma'am, you ... never mind," a new lady, introduced earlier as Miss Cynthia, said. Her arrival in the room startled Ziva who was in the middle of one mighty yell that she cut off once she spotted the stranger. She quickly crawled off of the blanket and over to the safety that being near Mama offered.

"Are you done screaming and having a tantrum?" Mama asked sternly. Ziva slowly nodded, blinking away the fat tears that were obscuring her vision.

"Can you say sorry for screaming?"

"Sowwy," Ziva sniffled obediently, lifting her chubby arms as the tears tickled her cheeks and nose as they ran down her cheeks.

"Okay, then. You can play now instead of being in time out." Ziva kept her arms up - she wanted cuddles, not playtime. Mama seemed to understand and she scooped Ziva into her arms and held her as she turned her attention back to Miss Cynthia. "What were you saying, Cynthia?"

"Agent Gibbs is here with some coffee for you. He tried to barge in, but I was able to stop him. Hopefully he will be able to learn the proper office etiquette quickly. I despise when people ignore the correct procedures," Miss Cynthia ranted. Mama, who looked surprisingly tired to Ziva's wondering eyes, just sighed.

"Oh, let him in! I could use some coffee about now."

Mr. Gibbs came into the room. Ziva scowled as she felt Mama move to stand when he entered the room. She wanted to stay on Mama's lap and cuddle but this man kept interrupting their time together. Bad man!

"Hello, Jethro," Mama said. She began chattering with him. Ziva sulkily slipped off of Mama's lap. She growled a little bit, practicing her unhappy tiger sounds. Mr. Gibbs chuckled and said that she was cute. That was offensive. She was not cute! She was supposed to be scary! Ziva slunk into her tiny cave under the desk, out of sight from the amused looks of Mama and Mr. Gibbs. They thought that they could laugh about how cute she was? Well, she was not going to let them see her. They could not call her cute if she was hiding.

But that did not mean that Ziva was not going to spy on them. She peeked up and could see Mama drinking her coffee. That made Ziva remember that she was thirsty, and she still had not had her cup fixed.

"Mama! Tiwsty!" she reminded with a quiet whine.

"Here's your cup," Mama said, handing Ziva the sippy cup. Ziva reached out and took the cup. Close examination revealed that the top was still yellow, but another look at Mama showed that she was distracted with Mr. Gibbs. She was not going to fix the cup. Ziva grabbed the lid and tried to take it off but her tiny fingers were not strong enough. She huffed in frustration, then looked up at Mama hopefully. Still distracted. Ziva reluctantly lifted the cup and began noisily sipping. The water still tasted the same. At least she would survive until silly Mama put the pink lid on the cup.

Being a toddler, facing the world of mismatched sippy cups and competitive strangers, was exhausting. Her head began to droop slowly until it was pillowed against the colouring book. She never heard Mr. Gibbs say "good bye" - she was fast asleep.

...

Ziva woke up after forty-five minutes with renewed energy. She retrieved the extra cars and took turns pushing each car, seeing how far they would fly across the floor. She bumped them together. After awhile she started crashing them together and threw one in the air.

"It 'sploded!" she told Mama. She had seen a car bomb before. That was why Ima and Tali were gone. Ziva did not like car bombs, but she did like being noisy and throwing a toy in the air was more amusing that watching Mama scribbling on adult papers.

Mama told her that toy cars were not for throwing or exploding and told her that it was time for lunch. She took the cars from Ziva and put them in a drawer in her desk, then grabbed the diaper bag and sippy cup and took Ziva's hand. Ziva danced next to her all the way down all the stairs. She could see Mr. Gibbs working with all the strangers from earlier that morning. She was delighted when Mama ignored him - or maybe he was working hard and did not notice her - and scooped Ziva up while they went on the elevator. Off to lunch they went!

Ziva enjoyed the chicken sandwich and cucumbers that she ate at the cafe with a butterfly painting on the wall. She got her grape juice in a big cup with a straw. Due to Ziva's enthusiasm, before Mama could transfer the juice into the sippy cup, the "big girl" cup magicallyy spilled and stained the sleeve of her top. Ziva did not care. The purple dot was pretty, even though Mama fussed about it.

"Do you want to go to the park before we go back to the office, Zizi?" Mama asked. What a silly question! Of course they needed to go to the park! Ziva shrieked and tumbled and climbed every structure in the area. It was fun, but eventually her eyelids began to get heavy. She rubbed them, but it did not make her feel better. She slowly began circling closer and closer to Mama until she finally took her hand and mumbled, "Bankie."

"Your blankie is in the office. We'll go back now," Mama assured her. Ziva trotted wearily beside her for most of the way, but by the time they reached the office again Ziva was curled up in Mama's arms, half asleep. Once her blanket was wrapped around her, she was completely in dreamworld.

...

I hope that you enjoyed! Please remember to review (they always make me smile and I can always use a smile when I am working on heavy school loads!)