A Bolt of Lightning
Pairing: Abby/Ziva
This is based loosely during the episode "Sharif Returns." The first few lines are from the conversation Abby has with Gibbs during the beginning of the episode.
A/N: I don't pretend to be an NCIS expert, nor a devoted fan. I've seen a few episodes, liked what I saw, and now I'm trying my hand at writing some (hopefully) entertaining bit of fluff for you all. I am simply a humble fan fiction writer, who owns absolutely nothing.
Chapter One:
"I'm thinking about getting a tattoo," said Abby excitedly. This idea had struck her as she had slept night before, but it had not led her to hone in on a particular design. She was simply overcome with the idea that she NEEDED to get one. The feeling had been overwhelming, and Abby was still confused why it had come to her, but she was not at a point to dismiss her feelings.
"I don't think I'm the one to ask about this," Jethro Gibbs started.
"But Gibbs, you know me better than anyone else, and when you're gonna make a decision that's gonna effect the rest of your life you need the person around you that knows you the best for guidance. Please?" She begged, flashing him a small smile.
"Where do you wanna put the tattoo?" He asked.
She blanched. "Ok, you're right; you're not the one to ask." She led Gibbs through the evidence she had processed, and when he had left, she resumed her musings over what tattoo to get. So many looked like they could be for her. But she meant what she had said to Gibbs. She didn't take this decision about what would mar her skin lightly. She had never regretted the few she already had; they complemented her personality perfectly in each case. She sighed and got up. Looking aimlessly on the computer wasn't going to get the workload she had done any quicker. When she actually started in on the large pile of evidence waiting for her attention, the time flew by more quickly.
The shades in her office had been closed all day, and when she finally noticed the slight twinge in her back from bending over a microscope, she strolled over to the line of windows and glanced out. The dark wasn't just beginning; it was settled and pronounced. She was willing to bet her car was the only one still in the parking garage. At the knock on the doorway, she turned around.
Ziva stood there, jacket over her arm, looking, if possible, even more tired than Abby. "I wanted to see if you were down here. I saw your car was still here." She shifted her weight on her sensible heels. Abby looked down to her own feet. She'd ditched the stilettos she wore into the office a few hours back, and traded them for a pair of fuzzy black slippers she stashed behind her desk.
"Just catching up on some work."
"Anything I can assist with?" Ziva asked politely, looking down at her choice of footwear briefly.
"I'm packing it in for the night. There's only so much Caf-Pow on the East coast," She said with an unsteady smile. Officer David's eyes on her usually made her just a little off-balance. True to form, as she strolled back towards her desk, her slippered foot came out from under her and she slammed painfully into the floor.
"Abby," Ziva said, moving quickly to her side and kneeling. "Are you alright?"
Abby sat up, and rubbed her head where it had struck the edge of the rolling chair next to her. Ziva looked alarmed.
"Don't move. You've hit your head, you could have internal injuries," she considered the girl on the floor. "I think we should call an ambulance."
"Ziva, no," Abby pleaded. "I'm fine."
"I am not a doctor, and neither are you." She pulled out her cell phone, but Abby put her hand out.
"Please Ziva. If you insist that I be checked out, then we can go to the emergency room, but don't call an ambulance."
Ziva stared at her for a few seconds. "Fine. We will go to the emergency room. Can you stand?" Abby complied, and Ziva led her towards the door.
"Can I get my boots first?" Abby asked.
"No, the slippers are cute."
Cute? Abby thought, her mind whirring. Was that insinuation under the cool façade, or was Abby having another in her latest stream of pleasant daydreams about the beauty before her? She chose to push the thought out of her mind. "If I played dead, would you give me CPR?" She asked under her breath. Ziva caught the end of her statement.
"CPR is not helpful for skull injuries as far as I can tell." The faintest of grins appeared. "However, if you feel you need some… assistance in that department, perhaps we could work something out." Abby blushed. Ziva turned and led the girl out of the lab, and neither said another word.
