A/N I haven't had much time to write this past week. This is just a little bit of extra-fluffiness I wrote over the weekend. Thanks to everyone who is still reading. And, hugs to everyone who has reviewed.
Disclaimer I don't own them and I'm still not making any money off of them.
"I throw like a girl," Ziva yelled.
"You are a girl," Gibbs yelled back.
The agents were in Ziva's back yard. Jethro walked to where Ziva was standing. He figured this was a hopeless, but he had promised she could play on the NCIS baseball team. One of their female players had recently found out she was pregnant and would no longer be able to play. Ziva had insisted that, as she was now an American, she wanted to learn the game. Jethro really didn't want to lose to the FBI, but he couldn't refuse when she turned those big, brown eyes on him.
"Stand to the side and watch me" he instructed. He then proceeded to demonstrate, again, how to throw the ball.
"Don't try to get fancy. Just try to get the ball to the other player." He handed her one of the baseballs and moved behind her. "Hold it like this." He placed the ball in her hand correctly. He drew her arm back. "Make sure you snap your wrist when you let it go."
Jethro moved back several feet. "Now you try it."
This time the ball actually made it a dozen feet before it plopped to the ground. Ziva turned to Gibbs with such animation on her face, he couldn't tell her she stunk.
"That was better, yes?" She sounded so hopeful he had to smile.
"Yes, Ziver, that was better. Try again. This time don't bring your arm over your head. Keep it level with your shoulder." He handed her another ball.
This time the ball made it a few feet further.
"Better. Try again. Don't close your eyes when you throw. And, follow threw from the waist." Jethro handed her another ball.
A dozen tries later, Jethro had to admit Ziva was getting better. She definitely wasn't Major League material. However, she was able to throw almost the length of her tiny backyard. Maybe she wouldn't embarrass herself too badly.
"I'll take you to the batting cages tomorrow. For now I'll show you how to hold the bat and swing." He hoped she was better at this part of the game.
Jethro demonstrated first. Then he handed her the bat. Standing behind her again, he helped her find the correct stance. He showed her how to swing the bat and had her practice several times. He was surprised as he watched her. Ziva definitely looked like she knew what she was doing.
"Gibbs, can I please swing at a real ball?" Ziva turned to him with a pleading look.
"I don't know, Ziver. We don't have enough room here." Jethro answered.
"Please. I just want to try it one time with a real ball." She widened those chocolate eyes that Gibbs couldn't resist.
"Okay. But, just one." He told himself she would never connect with the ball.
Ziva set her feet in the grass and raised the bat to her shoulder. She took a few practice swings like she had seen Gibbs do. She bent her knees and leaned slightly forward. The look on her face was one of pure concentration.
Jethro shook his head and grinned. Ziva was approaching baseball with the single minded determination she applied to everything she did. He had to admit that he was having fun teaching her the game.
Jethro faced Ziva from the length of her yard and pitched a fast ball. His brain registered the sound of the bat striking the leather ball. He barely had time to duck as the ball sailed towards his head. Still in a crouched position, Gibbs turned just as he heard the sound of glass breaking. Jagged shards were all that remained in the frame of Mrs. Elliott's dining room window.
As he straightened, he turned and faced Ziva. The young woman was standing with one hand clasped over her mouth. Her eyes were wide with shock.
"Oh, hell," was all he could say.
"Gibbs, I am so sorry. I just swung the bat like you showed me. I did not think it would go that far." Her nervous babbling reminded Jethro of one of Abby's tirades.
Jethro crossed the yard to where she was still standing and took the bat from her hand. "It was my fault, Ziver. I should have known better. Come on. Let's go make sure Mrs. Elliott is okay."
The two agents hopped the back fence. They had just landed when the elderly lady came out of her back door.
"Leroy Jethro Gibbs! Have you lost your mind? I expect this kind of behavior from the children in the neighborhood. But, you are old enough to know better." Mrs. Elliott was waving the baseball in front of her as if she was contemplating throwing it at him.
Ziva hung back as Jethro approached the retired school librarian. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Elliott. It was an accident. I was teaching Ziva." As he neared the irate octogenarian he lowered his voice. "I didn't think she would be able to hit it."
"Humph. I expect you will fix my window. Won't you, Jethro?" She demanded.
