Summary: Abby and Ziva have a sleepover in Abby's lab, and they get to talking about Tony.
Disclaimer: Even though I don't own NCIS, I own that pouch of nail polish in Abby's hands, and I don't care what anyone says. *Stands my ground.*
Spoilers: General NCIS.
Dedication: Nikki 姐! This is for you!^^ Sorry, this is as close to Ziva-gushing as I can write. Haha.
What? It's Abby. Lol. It isn't that weird if they're having a sleepover in her lab, and it's even less weird that she managed to convince Ziva to paint her nails. Or maybe it is. On that note, I rarely write Abby/Ziva friendship, so I hope this isn't too OOC. Read, enjoy, review, please!
-Soph
Calliope
"What is that?" Ziva eyed Abby suspiciously as the goth appeared from her weapons lab carrying a small velvet pouch in the palm of her hand.
"Nail polish," Abby answered cheerfully, sitting down cross-legged opposite Ziva and pulling a bottle of blood red nail polish from the pouch. Ziva carefully kept her hands hidden, as if she were expecting the black-haired scientist to suddenly attack her.
"You are not colouring my nails, yes?"
"I am. Oh c'mon, Ziva, you never colour your nails!"
"I am not…of the nail-polishing type."
"Well, you can always start! It's fun; you look down and there your nails are, all pretty. Mine make me feel so much happier when I'm having a bad day."
"Blood red nails make you feel happy?" Ziva asked sceptically.
"Do you know me at all?"
Ziva sighed. "Fine. Can you paint my toes instead?"
"But you won't see them with your shoes…okay, I'll paint your toes." Abby had the lid of the bottle unscrewed before Ziva could change her mind.
The lab was silent as Abby painted, surprisingly skilled for someone who was going by the light emitting from the refrigerator alone. Ziva watched as Abby started on the fourth toe of her left foot.
"Just out of curiosity, why do you have nail polish in your weapons lab?"
"I don't remember," Abby replied absent-mindedly, concentrating on her hand movements. "I think I was experimenting on them or something and kept them in there afterwards…"
"This does not have any strange chemicals in it, does it?"
"No, of course not. I only took out a drop or two." Abby looked up at her friend, her expression so abruptly impish that Ziva was seized by an immediate urge to withdraw her foot. "I bet Tony would like to see your nails all pretty."
Ziva blinked. "Tony? What does he have to do with anything?"
"It was just a random thought. You think we don't notice when you're trying to get his attention, but we do." Abby resumed her painting.
"Who is 'we'?" Ziva asked cautiously.
"All of us. Timmy, Gibbs, Ducky, even clueless Palmer. The janitor knows, probably."
Ziva frowned. "I do not try to get Tony's attention."
"Yes, you do. You're always touching him and leaning over him and standing oh-so-close to him-"
"Abby!"
"What? It's true! Timmy and I think it's cute." Abby's grip tightened around Ziva's foot as the olive-skinned woman tried to pull away. "Believe me, you won't want to be walking around with four-and-a-half painted toenails. There's nothing wrong with trying to get his attention, Ziva."
Ziva sighed and relinquished her foot to Abby's control. "I do not want to get his attention."
"Why not?"
"Because! He is…Tony."
"Yeah. So?"
"I just…I do not know how to explain this. He is…he is…Tony. You know, he brought me back from Somalia. But…he is so annoying on a daily basis."
Abby chuckled. "Annoying is not all you think of him, Ziva."
"No." Ziva fell quiet and thought for a long moment as Abby started on the other foot. She leant against the refrigerator door. "It is not."
"I still don't get it; why don't you want to get his attention, again?"
She shrugged vaguely. "I do, but I do not. Do you know what I mean?"
"Ducky wouldn't know what you mean, and he's the psychologist."
"I mean he – Tony – is…I mean…well, I…"
"Am afraid you won't get his attention after all?" Abby finished perceptively.