As Abby had suspected, the parking garage was nearly empty, except for hers and Ziva's vehicles. She started towards her own, but Ziva stopped her with a tight grip.
"I think it's best if I drive." She tugged on the girl's arm, and they came to a stop beside a non-descript navy blue sedan. Abby looked at it with disdain.
"At least mine has character."
"Yours is a converted hearse."
"See? Plenty of character right there."
"People expect to see the mimes with the painted faces getting out of it with pies in their faces."
Abby gasped indignantly. "A clown car? Take that back!"
Ziva merely glanced her way as Abby fumed. "Abby," she said softly. "That car is perfectly you. And I agree completely with your choice of license plates as well."
Abby shot a glance at her most prized possession, emblazoned with the license plate "HOTGOTH." She started to retort, but Ziva yanked the wheel to the left and Abby's efforts were refocused to holding on.
When they finally emerged from the ER a few hours later, Ziva's smile had retreated to a murderous glare. Abby was talking animatedly, her hands moving with each word.
"It's late, and my place is closer. You can grab a shower there." Ziva shot her a fierce look. "Oh come on, you gotta admit, that little kid was funny."
"I fail to find this situation funny." She looked down to her shirt, covered in sticky apple juice. "Children should be kept caged."
"Aww Ziva, you can't hate children. I'm sure he didn't mean to dump out his bottle on you."
"At the very least, they could buy a leash."
"Well it wouldn't have been so bad if we didn't have another three hours to wait." Abby said, chuckling a little under her breath. "I still think we could have skipped the whole thing."
"What are you talking about? You have a mild concussion. It's a good thing we did go. I hope you have a comfortable bed."
"Inviting yourself over for the night? And into my bed? I have to give you some credit. Most people wouldn't be caught dead sleeping in a coffin. Pardon the bad pun."
"I'm not most people."
Abby stared at her for a minute. "Well, contrary to popular belief, I don't sleep in a coffin."
"And I would really prefer not to sleep in one as well. A bed will suit me just fine."
"I'm the concussed one here." Abby said with a mock annoyed tone.
"I never said you couldn't share it with me." Ziva shot her a look. Abby's mind whirred.
"You only wish you could handle me."
"I could handle you just fine." Ziva's eyes remained focused on the road as she pulled out of the parking lot.
Abby was at a loss for what to say. She settled for silence as they neared her road.
Ziva wasn't sure what she had expected of Abby's dwelling, but it hadn't been the run down warehouse look. The building was cold concrete that looked as if new paint was a very foreign concept. It lacked an elevator, Ziva noted as they trudged up three flights of dingy stairs.
The apartment was dark as Abby opened it with both a key, and a hard kick to the bottom of the door frame. It squeaked as it swung open to allow them in, and hit with a hard thump on the wall behind.
Ziva stopped at the door, hesitant to enter a dark enclosed space. Abby turned back to her, and pulled her by the hand into the apartment. She groped on the wall for a few seconds before finally flicking up the light switch, which Ziva could now see had been obscured by the large black bookshelf it had, apparently, been built into. Ziva had half expected Abby's apartment to mirror the disheveled appearance of the building she lived in, but the officer was pleasantly disappointed.
Abby's apartment had an unmistakable air of dark sophistication. The couches were dark leather, the carpet a deep violet that extended throughout what Ziva could see of the small space. The walls were slightly lighter, making the room seem less cramped, but still had a feeling of mystery. Ziva marveled at the bookshelves which contained what must have been thousands of books, some with worn covers that Ziva moved closer to examine. She couldn't quite make out the titles, and Abby turned the corner and returned to Ziva's side before she had a chance to explore them further.
"So how about that shower?" Abby asked Ziva. For one long moment, her head was bombarded with visions of the two of them, naked and wet, water cascading down them, wrapped tight in each other's arms. A sudden longing nearly overcame her, and she had to physically stop herself from touching Abby when her gaze refocused. Abby was glancing to her with a confused expression on her face. "You ok?" she reached over and ran her hand down Ziva's arm.
