Indolent

When Ziva was first placed into the holding cell, she leaned indolently against the wall. She was sure that her father and Vance would finish talking soon and she’d be released within minutes. There didn’t even seem to be a point in sitting down. Not that the seats in the holding cell were all that great anyway. A simple stone bench attached to the wall that couldn’t even be moved and doubled as a cot for overnighters.

After a couple hours passed, the previously indolent Ziva banged on the wrought iron cell door trying to attract someone’s attention certain that her father had already arranged for her release and that it was just held up in paperwork or a joke someone was playing on her or something. The guards had been given instructions to ignore her and let her stew, but one of the guards decided to investigate anyway.

When the guard showed up, Ziva demanded. “Let me out, this instance. You have no right to hold me here.”

“I can’t do that. Vance ordered you locked up.” The guard made an I’m sorry, but what can you do gesture.

“Well check again. I’m sure he’s changed his mind by now.” Ziva demanded.

“Vance has gone home for the day with strict orders not to bother him unless it’s an emergency and you, my dear, are definitely not an emergency.” The guard smirked at her and started to leave.

Ziva growled and threw one of her hidden knives at him in frustration. He dodged easily and caught the knife as he walked away. “This is a complete injustice. You’ll regret this when my father finds out what you’ve done.”

“I don’t think so. Enjoy your cell.” He whistled as he returned to the table with the other guards.

Ziva roared with rage kicking the wall with her booted foot in frustration. But no matter what she did the guards ignored her the rest of the evening.