Chapter Five
McGee listened intently as Ziva explained her relationships with her family – how her mother had died when she was young, how her father had wanted her and Ari to protect themselves, and how, no matter how well-trained she and her brother were, how they were the best Mossad had, it still couldn't keep her sister from being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Tali was killed the same way Michael was," Ziva said, her fingers toying with McGee's and her head resting on his shoulder. "It is why I learned how to disarm bombs, why I did not argue with my father about being in Mossad. I wanted to prevent other families from the pain and grief I experienced. No one should have to bury a younger sibling, or a child." Her voice dropped. "My father has had to bury three children now. I am all he has left."
McGee's grip on her instinctively tightened. He felt even more of a push to keep her safe now. He knew she was more than capable of protecting herself, even more capable than he was, but sometimes that didn't matter. Sometimes people just needed someone to listen to them, to hold them, to love them.
And McGee was determined to do all of those with Ziva.
He allowed his hand to absently rub her arm. A sudden question came to mind, almost out of nowhere, and he found himself asking it before he could stop himself. "Do you want to have children, Ziva?"
She tensed, then relaxed, turning slightly to look at him. "Why do you ask?" she finally asked in return.
There was no embarrassment or pretense in his response. He smiled. "I don't want you to miss out on your chance."
She smiled slightly in return, squeezing his hand. "To answer your question . . . I do not have a simple answer. I had never really thought much about it until the past few years." She took a deep breath and let it out again. "I know I must act relatively soon if I want children at any point, but right now . . ."
"You're not ready," McGee said softly. He pulled her closer to him. "I know that feeling."
She gave him a surprised look. "You want to have children?"
"Well, yeah." He smiled as Ziva turned slightly on her side to watch him as he spoke. "I always wanted to share a positive family experience with a child. I think every child deserves that."
Ziva wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. "I completely agree, McGee." She let out a sigh into his shirt. "This does not seem right, talking about bringing new life into the world when Michael's life has just ended."
He squeezed her and rubbed a hand on her arm. "I'm sure he would want you to continue living, Ziva. Did he . . . did Michael have children?"
She didn't answer right away, and McGee soon felt a dampness seeping through the fabric of his shirt. He looked down with sadness in his eyes. "Oh, Ziva . . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't have . . ."
She shook her head, lifting it from his chest and looking him in the eye. She wiped at her face. "No, it is alright. I had . . . Michael had two children. And his wife . . ."
"Oh, Ziva, I really am sorry," McGee breathed.
She shook her head again, eyes closed. "I was not finished." She paused, let out a deep breath, and continued. "One of the main reasons we had rekindled was because of his wife. She . . . died two years ago, in a car accident." She finished speaking, remaining silent to allow the words to soak in.
McGee let what she said dial through his mind, then looked at her with sad eyes. "They're orphans now."
Ziva nodded quickly, wiping at her face again. "Yes."
Silence fell shortly again, then McGee asked something Ziva was wondering herself. "What's going to happen to them?"
Ziva let out a sigh. "I do not know. They are not old enough to take care of themselves . . . Sari is only 3, and her brother, Micah, is only 6. They do have a nanny, as Michael was a very busy man, and I would imagine she will take care of them for the time being." She fell silent, and McGee narrowed his eyes at her.
"But . . .?" he urged. She gave him a look that suggested confusion, but he saw right through it. "There's something you're not telling me, Ziva."
She suddenly stood. "I should not have come here. If I would have realized . . ."
"What, Ziva?" McGee was now on his feet, as well, his hands on Ziva's arms, looking into her face in an attempt to understand why she was suddenly shying away from him. "You had no idea your brother was . . . You didn't hear about it until you came here." He let out a frustrated breath. "Ziva, I just want you to get this notion that you shouldn't have come here out of your head. I don't mean to be so adamant about it, but I'm running out of options here." He gave a laugh of disbelief. "I just want to help you, but I can't when you keep running away."
Ziva had silent tears running down her face again. Her face was calm and quiet when she spoke. "I know you mean well, and care about me, which only makes this harder."
"Ziva . . ." McGee breathed, not sure what she was about to say, but having a feeling it wasn't going to be good.
The tears continued to fall as Ziva spoke. "Michael once told me if anything happened to him, he wanted me to take his children as my own." She paused to let those words sink in and then finished. "I may very well have to return to Israel . . . permanently."
