Sorry this is mainly speech however I felt it was an important chapter.

Also some of you were complaining that I'm 'holding my story hostage for reviews'. I'm promise I'm not, I was just so excited about hitting 100, that's all, especially right before my exams. Anyway, sorry it came across that way. On that note, thank you to GuestG who gave me number 100 and thanks to everyone else who has reviewed up to this point :)

Oh, and Josh, thanks! I was having a girls' night and you absolutely made it for us! You were a big hit.

Gibbs waited in the gym hall with countless other parents waiting for his slot with Miss Lannert. He had expected to be one of the latest slots-19:20-however with the hoards of others waiting he decided he really couldn't be. To his left was a couple, probably older or the same age as he was, with a six year old sitting in between them. He had too-large glasses and a preppy outfit he had always felt was the perfect example of what private schools dole out. Through his life, however, he'd met others that had changed his mind: Tony, for instance. They weren't all stuck-ups. Ziva was sitting across the hall with one of her friends-Michael or Aiden, he wasn't sure. She looked tiny in comparison, he mused as he watched the pair.

"Mr Gibbs?" Her teacher called.

He hoisted himself up from his seat and moved to sit across from her. They exchanged formalities.

"Well, to begin with I'd like to say Ziva is a very bright and precocious child." She said with a large smile. "Her reading comprehension, writing, arithmetic, language abilities, are all way above her age range. Ziva knows her American history down to the letter, erm...yeah...a fantastic little girl, you've done a good job."-Miss Lannert passed him over some work she'd completed-"In most areas she scores very highly. Lewis, her tutor, raves about her. He's very impressed. They're working on learning the basics of Mandarin. As you can see."

Gibbs looked over the work done by his daughter and one photo of her sitting with two pupils writing in Mandarin on a board.

"I've had her work through an independent history project of her choice. I wanted to see how she could cope with the computer, how long she could sit for, erm...work with others, etc. I think she's more than capable. She's very excited to learn. There was some discussion with other teachers about whether we should get her started on college courses however I just don't think she's emotionally or socially ready for it. We can arrange a meeting with other members of staff if you disagree but I think she should wait at least a couple of years until she's settled better. There's always going to be time for her to complete them later but she only gets one chance in this crucial stage of development."-Gibbs nodded in agreement and allowed her to continue-"Ziva's arithmetic is advanced for her age, probably around a sixth grade level I'd say, but I'd like to get her working harder on it. If you give her a problem she'll always work through it with reasonable success but it's definitely behind her literacy skills."

Miss Lannert glanced down a piece of paper with a list on it. Once she'd picked up where she was in the conversation, she met his eyes again.

"Erm...she's displayed an interest in music and we'd like to get her out of the class to learn an instrument once a week, with your permission." Gibbs nodded, indicating he was happy with it. "If you could just sign that to say she can be taken out of class for forty minutes every week then. I think she'll really benefit from it. So...erm...have you got any questions for me? I know I've just been talking away here."

"How's her behaviour?" He was well aware he had a very intelligent daughter and he was very proud of her for that. The lack of phone calls home had made him think they were just saving them all up for parent/teacher night.

"Well…" Miss Lannert lulled. "There's really nothing wrong with her behaviour, if you know how to handle her. If you're condescending or patronising she picks up on it right away and you're going to be in for a difficult time. Ziva's a good kid and if you treat her with respect she gives it back to you. Other pupils however, they know she's a hothead and sometimes like to rile her up. I'm trying to work on that with her. I keep an eye on her in the playground if I can. She really is a good kid, you should be proud."

Gibbs allowed a glance over to where Ziva was sitting with her friend. The boy said something and they both burst out in laughter. A parent near-by glanced at the two like something was said that shouldn't have been. He turned back to the teacher.

"How's she fitting in?"

"Well, you can see her with Aiden over there. He's in our first grade class. I taught him last year, he's a good boy-so's Michael. Within the class, she gets on pretty well with Emily. I think they go to ballet together, am I right?" Gibbs confirmed the statement. "Sophie and Ziva don't get on at all, unfortunately. I've had to split them up a few times. Other than that there's kids that get on with her, others that rub her up the wrong way, sometimes one can do both in the space of ten minutes. Just kid stuff. Ziva does as well with social skills as anyone in the class. You can go along to the class to see some more of her work and her project. Ziva seemed very excited about showing you earlier."-He made a move to leave but he was stopped-"Sorry, I almost forgot. You know she has an imaginary friend?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I noticed."

"It's very sweet. She talks away to her in class. Sometimes if we're in the middle of quiet time I have to remind her chatting's not allowed right now. We've not had an imaginary friend in our class for a good number of years."

Gibbs said goodbye to the teacher and nodded Ziva over. She waved goodbye to Aiden before running after him, grabbing his hand when she met him. He pulled her into his side affectionately as pride bubbled over. His little girl. His bright and precocious little girl.

She took him along to her class and showed him the artwork on the walls and pointing out which one was her own. Now that looked like it was the work of a five year old: beautiful and perfect but completely ambiguous to its purpose. She then dragged him over to her table to show him the work placed neatly on top.

