Disclaimer: Still no word on our Boy Who Lived. Time for plan B. I wonder what the Ministry are gonna do with all those rogue Dementors? Maybe they'll nudge a few in my direction :) I should let my Dementors take out The Frog too, and then we could back to normal cases. Yes, well, NCIS is not mine. I don't think they're gonna sell to a nutcase like me.

A/N I bet you can guess that I've still on a Harry Potter high. Well, here's the next chapter. Just a warning, there is one swear word and implied sexual intercourse, but it's nothing you wouldn't find in an M-rated (Australian rating that is – PG-13 I think is the American equivalent, not sure) show. And just pretend the characters are speaking Hebrew, okay. I'll probably be able to post one chapter per week, maybe more in the school holidays. Enjoy!

"There is a good reason they call these ceremonies "commencement exercises." Graduation is not the end; it's the beginning." - Orrin Hatch
Chapter Five: Just The Beginning

Tel Aviv Community Secondary College, Class of 1997 Graduation, Tel Aviv, June 1997

"Zee!" a voice shrieked. A blur of dark hair flew across the hall and latched onto eighteen year old Ziva.

"Whoa, calm down, Addy," Ziva said from underneath the arms. "You're wrinkling your dress."

Adena Harel immediately unlatched herself from her best friend and studied her intently. "Oh, gosh, you look great, Zee."

Ziva was wearing a golden dress, heels and her hair was flowing down her back. "You too, Addy."

"You like it?" Adena spun around, showing off her pastel pink dress. "It's imported from America. Daddy got it especially."

Ziva rolled her eyes inconspicuously. "It's great, Ad."

"So you think your hunk of a spunk brother will like it?"

"Addy," Ziva admonished, "Ari's like ten years older than you . . . and he's my brother."

"Half brother, Zee," Addy replied, "half brother."

"Same difference. He's just the same as a full brother. Plus he has a girlfriend."

"When has that stopped me before?"

"Good point."

"So . . . is he here?" Adena asked eagerly.

Ziva sighed. "He should be somewhere with Tali."

"And your father . . ."

"Highly unlikely," Ziva muttered.

"I'm sure he'll be here."

"He won't," Ziva replied defiantly.

"But . . ."

"You know him, Mossad and all."

"My dad's Mossad too and he's here."

"Adena!" a voice yelled. Ziva recognised it as Adena's father.

"Ooh, sorry, Zee," Adena apologised, "I'd better see what he wants." Adena hurried off, leaving Ziva by herself.

"Shalom, little sister." Ziva spun around at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Ari!" Ari bent over and kissed Ziva on cheek. "What are you doing here?"

"We've come to see you," thirteen year old Tali piped up.

"Can't a brother come to wish his little sister good luck?" Ari said.

"I guess he can," Ziva smiled happily, glad that at least someone in her family cared. "Toda."

"Don't need to thank me, Zee. What are older brothers for?"

"Getting me alcohol and into clubs."

"Really funny, Zee, really funny," Ari replied with a smile. "Where's that friend of yours?"

"Oh, Addy? She's somewhere. Her dad called her away. Before, though, she was swooning over you . . . again. I don't get what she sees in you."

Ari punched Ziva lightly on the shoulder. "It's my charismatic charms and grace. All girls love me!"

"And so does your ego by the sounds of it," Ziva said, retuning his friendly punch.

"I can't wait to graduate," Tali said excitedly, looking around the hall, "then I can finally get out of this place."

"Only a few more years to go, Tal,' Ari replied, smiling at his sister.

"I wish it would hurry up," Tali sighed. "Ooh, hi Kelila . . ."

A girl Tali's age walked over to the group. "Tali, what are you doing here?"

"Older sister, remember," Tali replied, pointing to Ziva.

"Right, totally forgot about that," Kelila said, leaning closer to Tali. "Guess what? You'll never guess who's here?"

Tali looked puzzled. "Who?"

"Meir, you know, from school," Kelila replied, "The one that you . . ."

"Okay, Kel," Tali said loudly, cutting her off, "why don't we go outside?" Tali waved to her sister and brother before pushing Kelila out the door.

"I think someone has a crush," Ziva said to Ari.

"He's not here, is he," Ziva said, a moment later.

"I'm sorry, Zee," Ari apologised. "I tried. I even told him I would blow his head off if he didn't."

"You didn't! How could you be so stupid?"

"Yeah, well, I got a nice bruise to show for it."

"Ari, why do you insist on antagonising him?"

"Because . . ."

"Because what?"

"He gets under my skin, Zee. Nothing I ever do is good enough for him."

"That's not true."

"It is and you know it."

"But . . ."

"This is neither the time nor the place to be discussing our father. This is your day, little sister. . . I'm proud of you."

"That makes one person," Ziva said under her breath.

Three hours later, the Class of 1997 had graduated and were milling around outside the hall.

"He wasn't there, was he?" Ziva asked Ari.

"No."

Ziva sighed. "I guess it was stupid to hope."

"Not stupid, Zee, just normal."

"Why!" Ziva exploded. "Why can't he take time out of his stupid job for this one day? Every other student had their parents here and I had no one. Mum's dead and father might as well be."

"We were here," Tali pointed out.

"It's not the same," Ziva yelled. "Father is always trying to paint this picture of a perfect family for all his Mossad people, but when it really matters . . ."

"Err . . . Ari," Tali whispered, trying to keep Ziva from noticing, "I think we have a problem."

Ari turned his head slightly and saw Aharon David strolling over to his family. "Damn it."

". . . How can he be a father when he's never there," Ziva finished, unaware of the new arrival.

"Ziva, dear," the new voice said, "how did it go?"

"How did it go!?!" Ziva yelled, recognising the voice. "You would have known how it went if you had been here."

