Counting Stars

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Summary: It's now a twisted game of Cat and Mouse as the hunter becomes the hunted, and the Ambassador's son and the Mossad Director's daughter come face-to-face with forces that seek to destroy them and everyone they love. Loyalties are tested, lives are cut short and the agency they count among their family turns its back on its own, which might just tear the team- and their family- apart. Picks up immediately where Buried... leaves off.

A/N: Anyone else notice that I tend to write stories in sets of four?

"I'm sorry, but I don't exactly understand this. Explain it to me again?" Tim asked, pouring three cups of coffee. Ziva was sitting on the sofa across from Michael, who sat in the armchair. Silently, Tim handed the other man the coffee before joining his wife and handing her her own cup. It wasn't just that Tim was unclear on what Michael had explain to them, it was more the fact that his wife's former Mossad partner was sitting in their living room.

"I have been put on mission by Mossad, to find your father, Ziva, and kill him."

"Why?" Tim asked, not trusting the other man. Rivkin chuckled.

"Because Eli David has been a thorn in the side of Mossad for years. He has gotten out of control. And he has gotten dangerous. Not only to us in Mossad, but to you here."

"He knows about Tali?" Tim asked, surprised, even though he shouldn't have been.

"He has always known about Talia being alive. They never found her body, and so he knew she had to have escaped. And he knew, as long as you were on the fringes of Mossad, he could not touch you, Ziva. And now that you are both in America, you are sitting bucks."

"Ducks." Ziva corrected. Rivkin turned to her. "The expression, is 'sitting ducks.'" Ziva growled, as Tim laid a hand on her knee and gave her a look. After a moment, Tim got up, going into the kitchen, seeing Asher come out of the hallway.

"Abba, who is that?" Tim knelt down, whispered something to him, and then gently pushed the boy back into the hall, towards his sister's bedroom.

"Your son?" Rivkin asked, turning back to Ziva, who nodded, pulling her husband's robe tighter around her boxer-and-tank clothed body. "And, were I to guess, I would say you found his father." Again, she nodded, as Tim returned to them, taking a seat beside his wife again.

"Asher has a little brother and sister now." Ziva whispered, taking Tim's hand and lacing their fingers. Rivkin raised an eyebrow.

"Does he?" She nodded. "Anymore on the way?" He joked lightly, but Ziva closed her eyes, shaking her head with a chuckle.

"No. Tim and I use protection and I am on Mirena. Zipporah is our last."

"Zipporah?" Ziva nodded, turning to Tim. She nodded, and after a moment, he squeezed her hand and got up. Several minutes passed, before he returned with the boys in tow; Zipporah was settled on his hip. Both Asher and Liron hid behind their father; though, as they got closer, Asher suddenly realized who was sitting across from his mother. Rivkin had always been kind to Asher, and the other man had developed a minor crush on the young mother, but the boy had always unnerved him, a common trait among men who dated or liked single mothers. Now seeing the three children with Tim, Rivkin realized how desperate Ziva was to find the man who had fathered her child. She was happy. "They are beautiful, Ziva."

She gave him a soft smile and got up, taking Zipporah from her husband with a soft kiss. As they settled on the sofa, Ziva whispered,

"There is more to this, ken? There is more than you just coming to kill my father." Michael nodded.

"Yes." Tim and Ziva shared a glance, before Ziva pressed a kiss to Zipporah's head and turned to the boys.

"Take your sister and brother and go back to bed, my angel." Asher nodded, getting off the sofa and taking Zipporah before taking Liron's hand and leading the little boy back to the hallway. He glanced back at his parents before finally leaving. Once they were gone, Ziva turned back to Rivkin. "What else?" Rivkin raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, Michael. We were partners once, I trusted you with my life. What else is there? Besides killing my father, what else do you have to do?"

Asher gently tucked the blankets around his brother. "Asher?" He took a seat beside his brother.

"What is it?" Liron swallowed.

"Who is that strange man in the living room?" Asher swallowed.

"He... He is Officer Rivkin. He was... Ima's old partner in Mossad. When we lived in Israel." Liron raised an eyebrow.

"We did?" Asher's head snapped up.

"Just Ima and I. Abba was forced to leave, so only Ima and I lived in Israel. You and Zippa were not thought of yet." The younger boy nodded.

"Oh. Is that when you and Ima came to America?" Asher bit his lip.

"We came to find Abba when I was eight. America was scary. It was nothing like I had seen in books. It was bigger." Liron furrowed a brow.

"But... I thought you were born in America?" Asher shook his head quickly.

"No. You and Zippa were born here, but I was born in Israel. But because Abba is American, I am American, even if I was born far away."

"Oh." Liron yawned. "I am glad we are in America." Asher smiled as his brother fell asleep, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to his head.

"So am I, Liron." Then, he slipped out of the room.

"What else could Mossad possibly having you do, Michael?" Ziva asked, taking Tim's hand. Rivkin sighed, meeting their eyes.

"It is not Mossad, Ziva. It is your father. He is convinced..."

"Convinced of what?" She asked, staring at him. Tim raised an eyebrow at Rivkin's next words.

"He is determined to bring down Director Vance. And ultimately, NCIS."