Title: 7 & 7
Fandom: NCIS
Characters: Abby Scuito/Ziva David
Word Count: 784
Rating: Probably strong PG-13.
Author's Notes: Femmslash. What happens when you mix Abby, Ziva, and alcohol.

"I've never been to one of these kind of clubs before," Ziva yelled in Abby's ear. The thumping bass and wailing vocals made it difficult to hear anything, so yelling was the only appropriate form of communication. "I don't know what to expect."

Abby turned and surveyed Ziva's outfit. She had been pleasantly surprised when Ziva had arrived at her apartment dressed in a low-cut teal tank top and a pair of extremely tight-fitting black leather pants. "You'll be fine," she yelled back.

Ziva raised an eyebrow at Abby, smirking. "I just hope none of these...losers try to pick me up tonight."

"Don't you worry, Ziva," Abby told her, draping an arm around her shoulders and leading them to the bar. "I'll make sure the guys know you're not interested. And if one tries, hello, you're a Mossad agent. Just take him out!"

Ziva laughed at Abby's antics. She was glad Abby had talked her into going out with her tonight. She needed a night away from work, away from thinking up comebacks for when Tony came up with one of his classic come-on lines. A night out was just what she needed, and Abby seemed to sense that.

"George!" Abby yelled over to the bartender, a thick man with a shaved head full of tattoos. He walked over, wiping his hands on a towel. "Two 7 & 7's, please." He nodded and turned to retrieve their drinks. Abby turned to see Ziva's questioning look.

"And just what are 7 & 7's?"

Abby gave her an incredulous look. "You don't know what a 7 & 7 is? Whiskey sour?"

Ziva crumpled her lip. "Whiskey? I thought only old men in country and western bars drank that stuff."

Abby rolled her eyes. "Well, tonight, we are drinking whiskey. We're not old, and we certainly aren't men, so I guess you're wrong, Ms. David." She grinned, and Ziva slowly smiled, as well.

"Here you are, ladies," George said, setting down two cinnamon-colored drinks in front of them. "That'll be seven bucks."

Ziva reached for her wallet, but Abby stopped her, laying a hand on hers. "I've got it, Ziva. Don't worry about it." Abby's hand was still on Ziva's wrist, and once Abby realized, she slowly removed it and paid George.

"Thanks," Ziva said cautiously, picking up her drink and taking a sip. "Hmm, not bad."

Abby smirked. "Told ya so." She sipped her own drink, scanning the bouncing club-goers on the dance floor. "Wanna dance?"

Ziva gazed out on the floor herself, contemplating what could happen if she started dancing with Abby. The combination of pulsing music, alcohol, skimpy clothes, and a house full of horny singles could cause them to do something far beyond the professional friendship they had. But at the same time, she realized Abby might just want that to happen, and she wasn't going to deny she had felt something when Abby laid her hand on hers.

"Sure."

Abby's face lit up. "Let's go!" She grabbed Ziva's arm, literally dragging her to the dance floor and almost spilling her drink in the process.

Once the ladies hit the floor, the song changed to a driving hip hop beat, and they bounced along to the music, laughing at the feeling of being totally free, and drank their whiskey sours like ice water between songs. About half an hour into their dancing, the alcohol was getting to them, so when a slow song came on, neither one of them stepped from the floor.

Abby's eyes were full of questions as she stepped up to Ziva, and Ziva just returned her gaze, answering "yes" with her look. They lightly wrapped their arms around each other, not willing to make the move that could take them further, but then the guitar wailed across the room and Ziva instinctively clutched Abby closer.

Abby breathed in sharply, incredibly turned on by being pressed up against Ziva the way she was, arms snaking across her back and ass, and slid her hands through the Israeli's dark curls. Ziva pulled her head back for a moment, and Abby took the opportunity to lean in and gently kiss her.

Ziva didn't pull back. Instead, she deepened the kiss, moving her hands all the way up Abby's back until she reached her neck, and braced her face.

The kiss lasted for what seemed an eternity, but was in reality only a few minutes, then they slowly parted, lips swollen and cheeks flushed.

"Wow," Abby said, still in shock.

"I'll say," Ziva agreed, nodding. "I need to go clubbing more often."

The two women looked at each other for a second, then both burst out laughing before going in for another kiss.