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Story Notes:
TW: Incest, and mentions of incestuous pregnancy to come. If you do not like the ship or its content, please do not read; no hate allowed.
Author's Chapter Notes:
When Ziva discovers that her brother is inexplicably alive, things become complicated for the NCIS Agent and the now medical practitioner. So much so, that they enter murky territory. When they cross lines that should never be breached, will the get out unscathed, or will the pair and those around them suffer the consequences of their love crime?
Sitting in the cold interrogation room, Ziva’s hands rested atop the metallic table. She scratched at the spots on her wrists where the cuffs irritated her skin. It was taking far too long for someone to come in and do as the room suggested"interrogate. Whoever it would be who got assigned the task of doing so would find it difficult to make her crack. After all, she did nothing wrong… at least, that’s what her front made it appear. The brunette was all too aware of her crime and all too aware that it was wrong. However, she loved him, and nothing could change that, not even the law.

Ziva chewed at her bottom lip, glancing over to the camera hanging in the corner. It was so familiar, that room. After all, she had performed many interrogations there herself. Allowing her gaze to return to her hands, her fingers traced over the ring which sat on her left ring finger. It was discrete, so much so that hardly anyone thought of it as an engagement ring. Feeling the pleasant metal which contrasted that of the handcuffs restraining her wrists, she smiled at the memory of when it was given to her, and who did the giving.

Just then, the door to the room opened, Tony DiNozzo walking in. Out of all the people she thought would be doing this, she did not expect it to be him. Rolling her eyes, she tore them away from the Italian agent before looking to her lap. Tony, meanwhile, took the chair across the table from her. Ziva had no idea what was going through his mind. She could bet he was confused, upset, angry, and moreover repulsed by this, by all of this. She would not blame him. Any outsider to the situation would feel the exact same way, and that was what he was; an outsider. He could not possibly begin to fathom was it was like for her, and for her supposed partner in crime.

“Ziva, you know I don’t want to do this… but I got to.” He spoke to her as if she were an insolent child who did not know any better. However, Ziva did. She could sense that he did indeed want to ask all these questions, because he, like everyone else, wanted answers. The question remained; would the answers be what he wanted to hear? She doubted that.

“Fine, then; do it.” It was all she could manage to say, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant manner, despite the fact that she was not so. Licking her lips, she could feel them becoming less dry than they were before. Brown hues observed the other agent as he opened the file which held the report, the one in which Ziva’s neighbor had filed against her; and the man who had become her roommate.

“So, let’s start from the beginning.” Tony’s voice echoed out, reverberating off the walls and resounding through the Israeli’s ears. On the other side of the two way mirror, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and the Director, Leon Vance, stood there, watching the interrogation unfolding. “How did you know?”

“How did I know what, exactly?” Ziva retorted, her head canting to the left almost as if to challenge him. She listened to Tony as he sighed in response, thumbing through the pages in the file.

“How did you know that he was still alive?” His question was spoken harshly, through gritted teeth. He hated the man he had mentioned so much that he refused to use his name, almost as if he could not speak it, as if it would leave a burnt taste in his mouth, and Ziva supposed that for him, it would.

“Well, I didn’t for ten years…” She started, her voice trailing off as her eyes drifted off to the right a bit. “Until almost a year ago…”

- One Year Earlier "
It had been a typical day at work for Ziva David, just wrapping up the case she and the rest of her team had been currently working on. A civilian had murdered three petty officers after they raped his girlfriend during Fleet Week. It was a fairly open and shut case, so this left the agent able to go home at six o’clock that evening. A rarity for the NCIS agents, though one she, McGee, DiNozzo, and Bishop all had taken advantage of. Getting to her apartment building, she went up the stairwell, however something felt off as soon as she got to her door.

