Loved this weeks episode, which inspired this little ditty. It took me a few days to hash out how I wanted it to go and I am content with the result.
Disclaimer: NCIS = Not mine. If it were, Vance would not have survived the ambush.
Reviews are always welcome.
-The Lady Grace
The Flags of My Fathers
When Eli David left NCIS, arm in a sling, to return to Israel, he left behind two things.
His daughter, and a small Israeli flag.
Ziva sat at her desk, working on her report. She hated paperwork. Her eyes kept straying back to the flag her father had stuck into her pen holder. It was the flag that had been hers for most of her life. But she was an American citizen now. He must know that. Was he trying to claim her, to remind her of what had been?
She reflected that the last several months have seen the visits three of the team's fathers. First Gibbs', then Tony's, and finally hers. It is fitting, that the fathers have visited in succession from the least troubled relationship to the most. Over a year ago she had told the team leader that Eli was dead to her and that he was the closest thing she had to a father. Eli had come to D.C., said some kind words that she could not deny fed a starving part of her heart. But nice words, a small flag and a kiss on the forehead do not heal all wounds, do not erase years of pain and her father putting almost everything above her.
The next morning, when she arrived to an empty bullpen, only the jacket and coffee cup on Gibbs desk told her she wasn't the first to arrive. She sat down at her own desk, looking over what needed to be done that day.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw something that had not been there when she left. She turned her head.
A small American flag sat in the pen holder next to the Israeli one.
Ziva smiled. Now she had the flags of both of her fathers.