Interlude

Chapter 13

A/N: This is sort of a filler chapter, but one that can explain the shift in attitudes between Ziva and Gibbs and Dinozzo. A little reconnection and bonding. Tiva and Gibbs father/daughter bonding. Thanks for reading. Reviews would be nice. Good or ill.

Nerve wracking as it was with Gibbs staring her down, a sense of euphoria enveloped her when he took his pen and finally signed his name on the line, giving her his permission to be a Probationary NCIS Officer...no...Agent.

Taking that as a good sign along with the fact that Gibbs had brought her coffee a while ago, she screwed up her courage to ask a favor, not as her boss, but as her friend. She was so tired of waking in the middle of the night alone and frightened, haunted with nightmares, and finding out about the bombing the other night just made her feel that much more alone. "Gibbs, could I...I mean I enjoy my suite at the Navy Lodge, but, could I please stay at your place tonight? I understand if-"

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Ziva. Director Vance hasn't approved your papers just yet." Gibbs countered, eying her closely. She looked like she hadn't slept much and something was bothering her in the worst way. She had been upset all day and tried to hide it. He knew what Ducky told him and DiNozzo and guessed that that was part of it, but what else, he was at a loss. It could be anything with everything she'd been through.

Ziva's eyes showed the disappointment she felt inside. "Oh...I'm...I'm sorry to have asked," she said, softly. She turned to go.

"Ziver, I only said I wasn't sure if it was a good idea. I didn't say no," Gibbs said. It broke his heart to watch her shoulders collapse and her head hang down the way it did. "So if ya wanna use my guest room, it's all yours. I have some hamburger meat in the fridge and an ear if you want to talk."

Ziva turned and smiled at him. It was the first real smile he'd seen from her since before Rivkin. It was wonderful for him to see and he found himself smiling back.

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Gibbs heard the knock on his front door. Only Ziva or Abby would ever knock. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and answered the door.

"Hello, Gibbs," Ziva said.

"Come on in," Gibbs replied. "You know I don't stand on ceremony, Ziver. Make yourself at home and I'll start on those burgers."

Ziva dropped her overnight bag by the door and slung the reuseable grocery bag over the same shoulder. "If you do not mind, Gibbs, since you were so kind as to allow me to stay here, I would like to make the dinner. I stopped off at the market and bought a couple of things. May I?"

Away from NCIS, he always found that he could never deny her anything. "If you want to, 'though, I make one mean burger."

She smiled that genuine smile again and his heart took a leap. She really was coming back to them all. She really was healing; his heart's daughter. "So do I, since coming to America. I have learned a thing or three." There was a friendly air of challenge in her voice.

Gibbs took up the challenge. "Yeah, David? You make the burgers tonight and I'll make 'em tomorrow night and we'll see who makes the best burger."

"You are on, Gibbs. I believe the kitchen is mine tonight," Ziva said, playfully pushing past him and moving off to the kitchen.

Gibbs found himself smiling at her retreating form, her old, confident gait back...almost. She was sporting a slight limp, favoring her left leg. He was a trained investigator and would have noticed that by now. He followed her into his kitchen. "Need any help?"

"I have the job in my hand, Gibbs. I think that I can find everything I need."

He regarded her for a while before speaking. "You're limpin'."

She stilled. "You noticed. Of course you noticed. To get me to talk, Saleem fractured my left hip. I was tended to, for once, but it is not healing well. There is nothing I can do. It will hurt when it rains. I am still crime scene worthy, Gibbs. I will work hard and-"

"All I care about is that you heal the best you can. The weather is already fall damp and D.C. is built on a swamp. My knee is killing me, too, so, I know. You can be in the field and collect evidence. It just sucks on damp days. I know if you need to chase down a running dirtbag, you'll do it and take the grunt candy after," Gibbs said, giving a little bit of his life over to her. Trust was a two way street. He understood, he really did and made a mental note to gift her with a family sized bottle of Ibuprophen-or Grunt Candy- as it was called.

"Yeah," she said, softly, grateful for his understanding, then went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer and popped it open. She handed it to Gibbs. "Go and relax and dinner will be ready soon."

