A/N: This is the beginning of the story I wrote for Mister Nowhere for the Secret Santa exchange on NFA. It is a Ziva/Abby romantic pairing and is set toward the end of Season 3. There is one more chapter that will be posted soon. Enjoy your reading and Happy New Year!
It was May 17th and all of Gibbs' team was on edge. Something was wrong with Abby and no one could figure it out. If Gibbs had an inkling, he wasn't sharing, and Abby herself wasn't talking – not even to her silver-haired fox.
Ziva, Tony and McGee huddled around Tony's desk, making educated and even random guesses about what could possibly be going on with their favorite forensic scientist. Granted, Ziva had been here less than a year and she and Abby had gotten off to a rocky start, but at this point she felt she knew Abby as well as anyone else - she'd like to know her even better, but that was another matter altogether.
"It'll be a year next week since Kate…died," McGee finally offered, carefully looking anywhere but at Ziva as he said it. "Maybe the anniversary has already hit her."
Tony shook his head. "I don't know, Probie…doesn't really feel like that."
"Maybe not exactly that, but maybe something like that," Ziva responded, getting a look in her eyes that said her mind was searching for all the possibilities there.
Just then Gibbs strode into the squadroom. "Gear up. Dead sailor's been found in an alley outside a bar in Arlington."
The three immediately grabbed their backpacks and weapons. Gibbs gave the address to McGee, tossed the keys to the truck to Tony and headed for his car. After all, he needed coffee on the way; he'd only had four cups so far and it was nearly 10:00 a.m.
As they drove to the crime scene, Ziva stared out the window, her mind preoccupied. She had a feeling that there was a nugget of truth in what McGee had said about Abby's mood and Kate's death, but for the life of her she couldn't grasp it.
The crime turned out to be fairly open and shut. They called in the bartender from the night before and learned that the deceased had gotten into a fight with a Marine after trying to make time with the Marine's girlfriend. The bartender tossed them both out after threatening to call the police. He hadn't really thought more of it, but recalled that a whole group of buddies left with the Marine. Given that the sailor had been beaten to death, it was likely they had followed the Navy guy to teach him a lesson - a lesson that had gotten out of hand.
All the guys had been regulars and the bartender knew their names and that the Marines were stationed at Quantico. Gibbs sent Tony and McGee in his car to pick up the Marine who'd started the fight, with instructions to bring him in for interrogation at the Navy Yard. He also told them to enlist help from the Military Police at Quantico in detaining the buddies, in case they'd really been in on it.
After Ziva and Gibbs finished processing the evidence, they drove back to NCIS. Ziva again stared out the window, ruminating about Abby.
"Somethin' on your mind, David?" Gibbs inquired at last.
Ziva turned her head toward her boss. "I am worried about Abby. Do you know what is bothering her today?"
Gibbs took so long to answer that Ziva had decided he wasn't going to. Then he offered, "Got an idea."
"What is it?" Ziva asked in a low voice. Again, he didn't respond at first.
"I am not interested in gossip, Gibbs," Ziva pointed out defensively. She turned her head to look back out the window. "I only wish to know because I … care about her."
After another pause, Gibbs revealed, "Today is – or would have been – Kate's birthday. Kate and Abby always did something together on their birthdays."
Ah. Yes, that sat right with Ziva's gut, which was frankly nearly as accurate as Gibbs'.
"What can I do?" she asked.
He shrugged. "She'll talk when she's ready. Just be there if she decides to talk to you."
That was a frustrating answer for Ziva; she was a woman of action. The thought of waiting did not sit well with her, but she honestly wasn't sure what else to do.
Gibbs sent Ziva to the lab with presents of evidence for Abby. Ziva hoped having something to focus on would improve Abby's mood, but she decided to sweeten the deal with a Caf-Pow. Just as she was trying to decide how to swing by the cantina on the way to the lab without risking the evidence in any way, Gibbs reached around her and dangled the sweet drink in front of her.
"This what you're waiting for?" he asked with a smirk.
Ziva grinned. With murmured thanks, she headed down to the lab.
Abby was clearly still in her mood, as evidenced by the silence in the lab and the fact that she was sitting cross-legged on her futon cuddling Bert.