Ziva shook off the vision and forced a smile. "Yes, a shower would suit me fine." She followed Abby down the hallway.
The shower was refreshing, and now cooled by the air around her, Ziva wrapped a towel around herself. She smiled at the sound of Abby's voice coming from the living room. She found it simply endearing that she talked to herself. She went to the door and listened more closely. Ziva frowned. It didn't seem as if Abby was talking to herself. Maybe more like someone at the door. Ziva wrapped it tighter around herself. Who would be coming to the door at this time of night? Fear kicked in and she burst through to the living room. Abby stepped towards her, holding a paper bag in one hand. "I was hungry. Hope you like Chinese. Are you ok?" She asked, taking in the look on Ziva's face.
"I heard voices."
"Yeah, it's just Chen Li though," Abby shrugged, taking a step. But Ziva's look didn't fade. "Hey, it's ok. Why are you so jumpy?"
"I'm not jumpy. I am a trained officer."
"You're still jumpy."
Ziva took a breath.
"I'm not moving from this spot and neither are you until you tell me what's going on," Abby said forcefully.
Ziva narrowed her eyes slightly. "You think you could stop me?"
Abby cocked one eyebrow. "It might be fun to try. Are you going to restrain me?" She asked Ziva, tilting her head to the side and crossing her arms above her head.
"Abby," Ziva started. "I… I need to say something." The vision of the girl in front of her was making her breathing labored and her heart speed up.
The Goth blinked, and lowered her arms. She grasped Ziva's hand in her own, and pulled her over to the couch.
Abby waited for a few moments, until Ziva finally spoke.
"I'm going to be blunt. I like you Abby. I have had feelings for you for a while."
Abby was silent. She stared off towards the darkened window, clearly lost in conflicting thoughts.
This internal struggle in Abby was not lost on Ziva. She watched the play of emotions cross the girl's face. Finally, Abby looked up. Their eyes bore into each other's; Ziva's calm, and Abby's with beads of moisture pooling in the corners.
"Abby," Ziva whispered. The girl's glazed look refocused on her. "Why do you cry?"
"I-I'm not sure," she stuttered. Ziva, who hadn't moved, finally leaned forward, wrapping her arms gently around Abby, who melted into her arms.
"I've got you," She whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Whatever it is, it cannot be as bad as you think."
Abby's black mascara ran in twin rivers down her face. She buried herself into the crook of Ziva's neck. She could smell her own shampoo on the other woman, coupled with a spicy scent that had nothing to do with her hair care products. It was uniquely Ziva.
Ziva's hands caressed Abby's back soothingly. When Abby's quiet sobs subsided completely, Ziva spoke.
"Come on, let's make you a little more comfortable." Abby followed her obediently to her own bedroom, coming to rest just before her ornate hand-carved queen sized bed. She made no sound as Ziva motioned for her to sit down.
"You can talk to me," Ziva said simply. Abby's gaze remained fixed at the deep purple carpet beneath their feet. The room was silent for so long that Ziva was surprised when Abby finally did speak.
"I've spent forever looking for someone who was different. I've never been with someone who could make me feel something. I mean, I haven't even touched you, and yet I can like, feel you." Even in the darkened room, Ziva could see her blush. "I'm not sure I'm explaining it correctly."
Abby felt the warmth of Ziva's hand in hers. "You are doing just fine." Abby finally looked up into Ziva's face. "You want more," she continued. "This means more than I could say…"
"I'm sensing a 'but' coming."
"I fail to see how anyone's posterior is involved."
"Nevermind," Abby said, smiling and wiping her eyes. She looked at the agent. "Continue."
"I'm not sure how much I have to give you, Abigail…" She trailed off, and then seemed to gather her thoughts once more. "I gave so much of myself already. There's not much left anymore."
Abby's answer surprised them both. "I'll take what I can get." Her hand reached out and stroked Ziva's cheek gently. Ziva's hand covered hers, holding it in place as her eyes shut. Her voice came out in a wavering low breath.
"You can have everything I have left." Abby gave in to the passion that she had been holding back. Her free hand went around Ziva's waist and she leaned in close. She hovered just inches away from Ziva's slightly parted lips. Ziva opened her eyes to find Abby's looking back into them.
"Are you going to kiss me?"
"Are you sure you want me to?"
"I think I'd die if you didn't," Ziva moaned, and crossed the small space between them to press their lips together.
Abby's eyes closed and she took in the feeling of Ziva's soft lips. Ziva was gentle, but Abby wanted more. She pressed Ziva back with one hand, never breaking the contact of their lips. Ziva moaned again as Abby's soft curves melted into hers. Her hands wrapped themselves around Abby's back, pulling the other woman tightly against her. Abby kissed Ziva's pulse point, making her breath quicken.
Abby's hands, so cautious from her days spent in a lab shook slightly as she made first contact with Ziva's damp skin. The moan she elicited from the agent steadied it, and she leaned in closer, her senses filling with the beautiful woman before her.
Abby didn't usually find herself nervous with new lovers; they were commonplace to her. Plain vanilla and disposable. But Ziva triggered something else. She made the Goth both want to punch her and pull her close.
Ziva wanted more contact, so she flipped Abby off her and took the upper hand. Abby's eyes widened, and a smile came to her face. "You prefer top?"
"I prefer you." Ziva trailed a stream of kisses across her jaw line, moving steadily downward, until she reached the collar of Abby's shirt. She looked up at Abby hungrily, but Abby didn't take pity on her.
"Tell me what you want."
"You," she muttered. "Off." She pulled at the hem of Abby's shirt, her mind no longer creating coherent sentences. Abby smiled.
"I'm not doing your work for you."
Ziva took it as an invitation. She nearly tore the thin garment from Abby's body in her haste to remove it. In the end, Abby pulled it up over her head, dropping it gently to the side. Ziva returned to her exploration of Abby's silky skin, kissing every inch of the girl in front of her.
She slowly ran her fingertips along the skin of her taut stomach. Reaching the button and zipper of the dark pants Abby wore, she released them without a second thought. She tugged off the pants and panties of the girl in front of her in one quick move, and marveled at the sight before her. Abby drew in a shaky breath which Ziva smirked at.
"Now tell me what you want." Ziva threw back at the shaking girl. Abby sat up, pushing Ziva away from her slightly, and grasping the officer's hand. She reached behind herself with Ziva's hand and placed it on the clasp to her black lacy bra.
"Off." She breathed, kissing Ziva soundly. Ziva complied instantly, and the bra joined the growing pile of Abby's discarded clothing. Abby lay back down, staring up at the officer, waiting for her next move. Ziva said nothing, just gazed down at her with hunger written in her eyes.
"How is it that the towel you have wrapped around yourself still hasn't fallen off?" Abby asked, toying with it as Ziva shivered with delight. "It basically defies the laws of physics."
"Well we can't have the laws of nature called in to question."
Abby tugged the end free. "Hello gravity." It landed on the dresser as Abby threw it haphazardly away.
The Goth took in the sight of Ziva's completely naked form. "You're gorgeous," she stated simply, running her hand down Ziva's hips. She arched her back with delight at the feel of those fingers inching their way closer to where she needed them most. Ziva was still straddling Abby's hips, and the angle made any touching impossible. Abby noticed this and twisted to throw Ziva off her and on to the bed. Abby's body instantly covered hers; one leg nestled between Ziva's.
Abby's moist center connected with Ziva's strong thigh, and both moaned at the contact. Ziva tightened her grip around the girl, pressing her leg up more tightly against Abby.
"Don't stop," Abby begged. Ziva didn't disappoint and replaced her leg with her hand. Abby gasped at the sudden ecstasy that filled her. Abby shifted slightly so she could reach Ziva, but the agent stopped the Goth's hand and shook her head.
"No, beautiful," she said quietly. "This is about your pleasure." She kissed the hand in her grasp and Abby visibly relaxed.
