Hello again! I got bit by the writing bug this weekend, so here's my present to you. I'm really thankful for all the new reviews on my stories that keep popping up randomly. It's never too late to leave a review, I promise. Other than that, I hope you enjoy!
Ziva David admittedly believes in ghosts. The concept of the spirit world and its inhabitants has always been significant in her life. Whether it was because of her culture or because of all of death that surrounded her, she will probably never know, but believing that the people she loved and missed, like Tali, were still somehow with her kept a small part of her sane.
But Ziva is, first and foremost, an agent, not a spiritualist, which is why the first time she thinks she hears the floorboards of the apartment she shares with Abby creaking under footsteps, she has her gun in her hand immediately. Abby is peacefully asleep in the bed that Ziva is sitting on, and Jethro the dog still lives with McGee, which is why Ziva is certain that none of the apartment's inhabitants could be making these noises.
The footsteps sound as though they're coming from the apartment's living room and Ziva stealthily makes her way from the bedroom to the living room, body pressed against the wall, gun at the ready. She peers around the wall when she hears the floorboards creak again, moves in a flash to be visible, gun aimed steadily at...nothing. The room is empty and, as Ziva listens closely, she discovers that the entire apartment is totally silent. No more footsteps. With her gun still out, but not at the ready, Ziva examines the room in the waning light of the early evening. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Some of Abby's forensic journals are strewn across the small coffee table, but Ziva knows that Abby was probably reading them earlier that day. In that same sense, a few framed photographs have been moved from their usual spot above the (decorative, not real) fireplace onto the end table beside the couch. Ziva figures that Abby had probably been interrupted in the process of dusting the mantle and had forgotten to replace the pictures. Abby's attention span allowed for things like that to happen frequently. She replaces the photographs without really looking at them closely, too busy listening for more footsteps, but she hears nothing. With one last glance around the room, Ziva exits to join her girlfriend in bed. She chalks the paranoia up to it having been a really long day and leaves it at that.
The second time something strange happens, it's only a day or two later. The small bathroom is overflowing with steam, but Abby and Ziva are too focused to notice. The gentle shared caresses under the shower's hot steam quickly turn into something more until both women are gasping and moaning for release. Ziva comes down from the post orgasmic high first and helps Abby out of the tub. She's gently drying the Goth off, alternating between placing gentle kisses over droplets of water and using a fluffy blue towel, when she notices something. Abby is facing the wall, eyes closed, but Ziva is facing the sink and in the mirror above it, she swears she sees the condensation and fog on the glass forming a shape. She can almost make it out, and she stills her movements in an effort to focus. When Abby nuzzles her face into Ziva's neck, the agent realizes that the shape in the mirror resembles a smiling face. She wants to gasp or step back or show some outward expression of surprise, but years of training and work taught her to never do such a thing because it would cause innocent civilians (in this case, Abby) to panic unnecessarily. Instead of panicking, Ziva slowly guides them out of the bathroom into the bedroom where she helps Abby get dressed in some comfy pajamas. Ziva changes into a tank top and running shorts before slipping out under the guise of brushing her teeth. However, by the time she gets back to the bathroom, the face in the steam is nothing more than a few drops of water dripping down the glass in the process of evaporation.
At work, Ziva gives no indication to anyone of what's been happening at her apartment. It's partly because they're too busy and partly also because she doesn't see how it would help except to maybe score her an early appointment with the department psychiatrist, and that is definitely not something she wants. She's efficient and normal at work although one part in the back of her mind is always thinking about the apartment.
She's on her way to see Abby when she realizes that the folder in her hand does not belong to her team. She recognizes the team leader's name as one that Gibbs had mentioned to Tony earlier and realizes that Tony had somehow slyly dropped the folder on her desk because he was too lazy to deliver it himself. Although she's slightly annoyed with him, Ziva has to give him credit for pulling something like that off without her noticing. She quickly reroutes herself, headed for a different part of the bullpen so that she can deliver the folder to its rightful owners. On her way, Ziva passes the wall that mourns fallen agents. She glances at the smiling photographs of men and women, and her heart is heavy. Every single agent on that wall wanted nothing more than to help people and all it got them was killed. She realizes that it could just as easily be one of her beloved teammates, or even herself, on that wall. Ziva is glancing at the faces when suddenly she is shocked to realize that she recognizes one very clearly. From the fallen agents wall, the face from the steam in the mirror smiles up at her. The face of Caitlin Todd. She's stunned, and she tries to think back to the strange events of the previous days. One detail stands out to her. The photographs that she had replaced on the mantle, she's almost positive they're both shots of the team - one with Ziva, one with Kate.
Ziva spends the rest of the day deeply worried because if there's one thing you should never do, it's anger the dead.
She's lying in bed, arms wrapped tightly around Abby, chest pressed against the Goth's back when she first brings it up.
"Abby, I know you were very close with Kate. If she were here today, do you think our relationship would upset her?"
Abby turns in her arms to press her face into Ziva's neck.
"Why are you asking?" Abby questions quietly.
"I am just curious, love. Do you think it would bother her? Would she be angry with me?" Ziva almost doesn't want to hear the answer.
Abby is silent for a long time, and Ziva fears that she has upset her, but then Abby whispers something into her neck.
"Ziva, it's okay. I've been seeing her, too."
Ziva is stunned. Speechless. But Abby continues, "She's here, Ziva. She's always with me, I'm sure, but she's here I think to give her blessing. I never felt her around when I dated anyone else. In fact, I've always felt so alone with other people because she would always leave when I was with them. That's so like her, too - to leave rather than upset me. But Ziva, I think she's here with both of us because she knows how much we love each other. Kate's giving us her blessing. Thank you, Kate," Abby whispers.
In the corner of the room, Ziva watches the thin curtains covering the window dance, almost as if caught in a breeze, for a short moment before falling still again. She realizes that Kate, although a stranger to Ziva, would always be with her and always with Abby. The concept reminds her of a guardian angel and for a minute, Ziva wonders if maybe this is what guardian angels are. She imagines her beloved sister side by side with Caitlin Todd watching over her and Abby. The thought pleases her.
With a final glance at the now still curtains, Ziva whispers, "Kate, Tali, thank you," into the darkness. The two faintly colored glowing orbs that come to rest in the air above the bed go unnoticed by its already sleeping occupants.