"Hello, Abby," Ziva said, at first trying the tact of acting as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on. "I come bearing gifts." She held up the evidence bags in one hand and the drink in the other.
"You can just put them over there," Abby pointed to the metal table she used to spread out and examine evidence. There was a listlessness about her eyes and in her voice that was even more pronounced than this morning. Now Ziva was really worried.
Putting the things on the table, Ziva went over and squatted in front of Abby. "Talk to me, Abigail," she commanded softly.
Abby had to fight back tears at the gentleness in Ziva's voice. Since she was trying really hard not to cry at work – and was really unsure about crying in front of Ziva anywhere – Abby snarked, "Maybe I don't want to talk about it."
Ziva pulled back, stung at being rebuffed. Standing, she turned to leave the lab. She stopped when Abby spoke again, this time not much above a whisper.
"I – I'm sorry, Ziva. I just can't talk about it right now."
"We could go somewhere after work," Ziva offered, "grab a beer or something."
Abby shook her head. "Got somewhere I gotta go," she mumbled into Bert's coat.
A little stung once again, Ziva began retreating. "Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."
When she got upstairs, Gibbs already had the whole story out of the Marine in interrogation, and it wasn't long before Abby had the proof to back it up. True enough, this Marine and his friends had followed the sailor and had been overly zealous in taking him down a notch or three. When he fell down for the last time and didn't get back up, the men panicked and dispersed. However, it had been weighing on this young man and he seemed almost relieved to own up to what happened and face the consequences. Once the additional Marines had been brought in, questioned and booked, Gibbs sent the team home for the night.
Ziva went home. After she'd showered and put on her lounging-around-at-home attire of soft yoga pants and a fitted tank, she tried to interest herself in a book. However, it was no use. She just couldn't get Abby off her mind. Impulsively, she threw on a hoodie, grabbed an apple to eat for supper on the way and drove over to Abby's. She got there just in time to see the scientist put something into her hearse, then climb in and drive away. Curious, Ziva followed.
Before long, Ziva found herself pulling into a cemetery, keeping Abby's hearse in sight but staying a ways back. The road wound around through the various sections; after a bit, Abby slowed and pulled off to the side. Ziva stopped several yards back, watching. She was a little confused, as the headstones in this area were very old and did not look to be visited frequently. She watched as Abby pulled two pink roses from a box in the back of her car, then made her way to a cherry tree that was at the far corner of this section overlooking a pond. There was no marker, but this tree was clearly significant to Abby.
Ziva got out of her car, closed the door quietly and followed her friend. She stayed out of sight, but was close enough to hear and see what was happening.
The Goth had knelt down by the cherry tree and laid the two roses at its base. Then she settled back on her bottom, pulling her knees up to rest her chin on them. Staring wistfully at the roses, she whispered, "Happy birthday, Kate." At the last word, her voice cracked and tears started streaming down her face.
"Remember what we did last year on your birthday? We got your tattoo," Abby smiled through her tears. "It made Tony crazy when he found out about it and that you wouldn't tell him what it was. I've still never told him that you got a blue butterfly practically on your ass."
Abby paused, wiping at her cheeks. "I missed you on my birthday this year. I didn't go to the festival, even though I knew you would have wanted me to." Her lips trembled in emotion. "Don't be mad; I just missed you too much to go." Abby's shoulders shook as she lowered her head again and cried.
Ziva was moved to tears herself at the sight of her friend in so much pain. Quietly, she moved forward and softly called Abby's name. Abby's head jerked up and she looked at Ziva with a combination of confusion and embarrassment and even a little anger. "What are you doing here?" she asked harshly.
"I was worried about you," Ziva admitted, kneeling down and looking into Abby's green eyes that still sparkled with tears, "so I went to your apartment and got there just in time to see you leave. I followed you, just …I do not know why exactly. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I will leave you to your privacy if you wish, but I will gladly lend you my shoulder to cry on if that would help."
Abby stared at Ziva for a long moment, looked over at the roses for even longer…then slowly leaned her head sideways onto Ziva's shoulder. Wrapping an arm around Abby's waist, Ziva arranged herself in a sitting position and just supported her friend in silence.
After what seemed like half an hour, but was really much shorter, Abby asked in a voice almost too soft to catch, "How much did you hear?"
"All of it," Ziva admitted.