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Gibbs relaxed on his couch after, what he considered, a damn fine meal. Ziva had brought her culinary A game with a bacon provolone mushroom burger with the best homemade french fries he had ever eaten that just nearly blew him away. He would be hard pressed to impress her tomorrow night. In the months that they all thought her dead, Gibbs willed himself to forget about all the things that endeared her to him. He tried to distance himself from the pain of loss. Now that they found her and brought her home, he found himself flooded with fond memories and he was glad for them. He was glad that he had come to love her like the daughter he should have had. He loved her nearly as much as he would have Kelly. As he calculated, she was just a few years older than his Kelly would have been.

"Ziver, that was one mean burger. The fries weren't bad, either," he praised her in his understated way.

She blushed, knowing it to be high praise and that she just about made him filet minon, taking a sip of her beer. "Thank you." She hesitated and then blurted out, "It was turkey bacon. I may not keep Kosher, but I still cannot bring myself to eat pork. Sorry, Gibbs."

"Nothin' to apologize for," he said. "I never say what I don't mean and you know that, Ziver. It was a damn fine burger. I liked the turkey bacon. Wasn't greasy and added extra flavor. I'm gonna have to work hard tomorrow night to try to impress you."

She laughed, looking down, unused to praise after so many months of being degraded, dehumanized. Ziva found herself smiling, even giving a small chuckle. "Toda. Thank you. I am glad you liked it. It has been the first time I have cooked since..."

"I know," Gibbs said, quietly. "Grab your beer. You're helpin' me with my boat. Price for staying here." He got up and started for the basement. It didn't matter who came to him, the basement and working on the boat always seemed like magical healing. Maybe it would help his dear, sweet, beloved, troubled Ziva, too. Something was clearly bothering her and it did not involve him and DiNozzo and their behavior toward her. He made it a note to himself to make certain DiNozzo was invited for dinner tomorrow night. He may make the burgers, but David was going to make a repeat performance with those unbelievable fries and they all were going to hash it out and heal, most likely over the boat and some bourbon. Abby said there was magic in his basement. He hoped she was right.

Ziva followed him. Wood working wasn't something she was experienced in, but she could learn. She remembered that last Hannukah, Gibbs had given her a beautifully, intricately carved Star of David ornament. That he took the time and care to make it for her, this unbelievable three dimensional carved piece of beauty touched her more than anything she could remember, other than her Bat Mitzvah Star of David necklace her father had given her in his love and pride when she read flawlessly from the Torah. When she marveled over the exquisite ornament and asked him where he got it, he just shrugged and said, "Made it for ya".

"Gibbs, I do not know any woodworking," she said as she came to stand at the bottom of the stairs, uncertain as what to do. The basement smelled like Gibbs. A little sweat and lots of wood and a little bourbon. It was pleasant and comforting. Ziva began to relax further, despite the confrontation they had just had recently. That was obviously history. He had begun a beautiful new boat.

He aimed a slight smile at her and opened his arms, a sanding pad in one. "Good. I can teach you. Come here."

She settled in between his arms and he placed a block of sandpaper in her hands. He placed his hands over hers and guided them. "See the up and down grain inside the wood? With the grain and never against, Ziva. Always with the grain. With the grain is the strongest." He instructed, guiding her hands. He stopped and watched her for a while. "Good job. Now keep going."

She did and soon was enjoying it all. It really was soothing and she did not wonder any longer why Gibbs built boats, though, for the life of her, she had no idea how he got them out of the basement. She'd seen only one of his, completed, and it was a thing of beauty.

Gibbs watched her out of the corner of his eye as she worked. He watched her slowly relax and then, finally, a small smile graced her lips. The magic of woodworking was having it's effect on his most damaged and troubled of his team, his "family". It was good to see her smile again. "Ducky laid into me for how rudely I treated you the other day. He was in the bull pen and saw me just blow past you. My mind was honestly on the case and I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, if I did hurt 'em. Ducky was pretty convinced that I did."

Ziva kept sanding, wondering if her conversation with Ducky had made it into him calling Gibbs out on the way he had treated her. No, Ducky said he'd never tell. But, she did need to be honest with him. "I was hurt, a little. I had thought everything was better between us and then you seemed to just dismiss me as if I did not matter. I should have-"

"No, Ziver, I forgot that you're still feelin' your way back in and I didn't help," Gibbs said, cutting her off. "I didn't have my head on straight where you're concerned, and I should have."

