I figured if I was going to write a drabble, I'd better do it right. 100 words exactly. Enjoy.
Ziva is aware of rain smattering against the window. She is aware of the heating system's gentle hum as it kicks on; the whispers of the blankets around her as she shifts positions. In fact, she is acutely aware of everything because that is how she was trained. At times, Ziva wishes she could be blissfully unaware because awareness brings pain. But this is not one of those times. Ziva treasures Abby's soft footsteps; the cold air that creeps beneath the sheets as she slips into bed. She treasures the warmth, comfort, and love, and then: she treasures her awareness.