Pushing aside her jacket to reveal her holstered gun, she gripped onto it quietly as she listened. She heard the sounds of shuffling feet and moving objects. Swearing under her breath in Hebrew, she unlocked the door as quietly as possible. The Sig Sauer had long since been drawn from the holster which contained it. Pushing in the door, she instantly aimed the gun at the back of the head of the person inside her apartment. However, something was off. He was no ordinary intruder"in fact; she swore that she knew this person.

He was tall, considerably more-so than she was. His hair was short, yet well-kempt. He wore combat boots similar to her own, form-fitting jeans, and most eerie of all… a leather jacket that was black with flares of red and streaks of white. If she did not know any better, she would have sworn it was… no, it could not have been. After all, he was dead"long dead… right?
She listened as a thickly-accented chuckle followed the raising of a pair of large, no-longer-calloused hands in a motion of surrender. Ziva’s hold on her gun stiffened; ready to shoot in this thought-to-be intruder would do anything regrettable. That laugh was all-too familiar to her, as if she had heard it dozens upon dozens of times yet she could not place it. Then, it all became clear as he slowly turned around, revealing himself to her.
“I see you have not lost your touch over the years, little sister.”
It was then when Ziva’s whole entire world changed, for the man who had broken into her apartment was none other than Ari Haswari.

Lowering her weapon, Ziva was stunned, to say the least. And who would not be? She thought her half-brother to be dead, she put the bullet through his skull herself, yet there he stood; alive and well. She did not put away her gun though, not quite yet. She was still rather hesitant to believe all of this.

“Ari?” His name came off her lips with sorrowful dismay. Shutting the door behind her in an absent-minded manner, she did not bother to lock it right away. “This… it cannot be possible.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Ziva.” He responded, a smile causing his lips to part and his white teeth to show. Ari then closed the distance between them, and gave her a gentle hug. “I have missed you.”

Her incredulity left her unable to hug him back. She merely stood there, statuesque in her frozen state. Though she doubted it was him, his muscular arms around her waist felt all too familiar. Her mind flashed back through almost every time they ever hugged like this, remembering how it felt exactly as this one did. Could it really have been him? Tears stung in her eyes, one or two manage to slip past her defenses.

With shaky hands, the Israeli situated the Sig Sauer back into its holster, her heart clambering within her chest as if it were a ticking time bomb, gearing to explode in any given moment. Her hands, now free of weaponry, slid around Ari’s frame. She held him as close to herself as she could possibly manage, and then continued to try, rather valiantly, to increase the contact between them, though doing so was impossible. Swallowing hard, Ziva burrowed her face into the crook of her sibling’s neck, letting more tears fall from her tightly-shut eyes. They were hot against Ari’s neck, and he could feel them, along with the small shudders of her shoulders. It was then when he knew that she was crying.

Ari knew that this was quite impossible, him standing there. At least, it was for her. However, it had been his plan all along; his escape plan, that is. Never did the only son of Eli David want to be a part of his plans for him. In fact, he wanted a far different life than the one he was dealt. He wanted to be a doctor, and he wanted to be happy. He wanted to help people, not kill them. There was only one way he could think of to get out of the mess his bastard father had made for him, and to him that meant faking his death.

Ten years had passed since he executed his plan, and he became a rather
successful doctor, working for doctors without borders for many years in Africa. He even received jobs at hospitals in Canada and New York. After giving his notice at New York Mercy, he left the Big Apple and went to Virginia, for he knew there was still one crucial piece of the puzzle that was his life that he felt was missing. It was Ziva. As much as he wanted to separate himself from her in order to give her a chance at a good and peaceful life, he just could not do so; because he loved her far too much to not have her with him, in every sense of the word.

Gently, Ari pulled back from his sister, cupping her face within those hands that had not touched the thirty-four year old in ten excruciating years. It felt as though there had been a void, a deep hole within him that had been missing ever since that fateful night in Gibbs’ basement. Little did he realize was that his younger sister felt the same exact way.

- Present Time "
“I knew nothing of him being alive, and yet… there he was.” She finished
speaking, allowing her eyes to drift from the spot on the wall she had been focusing on, returning them to Tony. His emerald hues held a look of fiery anger, of hatred that could not be rid of, even after ten years. “You wanted the truth, there it is.”