Abby was quiet, then something seemed to shift inside her and she began to talk. "Kate and I always spent our birthdays together. On hers, we would do something just a little wild, something she wouldn't normally do. On mine, we would go to the Cherry Blossom Festival."
Ziva raised her eyebrows in question at that last part, but didn't say a word. Abby tilted her head to look up at Ziva's face. "I know – that's the last place you'd expect. Did you know that festival was started to celebrate the friendship between two very different countries? Japan and the United States. The mayor of Tokyo gave Japanese cherry trees to Washington, D.C. on March 27, 1912. That's my birthday – well, not the 1912 part, of course – I wasn't even a gleam in my father's eye yet. Come to think of it, my father wasn't even a gleam in HIS father's eye yet –"
"Abby," Ziva interrupted gently but firmly. "The cherry trees?"
"Oh, yeah – well, when I told Kate – you know how I have all this random stuff in my head that just pops out –" Ziva nodded – "well, Kate thought that was kind of symbolic of us: the sheltered Catholic school girl from Indiana and the Gothic scientist from New Orleans. Who would think we'd be friends?" She looked back at the roses. "But we were; best friends," she whispered. "And I miss her."
After a pause she added softly, "I know next week will be bad, too, but somehow I think today is even harder."
Ziva wrapped her arms around Abby. Suddenly, Abby burrowed her head against Ziva's chest and held on tightly with both arms around Ziva's waist, sobs coming again. Ziva smoothed her hands over Abby's back, murmuring soothing words in her native tongue.
When Abby had quieted, she made no move to let go of Ziva, for which Ziva was glad. She'd always known Abby would feel exactly right in her arms, and she had not been wrong. No matter the reason, part of Ziva relished this chance to be close to Abby, even if her true feelings would always have to remain hidden. Too, Abby was her friend first and foremost and, like Gibbs said, Ziva wanted to be there for her.
"I thought…"Ziva started, then stopped.
"You thought what?" Abby mumbled, her head still tucked in close against Ziva's chest.
"I thought Kate's family buried her in Indiana," Ziva said softly.
"They did. But I wanted something closer, where I could visit. Some friends of mine work here and they found this space. No one uses this section anymore and it's not part of anyone's plot, and it just felt like the right spot to put a cherry tree. I don't think these folks mind," she added, nodding her head toward the headstones nearby.
"You have friends who work at a cemetery." What should have been a question came out as a statement.
Abby just looked up at her with her left eyebrow slightly cocked, a spark of the real Abby starting to glimmer in her green eyes.
"Of course, you do," Ziva continued matter-of-factly. Abby snuggled back in, closing her eyes.
"And you are right: this is the perfect spot for a cherry tree," Ziva added quietly. "And the pink roses?"
"They were Kate's favorite," Abby explained.
After a silence that was not uncomfortable, Ziva spoke. "Abby…"
"Yeah, Ziva?"
Ziva shook her head. "Never mind; it is none of my business."
Abby pulled back enough to look at Ziva's face. "Go ahead; if I don't want to answer, I'll tell you."
Ziva paused, choosing her words carefully. "Were you and Kate…more than friends?"
Abby looked a little surprised at the question, but not shocked or weirded out in the least. "You mean like lovers?" Abby asked.
Ziva nodded.
Abby practically snorted. "No. Oh, I could have gone there, but Kate? No way." She grinned a little with a look in her eyes that suggested she was replaying a memory or two in her head. Shifting her focus back to the woman in front of her, Abby asked, "Why?"
Ziva shrugged. "I was just wondering," she answered, downplaying her answer – and the interest behind her question.
Abby gave her a quizzical look, but let the subject drop, and returned her head to Ziva's shoulder.
Minutes passed, but to the two women sitting under a cherry tree surrounded by headstones, it almost seemed that time stood still.
"Do you think the pain will ever go away?" Abby eventually asked in a voice that was almost a sigh.
Ziva wanted to reassure Abby that it would, but she knew from personal experience that it wouldn't ever go away completely.
Leaning her head against the other woman's hair, she answered honestly. "I have lost people that I loved, and I can say that the pain never goes completely away. But it does become…easier…it becomes possible to remember them without feeling like the pain will surely kill you…and eventually you will even smile as the happy memories become the ones you think of most."
