"I've had a look at your file, it seems you've been through quite a lot," Dr Marshall said, looking at her with a neutral expression.
Ziva had to say that she was impressed with the woman. She knew that there was a lot in her file - a lot had happened to her and Marshall was apparently a slow reader - and none of it was particularly pleasant. Especially the most recent additions. Even then, she doubted they went into much detail. But there was probably enough serial there. And she did not look disturbed or horrified by it. Like she said, impressive. That still did not mean that she was going to open up that easily (or at all) but still, it was impressive.
Ziva couldn't help but chuckle in a self-deprecating sort of way. "If only you knew about the stuff they could not write down."
That made Dr Marshall lean forwards slightly. "And what exactly could they not write down?"
Oh, there was so much that could not be written down. So much. Ziva shook away the memories, she did not want to think of them right now. Which meant that she was not going to talk about them. Even if she was, it would certainly not be to this woman. She would not understand. Even though she was paid to. No. There would be no talking because she did not want to talk.
"I do not think that for would have clearance for such things."
"I have been cleared by NCIS."
Ziva snorted. This woman could not imagine the things that she had been privy too. She doubted that her clearance covered many of those things. In fact...
"A lot of those situations happened while I was working for Mossad," she said triumphantly. "Therefore, I cannot talk about them."
"You were always working for Mossad."
"Excuse me?"
"Officer David," Dr Marshall said slowly but she felt like she was not really addressing her. "As in Mossad Officer David, liaising with NCIS."
"Yes. That was my official title."
What was she getting at? She narrowed her eyes.
"Which means you were always working for Mossad."
"I worked for NCIS," she said sharply.
She did not work for her father. Not while she was in America. She worked for Gibbs.
"Indeed."
Dr Marshall was giving her this odd l9ok like she was trying to weigh her up. Ziva tried not to shift in her seat, she did not like that look.
"And why does that matter?"
Dr Marshall didn't answer her except for a humming noise. Ziva resisted the urge to storm over to her desk and tear her notes out of her hands. Just what exactly was she writing? This was why she hated going to psychologists. They were confusing and annoying and they never told You anything. You never got any answers.
"Why does what matter?" She bit back.
She was not going to be answering any extra questions if she could help it. She would not be answering any if it had been up to her but, unfortunately, to be cleared she did actually have to talk to this woman.
"Why does it matter what agency you say that you work for?"
"I worked for both. That is the point of a liaison position."
"Indeed."
She scrunched up her nose at that word. Ducky used that word but Marshall sounded nothing like Ducky. It wasn't as warm and comforting coming from him. It was cold and clinical. Oh, she knew she was exaggerating but she really didn't care right now. And she glared at the woman to prove it. A good, strong glare. But still, she remained unruffled! Why was she looking at her like she was expecting an answer? She had not asked a question; she had only said one word. Well, she was not going to be saying anything.
Marshall sighed as if she had not done what she had wanted her to. Good.
"Yet you said that you worked for NCIS, not both Mossad and NCIS."
Ziva was unbothered by this. "And?"
"You just told me that the role of a liaison officer is to work for both agencies."
"It is."
"But you said that you worked for NCIS."
"Yes."
Ah ha. Now Marshall looked vaguely annoyed. Oh, she covered it up fairly quickly but Ziva caught it. She could not help but feel pleased. The woman was going to be annoying her so it was only fair that she got to annoy her as well. Was it particularly mature? No but it made her feel better. And was this not about her feeling better?
"Not Mossad."
Ziva stiffened at that but then quickly became dismissive.
"Because I am in America and when I am in America, I am working for NCIS."
"Mmm."
And now she was writing something down! Ziva resisted the urge to snatch the notebook from her hands, that would get her nowhere and probably more therapy sessions.
"What?" She tried demanding.
Which, of course, did not work.
"I just find it interesting."
"There is nothing interesting about it, it is fact."
"Indeed."
And then there was more writing! Oh, she knew she never should have come to this appointment. She was going to be fine without it. She was.
"Time is up," Ziva said triumphantly.
The clock had hit half past. Finally. There was no way she was going to be spending any longer than necessary here.
Marshall looked at the clock and nodded. "So, it is."
Thankfully today was only a half hour session. Ziva resisted the urge to run out of the room. She kn3w that therapy appointments normally resulted in work that you had to do. Work that she did not do, the few times she (and the rest kg the team) had actually been made to go before this and probably would not do this time. But if she wanted to be cleared, she had to at least look like she was cooperating. So, she sat there and waited.
"I think we can make this a regular thing, can't we?" Marshall asked expectantly.
Ziva grumbled at that but nodded her consent. As much as she disliked the arrangement, she knew that she could not actually go without some therapy appointments. She would not be allowed back to NCIS without them.