"I've been working on a history project. I got to pick my topic and research it almost all by myself." Ziva picked up a green folder and thrust it into his hand before digging about for something else. "And I've been learning Mandarin-look."

He fumbled with the newest piece of work as he returned the folder to the desk. It was a book of different coloured card tied together with ribbon. Inside he noted the lines of crude Mandarin by pictures he knew were created via Ziva's tiny hand. She opened her history project and showed it to him. He screwed his eyes at the paper for a second before realising it wasn't in English.

"Spanish, Zivers?"

"Yes. It's the Spanish Civil War and the death of General Francisco Franco, why would I write about it in English?" Her face showed genuine query rather than an attempt to sound clever, as though it would be odd for her to write it in a language that the history did not originate from. "I mean, there are many official languages there but I only know one. They call it Castilian."

"Enjoy history?" He asked and filed it away with the rest of her work.

"It's my favourite after languages." She brushed the hair out of her eyes absently.

"'M proud of you, sweatpea." For everything, he wanted to add however held his tongue.

She shot him a huge smile. "I'm proud of you too."

NCIS-NCIS-NCIS

"I see Chinese. Was someone good?" Jack asked as Gibbs and Ziva entered the house.

Ziva jumped onto his lap gave a teasing smile. "As silver."

"Gold." Gibbs corrected.

"Get 'em mixed up all the time." Jack appeased Ziva with a grin.

"Do you have to go back to Stillwater at the end of the month?" She asked pleadingly but didn't say the thing she wanted to.

"Sorry, darling. I left Cal in charge of the store while I'm here and I can't leave him any longer." When she looked away he added, "but you can come visit any time."

"Will you come back during the holidays?"

Jack looked over to Gibbs who didn't turn to comment. "I...don't know Ziva. We'll have to see."

"Chinese." Gibbs announced as he dished out the meals on the table.

Ziva slipped off his lap and climbed up to the table. Gibbs and Jackson shared a look; one of two estranged men who were only just getting on good terms again. They hadn't come to too many blows while Jack was staying but if Ziva hadn't been there they might have. There was a silent agreement that they would discuss it later and they joined Ziva at the table to enjoy their celebratory meal. By the time it was finished it was nearing nine o'clock.

"Bedtime sweetpea, be up in fifteen for a story."

Ziva sighed dramatically and huffed her way up the stairs. Once she was out of sight, Gibbs returned his attention to his father. Before he could get a word in, Jackson was talking.

"I don't think I'll make it back for the holidays."

"Didn't think you would." There was no real malice behind his words though he wasn't sure whether that had been conveyed.

"If I'm leaving on the twenty-ninth, LJ, I can't very well make it back for the eighth to the twenty seventh, can I?" Jack retorted. "It's a long drive and I've got the store."

"I haven't talked to Ziva 'bout how we're celebrating yet." Gibbs had brainstormed how they were planning on taking the holidays. With Ziva being Jewish, she'd politely joined in on their Christmases when invited in the past however she'd never really jumped in feet first. He assumed she'd have the same trepidation this time around. When he'd casually mentioned it to Jack, he suggested Gibbs ask her if she wanted to teach them how to celebrate Hanukkah as well. He knew it would go down well, he just hadn't had a chance to bring it up.

"Look, dad." Gibbs sighed almost angrily. "You don't have to come back down. Just don't be a stranger. Ziva's been messed around a lot and she's become attached. She's gonna miss you."

Jack looked offended. "She's my granddaughter. I love her. And if I remember correctly it wasn't me or Joanne keeping our distance from Kelly. That one was all on you."

Those words shot through Gibbs. He slammed his hands on the table as he got up. Gibbs glared at his father for as long as he could and when the man didn't add to his previous remark, he took himself down to the basement. He wouldn't hear of Kelly being used to hurt him. It was true, Gibbs had kept Kelly away from Shannon's mother and as he didn't get along particularly well with Jackson, he hadn't had much opportunity with the little girl either. But he wouldn't let him use her like that. He let out a long breath which shook his body as he tried to hold back the image of Kelly. He had thought that taking in Ziva would make all those feeling raw but it hadn't. Of course there were times, times when her little voice carrying the word 'daddy' shook him so hard he thought Kelly was there. Ultimately though, being there for Ziva helped him in the fact he hadn't been there for Kelly. He'd been away so much. He was away when she died. When his baby died. And his father had just used her memory to score a point.

Jackson sat shamefully by the table before picking up the Chinese containers. He wasn't sure why he'd said that. He needed to get back. People back in Stillwater depended on him and he'd already spent so long with Ziva and Jethro. After the containers were cleared away he decided to do the bedtime ritual for his son. Not for the first time, he questioned how he would have survived if LJ had gone too when Shannon passed away. He couldn't blame his son for being angry. When he turned into Gibbs' room he found Ziva lying in the bed with a stuffed animal batting its legs back and forth. He plastered a smile on his face and sat down beside her.

"I asked your daddy if I could read you your story tonight. So, what'll it be?"

Ziva turned on her side in the opposite direction. "No, thank you."