Meanwhile, behind the glass wall which separated the elder men from the two agents, Gibbs’ face held an eerie and all-too-worrisome emotionlessness. Vance, meanwhile, was astounded, to say the least. He had friends in high places, but they all thought the same as he and everyone else. Everybody thought that Ari Haswari was long dead"a dark spot on the history of NCIS, and yet, there Leon was, standing as he listened to the recounting of his reappearance.

Without a word, Gibbs left the observation room to go across the hall, to the other observation room of yet another interrogation room. Ellie Bishop stood there, watching as McGee sat across from the notorious living-dead man. Ari had said nothing of import since Timothy had started questioning him, only witty remarks about how he would never tell, equating himself to that of a magician, and rambling on nonsensically about how everyone had to have their secrets. All the while, he would fiddle with the silver band around his left ring finger.

“He doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere with Dr. Haswari, Gibbs.” Ellie stated, which had no effect on his outward expression but inwardly, he was becoming more and more infuriated by the minute. However, was he really angry about the fact that Ari was still alive; or was he angry because everything that had gone on happened right under his nose, and he did not suspect a thing?

After a few moments, Gibbs decided it was his turn to question Ari about the events of the last year. Leaving observation, he stormed into the interrogation room. Ari turned to look at him, and gave him a polite smirk. While still jaunty as he was before, he seemed to be a changed man. However, none of that could take away from what he did ten years ago. Now that Jethro knew the ex-terrorist was still alive, he wanted to kill the bastard himself.

“McGee, leave.”

“Boss, are you sure that’s such a good idea?” The significantly younger agent responded in a concerned tone of voice.

“I said leave; now!” The senior field agent exclaimed, holding open the door. Once McGee was gone, he slammed the door shut. Sitting down in the pushed back chair, he glared at Ari.

“Having a staring contest, are we?” He smirked, brows furrowing slightly. It seemed that trait was a genetic one, for it was quite similar to the manner in which Ziva would allow her own brows to come together. “You are still angry with me, I see. You know, agent Gibbs; that is not healthy. All those repressed emotions… you are bound for a coronary.”

“ENOUGH!” He shouted, slamming his hand against the table aggressively. It stung; the impact. However, it only affected him for a mere second, not that he cared. All he cared about was answers; or rather vengeance. “You’re going to tell me how the hell this is happening or I put a bullet back in your skull. Choice is yours.”
“So hostile, Gibbs;” the doctor observed; leaning forward in his place to get just a little closer to the man seated before him. “What do you wish to know?”

- One Year Earlier "
Thumbs gingerly brushed away salty tears as a soft and almost reassuring smile came to the forty-four year-old’s face. It was quite contrary to the usual playful and/or sinister grin the tan-fleshed man usually presented to those he came in contact with. This was one look he spared for his sister, and only his sister. Without warning, he leaned close to her and allowed his lips to press against her forehead.

Ziva’s eyes slipped shut in response, savoring that moment as if it would be the last. She felt as though in any moment, she would find herself waking up from this all-too vivid dream. She prayed valiantly that it was not simply a dream, but she was never the type to get her hopes up, nor the type to believe in putting stock into happy endings. Having her brother back, that would have been quite the happy ending to the fucked up fairy tale that was her life.

“Please, tell me I am not dreaming.” Ziva murmured in a barely-audible tone after he pulled away from her, her eyes unable to keep from locking onto her brother’s as she spoke.

“You are not dreaming, little sister.” He shook his head as he spoke, smiling softly to her. It was all very much real, hard to believe but real all the same. Sure, it may not have made sense, but for the moment, it did not entirely matter. “Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat.”

It had been ages since she had eaten something Ari had made, and while he was a great doctor, he was also a phenomenal cook. All she could do was nod in response to his question. Gradually, he pulled his hands away from her face before swiftly traipsing towards the kitchen. Rummaging through the cupboards and fridge, he found a few items that he could make a meal from and began getting out dishes and cooking utensils. It was as if he already knew the place. It was odd, no doubt, yet slightly comforting as well.

