A/N: I'm not sure what happened with this chapter! I had difficulty posting it last night where the site wouldn't accept it, but it eventually went up. I was then informed that it was gone again! I'm posting it again, and apologies for the confusion, I don't know what is/was wrong with it!

The ride to Gibbs' place had been stony at best, and downright suffocating at worst. The irate team leader had barked delegations at DiNozzo as he had swept from the bull pen, with two miserable looking young women in toe.

Swapping quizzical looks with McGee, both agents had shrugged uneasily and turned back to their work, thanking their lucky stars that their boss' evident anger wasn't directed in their direction.

For a change.

Not a single word was spoken as Gibbs deftly steered his car through the heavy DC evening traffic.

He was surprisingly relieved that he had learned of his two silent passengers jaunt into stupidity last night. He was now completely calm and capable of being fair, and rational. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he discreetly sighed when he saw the matching looks of misery on both girls' face.

As calmly mad as he was, he still loathed seeing any of his four upset.

Shaking his head, he turned his car into his driveway and killed the engine.

"In the house girls" he instructed quietly, and slipping out of the car, he set off towards the front door without glancing back to see if they were following. He knew they would be.

Pushing open his front door, he threw himself on the sofa and watched silently as Ziva and Abby filed in after him, gently closing the front door behind them.

Watching them fidget in front of him, he suddenly felt more of his father's age than his own.

Realising his main priority, he pulled himself together.

Standing up, he crossed the room to the two silent girls and stared at them sternly.

"Abby, go to your room. Now."

The young woman looked up at him miserably, and shook her head.

"No Gibbs, this is my fault, I-"

What she was, they never found out.

Calmly reaching out and gently, but firmly taking the protesting girl by the arm, Gibbs turned her quickly to her side and dished out a quick flurry of firm and deliberate swats.

Raising his voice just enough to be heard above the surprised yelping and spluttered "oww's", he looked down at Abby with his firmest expression.

"I have had just about as much disobedience from you to last me a lifetime. Get yourself up those stairs this minute and for once in your life just do as you are told."

Large eyes looked up at him in surprised misery, and after a second's hesitation, the young analyst turned and dashed up the stairs.

Sighing, Gibbs turned his attention back to Ziva, who was resolutely staring at the floor.

"Eyes up."

He had long since learned that with his youngest, simple and to the point instructions yielded the best results.

Placing another firm, but gentle hand on her shoulder, he turned the young woman in the direction of the kitchen and steered her firmly towards it. He silently thanked god that at least one of his brood had the common sense to know when to cut their losses and cooperate with him.

Carefully placing the still silent girl in the first chair, he immediately turned and began to rummage around in a nearby cupboard.

Quickly locating the well stocked first aid box, he turned back to a quietly observing Ziva.

Crouching down in front of her, he looked up into her wide eyes and sighed.

"I know your ribs are injured in some way kid" he muttered, "have you bandaged them?"

Biting her lip nervously, the mass of dark curls bobbed as she nodded her head.

"They are just bruised Gibbs" she replied softly, confirming the elder agents earlier suspicions.

"Thought so" he murmured, rooting around in the box for fresh bandages and anti inflammatory cream.

"Stand up" he instructed, as he located what he was looking for.

After a moment's indecision, she did as asked and looked at him questioningly.

"This cream will take away the sting, and keep the swelling down. I always use it" he explained evenly, twisting the cap off the tube.

Ziva gaped at both the deeply concerned expression on his face, and the gentle tone he was using.

"Why uhh…why do you care if they hurt?" she all but spluttered, confusion splashed across her face. "It's my own fault, they should hurt" she added miserably, dropping her gaze down to the floor.

Gibbs' expression matched his in-house killer's as he surveyed her in incredulity.

"What do you mean why do I care if they hurt?" he bit out in shock, "of course I care!"

Ziva tore her gaze up and shrugged somewhat, mumbling something under her breath that Gibbs couldn't decipher, but the sudden pain in her tone made his senses alarm.

"Ziva…" he said gently, "what did you just say?"

She flushed, and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, and shrugged again.

"Nothing, I will put the cream on. Thank you."

Shaking his head, Gibbs reached out and squeezed her shoulders.

"No kid, tell me what you said" he instructed quietly.

He had caught the look of deep sadness that had flashed across her face, that she had then desperately tried to hide.

Huge, doleful eyes looked up at him, before darting back to the floor as the young woman took in a deep, wavering breath.

"It's just…well, it's just…my father he…he would not…he would never permit pain relief in the event of injury…because he believes if I…if I were to do my job right…I would not have been hurt in the first place."

The air that forced its way down Gibbs' windpipe, as he gazed in horror at his girl, felt unnaturally cold.

Feeling his teeth begin to grind ferociously in rage, he took a deep breath and opened his mouth to answer the young woman.

But she wasn't done talking.

Continuing to stare down at the floor, and murmuring… as if almost to herself, the deep brown eyes were now squeezed tightly shut.

"There was this one time…I was just newly accepted into Mossad….and we were training. I mistook a jump and fell…maybe eleven or twelve feet. He had warned me about that jump. I bruised every one of my ribs…and needed stitches. My father was…furious. He….he forbade the doctor from prescribing any medication…and as soon as my eye was stitched…he forced me to repeat the training exercise. He said it would teach me not to listen to him."

Her mouth contorted into some kind of a grimace as the memory played across her conscience.

