Rekindling the Flame

Gathering the Matches

Chapter 1 - Gathering the Matches

As Gibbs walked in the kitchen from the garden, he sighed with relief as the cooler air hit him. Putting his cap on the table, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. The last week had seen some unseasonally warm weather and, for the second Thursday in a row, he found himself mowing the lawns yet again. Sitting at the table, Gibbs drank greedily from the bottle relishing the coolness as it quenched his thirst. As he pulled the bottle from his mouth and placed it on the table, the side door opened and two children came in.

"But Tony, the birds have to eat too," said a small girl as she stomped into the house and immediately went to the fridge. Despite being quite tiny for her age, Ziva David was actually five and half years old. Her long curly hair was tied up in a pony tail and her fringe clung to her forehead in sweaty strands. Pushing the offending hair off her face, she grabbed a bottle of water and sat down at the table continuing to glare at the boy with whom she had just entered the kitchen.

He was older than her. With dark hair and large green eyes, Tony DiNozzo would be eleven in only a month's time. As he too grabbed a bottle of water and sat at the table, he lifted his foot onto the chair in order to tie up the annoying shoe lace that kept coming loose. Tony was also on the small side for his age, but he lived in hope for a growth spurt so that others would see that he was nearing eleven instead of often mistaking him for still being nine. Just the other day when they had been shopping at the market, yet another woman had stopped them to talk to their tall, handsome father. On noticing the two children she had exclaimed how adorable they were and then went on to say, 'how old are they, 3 and 9?'. He still smiled when he remembered how Ziva had looked up at the woman with her hands on her hips and loudly declared, 'excuse me Ma'am but I'm five and a half and my brother is nearly eleven. And my Daddy is really old and he's not looking for any new friends right now, so thank you but we must be going.' And with that she had grabbed her father's hand and promptly marched the three of them to the freezer section.

"I know Ziva," continued Tony in a tone of exasperation as he unscrewed the lid of his water bottle. "But, if you put the feeder too close to the tree house, then we end up with bird poop all over the house. Why can't you hang the bird feeder in a different tree?"

"Because, I like it near the house. It makes it look all homely," argued Ziva.

"Well you can clean up the bird poop then! I'm done with that," said Tony crossing his arms. "Tell her Dad please. She keeps hanging the bird feeder outside the house window and there's bird poop everywhere."

Looking at his daughter's stubborn face, he realised he would have more luck convincing her the sky was green. Ziva may be little but she had the determination of a professional athlete aiming for the Olympics.

"Daddy, tell Tony that the birds need to eat too and the bird feeder looks pretty hanging from the window," Ziva said crossing her arms in show of defiance and glaring at her older brother.

"Dad, tell her to hang the feeder from another tree," retorted Tony, not breaking the eye contact he had with Ziva.

"How about both of you start talking to each other and leave me out of it," replied Gibbs.

"I've tried Dad, but she won't listen," complained Tony.

Ziva responded by poking her tongue out at her brother.

"Hey!" admonished Gibbs. "Use your words. We've spoken about this before. Poking your tongue out at someone is rude and disrespectful and I don't want to see it young lady." Gibbs looked sternly at the little girl sitting opposite him. "Understand?"

"Yes," responded Ziva reluctantly.

"Now, Tony has a very good point Ziva. If you hang the feeder too close to the tree house it will get covered in bird poop and that will eat away at the beautiful paint work you did.