New batch of chapters. This time Chapter 18 to Chapter 23.

Before we continue, I have a favor to ask, and a question. Starting with the question: Is there anyone reading this that would be interested in a prequel of sorts, one that deals with the Kadira/Ari relationship? I have something written, but if nobody is interested, I do not need to take the time to go over it and can leave it as a draft.

And coming to the favor: I have a (perhaps a bit dark in the beginning) Tiva story of about 5,700 words for which I need a beta reader. I am not sure about it and would like some input, plus I changed tenses like three times over, and while the story in itself makes sense to me, I have a feeling that it's just a confusing mess of words. The rating of that piece is definitely not M, rather heavy T.

Okay, and now I will leave you to read.

A single drop fell down on the picture in her hand, and Ziva blinked her eyes, a little shocked at the realization that she was crying. She reached out and softly traced the features of the young girl in the picture. It was the only one she had, the only one ever taken with the four of them, Ari, her, Tali and Kadira. Only now did she notice the resemblance between Kadira and Ari, the shape of their noses, the slight slant of their eyes, the tanned color of their skin, still different of her's and Tali's. The full lips of Kadira and Ari, and the dimple when they smiled. And the affection in their eyes when they looked at each other.

As a child, Ziva had sometimes been slightly jealous of the Palestine girl. Because even though Ari gave her most of his attention when they were together, it was Kadira that was always in his thoughts and prayers. Not Ziva, and even not Tali. Kadira, the youngest of his siblings, the one that had to live the hardest life. When Tali died, Ziva had been furious. And part of her blamed Kadira along with every other Palestine. Until she realized that then she would have to blame Ari, too, at least partially. Because he had grown up in Gaza, too. Because his mother had been a Palestine woman, a Muslim woman.

The shrill ring of her cell phone snapped her out of her thoughts. She reached across the stick and found it on the passenger seat. Glancing at the display, she frowned. The number in the display was unfamiliar. Either Tony, Gibbs, McGee, Abby and Jenny were really getting desperate, or someone else was trying to contact her. Deciding it wouldn't matter that much if she hang up before they could trace her, she answered.

"Yes?" Ziva said, glancing down at the picture again.

"Boom." was the only word that was said before Ziva heard the click that signaled the call had been disconnected. She stared at her cell phone in confusion. Why would someone call her and only say-

A loud explosion stopped her train of thought and had her diving for cover behind the sofa. The front door had just been blown to pieces, burning wood flying into the room, coming to rest everywhere. Ziva cursed when her hand felt for her gun and she realized she must have left it on the coffee table. Slowly, she peered around the furniture. And besides a cloud of smoke, she didn't see anything. No one else seemed to be here. Ziva furrowed her brows. That didn't make any sense. Whoever had called her knew of the bomb and that she was in here. The logical conclusion was that it was a member of the same Hamas cell Kadira was part of; perhaps it had even been her. Ziva tried to recall the voice, but didn't come up with much. Female, yes. It could have been her, but she wasn't too sure.

Ziva waited for a few moments before she crawled to the coffee table and took her gun. She stood up, flexing, brushing herself off.

*I should have known.*

Ziva jumped and whirled around, bringing up her gun, pointing directly at Kadira. Who was leaning against what was left of the wall, her arms crossed, her left foot against the wall, supporting her. Ziva blinked as the smoke and dust settled completely. The brief glimpse she had gotten of Kadira in the alley and the drug store had left her with fleeting impressions, but now she was able to watch her more closely. To her surprise, Kadira looked completely relaxed, her gun rested at her right hip, safety in place. The long, dark curls framed her face. In the dim light, her resemblance to Ari was even more prominent. If it weren't for his more pronounced chin and sharp edges of his face and the fact he had been male and was now dead, Ziva would have confused Kadira with her half-brother. Strange, wasn't it? As a child, Ziva had seen the physical resemblance between Ari and their father, and not realized that it wasn't physical features they shared, but the air that had, their way of walking and talking, and the cold look in their eyes. Now it became clear that physically, Kadira resembled her brother more than Ziva ever had and ever would. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, if only her eyes didn't hold so much sadness, grief and anger.

Slowly, Ziva put down her gun and holstered it. Drawing it had been a reflex, anyway. She knew she wouldn't be able to shoot Kadi, not with that look in her eyes, the look Ari had had in Gibbs' basement.

|I was wondering if you could answer a question, Officer David.| Kadira's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Ziva frowned slightly. Hearing Kadira speak Arabic was not new to her, but it was the first time the words had been directed at her. In the past, Kadira had talked in Hebrew, even at Ari's funeral when Eli David had only gotten Arabic answers, the conversations between Ziva and Kadira had still taken place in Hebrew, and only Hebrew. Perhaps she had slipped without noticing, Ziva thought. But her gut told her that it wasn't the case. She had seen Director David as her enemy, and changed to the language she was better able to express herself in. As she did now with Ziva.

*I can try.* Ziva nodded. A soft smile played around Kadira's lips. She pushed herself away from the wall and walked over to Ziva, swinging her hips slowly, almost seductive. Coming to a halt in front of her, Kadira searched her face for a second, before looking into her eyes. The look in those of the younger woman made the hair on Ziva's neck stand up. Kadira leaned forward slightly, her mouth inches from Ziva's ear, her warm breath tickling her.

|Did you have the guts to look him in the eyes when you shot our brother?| she whispered before leaning back only to find Ziva staring at her, her brown eyes wide with shock. How had she found out? But did it even matter how Kadira had found out that it had been her who shot their brother? The fact remained: she knew. And she was not the kind of person to let something like this slide.

|That answers it, I guess.| Kadira said, raising a delicate eyebrow shortly before taking a step away from Ziva, raising her gun, pointing it to the head of the Mossad Officer.

TBC