Disclaimer: If I owned either of these shows there'd be more sex and less murder.
A/N: This is a response to the LJ Thing-a-thon prompt: Emily Prentiss/Ziva David, profiling.
Eight days ago, Ziva David had never even heard of the BAU, let alone understood exactly what it was that they did.
But one joint case, a serial killer targeting young marines and a crash course in the human mind and body language later, she'd been well immersed in the world of profiling.
It wasn't that she didn't already know how to assess subtle behavior or snake her way into a suspects head. She just had never given any conscious thought to how she did it.
Until now that is.
Gibbs had volunteered Ziva to spend most her time working closely with Agents Prentiss and Jareau for the duration of their stay, and needless to say, it hadn't taken very long for the tension that sparked between the two of them to make itself known.
She tried to ignore it. To forget the little touches that she witnessed and tentative flirting between the lines of their friendship. To push it to the back of her mind.
But she couldn't.
She'd been there before. Knew what to look for. Had felt the same insecurities and avoided taking risks that she'd wished she'd taken.
So when Abby invited her out later that night to celebrate the end of the case, Ziva should have had the common sense to turn her down. Especially when she found out that the women of the BAU were going to be there.
That's how she found herself slipping onto the dance floor at a local club, hands sliding down Emily Prentiss' hips as they squeezed into the throng of moving bodies.
Fingers traced over the skin of her lower back, and a strong leg slid between hers as she was tugged forward, flush against soft curves.
She let herself enjoy the sensation. Her body buzzed, eyes closing briefly. Cheeks touched, hips snug, stomachs and chests brushing as they ground against one another to the beat of the music.
Her lips dropped to the bare shoulder in front of her. Nips and little kisses. Tasting the sweet, soft skin as Emily's neck arched and she felt nails dig into her spine.
"You should tell her." Ziva's breath puffed against her ear, squeezing her lightly when the older woman stiffened in her arms. "You'll regret it if you don't."
Emily leaned back, her eyes wide as Ziva's lips touched hers, in a brushing, almost non-existent kiss.
It was hello and goodbye. A helping hand that she wished she'd have had all those years ago.
Ziva nudged her in JJ's direction, back toward their table, and slipped out of her embrace, sauntering out of the crowd without another word.
At least they had a chance.
End.