Dream State
Chapter I-
Dreaming with a Broken Heart
"When you're dreaming with a broken heart, waking up is the hardest part. You roll out of bed and down on your knees, and for the moment you can hardly breathe."
Ziva's footsteps were loud as she weaved her way through the tall grass that filled the meadow, but stealth was something she for once didn't care about. Bending down to pluck a dandelion from the earth, the sun's intense rays warmed her shoulders and upper back. After twirling it in her hand for a brief moment, she let it fall to the ground, and her attention turned to the sapphire sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight, and a slight breeze rustled the grass and blew Ziva's hair across her face.
Like it used to be, her hair was down and curly; untamed, wild, free. Gleaming white flats adorned her feet and she wore a cheery yellow sundress that seemed to be familiar to her, but she just couldn't place where she had seen it before. Another thing that was strange was that Ziva didn't have her gun, and even more peculiar was the fact that she didn't care. More than just Ziva's hair was escaping from her life's usual structure.
"Zi-va!"
The world's pace slowed, time was warped as she spun in slow motion, her eyes eagerly scanning the meadow. The sundress gracefully wrapped around her and her hair caught the wind as she desperately searched for him, for every second Ziva spent alone felt like an eternity. Just as she was losing hope, her body collided with something large and sturdy. The force of the impact from the bump set her off balance, but strong hands quickly set her back on her feet.
"Ziva," he whispered, tucking a wild strange of hair back behind her ear. Clad in a white dress shirt and casual jeans, their outfits seemed to match as perfectly as something out of one of those movies he liked to watch That was exactly what it was like, a movie, but Ziva didn't let it bother her and embraced her role without a second thought.
"Tony," she breathed back, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering something in his ear. He laughed, a huge smile spreading across his face, and picked Ziva up off the ground, spinning her around in the air. This made her laugh, and they both fell to the ground, still grinning and giggling.
Ziva sat up first, kicking off her shoes before lying back down again and turning to face Tony. He leaned in toward her and held out a white dandelion, his eyes locked on hers. Not breaking eye-contact, she rested her hand on his and together they blew the seeds out into the wind, letting the stem fall to the ground.
Nothing was between them then, and they leaned in closer, Ziva mesmerized by the sparkle in his eyes. She took a deep breath, eyes still trained on his. So close- BEEP!
"Wondering is she really here? Is she standing in my room? No, she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone…"
Back in reality, Ziva wrenched away from the man who wasn't there and promptly fell from her bed and onto the floor. There she stayed for a second, groaning and cursing in her native language, before remembering her gun and leaping back on her bed to dive for it. Snatching it up, she smacked the alarm with her free hand before lying back down, eyes cast at the ceiling.
The cool familiarity of the gun calmed her, and her breathing slowed back to its normal pace. It was only then that she pondered her dream, which was still etched crystal clear in her mind, not fading like most dreams.
It had been a queer one, that was for sure. Everything about it had been strange; from the setting to the attire to the way they acted to the almost kiss- Ziva shuddered at that thought. If the dream had only lasted for ten more second… No, it was just a dream. She needed to get a grip on herself.
To prevent herself from reflecting any further, Ziva slid out of bed and made her way to the bathroom to take a shower and clear her head.
"When you're dreaming with a broken heart, the giving up is the hardest part. She takes you in with her crying eyes, then all at once you have to say goodbye."
Tony's eyes snapped open. His right hand fumbled clumsily for the snooze button on his alarm clock, anything to make the blood-pounding noise stop. Finally locating his target, he gave it a good jab before closing his eyes once more.
Unlike Ziva, his dream had been pretty normal, well, as normal as a dream could be. It had been something about the movie he'd watched before staggering off to bed that previous night. Nothing got you excited for another day of being smacked in the back of the head by his boss, being taunted by Ziva, taunting McGee, and probably another case like Titanic did.
Tony's eyes shot open in panic. Ziva was taking leave to take a trip to some exotic place, most likely with another one of her secret boyfriends. That would make going to work an even more irksome prospect without her being there. Solving crimes without Ziva just didn't seem right after how many years they had worked together.
His mood deflated like a popped balloon, Tony stumbled to the kitchen, contemplating the size of the muscles Ziva's new boyfriend probably had. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice his alarm going off again as he started to brew his coffee.
"Wondering if you'll stay, my love, will you wake up by my side? No, she can't, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone…"
Abby tiptoed across her lab to where McGee was slumped over, his head resting on Bert. As she snuck closer, she caught notice of the fact that he was mumbling something, his words slurred because of the stuffed hippo. Obviously, his promise to stay awake the whole night and help her finish documenting all of their last case's evidence was broken.
Sure, the criminal had been apprehended, but Abby hadn't had time to sift through all one hundred seventy-four weapons the creep stabbed his victim with before he was caught. After bagging number one hundred fifty-nine, a pair of rusty gardening sheers, she had decided to take a break and get some revenge on McGee for falling asleep on her. Noting the pie slicer that had fallen into his lap, Abby shook her head and reached for a clean pair of gloves. Not only did he nod off on her, McGee had also contaminated an important piece of evidence.
She was just about to snap the gloves on, hoping to scare McGee out of his wits with the sudden noise, when his head shifted, making his mumblings almost intelligible. Leaning in closer, Abby put her ear right next to his mouth, straining to understand what he was saying. Hopefully it was something embarrassing that she could tell Tony.
"Abby," McGee murmured, "you look great." His next few words were indiscernible, but not for Abby's lack of trying. "Not here, he has a very strict rule about these things. If Gibbs saw us-"
Abby slapped him in the back of the head with Gibbs like gusto. Watching in satisfaction as he fell from his chair, the pie slicer jabbing him painfully in the leg, she loomed over him, a look of pure rage on her face. McGee, in comparison, looked like a little kid who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"What were you dreaming about, McGee?" she questioned, her eyes practically frying the unfortunate lad.
"Me, uh," his eyes were frantically scanning the room, searching in vain for inspiration, "you see, I was just, um, dreaming about, well, I was…"
Biting her lip in disgust, Abby snatched the pie slicer off the ground and shoved it at him. "I believe you still have number one hundred sixty to finish," she snapped, turning on her heel and marching away from a squirming McGee. Her behavior was note very Abby like, but she was angry, embarrassed, frustrated, and incredibly confused.
"I was dreaming about pie!" McGee called after her, but she was already exiting the lab. A huge Caf-Pow was exactly what Abby needed right then, for there was a very long day ahead of her… and an even longer one for McGee.
"Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands? … Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my, roses in my hands? Would you get them if I did? No, you won't, 'cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone."
As for Gibbs, well, he was dreaming about coffee.
"When you're dreaming with a broken heart, the waking up is the hardest part."
"Dreaming with a Broken Heart" by John Mayer