Letting her go back slide off her shoulder, she dropped it to the floor beside the door, as she did every time she came home. Locking the door, she took off her jacket and walked to the kitchen, just observing him as Ari prepared their dinner. Ziva remembered doing so in the past, and felt slightly nostalgic doing so in that moment. Turning over his shoulder to look to the brunette Israeli, he grinned.

“How about you have a shower while I cook?” He suggested before returning his attention to his task. Actually, it was not a bad idea. She really needed one after work, and coming home to find her supposedly-dead brother.

“Thank you, I shall.” It was all she said before going across the apartment to the short hallway, which the bathroom was at the very end of. Entering, she shut and locked the door before stripping herself of her clothing and starting the water.

Another thing she feared was that by the end of her shower, she would find herself alone in her residence and that all of it had been a sick hallucination or a daydream and that none of what had just happened was real. However, that was not the case. Fifteen minutes later, she came out of the bathroom in her white bathrobe to smell vegetables and pasta cooking. He was really there, and he was really cooking her dinner, and he was really alive.

- Present Day "
Tony read over the report, his eyes scanning over the title of the charges against both Ziva and Ari. ‘Sex Crime; Incest’. He must have read that line over and over again thirty times before letting his eyes return to his colleague. Disgusted, he could barely keep his eyes on her without picturing it, acts which made him wish to carve out his own eyes. How could she have done this? How could she have slept with her own brother? It appalled him. It sickened him. For most, that would be the normal reaction. However, it just goes to show that humans cannot truly control who they feel for. It’s what one does with said feelings that are under one’s control.

“How;” was all DiNozzo could manage to say after reading the report, or rather parts of it, the parts that stood out; the parts that were, to him, the most heinous.

“How could I… sleep with Ari?” Ziva spoke, her voice difficult to get out through the non-existent lump in her throat preventing her from speaking. “It was not as if I planned it to happen, it just… did… gradually and then all at once.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Like you weren’t in control of the… sex?”

Ziva shook her head. She knew what that situation was like. She knew it all too well, thanks in part to Saleem Ulman and his men back in Somalia during the summer of 2009. This was far different, and far more consensual. She just never meant for this to happen, she never meant to develop feelings for her brother. She never meant to have sex with him. She never meant to like it; and to like it so much that it would happen repeatedly over the span of time between the moment she found out he was alive to the moment she was in right then. However, it did, that and so much more.

- One Year Earlier "

Walking into the kitchen, her robe on and nothing else, she inhaled the aromas of boiling noodles and simmering carrots, green beans, and corn. Licking her lips, she found herself even hungrier than before. Standing beside her brother, she could feel his now bare biceps against the wet tendrils of blackened hair which framed her face.

“That smells amazing.” She mewled contently.

“You smell amazing, as well, dear sister.” He complimented in retort. “Still using apricot shampoo?”

“Yes. I am flattered you remembered.” She replied, glad to be talking with him like this again.

There were several occasions back in her Mossad days when they would be operating a stake out in hotel rooms and she would shower. And, of course, Ari would remark every time about the apricot shampoo she would lather in her hair every time, despite their being hotel shampoos. He would also comment on the Shae Butter lotion she would use on occasion. To this day, she loved hearing him compliment her like that, and she never really understood why. She had no clue at all that it had everything to do with the all-too repressed emotions she held for the man.

“What have you been doing all this time?” The question finally spewed from her lips after several moments of holding it in.

“You mean the last ten years, yes?” He responded, watching her nod. “I have been working in medicine, actually.”

“You have!?” Her eyes widened with astonishment and pride.

“Yes, Zivaleh;” He purred, kissing her cheek before grabbing the shaker filled with crushed red peppers. “And yourself; what have you been doing? Working at NCIS, I imagine?”

“Yes, actually.”

