"Well? What do you think?" Her voice was three octaves higher than usual and oozed with rambunctious delight. Gibbs cleared his throat nervously as he looked at the less than impressed looking victim, her plea for help shining clearly in her eyes. Abby gazed between the two of them breathlessly, her hands clasped tight with delight. Ziva sat between them, effectively bound in her seat, as her identity had been stripped from her. Her hair was no longer curly and wild; it was straight and sleek, hanging down her back like a waterfall. Her eyes were no longer natural and unmarked; they were now adorned with a streak of something here and a streak of something there. She was paler and yet more rosy than ever before. To an outsider, she might have looked like a well made up, beautiful lady. Perhaps an accountant or a lawyer.
To Gibbs…she just looked like somebody else.
Someone he'd never even met.
"Uhh….very nice," he said uncertainly, trying not to offend either of them. "What's the occasion?" He frowned. "More importantly what's the occasion that's taking up time in the middle of the work day for…uhm, this?" Abby growled as Ziva nodded fervently at the inferred time wasting. "Gibbs! Don't you ever listen to me? Ziva has a hot date tonight, and we were just trying out a new look for her." She beamed. "And I think we've found just the right one. Don't you?" Gibbs swivelled back sharply from his attempt to escape the lab and clutched his coffee tightly. "Date?" he echoed curtly, "With whom?"
Ziva swatted Abby's attempts at more mascara application away and shrugged.
"You do not know him." She snorted. "I do not even know him. This is a bad idea."
Abby mewled.
"No it is not Ziva. You need to get back out there. You're like a sixty something trapped in a thirty something's body. You have got to socialise. Preferably with members of the opposite sex." She shrugged. "Or members of the same sex. Whatever you're into. Me personally, I like to sort of keep my options-"
"Abby!"
She rolled her eyes at Gibbs' tortured voice and sniggered. "You're such a prude, my silver fox, but it's the twenty-first century and Ziva needs to live in it. Now, do you think you're going to need morning after attire Ziva? Because I have a little black dress that I think-" Gibbs grunted in indignation. "Hold up. You haven't answered my question yet. I don't care if I don't know him, I'd still like to know about him." He focussed his attentions on Ziva. "Name? Age? General description and background status?"
Ziva blinked before rolling her eyes.
Her patience with the whole "date situation" had been already snapped up by Abby's makeover.
"I do not have his file at hand," she snapped waspishly, "He is just some guy and I might not even go now because you are all making such a big deal about it." Gibbs blinked, hurt. "I just want to make sure he's not some psychopath," he grunted softly, "Is that so wrong? Wanting to make sure he's not some psychopath?" Ziva glared. "I have been trained to identify psychopaths since I could walk," she hissed, "I am more than capable of determining if the man I choose to…socialise with, is afflicted with such a mental disorder." She rose from the chair, secretly pleased with the way her hair fanned out gracefully behind her. Abby beamed at her friend's not so subtle pleasure.
"I am going now."
Gibbs narrowed his eyes.
"I don't remember saying this work day was done."
Ziva and Abby swelled with indignation in tandem. Gibbs held up a silencing hand as the lab rat opened her mouth to vent at him. Ziva was therefore afforded the opportunity to announce her disgruntlement. "Gibbs. We have no active case, we are essentially doing nothing up there. There is no reason for me to be here. It is nearly six o clock and you're saying that I cannot go?" He swilled some coffee and tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm saying you can't go until you make the promise." Abby's ire turned into amused fondness as she sniggered. One look from Gibbs however had her swallowing that snigger and murmuring about a Caf-Pow refill. As the doors swooshed upon her exit, Ziva rolled her eyes. "Really? Are you serious, Gibbs?"
He nodded without missing a beat.
"As a heart attack."
She threw her eyes up to heaven once more and sent a ruffling sigh throughout the lab. Knowing when arguments were futile she caved. "Alright alright," she hedged grudgingly, "I promise to call you if he's a creep and I promise not to kill him because American jail is more permanent than I realise." She threw her hands up as a small smile spread across his face. "Well? Are you happy now? He is not a creep and I am not a murderer…ok?" She hesitated for a moment with a small shrug. "Well…I am not going to be a murderer tonight, is that good enough?" He threw back some more coffee and contemplated for a moment.
"I suppose it is."
She smiled that smile he loved and threw her head towards the door. "Now that you are satisfied, can I finally go?" Smirking, he nodded and side stepped out of the way. As she made to pass him however, he reached out a gentle hand and caught her in her tracks. Tossing his empty cup in the trash, he turned her to the side with ease and before she knew what he was doing, landed three or four hard swats on her well presented rear end. Her surprised yelps were muffled as he pulled her in for a hug and planted a soft kiss on the top of her head. "Next time I tell you to work cold cases, I expect you to work cold cases. I don't expect you down here, having beauty time. You understand?" She grunted mutinously into his chest but nodded with a small smile he could feel if not see.
Releasing her, he raised a brow and read the unfairness on her mind.
"Abby's getting the same when she gets back."
She opened her mouth to argue, but the mildness of it had her shutting it with a sigh. She looked towards the door and made to walk out it, but couldn't. She froze, looking uncertainly down at herself. Resting a hand on her shoulder, Gibbs reached around her and yanked a pack of the ever present wet wipes off of Abby's table. Fishing one out and handing it to her, he quirked a brow as he determined her issue before she did. "You want this guy to see the real you, don't you?" He looked at her fondly. "This is not the real you kiddo, you don't need all that war paint. Let him see you for you and if he doesn't like it…then he's an idiot that needs to find himself a Barbie that drinks diet frigging water."
He wiped a smudge of mascara away from under her eye as she smiled that rare smile at him.
The smile she only smiled when they were on a one-on-one basis.
The lopsided smile.
"You think I am more of a uhh… G.I. Joe?"
He snorted and shook his head, tucking her under the chin.
"No. I think you're someone much, much fiercer than that. I think you're Ziva damned David."
….
A/N: Random fluff.
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