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll just go get a tape measure and be right back." Jethro answered.
"And, you, young lady." Mrs. Elliott turned her gaze to Ziva. "I expect you will clean all of that glass out of my dining room floor."
"Yes, Ma'am. I am very sorry. Please do not be angry at Gibbs. It was my fault." Ziva answered.
Mrs. Elliott oversaw the removal of the remaining glass and supervised Ziva's clean-up efforts. Jethro measured the window and left on a quick trip to the nearest glass shop. The older woman sat in one of her dining room chairs and watched Gibbs' newest agent.
Ziva was surprised when Mrs. Elliott finally spoke to her. "You've been good for that boy."
"Excuse me?" Ziva wasn't sure she heard correctly.
"You've been good for Jethro," Mrs. Elliott repeated. "He's been alone far too long. You've managed to draw him out of that shell he built around himself."
"He has been good for me too, Mrs. Elliott. Gibbs has taught me it is okay to have fun. I have taken myself far too seriously for far too long." Ziva was surprised by how comfortable it felt to talk with her elderly neighbor.
They continued to chat as Ziva swept and then mopped the floor. Ziva found out that the elderly woman's children all lived in other areas of the country. She had various clubs and activities to keep her busy. And, Ziva discovered that Mrs. Elliott was very active in her church.
"Maybe you would like to go to bingo with me some Tuesday night. We play in the Fellowship Hall." Mrs. Elliott extended an invitation.
"But, I am Jewish," Ziva explained.
"That won't matter during Bingo, Dear. We have people from many different faiths come for Bingo night. We even have several Jewish couples that play regularly. The money we raise goes to a shelter for battered women." Mrs. Elliott, like all of the elderly residents on the block, had taken an interest in their new neighbor.
Ziva's first instinct was to refuse. Then she reconsidered. It might be fun and she would meet new people.
"I have never played Bingo." Ziva admitted.
"You will sit with me and I will explain the game to you. You will catch on quickly." Mrs. Elliott assured her.
"Then, yes, I would like to go. The next Tuesday night we do not work late, I will call you." Ziva finished mopping as Jethro returned with the new glass.
Jethro made quick work of replacing the glass. He apologized for the incident again.
"Think nothing of it, Jethro. It gave me a chance to get acquainted with Ziva." Mrs. Elliott patted Ziva's hand. "Don't forget to call me Tuesday night, Dear. Maybe we could stop for dinner on the way."
Jethro and Ziva said their goodbyes to Mrs. Elliott. They left through the front door and crossed the lawn to where Jethro had parked his truck.
He began backing out of the drive before he spoke. "Where are you and Mrs. Elliott going Tuesday night?"
"She invited me to go for Bingo," she answered. Ziva looked up from fastening her seat belt as Jethro began to laugh.
"What is so funny, Gibbs?" she asked.
When he finally composed himself, Jethro replied, "You will be the youngest person there by forty years, Ziver. It's a group of senior citizens who get together to play."
"Oh." Ziva was momentarily at a loss for words. "Well, I told Mrs. Elliott I would go, so I will. She seems very lonely. And, perhaps I will have fun."
Jethro had circled the block and now pulled into his own drive. "Just don't take more money than you're willing to lose. And, don't be deceived. When it comes to their Bingo, those old folks are ruthless."
Ziva laughed as she swung down from the cab of the truck. "Gibbs, you sound like you are afraid of them."
"Not afraid. Just cautious." Jethro rounded the front of the truck and stood beside her. "Is DiNozzo coming over?"
"He said he would be by later." Ziva replied as she watched the Davis twins zip by on their skateboards.
"Don't even think about it, Ziver," Jethro warned her.
"What? I was just watching." Ziva tried to look innocent.
Jethro snorted, "Yeah, right." He slung an arm around her shoulders and steered her towards her own backyard. "Come on. Help me gather everything up."
As they walked between the two houses, Ziva put an arm around his waist. "Thank you for teaching me to play baseball. I am looking forward to the game. I will try not to embarrass you."
"You're welcome," Jethro told the young woman. "And, don't worry about it. You won't embarrass me…even if you do throw like a girl."
At Ziva's mock cry of indignation, Jethro took off running across the yard. His laughter echoed up and down the block as he tried to outrun and then outmaneuver Ziva's pursuit.