“I am very proud of you, sister.” He whispered against her ear before returning his attention to the cooking. “Go on, now. You should get dressed. It will be a while before I am finished.”

“Alright; I shall. Thank you, by the way, for the dinner. You did not have to go to all the trouble.” Her voice resonated throughout the apartment as she meandered towards her bedroom.

She did not notice that his eyes had wandered towards her, sneaking glances at her tones thighs and lithe calves. As wrong as he knew it was, he did not care in the slightest, not when it came to Ziva. Tearing his eyes away, he focused on the food once more.

In her bedroom, Ziva let loose the tie on her robe before allowing it to fall to the floor. Stepping out of the circle the fabric created, she sauntered towards the closet, leafing through the articles of clothing. Pulling out a black tank top and a pair of old track pants, she put them on quickly before clipping back her hair. Opening the door, she walked out to find Ari setting plates out on the placemats, a large bowl of pasta and a medium bowl of vegetables in the center of the table. Looking up to his sister, he gave her a kind-hearted smile. She could tell in that instant, from the way he smiled, that he had changed, for the better.

“What would you like to drink? I saw you have wine and beer.” Ari questioned before walking up to the brunette NCIS agent. He canted his head slightly as he waited for her response.

“Mm, wine for me; thank you.”

“I thought you might choose that.” He responded, before grabbing the bottle of red wine.

Ziva watched as he poured her a glass before doing so for himself, brows knitting together slightly as she observed the behavior. To her, it seemed to be rather romantic, especially for two siblings sharing a dinner together. However, for the time being, she let it go. Sitting down, she smiled before serving herself a little of each food item.

Later that evening, Ziva sat on the couch, wine glass in hand. The bottle sat on the coffee table she and Ari propped her feet upon. The television was on but neither she nor he was truly watching anything. Turning to Ari, the brunette grinned softly, handing over the remote. She had no idea what to watch, and wished for Ari to have the chance to choose. However, he respectfully decline, leading Ziva to turning it off.

“Do you realize just how much I’ve missed you over the years?” The question came out suddenly, abruptly. “I wracked myself with so much guilt for what I did… or what I thought I had done.”

“I understand, my sweet sister. I’ve missed you, too, but please… please, never feel guilt about this. None of this was your fault; none of it.” He responded before pulling her close to himself, hugging her.

- Present Time "

Ari watched as Gibbs left, obviously upset by the former terrorist’s responses to his questions. However, all he could truly think about was Ziva, and her well-being. Ellie watched him through the glass, unable to believe this. This was not exactly how she pictured spending the day. It was almost exactly like a bad episode of Jerry Springer.

Meanwhile, in Ziva’s interrogation room, Tony closed the file before rubbing his hands over his face. He was tired, but moreover, he was upset. He loved his colleague, and he hoped that one day, she would return the feelings and they would be able to mutually break Gibbs’ rule number twelve. However, he knew now that just did not seem likely.

“You wanted the truth.” Ziva spoke in a barely-audible tone of voice. “Do not get upset because you do not like what you hear. You should not have even been doing this interrogation.”

“I can’t believe you, Ziva!” He exclaimed in a sheer burst of anger, standing to his feet. “He must have you brain-washed or something! I mean, sleeping with your brother? How could you?”

“Brain-washing, yes; that had to have been it. Because, it is completely impossible that we are two consenting adults who just so happen to be related.” Her words held a strong hint of sarcasm. “I am through talking to you, Tony. You’re clearly not objective towards this. I think you should be taken off this case.”

Just then, Leon Vance decided to make an appearance.

“In fact, Agent David, I’m considering taking the entire team off the case.” He spoke, glaring at DiNozzo before letting his deep hues go to the Israeli. “This isn’t a case for NCIS any longer. I’m leaving it to local police.”

“Thank you, Director.”
Chapter End Notes:
TW: Incest, and mentions of incestuous pregnancy to come. If you do not like the ship or its content, please do not read; no hate allowed.
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