"Move and I shoot!" I heard from behind me.

My first thought was a robbery but then I realized this house was heavily guarded only an idiot would try and rob it.

So what was it then? An assassination attempt on the director's life?

Processing this all quickly in my head I turned around and kicked the gun from my assailant's hand.

Quickly following it up with a right hand hook to the face.

My eye's straining in the dark I could just make out a hand coming towards me, quickly I deflected it.

That alone surprised me usually after that punch most of my opponents would be hunched over in pain, eyes watering.

But then again if this was to be an attempt on the director's life it would have to be a professional hit man.

Stepping forward I went for a punch to the stomach at least I hoped it was the stomach.

But to my surprise my opponent pre-empted that strike and grabbed my arm and twisted it, following it up with a knee to the groin and swept my feet out from under me leaving me lying on my back on the floor gasping for breath.

Then I heard them flick the safety off and point the gun at me again.

"Move one inch and I will shoot you," the voice was icy cold and held no mercy and I knew they would have no problem carrying out their threat.

So I lay still on the ground, my head racing trying to figure a way out of this situation or at least a way to warn Jenny.

Then they turned on the lights and for a second I couldn't see, my eyes by now used to the dark, but it did puzzle me as to why they would turn the lights on, if they were trying to avoid detection.

"Gibbs!" they sounded shocked, but more importantly how did they know my name?

My eyes slowly adjusted to the light enough to see that it was a young girl that had attacked me, she couldn't been older than 25!

How on earth had she beaten me?

I had taken down men twice my size and yet here stood a young girl half my weight who had beaten me!

"What are you doing here?" she sounded suspicious yet her tone suggested she was more relaxed although she was still pointing the gun at my head.

But I couldn't figure out how I know her, I never forget anyone yet I can't for the life of me figure out where I know her from.

"Came to see Jenny."

"She is not here." She replied.

The gun still pointed at me.

"Came to discuss a case." I said nodding towards some case files.

She stared at me for a second, a deep penetrating stare.

Finally she lowered the gun, and extended a hand to help me up.

She had obviously decided I was telling the truth.

I ignored her hand, pushing myself off up at floor.

"Who are you?" I enquired.

Still suspicious as to what she was doing in jenny's home.

"Ziva," She replied.

She obviously wasn't a talker, I liked that.

"How do you know I jenny," I asked her.

It was obvious she wasn't a guard, yet she was too young to be Jenny's sister and I didn't know if Jenny had any other relatives.

"I am living with Jenny, she adopted me."

I was shocked; I had to work hard not to let my surprise show on my face.

Jenny hadn't mentioned anything about this to me.

But then another thought crossed my mind "How old are you?" I asked her.

"Seventeen," Ziva replied.

This time I was sure my surprise showed on my face, I had been taken down by a seventeen year old!

But she didn't comment on it.

"Drink?" she asked.

"Depends." I replied, "Bourbon?"

"Yes," Ziva replied.

She had her back to me now pouring my drink.

But when she turned around she was holding two glasses.

Taking a sip from one she offered the other to me.

Taking it I said "Should you be drinking that?"

Ziva face showed only confusion as if it was perfectly normal for a seventeen year old to be drinking alcohol let alone bourbon.

I stared at her "Your underage you know," I said when she still didn't get it.

"Oh, forgot." She said.

Then she sat down next to me on the couch placing her glass down on the coffee table.

She didn't try to start a conversion with me.

I liked that, usually I would be the last person to break the silence but something about her intrigued me.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

She hesitated a moment before answered, "Israel."

Now I really was curious as to how she knew the director, I don't think Jenny has ever been to Israel before except for one time but that was strictly for a case.

"How do you Jenny," I found myself asking.

"My mother and her were friends." Ziva replied, there was a note of sadness in her voice yet it did not wobble, as I would have expected if her mother had just died.

"How long have you been living with Jenny," I asked.

"About eight months now." Ziva replied.

This had me interested even more; I was even a little hurt.

Why had she lived with jenny so long and I had never met her?

Probably because Jenny had been coming to my house for our talks lately, now I knew why.

Had Jenny been trying to hide Ziva from me and why?

"How come I've never met you before?"

This time she hesitated longer before answering, "I was sick for a while."

My mind raced if she was sick for a while had she had cancer? Or did she just have a bad immune system?

That certainly would explain why Jenny hadn't told me about her.

But there was one question that still needed to be answered, "How did you know me?" I asked her.

"Jenny, she told me about you, showed me some pictures too." Ziva replied quietly.

I nodded, that explained it.

I then leant back against the sofa.

We once again lapsed into silence.

My questions had been answered, at least for the most part.

I had just one question left, how did she beat me?

And I suspected it wasn't going to be as easily answered as my other questions.