"Not really. More like, I do not know what I would do with his attention once I have gotten it."
"Well, are we talking long-term or short-term here? Cause short-term is easy; all you have to do is wait for him to be distracted by something else, which would be really very quick because he gets distracted by everything."
Ziva laughed. "I would have to agree with you on that."
"But you find it endearing." Abby chortled at Ziva's expression. "Oh, admit it! I see you trying so hard not to smile each time he goes into one of his movie re-enactments when you're both in my lab. You clearly love when he does that."
"It is very entertaining," Ziva admitted. "I like that he is passionate about some things."
"Like baseball." Abby giggled, and Ziva smiled.
"Like baseball." She chewed on her lip, and she sounded far away when she continued. "I love watching him watch movies."
Abby's eyes widened so much that Ziva thought they would fall out of their sockets. "Did you just say what I think you did?"
"Yes, but I will not say any more."
"No, Ziva! You must say more! Please. It's like you're my real life fairy-tale couple. I get my fluff fix from you, like I get my caffeine fix from Caf-Pow! You must tell me," Abby declared.
Ziva raised her eyebrows incredulously. "Your fluff fix?"
"Sure! I need my daily dose of happy gooey sweet romance."
"You think Tony and I have a happy gooey sweet romance? Are you having a fever, Abby?"
"No, I just see things others don't. Like how you smile when he goes into his movie re-enactments. Are you going to tell me about watching him when he watches movies or not?"
"You make me sound like a stalker, Abby! I simply…enjoy seeing his face light up when he watches a movie; he is captivated by everything that goes on onscreen, and that has a charm to it. It makes me feel happy and safe; like the world is a good place."
"I can understand that," Abby replied.
"Does that mean you-"
"No! Of course I don't watch him when he watches movies. I'm not the one in love with him."
Ziva stiffened. "I am not in love with him."
"All done." Abby laid Ziva's foot down and re-capped the nail polish, putting it back in the pouch. "There's nothing wrong with being in love with him either, Ziva."
"Yes, but I am not."
"If that's the case, can I ask you something?"
"You may, but I might not answer."
"Why do you want to get his attention?"
"Because…" Ziva paused. She looked away, and her voice was very small when she finally answered, "Because I am in love with him."
It took more three-fourths of Abby's self-control not to squeal, and all of it not to do more than blink as if it weren't news of earth-shattering importance.
"I am tired. Can we go to sleep now?" Ziva tucked her feet back under her body and stared at Abby, the part of her face that wasn't in shadows unreadable.
Abby came back to her senses. "Oh. Yeah." She grabbed the pouch of nail polish and got up, still swallowing her squeals. Ziva unrolled the sleeping bags while Abby headed to the weapons room, and was already in one of them by the time she returned. Abby got into the other one and turned onto her side to face her friend. "What would you do if you had his attention, long-term?"
"Abby, can we not talk about this?"
"Please answer. I was just wondering."
"I do not know. Keep it, I guess."
"What if I told you that you already had it?"
"Then I would definitely not lose it."
She frowned in puzzlement. "You really don't think you have it, do you?"
"No, I do not think so."
"Well, I think you do." She flipped over onto her back, a self-satisfied smile on her face. "You don't notice, but he gazes at you like you're some kind of goddess. Ooh! Calliope, the Greek muse! Yeah, that's what he sees you as."
"I kind of doubt it, Abby."
"Well you can choose not to believe me, but you can't choose not to believe the tapes that come from the cameras I have hidden all around the lab. I had them installed after crazy stalkers and lab assistants; you can never be too careful. But unfortunately for Tony that means I've got his every adoring look captured on film. Hmm. That's really worth my money. Anyway, I'll show them to you tomorrow. Goodnight, Ziva."
"Goodnight, Abby." Ziva settled into her sleeping bag and stared into the darkness, barely daring to hope that she had the attention of the man with whom she was in love.
Calliope? She wouldn't mind being called that by him, after all.