A/N: Kudos to ScarletAngelww for spotting the deliberate mistake in yesterday's. I make all sorts of horrible typos, but I normally catch a fair few...
March 14
Right now stop reading this and call a friend you've lost touch with. Call a friend that you think about from time to time, but haven't gotten around to calling. Call a friend and welcome her back into your life.
Ziva tried to calculate the time difference in her head. If she called Miriam now, it would be in the evening, and she should be free.
She had not spoken to Miriam since she had left for America to become part of Gibbs' team. They had grown up together and been best friends. Miriam had helped her through Tali's death all those years ago, even though it seemed like yesterday.
They had gone in different directions in life: Ziva had allowed herself to be swept into Mossad, while Miriam had married her childhood sweetheart, Michael, and had four children. At least it had been four the last time they had spoken; she would not be surprised if four was now five or even six. Miriam had always wanted a large family, something Ziva did not care for. Her own life was about protecting her country.
Nevertheless, she had sometimes wondered about becoming a mother. Could she bring a child into this world, knowing of all the evil that existed? Miriam had always argued that children were a clean slate, and they alone would build the future. Ziva supposed her main concern was that any children of her own would be pulled into Mossad, especially seeing as she had been raised to become an officer.
Her hand hovered over the phone on her desk. The squad room was fairly empty and relatively quiet. Her coworkers were not around to distract her. She really needed to make this call now, but she was nervous. Would Miriam remember her after all, or was she even alive?
Forcing herself to pick up the phone, she dialed a number from memory. Somewhere on the other side of the world, someone answered.
"Shalom, Miriam?"
"Ziva! Shalom!"