Ziva sighed and graced him with a small smile. "Thank you, Gibbs."

Gibbs watched her a while longer. "I know my behavior toward you yesterday and part of today isn't the only thing bugging you today. There has to be a reason you wanted to stay here tonight. Talk."

Ziva stopped sanding and stood very still. "The bombing in Golan Heights yesterday. I have many friends there. I have-had my apartment there. I cannot call Eli for information after the email I sent. I just want to know if everyone is alright. I cut my ties with Mossad with such great timing, did I not? I can only get the information that you can on ZNN. So I know nothing of them." A lone tear rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away. Her chin trembled and she willed herself not to cry. "I am just worried, Gibbs. By now Eli will have ordered those I worked with in Mossad to cease contact with me and to report to him if I tried to contact them. Most of my close family is long dead and Eli will tell me nothing and I know it. I am so scared for them. I know what it is like. I lived my whole life in Israel. I lost my mother and my little sister to terrorists." She was quiet for a short while, willing back tears and only being partly successful. A few tears were squeezed from her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper. "So this is what it is like to be in exile."

Gibbs couldn't stand seeing her like this. He knew what it was like to worry over those you loved and be unable to get any information on them. He walked to her and gently took her by her upper arms and held her gently. "When we go in in the morning, I'll get you that intel. I'll make it sound like we had people in the area and they'll need to release a list of names. If they don't want to start a pissing match between our countries, one that is their friend, they'll give me the names. If they don't give them to me, they sure as hell are gonna give them to Leon. Does that help?"

Ziva nodded, unsure of her voice. Gibbs pulled her into a tight hug and felt her tremble. "It's gonna be fine, Ziver. I promise." He felt her put her arms around him and hug him with a strength almost normal for her. He had forgotten how strong she was. "Can't breathe."

Ziva began to laugh and let go of him. It was just enough for her to let go of her tears. "Thank you, Gibbs. Sorry I squeezed so tight."

"Just means you're gettin' better." Gibbs went over to his workbench and cleared out a mason jar and grabbed his coffee cup. He took out his usual bottle of bourbon and poured a couple of fingers in each. Being the gentleman, he held out the coffee cup to Ziva. She took it, even though she had not yet finished her beer. "To new beginnings," Gibbs toasted and sipped back a good swallow.

Ziva raised the coffee cup and said, "To new beginnings." She proceeded to drain the cup in a long swallow.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "That's impressive, Ziver. I can't even do that."

"Mossad training. It comes with a price." She held her stomach with one hand. "Burns like hell when you do that."

He allowed himself a small smile. "Refill?"

"Please."

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Gibbs, breezed back into the bull pen after almost an hour with Director Vance in MTAC. He casually tossed a sheet of paper on Ziva's desk. "There ya go. Names. You let me know if you know anyone."

Ziva smiled up at him and nodded. "Thank you, Gibbs." She started scanning the names.

Tony looked up from his keyboard. What just went on between Gibbs and Ziva? "Boss?"

"Terrorist bombing in Golan Heights, DiNozzo. She needs names," Gibbs said simply, letting his senior field agent figure out the rest for himself.

"Oh, God," Tony breathed, understanding immediately why she'd need names...wounded and dead. He watched her closely as she read the list of names. Her chin began to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. "Boss..."

Gibbs didn't need DiNozzo's warning to see that Ziva knew someone, possibly several someones. He rose, but Tony rose faster and went over to her desk. "Ziva, mens' room or conference room?"

She shook her head and fought the tears. "I am fine."

"Bullshit. Come with me," he said and pulled her to her feet. She didn't even put up a physical protest as he tugged her to the elevator. They got on and he hit the stop button. "The names; who do you know?"

She shook her head, unwilling to involve him in her pain. "No."

He gently grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Who do you know? Ziva, I can't be here for you if you don't talk to me. Who did you lose?"

