I'm going to have to break rule #6 here and apologise for how long it took to update, I went on holiday and, well, I'm sorry but even Fan-fiction is not worth a £50 a day Wi-Fi fee. Anyway, I hope this chapter was worth the wait, enjoy!

Ziva woke up the next morning to find her head hurting even more than it had the day before. She rolled over and yelped as she realised that her head was not the only part of her anatomy that was sore.

She groaned and swung her legs out of the bed. Her head immediately began to hurt more and she felt dizzy but, never one to give in to illness, she forced herself to stand up. She shook and stumbled as she grabbed her wash bag and made her way to the door but she managed to get there. She stuck her head out of the room to check that the coast was clear, then sprinted across the hall into the bathroom.

This turned out to be a big mistake as she slipped and came very close to smacking her head against the bathtub, letting out an involuntary yelp as she fell.

She froze, sat on the bathroom floor, and held her breath as she listened for any signs of Gibbs approaching. Thankfully for her, he was in the basement and was completely oblivious to just how bad Ziva was.

Ziva pulled herself to her feet, gripping the side of the tub for support, and looked in the mirror. She looked like hell. Her face was white, save for the dark patches under her eyes, some of her hair was matted to her forehead by a sheen of sweat and the rest of it was sticking up in every direction like a haystack.

Half-an-hour, a hot bath, half-a-ton of hairspray and more make-up than she usually wore in a week and she could almost pass as human. Clutching the banister tightly she made her way downstairs.

"Gibbs?"

"In the kitchen."

Ziva entered the kitchen to the smell of eggs and strong coffee that made her stomach flip and it took a huge amount of self control for her to not throw up.

"Sit down, the eggs will be done in a minute and there's some toast under the grill."

"Thank you for the offer but I am not really a breakfast person, I will just have a glass of wat. . ."

Gibbs turned to glare at her. "Was there something in my tone of voice that made that sound like a request?"

"No, but. . ."

"Then sit down and eat."

"But Gibbs I. . ."

"It's not up for discussion. Sit."

Ziva faltered at his tone for only a moment. "No."

That was not something that Gibbs was expecting.

"No."

"No. You cannot make me do something I do not want to do."

At this she turned on her heel and marched out of the door. This dramatic exit was somewhat ruined by her stumbling just past the doorway. A moment before she hit the floor she felt a pair of strong arms grab her and lift her up.

Irritated at having to be rescued Ziva made to continue her storming off but quickly realised that her feet were no longer connected to the floor and that she was being carried across the kitchen to the table. As soon as she realized this she began to kick.

Gibbs shook his head as he felt Ziva's heels bang against his shins. He had worked with some defiant people over the years, Abby and DiNozzo being prime examples, but this little madame really took the biscuit.

"HEY!"

Ziva jumped and ceased her kicking long enough for Gibbs to get her in a chair.

"Gibbs! How dare. . . What right do you. . . How can. . . I am not a child Gibbs!"

"When I'm in charge of you Ziva, whether you're eight or eighty, you will do as you're told or you'll damn well face the consequences."

Ziva's pride told her to continue the argument but now that she was sat down she was even more aware of the pain left over from the night before and, not keen to reignite it, she relented.

It was only as Ziva was picking at her food that she happened to glance up at the clock.

"Gibbs! It's 10:15! We should have been at the office hours ago!"

"Relax Ziva. I spoke to the Director and she told me not to come in until this afternoon after we've. . .dealt with things."

"What do you mean 'dealt with things'?"

"I mean after we've dealt with your direct disobedience yesterday."

"What do you mean 'dealt' with it?"

Gibbs raised his eyebrows trying to work out if she was dense or defiant. Settling on the latter he bent down so he was eye level with her.

"I mean after I have put you across my knee and spanked your backside for being so damn idiotic!"

A statement like this said by a pissed of Gibbs to any of his other 'children' would have had them shaking and babbling. Ziva however simply took another mouthful of egg.

"No," she said calmly when she had swallowed.

"No?"

"No. Even if I were to allow you to spank me, which I am not, I would bend over the table. There is no way I would ever allow you to put me across your knee like a little child."

"Allow me? I'm sorry to break it to you Ziva but you have not got the authority to allow or not allow me to do anything. However, if you are that set against it, you may have a choice."

"A choice?"

"Yes, either I spank you or you return to Tel-Aviv."

"What?" Ziva wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting but it certainly was not that.

"It's your decision, but I'd advise you to think carefully. Once you've made you choice, there's no going back, no matter how loud or violently you might protest. You've got ten minutes. Finish your breakfast, then if you want to leave, leave. If not, I'll be in the basement."

Before she could say a word he had left. Ziva truly had no idea what to do.

On the one hand, submitting to such a degrading, humiliating and no doubt painful punishment went totally against the grain and every ounce of self pride that she had was screaming at her to get out.

But on the other hand, she did not want to go back to Tel-Aviv. For everything she may have thought about America and her people in general and about Team Gibbs in particular when she first arrived, since she had been here she had found life to be good and began to consider the team as her friends and, dare she say it, even her family and she was not ready to return to the cold, distantness of Mossad.

Having thought this she realised what she had to do and so, even though it went against her instincts and everything she had ever bee taught, she put her plate in the sink, took a deep breath and prepared to face the music.

Please read and review and, if you somehow managed to miss the oh so subtle hints:

WARNING! Next chapter WILL contain spanking! If that's not your thing then you're pretty stupid to have read this far in the first place but please STOP reading here! Thank you.