The stark emotion in her answer surprised Abby for Ziva rarely let her guard down that way, but she was grateful for Ziva's honesty. She didn't know what to say in response, so she hugged Ziva a little more tightly, sending her own comfort. The fact that Ziva gave a little extra squeeze to Abby's forearm said she got the message.
As dusk fell, the air started to cool, despite the fact that it was mid-May. As much as she hated to move from this position, her first priority was taking care of Abby. Ziva gave the other woman a squeeze and suggested, "I think we should get you home."
Abby started to protest, then had the thought that Ziva was politely trying to say that she herself needed to go. Pulling away – reluctantly – Abby said, "Oh, sorry – you probably have better things to do than babysit me. I shouldn't have kept you here so long. You go ahead; I've kept you long enough –"
Letting Abby sit up, Ziva stopped the rambling run-on sentences with a finger against Abby's lips. "I am exactly where I wish to be. I just want to get you home before you catch a chill – and I imagine you have not eaten, either, have you?"
Abby somewhat sheepishly shook her head no.
"We could get something to eat, if you like," Ziva suggested.
"I couldn't go looking like this; the messy, mascara-running look is definitely not in," Abby said, actually managing a self-deprecating chuckle.
Ziva gave a small smile. Cupping Abby's jaw in her hand and brushing a thumb across her cheek, she murmured, "I think you look beautiful."
Abby's eyes widened as she looked into Ziva's whiskey-brown ones. Attraction hummed in the air between them, taking Abby by surprise. To cover, she joked, "I bet you say that to all the girls who blubber on your shoulder."
"Only a select few," Ziva winked. Standing, she offered Abby a hand and pulled the taller woman to her feet.
"How about this: If you feel up to driving, you could go home while I pick up something for dinner, then meet you back at your apartment," Ziva offered.
Abby's eyes brightened. "Now that sounds like a plan."
Ziva smiled, pleased. "Are you ready to go or do you need a minute?"
Abby looked at the cherry tree, then back at Ziva. "Could I have just a minute?" she asked, biting the side of her lip.
"Of course," Ziva assured her. "Take all the time you need. I will be waiting."
Abby watched Ziva stroll unhurriedly to her red Mini Cooper, admiring the sway of her hips. Shaking her head, she looked back at the base of the tree where the two roses lay. "OK, what do you make of that? I mean, I like Ziva – well, I didn't at first, you know, because of - well, you know…but then we got cool and we're friends, but this…this doesn't feel like just friends…I wish you could tell me what you think."
Kate didn't answer, of course, but Abby suddenly spotted a blue butterfly land on the cherry tree for a brief moment, then sail away. A broad smile split Abby's face. The reason Kate had chosen a butterfly for her tattoo was because it reminded her that things change, but the change can be beautiful. "Thanks, my friend," she whispered. "I'll see you next time." Pressing her fingers to her lips, she then touched the tree with her hand.
Walking to her hearse, she gave a wave to Ziva, who was patiently waiting. Abby pulled out first and headed home. Once inside her apartment, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. "Yikes! That's worse than I thought." She headed to the bathroom to remove the makeup that was streaking down her face. "Ziva better get her eyes checked," she mumbled to herself as she found her cleanser.
Before long, there was a knock at the door. Figuring it was Ziva, Abby called out, "Come in." She was just coming out of her bedroom after changing into soft pajamas. She was tired and she wasn't going out again, so she figured she might as well get really comfortable.
Ziva opened the door with a frown marring her lovely features. "Abigail, you should at least look through the peekhole before yelling 'come in,'" she chided.
"Peephole," Abby corrected.
Ziva looked confused. "Why do you call it that? You peek through it; you do not say 'peep' like a baby chick." She rolled her eyes and muttered about American English as she placed the bag and box she was carrying on the table.
Abby just grinned and distracted her by commenting, "That smells delicious."
"Well, it is nothing fancy. Matzo ball soup from this Jewish deli I like. It is good comfort food. And there happens to be a bakery next door," she drawled, "and so we have this for dessert."
With a flourish, she opened the bakery box to reveal four huge delicious-looking brownies topped with rich, creamy chocolate icing.
Abby's eyes grew round as saucers. Bouncing up and down, she begged, "Can we have those first? Can we? Please?"
