(A/N and Disclaimer: I own nothing connected to NCIS. Nada. ¿Vale? Gracias.
I'm not dedicating this to anyone because the person who I would dedicate it to is more than likely going to hate me by the time she finishes reading this. Sorry - multiple times. You can kill me, si quieres, but don't hate me...please...)


Everything stopped, just for a fraction of a second. Even the beat of Abby's heart, which she could feel through her jacket as the pair of them held each other, seemed to still for a moment. She was rendered speechless. The breath she had been about to take caught in her throat. Whatever she had been about to say was irrelevant. Whatever she had expected her to say into the silent moment after their kiss, it hadn't been...well, that.

The realization that they had never said that face-to-face before had shocked all sense right out of her mind. Then again, the logical part of her mind reminded her, it was just another event to add to the list of things she never imagined she would be doing. Least of all with Abby. Goth-inclined forensic scientists and hard-as-nails Mossad liason officers just weren't meant to fall for each other - least of all when both of them were female.

But to hell with that, thought Ziva. Since when have me and Abby been anything near normal? Is that even possible around this woman?

Ziva had even surprised herself with the range of emotions she had not only experienced, but managed to put into coherent words (other than trying to do so, then giving up and kissing Abby mid-sentence instead) since the beginning of her and Abby's relationship. For someone who had previously been renowned for having no emotions that couldn't be expressed with a throwing knife; she was pleased with the way she had handled the cocktail of feelings that being with someone as unique as Abby had presented her with. Nobody had lost eyeballs, and she hadn't given Abby reason to finish with her as of yet (as far as she knew). Even DiNozzo had to admit she was doing well - for Ziva David.

And now...

Her eyes burned unexpectedly, and she swallowed to try and get rid of the sudden constriction in her throat. It was one of the few things her and Abby could have in common without arguing about it - the fact that neither of them cried. Ever. And if she absolutely had to cry; why the hell was she crying now? Her eyes stung again, partly from the cold wind blowing around them and mostly from sudden emotion. Damn, she thought, blinking hard to try and get the sudden blur that had materialized behind her eyelids. Why did she let Abby do this to her...?

At the same time, she was smiling. A smile of pure happiness spreading over her face as she held onto the taller female; the warmth of her arms around her making up for the freezing cold weather and the biting wind. The huge, irresistible smile that somehow only managed to show a tiny part of the happiness fizzing inside Ziva like so many champagne bubbles. No...this was better than any amount of alcohol, and better than any amount of caffeine. Or anything else for that matter.

Pressing her lips a little closer to Abby's ear; she replied softly,

'I love you too'.

Ziva wanted to add something; anything...but decided against it. That had been enough. Better to leave it at that, at least for now, rather than destroy the entire moment by saying something tactless, stupid and typically... Ziva.

Instead, she kissed Abby's cheek gently and held her that little bit closer; as she felt Abby's lips - which were as warm and soft as ever, even in the freezing wind - press against her own cheek and return the favour. Leaning her head on the taller woman's shoulder, she closed her eyes and let herself hold onto the moment, and Abby, just for a second longer.

...All that emotion - which Ziva had never considered herself worthy or capable of - concentrated into the space of less than five seconds.
It was amazing. It was insane.
It was also quite, quite..well, terrifying.

But if anyone ever managed to make Ziva scared of her own feelings, she was so glad it was Abby.


(...Four words: Please. Don't. Hate. Me. You'll know perfectly well which bits I borrowed, but I still get the nasty sinking feeling that you're going to want my head on a pointy stick by the time you're reading this far down the page - bunches and all. Sorry. And again...sorry.)