Ziva used her leverage to flip Abby on to her back. Abby's kiss was insistent, her tongue tangling with Ziva's. Her arms were tightened around the other woman, holding on to Ziva as a drowning swimmer might cling to a lifejacket. She felt as if she was falling fast, and clung to the other woman instinctively. Ziva whispered soothingly into her ear, pressing gentle kisses on her temple.
"Ziva," Abby moaned. The officer pressed deeply into her, making her gasp. Ziva gazed down at the beautiful woman beneath her. Abby's eyes were shut tight and her face was flushed.
"Open your eyes, Abby," Ziva breathed. Abby complied instantly, locking gazes with Ziva. She leaned down and brought their foreheads together. "I've got you," she softly whispered to Abby. "It's ok to let it out."
Abby's breathing sped up with the pace of Ziva's insistent hand. The officer wasn't forceful; nor was she gentle. Abby met each of her thrusts and fused their lips together.
Abby's nails dug into the skin on Ziva's bare back, but the officer barely registered the feeling. "Don't stop," Abby pleaded, although stopping was the furthest thing from Ziva's mind.
Abby's breath came out in a rush as her arms slacked and released. Ziva softly eased back off of the slightly shaking girl, but Abby pulled her back to rest on top of her sweat soaked body.
"No, don't move," Abby commanded. Ziva lightly kissed the girl's forehead and smoothed back her unruly dark hair.
"Wow," Abby said after minutes of silence had passed. "That was… Wow."
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Ziva smirked, settling in more comfortably. She reached over and linked her hand with Abby's. Time passed in warm comfort with Ziva's hands slowly caressing the other woman's skin.
"You're like lightning," Abby said suddenly.
Ziva reluctantly lifted her head from its relaxed position on Abby's chest. "I'm not sure I understand the metaphor."
"Because you hit me fast, but I can still feel the shockwaves." Abby looked down at her with smiling eyes. Ziva grinned back.
"Well that is a new description. But a fairly accurate one." She placed a gentle kiss on Abby's waiting mouth, and settled back into her previous location. She could hear the girl's heartbeat, and she tried to keep her eyes open just so she could watch over the now sleeping Goth, but after a few minutes, the effort became too much, and she, like Abby, succumbed to the lure of sleep.
In the morning, Abby awoke to the smell of pancakes. Food this early was something different, but if the delicious aroma was anything to judge the taste by, she was sure it was a change she could much enjoy. Slipping Ziva's white dress shirt over her head, she padded through the apartment to follow the lure of what she sincerely hoped was her breakfast.
Ziva stood at the stove, her back to the doorway, humming loudly as she flipped a pancake. Clad only in her bra and panties, Ziva made Abby stop short as she gazed at her. Her back was to the Goth, and Abby admired her lithe form.
"See something you like?" Ziva asked, not turning around.
"How did you know I was here?" Abby asked, surprised.
"I know everything."
"Cocky," Abby remarked.
"It's part of my charm." Abby stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the other girl.
"You are charming." She kissed Ziva gently on the cheek. She pulled back and took a seat at her cluttered kitchen table.
"It's early." Abby groaned. "I could have slept for at least another hour." Ziva smiled at her.
"But then you wouldn't get this breakfast I'm making for you."
"Ok, so breakfast and then back to bed?" Abby asked hopefully.
"No," Ziva retorted. "Breakfast and then work." She placed a plate in front of Abby, sitting down across from her.
Abby frowned. "Grr."
Ziva's smile widened. "You growl too? I'll have to keep that in mind." She took a bite. "Mmm, not bad."
"Not bad? More like excellent. A girl could get used to this," Abby said, pouring syrup over the pancakes. They were silent for a few minutes as each continued eating. When Abby finished, she stood.
"You do dishes too right?" She asked teasingly.
"Perhaps. If I had the right motivation."
"I need a shower," Abby said.
"Fine, I will wash them this time."
"Well, I was going to invite you. But if you'd rather wash dishes…"
"I accept your invitation." She grabbed Abby's hand and dragged her off to the bathroom, leaving the dishes untouched in the sink.