Ziva grinned then started to close the lid. "Uh-uh-uh," she shook her head. "Soup first; brownies later."
"You're no fun," Abby pouted prettily, which made Ziva want to kiss her on the spot.
Pictures of Abby and her having fun crashed through Ziva's brain. Before she could stop herself, she murmured, "Oh, I can be fun." And scooping some icing onto a finger, she held it up to Abby's mouth. Almost in slow motion, Abby's tongue darted out and scooped up most of the icing. Brown eyes locked with green as Ziva placed that finger in her own mouth, sucking off the rest of the sweetness.
Abby's mouth went dry as she was mesmerized by the sexiness of Ziva's action. Finally, she tore her gaze away and started rambling again. "You're right. Soup first. Bowls. We need bowls. And spoons. We can't eat soup without spoons…"
She talked, but she made no move toward the cupboards, and, in fact, looked rather helplessly around her kitchen. Ziva smiled knowingly and gently pushed the taller woman in what looked like the right direction. That snapped her out of it, and Abby soon had the bowls and spoons, while Ziva removed the soup from the bag.
They ate at the table in Abby's small dining room, chatting about lighter topics. After they cleared the bowls, by unspoken agreement they each loaded a small plate with a huge brownie, grabbed a glass of milk and settled in on Abby's couch.
"Mmmmm…" Abby moaned. With her mouth full of the tasty morsel, she mumbled, "This is so good."
Ziva froze in the act of taking a bite of her own brownie, completely turned on by Abby's sounds of satisfaction. Get a grip, Ziva she admonished herself, taking a swig of cold milk in an effort to cool herself.
The brownies were gone in short order – thank God. Ziva really wasn't sure her self-control would hold up if Abby moaned one more time. Leaning back against the couch and propping her feet on the coffee table in front of them, Abby invited Ziva to do the same. With a long sigh of contentment, Abby closed her eyes for a moment, while Ziva just watched her. Turning her head toward her Israeli friend, Abby opened her eyes with a somewhat sleepy smile.
"Thank you for coming today," she said in a serious but heartfelt voice.
"You are welcome," Ziva replied with a small smile. "I should be going, though, so you can get to bed. You look exhausted."
A vulnerable look appeared in Abby's eyes. "Would you stay for a while? I don't really want to be alone after all just yet."
Most people thought Ziva David had a heart of stone, if she had one at all. Nothing was further from the truth. She did keep it buried somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach as often as possible, but she could not do that with Abby. She had been attracted to her from the moment they'd met, though she presumed that was doomed to go nowhere. Although tonight…there were flashes of sizzle that Abby seemed to return…Sigh. The bottom line was she could not deny Abby anything that would care for her today, no matter if she had these other feelings that could complicate their friendship.
"Of course," Ziva assured her. In one of her lightning-quick moves, Abby grabbed a pillow from beside the couch where she kept it for watching TV and pulled down the blanket resting along the back of the couch. Placing the pillow in Ziva's lap, Abby promptly plopped her head on it and tossed the cover over herself.
"Comfy?" Ziva asked, amused, one eyebrow raised mockingly.
"Very," Abby confirmed, closing her eyes. Then they popped back open. "Drat. I forgot to take down my pigtails." She started to raise her hands to her head, but Ziva stopped her with her own hands.
"Let me," she husked, gently tugging the bands from Abby's hair and combing her fingers through it carefully until the dark strands were spread across the pillow, luxuriating in the silkiness of Abby's hair. Abby closed her eyes and enjoyed the relaxing feel of Ziva's hand smoothing out her hair.
"Mmmm…" Abby moaned for the second time that evening.
Ziva felt the tug of desire again, but she valiantly grabbed for willpower. Still, she could not stop the whisper that passed her lips. "Abby."
Abby slowly opened her eyes and found Ziva's dark with longing. Moving slowly as though she didn't want to scare Ziva off, Abby turned into Ziva, propping herself up on one elbow. Not daring to breathe, she brushed her lips across Ziva's. Ziva was completely still as if she were unable to move, but the Goth could literally see the pulse jump at the base of Ziva's throat. Abby grew bolder, pressing her lips more fully against the Israeli's and sucking her bottom lip in between her own.
"Mmmm…" This time it was Ziva's turn to moan. