Title: Better Than Ice Cream
Pairing: slight McGiva (more friendship)
Rating: K
Genre: Friendship, Flangst
Cat: Gen
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Ziva has a bad day and McGee knows just what to do to cheer her up.
Author's Note: I wanted to write something McGiva last night, so I asked for a prompt on Tumblr & ended up getting 2 responses from Twitter friends, haha. And then one on Tumblr this morning. But this was the second prompt I was given (because I got a genre from her first). She gave me "ice cream" as a prompt.
Ziva pulled the tub of ice cream from her freezer, thunking it down on the counter with a sigh and closing the freezer door. Sometimes she wasn't sure why she bothered. Today was another day she wished had never started. Everything had just gone badly from the moment she woke up late to when she finally left work, after virtually an entire day of paperwork and Tony's juvenile jokes.
She pulled out a stool and plopped down on it, opening the tub and stabbing a spoon straight into it. Cookie dough. She hadn't really understood the habit of eating junk food for comfort until she moved to the US, but now . . . It just made her run harder the next morning.
As she raised another spoonful of the sweet treat to her mouth, a knocking sounded at her door. She groaned and swore under her breath, hoping they would just go away. She was notin the mood for company right now.
But they didn't go away. Instead, the knocking grew louder.
She closed her eyes and rolled her neck, waiting for them to either go away or say something. Her phone vibrated next to her then and she slapped at it, meaning to turn it off, but pausing when she saw who it was.
McGee.
What did he want? He wasn't the type to call her, normally, and they weren't on call, so it wasn't a case. She picked up after a moment. "Yes?"
"I knew you were home."
She sat up straighter. "That is you outside?"
"If you had opened your door, you'd know that already."
Ziva huffed. "Perhaps I did not want company tonight."
"You say that now . . ."
She huffed again and stood up, walking over to her apartment door and unlocking it before opening it, then making a show of ending the phone call. "May I help you with something, McGee?"
"No, but . . ." He held his hand out to hold the door open before Ziva could shut it on him. "Maybe I can help you."
Ziva attempted nonchalance, but couldn't hide her interest. "What do you mean by that?" she asked.
He shrugged. "It seemed like you were having a bad day. I thought I'd come by, see if I could cheer you up . . ."
He found his words trailing off as Ziva was suddenly pressed against his chest, her arms around him and her nose buried in his shirt. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, waiting for the moment to pass.
After a few beats, Ziva backed up, running a hand over her hair. "Sorry," she said, not quite meeting his eyes.
"No, it's okay," he said. "I like hugs." He leaned in as if to tell her a secret. "Especially from super sexy special agents."
Ziva's head shot up and her mouth fell open in surprise at his candidness, but she soon found herself smiling. "I . . . Thank you." She shook her head clear, then looked up at him again. "I will have to keep that in mind."
He smiled at her. "So, can I come in, or do I have to compliment you again?"
"Oh!" She stepped aside to allow him entrance, as he laughed softly, making her frown ever so slightly. She wasn't used to people throwing her off like that. Especially when the "people" was McGee.
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything important," he said, wandering through her living room, his tone light.
Ziva closed the door and ran up behind and around him, capturing her ice cream container. "Oh, but you did," she said, holding the tub in his direction. "Cookie dough."
He nodded, glancing down at the somewhat proffered treat. "Clearly I did interrupt. You might want to put that back in the freezer."
Ziva looked down and saw that he had a point - her once semi-solid ice cream now resembled more of a creamy soup. She growled and tossed the container back on the counter, mumbling, "I do not know what else could go wrong today."
McGee laughed softly. "It's just ice cream, Ziva. Come on, I'll take you out and buy you a cone."
She shook her head. "I do not think being in public right now would be a good idea. I am likely to murder someone before the night is over."
He got a disturbed look on his face. "Maybe I should leave, then . . ."
Ziva shook her head. "No. I would not kill you, McGee." She smirked at him. "You said I was sexy."
He shrugged. "Probably hasn't stopped you before."
She snorted. "True. But they are usually not so cute." She paused, then gave him a soft smile. "Thank you for coming over to cheer me up. I thought I did not want company tonight, but you have proven me wrong."
"That's because I know you, Ziva," McGee said, his expression serious, yet warm. "You might act like you're a big hard ass, but you're not. You've got a soft side."
"Says who?" Ziva asked, sounding offended.
He couldn't hold back the grin. "Says the hug you gave me about five minutes ago."
She narrowed her eyes at him and he continued to grin at her, his grin turning into a pout when she didn't smile back. Finally, she let out a breath and said, "Would you mind . . .?"
"Not at all," he finished, stepping closer to her and wrapping his arms around her. She sighed into his shirt and hugged him tighter.
"Thank you, McGee," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. "I needed this."
"Sometimes we all need a hug, Ziva," he responded, resting his chin briefly on top of her head.
She nodded her agreement, then pulled her head away to look him in the eye. "And you know what?" she said, and grinned as he waited for her to continue. "This is much better than ice cream."
He returned the grin and squeezed her again. "Couldn't agree more, Ziva. Couldn't agree more."
THE END!