Her chin trembled further and she wiped furiously at her eyes. It was useless to try to tough it out. She would have cracked and cried at work even if she hadn't been held in a terrorist prison camp. "Avi and Rivka Rubenstein and their daughter, Sarai. Sarai was only seven."

Tony's own eyes teared as he wrapped his arms around Ziva. "I am so sorry about your friends. I'm so sorry."

She could only nod as her legs gave out and she and Tony slid to the floor. The grief was overwhelming. Avi and Rivka were almost lifelong friends and she had been in the delivery room when little Sarai was born. She spoke at the baby naming ceremony as one of the adults promising to help her grow up to be a good person. Sarai's middle name was Ziva. She snorted in derision at that promise now. At the time she was still a Mossad assassin; an assassin. How was that going to help Sarai to grow up to be a good person? What did it matter now, anyway? They were all gone. How much more could she possibly lose? Ziva buried herself in Tony's embrace and wept inconsolably as he gently rocked her, murmuring soothing sounds into her hair.

Finally, after quite a long while, Ziva's tears subsided and she just remained in Tony's arms, gathering herself together. When she felt she could speak, she looked up into Tony's very concerned face. "I do not think the words 'thank you' are sufficient for what you just did for me. All of it."

Tony gave her a slight hug. "Don't worry about it. Partners do things for each other. I would do it in a heartbeat if you ever need it again. All of it." He looked at her tear-stained face and puffy eyes. "I'd suggest that you stop in the Ladies' and splash a little water on your face before you come back into the bullpen. Or should I tell Gibbs that you need to go? It's understandable with the list and all."

"Thank you, Tony, but I will stay. I do not wish to be alone right now. I would dwell too much..." Ziva said as the elevator doors opened. "Tell Gibbs...tell Gibbs that I will be right there."

Tony nodded and went directly to the bullpen.

"How is she, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

Tony looked over at his boss. "Bad. A family of three and from her reaction, they were very close. She's devistated. She's washing her face right now in the Ladies'. I don't know how many more hits she's going to be able to take,..."

He knew. He had seen it in her eyes that very morning before he gave her that list. "Uh-huh. She's been through too much as it is. She want to take the day?" Gibbs asked, worried over her.

Tony shook his head. "No, she said that she wanted to stay, Boss."

"Probably for the best," Gibbs said as he watched Ziva re-enter the bullpen. Her eyes were still very red and the color on her cheeks was blotchy, but she was putting a brave face on it. Staying in a safe environment with those that loved her was better than being alone in a hotel room. He got up and walked over to her desk. Gibbs leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I am so sorry for your loss. Anything you need, just ask. You don't have to be here today. Go back to my place and get the burgers ready for tonight. I get to impress you, remember?" He placed a soft kiss to her temple.

Her eyes welled again at his understanding and tenderness, but she controlled it. "I can stay. I can do this. Let me stay."

He gave her a measured look. "Okay, you stay, but if you even have the slightest doubt, you go to my place and you work on that boat until I get home. No bourbon, either. I don't want my boat screwed up. You go sand. And you prep the burgers you, me and DiNozzo are going to eat tonight. And you cut those fries of yours. Don't you dwell on the Ugly. You leave that to me." Seeing that she was about to cry again, he pulled her into a hug. "Don't you dare cry on me at work. You are a prospective Probationary Special Agent and Special Agents don't cry at work. You can let it out tonight and I can forgive sadness at work." He felt her shake and give in and he just rocked her, speaking softly. "Okay, this is sadness at work. It's going to be okay. You get to be sad now." He held her closer, kissing her head. "You got terrible news. You get to be sad now. You get to be sad now." He held her as she broke down again. He held her and rocked her in her grief. It was too profound.

No one understood how lifelong close she was with the Rubensteins. She knew Avi and Rivka from the first grade. Lifelong, and the pain was unbelievable, worse since Sarai. She was supposed to guide her to be a good person. "I can't, Gibbs. My whole life...I knew them almost my whole life. Childhood friends...my friends. I was right there when Sarai was born...in the Delivery room, holding Rivka's hand the whole time. Sarai. I was Sarai's Godmother... I love them all. Oh God, I can't, I can't."