"I was caught up at work."

"You're always caught up at work."

"We were interrogating a suspect."

"So? Why couldn't you get someone else to do it?"

"It was my duty."

"Your duty was to be here with me as a father. Some father you are."

"Don't you talk to me like that."

"Why?"

"Because I'm your . . ."

"Do not say 'because I'm your father'. A father would have been here for his daughter, not conducting an interrogation which could have been done by dozens of other officers. Adena's father was here, so why couldn't you?"

"I was working."

"It's always work."

"Ziva . . ."

"No. Don't. Just go and leave me alone." Ziva turned away from her father and walked off in the direction of the park across the road.

"It's not every day you see a young lady sitting in a gown in the middle of a park." Ziva's head spun around and she stood up, ready to defend herself. "Whoa, calm down. I'm not here to kidnap you or anything." Ziva looked at him warily.

"Tamir Zimman," he said, sticking out his hand.

"Err . . . Ziva David." Ziva accepted his hand reluctantly.

"Officer David's daughter?"

"Great," Ziva muttered, "I'm not even my own person anymore. I'm just Officer David's daughter."

"I didn't mean it like that. I was merely stating . . ."

"What do you want," Ziva cut him off.

"That's not very ladylike."

"I couldn't careless if I'm ladylike at the moment."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tamir joined Ziva on the bench.

"To a complete stranger? I know better than that."

"I'm not a stranger. You know my name, I know yours and I know your father. How does that make me a stranger?"

Ziva offered a small smile. "How do I know you're not a killer?"

"Well . . . you would be dead by now and I would be halfway to Mexico. Besides, I'm Mossad. I only go after the bad guys."

"Wonderful, Mossad." Ziva was very unimpressed with this new revelation.

"I take it you don't like Mossad." Ziva was silent. "I guess I'll take that as a yes . . . so what are you doing here."

"Graduating."

"Graduating from what?"

"School. You must have seen the hall across the road."

"Indeed I have. Why aren't you graduating then?"

"I already have."

"Then why aren't you at an after party?"

"You're full of questions, aren't you?"

"I've been trained to ask questions. It's what I do. You still haven't answered my question."

"I didn't feel like it."

"Didn't feel like it? Everyone feels like it after sitting through dozens of sleep-wise speeches."

"Hey! I gave one of those speeches."

"Then I'm sure it was a very un-sleep-wise speech." Tamir flashed Ziva a smile and she rolled her eyes.

"No . . . it was very sleep-wise," Ziva said with a large smile. "I didn't even write it. A teacher did."

"Look! She smiles. You have a very pretty smile."

"Trying to pick up, are we?"

"How could you think such a thing?"

"Easy. I'm alone. You're a guy."

"I would hope my mother raised me better than that," Tamir replied. "So . . . what's the real reason you're not off partying?"

"My father," Ziva muttered.

"Your father? What about him."

"Pretty much everything, especially the fact that he couldn't even be bothered to watch me graduate."

"You sound upset."

"Of course I'm upset. What kind of father misses his own daughter's graduation?"

"Mine, for a start."

"Really?" Ziva turned and looked at Tamir.

"Yeah, my father didn't show up at my graduation either."

"Why?"

"Because he's bastard. I could never live up to his expectations, you know. Whatever I did was never good enough."

"How did you . . .?"

"I stopped seeking his approval," Tamir replied. "I stopped doing things for him and started doing things for me."

"But Mossad . . ."

"I wanted to be Mossad. I always have. Father wanted me to be a doctor."

"Opposite to my life." Tamir looked at her questioningly.

"I want to be a doctor, father wants me to be Mossad like him and the rest of the family."

"So go for it."

"Father would never allow it."

"What did I just say? Do it for you, not for him."

"It is what is expected . . ."

"What is expected of you is that you follow your heart. I did and I'm the happiest I've been in a long time."

"But father . . ."

"You have to stop seeking the approval of your father, Ziva. Unless you join Mossad as he wishes, it's never going to come. I know this."

"My whole life has been about seeking my father's approval. It was . . . is the only way to get any attention."

"Then stop. Live life like you want to. Life is short. If your father can't see what a brilliant daughter he has, then it's his loss."

"It's not that easy," Ziva pointed out.

"Yes it is. Do it. Do what's right for you."

"When did you get so wise?"

"I'm not wise, I just understand. Do what your heart desires, Ziva David, and stop trying to live the life that is not yours."

The next afternoon, Ziva awoke to the sound of her radio. Groaning and chastising herself for staying out late and not waking until the afternoon, Ziva thought back to the night before.

After Tamir had finished his speech of inspiration, they went skinny dipping in the park's pond. Something which Ziva's father would have frowned upon.

"Forget about your father. Do something impulsive for once," he had said.

So she did and she enjoyed herself immensely. She remembered kissing Tamir, his lips on hers. Climbing up the bank, he had kissed her again.

"Are you sure about this," he said.

"Yes, I am very sure," she replied.

So underneath the moonlight, Ziva Shamira David lost her virginity to the one man who, despite only knowing him for a short time, understood her better than anyone had ever before.

"And finally," the newsreader on the radio said, jolting Ziva back into the present, "two officers from Mossad have been killed while raiding the house of a wanted terrorist. Although Mossad has not officially released the names of the deceased, we believe the deceased officers are Gavriel Stein and Tamir Zimman."

Ziva's heart stopped, just for a moment, and then she got up and calmly went about her everyday routine. Pushing the previous night out of her head, Ziva sank to the floor of the shower and started to cry.

'This is what happens when you follow your dreams,' she though to herself. 'You end up in tears . . . or dead. I am not going to start something good and have it ripped away from me. I am not. I am Mossad."