"I got it right the second time though…until now, I guess when I should have listened to you."

If Gibbs men were to routinely vomit, Jethro would have completely upended the contents of his stomach across his kitchen floor as he stared at his youngest girl in complete horror.

He had known Eli was a bastard, of course he had known.

But…the extent… the damage…he had wreaked upon the beautiful girl in front of him conjured up the same kind of rage he still harboured for Pedro Hernandez.

Dropping the tube of cream on the table, he gently moved forwards, his paternal instincts overcoming his own emotions.

Carefully, he reached out, and being careful to not press against the young woman's ribs, he drew her tightly into his arms.

Pressing his face into the wild mop of hair, he closed his eyes tightly.

"Ziver…you're safe now…with me" he whispered fiercely, "I promise."

Breaking apart from him, Ziva looked up and smiled her crooked smile.

"I… have never had any doubt about that, Gibbs."

Cupping her chin in his hand and looking down at her, the elder agent wished, not for the first time, that he could spend some time alone in a room with McGee's, DiNozzo's and Ziva's "father's".

Both being people of few words, they exchanged shy smiles, knowing the message they were silently conveying.

Jethro Gibbs was no Eli David.

"Ok" he said softly, his paternal instinct kicking in again, "we need to get those ribs seen to. Now, I can get Ducky over here if you want?"

She shook her head quickly.

"No, that will not be necessary, I can do it myself."

Nodding, Gibbs wordlessly handed her the tube and the bandage roll and set about putting on a pot of the herbal tea he kept in stock for Ziva, Ducky and Abby.

He forced himself not to think about Director David.

He needed to keep his cool.

Five or so minutes later, Ziva meandered back into the kitchen looking slightly less tense.

Pushing the steaming cup across the table at her, Gibbs arched an eyebrow.

"Is that on properly?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Ziva nodded and gratefully scooped up the fragrant tea.

Suddenly feeling hesitant, remembering how much trouble they were in, she shot a questioning look across the table.

"So…what now?" she asked nervously.

Gibbs leaned back in his chair and picked up his own regular tea, and drank deeply from it.

"Now kid? Now we talk" he responded quietly, but letting a stern note creep into his voice.

Squirming, Ziva nodded.

If there was one thing she hated to do, it was talk.

These Americans and their incessant chatter.

Knowing what was going on inside the young woman's head, Gibbs suppressed his own eye roll.

"Ok…start talking" he instructed simply, looking out over the top of his mug.

Ziva nodded, knowing that he was asking for full disclosure, and out of respect for the man, instantly deciding to give it to him.

"We got drunk" she stated flatly, "we left the club with these two guys…who turned out to be creeps. I got us away from them. But then we realised that we were in the middle of nowhere, with no public transport. So…uhh, we thought we'd uhh…walk."

She winced as Gibbs' jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed in response, but forced herself to continue

"So uhm…yeah, we were…walking and then we were….well we were mugged Gibbs. I managed to get away from where it happened, but it was a struggle. We managed to get home. We…we did not tell you what happened. We lied to you, and I'm…really sorry."

The last few words were all but whispered, as the girl felt herself fill to the brim with guilt, and fix her eyes on her cup.

Across the table, Gibbs was silently digesting her explanation.

It was broadly in line with what he had expected to hear, but…it was definitely phrased in such a way that portrayed Abby in the best light possible. Gibbs knew both of his two to know fine well what had happened.

Ziva would have wanted to call him, and Abby would have pleaded with her not to.

Tightening his jaw once again, he shook his head.

He wasn't going to blame Ziva for trying to protect Abby, but he and his lab rat were going to be having a very long discussion when her turn came.

"Am I correct in assuming, that you didn't call me like I specifically told you to, because you thought I'd lay into you two for being wasted?"

The lip chewing and squirming across the other side of the table, let him know he was correct in his assumptions.

"Yes Gibbs" Ziva muttered quietly, fidgeting diligently with her cup.

He nodded slowly and took in a deep breath.

"I can't even tell you how disappointed I am that you two made that decision" he said quietly, fixing the saddened looking girl with a stern glare.

As sure as he was that Abby had been the brains of this particular screw up, Ziva still should have known better as well.

"M'sorry" she murmured miserably, tasting a rusty tinge as she chewed her lip a little too ferociously.

A look then suddenly flashed across her face, that the elder agent instantly recognised and felt the familiar tugging on his heartstrings.

He really hated to see that look.

Sighing heavily, Gibbs ran appraising gaze over her and stood up.

"Come here" he said firmly, looking intently in her direction.

Gulping, she obediently got her feet and cast her eyes quickly over the kitchen counter tops.

Gibbs bit back a chuckle despite himself.

He knew she was clearly searching to see had he taken out the wooden spoon that the kid positively detested.

Coming to a halt in front of him, she looked up nervously.

She was surprised to find herself, instead of upended over his knee or over the worktop, once again in his arms.

Murmuring into her hair once more, he held her tightly to him, whilst being continuously careful of her ribs.

"You, young lady, are in a whole world of trouble…but, there is nothing you can do that will ever make me stop caring. You understand me?"

The tense posture of the girl in his arms instantly melted away, as she sniffed heavily into his chest.

How did he always know?

Satisfied, Gibbs released his youngest girl from his arms once more, and turning her around gently, issued a stinging swat across her backside.

"Ok kid. Living room, now. We have something to take care of."

…..

TBC

…