"Ziva, what's wrong?" He placed his hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off.

"I heard what you said to daddy."

"It's not nice to eavesdrop."

"And it's not nice to say things just to hurt people."

Sadly, he stooped his head. "I know."

When she didn't respond positively he gave up, said goodnight and kissed her cheek. On his way out he spared a glance back to his sulking granddaughter. She looked nothing like Kelly-where Kelly had pale skin Ziva had a natural tan, Kelly's hair was mousy brown and Ziva's was almost black, Kelly had been tall and Ziva was tiny-but they shared such similarities at times he had to wonder how Gibbs didn't just break down. He hesitated at the stairs as he considered going to apologise to his son however he decided to leave it. Gibbs was a man who had to be left for a time. Something drew him to Kelly's room and he tried the door. It was locked but he ran his hand over the top of the door frame and knocked down the key. Jack assumed it was locked to keep Ziva out rather than adults. The room was a shocking wave of nostalgia for him. It was a pale purple, the colour Shannon had chosen when she was pregnant. There were Strawberry Shortcake dolls scattered where they'd been left on the floor by the window, hair ties and drawings on her desk and her favourite push up pop candy on her bedside table. Nothing had been touched since she died, that much was evident. Something caught his eye on the bulletin board above the desk and he ventured to it. Tacked up, was a fishing hook beside a picture of LJ and Kelly with rods.

"Taught her how to fish that day. She rode a pony the beach in the afternoon." A voice from the door explained. "She asked me if she could keep it, said it was the best day."

Jack pinged the hook with his finger but couldn't pull his eyes away from the sparkling blue eyes of Kelly in the photo. He missed his granddaughter too. He managed to turn around where LJ was standing aside to let him out. He obliged and Gibbs locked the door behind them.

"Think I might be tired." Jack said though he was wide awake and with no desire to sleep. "Night, son."

Gibbs did a double take on Kelly's room. The only thing he'd changed about it since her death were the letters on the door which had spelled out 'Kelly' He'd taken them down and put them on her desk, drew the curtains and locked the door. For now, he returned to the basement where countless hours had been spent drinking away their memory and using hard labour to take away the edge. That had lessened quite considerably in the last few months however now he felt he wanted to. The only amendment he made was drinking himself into oblivion, something he wouldn't do when he would be sharing a bed with his young daughter.

NCIS-NCIS-NCIS

At around three am Gibbs was still working away in the basement. As it was nearing Christmas, he did what he always did. He built toys to take to the children's hospital. There weren't very many yet however he knew they'd accumulate over the next month so he could make a Christmas Eve delivery. The staff there had become very fond of him as was he of them. Something drew Gibbs' eyes up to the door and he caught sight of Ziva watching him from the spot she'd killed Ari. He wondered if she remembered and if it still hurt her. He waved her down because he didn't want to think about it.

"What're you doing?" Ziva asked, now from the bottom of the stairs.

"Nothin' much. What're you doing up?"

"I...could not sleep." Gibbs let her climb up onto his lap and he kissed her crown. She'd had a bad dream, he could tell. "If you and Grandpa Jack stop talking to each other does that mean I wont see him?"

Gibbs pulled away to look into her eyes. "You been eavesdropping?"

"He was mean to you but..." She hesitated but the words then tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them, "Joanne Fielding said the same thing about Kelly and I don't want him to leave forever."

"Grandpa loves you, Ziver. We're gonna visit him again, ok? But he can't come back for the holidays." Gibbs tried to explain.

"But what if you fall out again?" Her doe eyes looked right into his soul, so much that it hurt.

"Ziva...people learn from their mistakes." He admitted. "And hopefully, they don't make them again."

That was why he was there, wasn't it? He had Ziva so he could make up for those mistakes with Kelly and so she could heal from the mistakes her father had refused to fix. It was for the same reason he'd brought Jackson to stay with them. He'd been making too many mistakes and he needed a chance to get things right. Gibbs lifted Ziva up do she could sit on the work bench and then retrieved something from the shelf and handed it to her. It was a small whittled bear which fit almost perfectly in her hand.

"Did you make it?" She turned it over. "It's like Brother Bear."

"Yeah, that was the plan."

"Can you show me how?"

When Gibbs was about six his grandfather had taught him how to whittle and she was familiar with how to be safe with knives. "If you promise to be careful and listen to everything I tell you. But not tonight, sweetpea. Time for bed."

She seemed to accept that and obligingly allowed him to lift her off the bench to the floor. She led them up with the little bear clutched tightly in her fist. He didn't have any suitable children's knives in his possession for obvious reasons. Still, he would buy her one and ensure she could be responsible. Though he was still far from asleep once he'd settled Ziva back in, he decided to get ready for bed anyway. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, he contemplated it all like he had so many times before and as always he came to the same conclusion: if he could just get through each day with reasonable success, then he was doing just fine. He just had to keep trudging along-for her. He did all of this for his Ziver.

The end bit has been gnawing on me since I read 'With Finger Grit' by born30. It's an excellent story currently in progress so I recommend you read it.

As always REVIEW and thank you :)