A/N: Blame Larkin [heimedall] for this one. I had enough plot bunnies... so she gave me another one. And I just HAD to write it!! Well, I hope you enjoy it. The updates might not be very quick, but I'll do my best!!

Ziva walked off the plane, smiling back at the cheerful air hostess who had served her on her flight from Tel Aviv to Washington DC. She hadn't seen much of DC so far, only from the plane before they had landed and she walked along with the other passengers – most American, returning from their summer holidays – towards collecting her luggage. Her backpack was slung over her right shoulder, heavy from the six books she had read on the plane. Her father had suggested that she should 'try just observing the world from above' but she'd decided on the books instead. After all, oceans weren't so interesting from three thousand feet.

The airport was bustling and languages of all sorts floated around Ziva, some she understood, some she didn't.

"Excusez-moi?" Ziva looked around and a woman with a young girl next to her came into her eyesight. "Savez-vous où la collection de bagages?"

"C'est là que je m'en vais. Vous pourrez suivre," Ziva answered. She was only following the signs to get to the luggage collection point, but unfortunately for the French woman, the signs were in German, Spanish and English.

"Merci, merci," the woman looked relieved, and the little girl looked up at Ziva with a small smile. Ziva guessed she had to thank her father and his obsession with teaching her languages; he had taught her – or had taught to her – English, Spanish, French, German and Arabic. Occasionally it could get a little confusing, but she managed.

The hustle and bustle increased as they neared the conveyor belts as everyone pushed to get their bags first. Ziva hung around the edges; she'd get her bag eventually, it wasn't as if she was in a hurry anywhere.

Sure enough, people started to drift away having gotten their bags, and she was easily able to spot her four suitcases and manhandle them off the conveyor belt. She pulled out the handles of them and awkwardly tried to pull them all at once. She failed miserably.

"Excuse me? Can I help?" Ziva turned to see a tall boy with dark brown hair behind her. His only bag seemed to be a black canvas hold-all slung over his shoulder.

"Thank you," Ziva smiled at him appreciatively and he took two of her suitcases and they began to walk towards the exit.

"You're not American, are you?" the boy asked and she shook her head.

"I am Israeli," she replied with a small smile. The guy grinned.

"Cool! I'm less interesting. I'm from New York," Ziva chuckled and he continued. "I'm Tobias."

"Ziva," Ziva replied and Tobias smiled.

"A pretty name for a pretty girl," he grinned and she laughed.

"Where are you headed?" she asked and he shrugged.

"School," he didn't sound too happy about it. "Naval Academy. All boys."

"Tragedy," Ziva smirked and he rolled his eyes.

"It is too!" Tobias grinned at her. "It's insufferable! They make us wear service dress as our uniform, for heavens sake."

"I have been to an all girls school, that is not so bad," Ziva replied, with a sultry smile. "Anyway, I think you would look rather handsome in dress uniform."

She winked at him and they walked out into the arrivals lounge.

"Are you meeting anyone here?" she asked him and he shook his head.

"No, I'm renting a car and meeting my friend in town before driving to school," he informed her and she smiled.

"I do not think these Americans would appreciate me driving on their roads," Ziva grinned.

"Are you a senior?" Tobias asked her and she raised one eyebrow.

"I have no idea. Back home I was in tenth grade, so I am in eleventh now," Ziva replied and Tobias nodded.

"Miss Ziva, you are a junior," he chuckled and Ziva read the signs people were holding up until she spotted one that read in large, colorful letters:



Ziva laughed as she noticed the girl holding the sign was jumping up and down.

So, this was Abby… Ziva wondered if all American girls wore the same sort of clothes Abby did… certainly no one in Israel would have worn clothes like that. But, she had to admit, this Abby did suit the clothes well. She headed towards her.

"Abby?" Ziva said and the girl brought the sign down.

"Ziva!" Abby exclaimed and hugged her. Ziva went as stiff as a board – hugging wasn't something she was used to, especially from a girl she had just met.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Abby cried. "I've been waiting to meet you for ages!"

Abby noticed the boy standing behind Ziva.

"Toby?" she asked confusedly and Tobias's face morphed into a wide grin.

"Hey Abs. One hell of a coinkidink!" Tobias chuckled and Ziva looked confused.

"What is a quinkaquink?" she asked and Abby laughed.

"A coinkidink. Like coincidence," Abby answered and Ziva nodded slowly.

"Oh… okay," Ziva replied, pretending to understand. Americans sure were odd. She turned to Tobias. "Thank you very much."

"No problem, Miss David. I hope to see you again sometime," Tobias smiled flirtatiously and set her suitcases down before heading off to collect his rental car. Abby bounced up and down again before grabbing Ziva's suitcases and heading off to the outside world. Ziva followed.

"I can't believe you met Toby! That's so weird…" Abby grinned. "Toby's a friend of a senior – a guy I know from school – and they usually hang out together so I've met him a few times."

Ziva nodded.

"Just to warn you – please don't get all creeped out like some people do – but my mom, dad and my brother are deaf," Abby told Ziva quickly and Ziva only just heard everything Abby said.

"That's okay," Ziva smiled reassuringly. "An old friend of mine was blind…"

Abby could tell that Ziva had been going to say something else but had stopped herself.

"And…?" Abby prompted curiously.

"He died," Ziva spoke bluntly. "In an explosion in Haifa."

Ziva ducked her head and Abby's face fell. "Oh… I'm so sorry!" Ziva shrugged.

"It is fine," she answered and bit her lip so she wouldn't be too upset. Abby knocked on the window of a car – her mom would feel the vibration if she didn't see them first – and the doors were unlocked.

"You must be Ziva," Mrs. Sciuto said slowly, trying to pronounce the words carefully but even so it was obvious that she was deaf since birth. It didn't bother Ziva at all.

Ziva signed back 'yes'. Her father had gone through a phase of learning other sorts of language and so for a term she'd been taught Japanese and American Sign Language until her father decided that in the end she didn't need to know those languages.

Now she wished she'd continued learning ASL.

Mrs. Sciuto smiled widely before signing something at Abby that Ziva didn't catch.

"It's nice to meet you," Mrs. Sciuto informed the Israeli exchange student. Abby grinned at Ziva.

"I think this year is going to be…" Abby thought for a perfect adjective. "Awesome."

A/N: Feedback [REVIEWS!] would be much appreciated!