Gibbs' heart broke. He truly sort of understood Ziva's grief. It was far more profound than he guessed. But he tried. "DiNozzo, take her to my place and set her to work on the boat and stay with her. Let her talk it out. Get more bourbon if that's what's needed to loosen her tongue. Get her to talk. Use

the bourbon. She's hurtin' bad. She lost loved ones today and is afraid to talk about it. Get her to talk. She needs Ducky. She needs Ducky. I do not know what to do for her. She needs Ducky... Do what you can. She's in so much pain. Help her."

Tony scooped up a devistated Ziva and brought her to Autopsy, inconsolable weeping self to Ducky. "Bad news and she's having a very hard time." Tony supplied. "Very grief - striken. From what I understand, they were tight since being little kids..losing them now, I can't fathom. They are and from the reports, ...gone and horribly. From what she said, known them since little kids. Little kids. She needs time. Ducky, you gotta help her... After you, Gibbs wants me to take her to his place and get her to work on the boat."

Ducky understood immediately and enveloped Ziva in an all encompassing hug. "My dear girl, My dear, dear girl..."

"They are gone and I can not even attend... I cannot be there to grieve. Oh God, Sarai was only a child She was an innocent in all of this! She bore my name. Ziva is her middle name .She was only seven and innocent in what her parents and I did. She was innocent. How can I live with this?" Ziva dissolved into more tears in Ducky's arms.

"Oh my, dear, dear girl," he whispered to her. He waved Palmer off to make tea and to get those lovely finger sandwiches out of the refrigerator that Ducky made every morning, always anticipating someone needing solace. He'd be a fool thinking that everyone would be fine all the time. Today, as it has been since she was brought home from Somalia, Ziva. "We will have some nice tea and cucumber sandwiches that you love and then we are going to Jethro's place to rest."

"I don't deserve rest. I've hurt so many. I have killed so many."

Ducky stroked her hair and kissed her head. "Of course you deserve rest and solace. That pain is over. You're home now. You did what you were ordered to. Orders, not your will. You are not guilty. Rest. Just rest, my dear, hurt Ziva. My dear granddaughter.. Rest, Sweetheart."

"But Sarai, poor Sarai?...So young? My Goddaughter!"

Ducky hugged her tight. "She knew you were her loving Godmother, right?"

"Yes."

"Then she knew that she was loved." He said, simply. "She was so loved. I know you, Ziva, better than you know yourself, sometimes. You need to step back and grieve. Let Jethro, Tony and Tim be there for you. They want to be. Let yourself grieve in front of them. They won't run in horror or rejection. They'll hold you up while you grieve and they will understand as you heal. Trust them, Ziva.,You won't be disappointed."

She nodded as she buried herself deeper into Ducky's embrace. "That's my girl...that's my girl. Bury yourself. You'll come out stronger, you'll see."

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Several cups of tea and a few cucumber sandwiches later, Ducky declared Ziva ready to transport, but not home..home was still not clear, but to Gibbs place to rest. Ziva found herself in the basement, sanding the spines of the new boat. It soothed her. She sipped the Irish Breakfast tea that Ducky gave her. That was soothing, too. She didn't hear Gibbs come home until he dropped his "go bag" on the living room floor. Her head shot up and then she heard his familiar stride across the floor ad relaxed. There was a measured clumping down the stairs. "Hello, Gibbs."

"Hey, Ziver. You prep those burgers like I said?"

"I did."

Gibbs gave a half smile at her. "Good because DiNozzo is coming over and you know how he can be."

Ziva glanced up at him. "Culinarily, a lot like you. You refuse to eat crap food. You prefer the good stuff and dislike fast food. You don't even like several of the pizzarias near the Navy yard because they carry "crap on a crust", she said. "and you know that Tony is a decent cook. You have a very global palate, though you choose to not advertize it. You had to because you did covert ops in Europe with Jenny. You had to blend in. Why do you think I'm not observant Jewish and do not keep Kosher? Blending in. It is the spy game and I had to, no matter how much my faith screamed in my mind to not do it. I am free to do this here and I still relax it only partly. How many fries do you wish me to make while you impress me with the burgers?"

Gibbs smiled at her, understanding. "How many potatoes do you have left after making the tower you did yesterday?"

"You need to go to the grocery store."