Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with NCIS. I just like messing with the characters. No infringement intended. Any mistakes are mine, due to having no beta.

Summary: 3x12 'Boxed In': Tony wants to know how Ziva got friction burns on her knees. Abby knows. Ziva remembers.

Author's Note: I watched this ep the other day and Tony's query got me thinking, and this is what came from it. Actual episode dialogue is taken from as I can't remember exactly how it went and this episode got deleted from my recorder. It should be right though. I know it's not brilliant but it's my first Zabby and my first femmeslash so be nice to me!

Not Enough Space on the Couch

'Friction burns?' Tony asked, noticing the marks on Ziva's knees.

'Yeah, what difference does it make?' Ziva replied.

Tony grinned. 'Ah, it doesn't. I was just wondering how you got 'em.'

'Well, if you live long enough maybe I'll tell you someday.'

And that, Ziva thought, would be a story Tony won't forget.

-x-

Ziva's dinner party had been a success. As far as she could tell, everybody had enjoyed themselves, and the food had - in her opinion, at least - been delicious.

'I'll stay and help you clean up, Ziva,' Abby offered.

'Thank you, Abby,' Ziva smiled. There was a lot of washing up to do, and Ziva couldn't say no to Abby's company. Since the two of them had gotten over their differences they'd fallen into something of a relationship. Ziva couldn't get enough of Abby. She was so intoxicating, just the thought of her made Ziva tingle.

Ziva clicked her apartment door closed as the other guests left and turned to find Abby right behind her, an impish grin on her face.

'That was quite a party, Zi,' Abby said.

'It is nice to be alone though,' Ziva smiled, pulling Abby into a kiss. The Goth's lips were soft beneath her own, her hands tangled in Ziva's dark hair as they pressed against one another. Abby let out a soft moan as Ziva's hand drifted beneath her skirt, her caramel skin warm against Abby's pale.

Abby's hands met the hem of Ziva's t-shirt, dragging it upwards and over the Israeli's head. Together the two of them stumbled towards the couch and tumbled onto it. Ziva straddled the Goth's thighs, her deft fingers making light work of the buttons on her blouse. She bent her head to trail kisses up Abby's stomach to the valley between her breasts.

'There's not enough space on the couch for this, Abigail,' Ziva said, solemnly, raising her head to meet the Goth's green eyes. In a swift move, the two women slid from the couch to the floor. Ziva resumed her position across Abby, but slid lower so she could gain access to the places she really wanted. Her knees scraped slightly on the carpet but she hardly noticed the pain of the burns that would adorn her knees later.

Ziva's fingers found the lace of Abby's panties and sent a shiver through the Goth's body as they reached her damp centre. Abby let out a throaty moan as the Israeli teased her; thumbing her clit and drawing little moans and whimpers from her lips. She thrust two fingers inside, and muffled Abby's cries with her mouth as her climax hit her. Abby's body shook beneath the assassin, her breath coming in little gasps as she tried to regain control.

'Is that some kind of trick you learn in Mossad, Zi?' she joked. 'Some kind of elaborate torture?'

'Not at all, Abs,' Ziva chuckled. 'This trick is all yours.'

-x-

'You know, I can only think of two ways,' Tony said, thoughtfully. 'Were you and McGee and Palmer playing Twister?'

Ziva raised an eyebrow. Keep wishing, Tony, she thought.