Anyway, a happy, fluffy, chapter now. Need a break from the sad Gibbs and tony stories.
Ziva David twirled a pencil in her fingers, bored and desperate for some action. Who knew, that she, the famed assassin could be subdued by boredom? Perhaps boredom could be used as an interrogation technique. Let them twiddle their thumbs enough that the bibles in jail cells would seem as though they really were sent from heaven.
Tony had given up and gone upstairs to ogle the women of human resources, Gibbs had gone to a tutorial meeting being held by the Cyber Crime unit on NCIS's new network, and McGee had gone to 'chill' with Abby in her lab. Ziva would never understand what the appeal of deliberately making yourself cold, but then again, 'chilling' did not seem to make McGee cold at all. What flowed through his veins, Ziva thought, must really be as Abby described it. Supernatural.
She examined the pen in her hand, imagining what sort of tasks it could be used for, other than writing. There must be at least a couple, other wise it would not have been invented. In her mind, it became everything from a syringe to a screwdriver, an new variation of a cell phone, a data stick, and finally, an object that made her grin.
A dart.
Ari had been hurling them clumsily at a colorful cork board decorated with balloons for the last hour or so, muttering swears while wishing he had a gun.
She sat cross legged on the pavement, refusing to look up at the carnival booth. Perhaps she would have, if it had only been Ari, not also her father, who worked for some big agency called Mossad, and was shouting at the brother to 'hit a damn balloon! They're still targets, boy! Are you blind, or have you never gotten what I tried to teach you through your think head?'
She grins, imagining what would happen if her mother was here. Then again, would her father lose his job if he was humiliated by being dragged home by his wife? She tells this to Tali, who is sitting beside her, drawing a lion in imaginary chalk.
It was all Tali's fault to begin with. They had been walking through the carnival, stuffing their mouths with wisps of cotton candy, when she had seen the enormous stuffed lion offered as top prize for the balloon game. Nobody could refuse Tali, and so began the men's quest. For once, she was grateful she went to school well out of Israel. This could be blackmail material.
She wonders how much money Papa must have as the sky is painted with black and the wind grows cold. The two have gained quite a following. A group of boys have bet on how many more times Ari will miss before the first star appears and what is more possible, for him to win, or for Papa's head to blow off. It does not surprise her the latter is winning.
Finally, Ziva decides she must put an end to this. She grabs Tali's hand and brings her up to the booth. She grabs a dart from Ari and prepares to throw. How hard can this be, after all? She just had to hit the red balloon, then they could all go home. She aims carefully, with that tiger's stalking eye.
She misses.
The dart never even came close to the cork board. It wobbled in the air, before sinking to the concrete. Ari laughed and shook his head in a mocking mask of disappointment. She does not let this shake her, There are still three darts left.
She takes another and contemplates the shot. 'You people think this is difficult?' ,Tali asked, bewildered at the possibility. 'Ziva, here, I will take a shot.'
The little girl snatches the dart away and throws, without thinking, with no aim. It loops in empty air, while they hold their breath, waiting for its course to end. Maybe if she misses, she will not want the lion anymore.
Pop!
'I said so! I said so!', Tali told them, flaunting her victory while Ari looked dumbfounded. The man running the game handed down her lion, grinning at Papa. 'You have quite the sharpshooter there.'
She doesn't even think about Ari's teasing later, or how much more time Papa will spend on still targets now that he has seen Ari's dismal display. All that matters, is that the mission has been completed.
Lazily, she throws her dart in the empty air of the bullpen, with a dreamy gaze in her eyes. What will she win this time? 'Ow! Ziva! Okay, okay, you're a one-man woman! But how am I supposed to look at you when I think you just dislocated my eye?', Tony cried. Oops.
'What did you say? Anthony DiNozzo, you pig!' Ziva is back to Ziva the Crazy Israeli Chick in a snap.
'Oh, God. Okay, not the paperclips, okay? I mean, there was this one movie where...GAHHHHHHH!
Good thing that she had worn cross trainers. Tony had been working on his Tag skills.
They are no longer children. Missions mean much more then stuffed toys now. But that never means the child in them is dead.
'David! DiNozzo! What the hell is going on?'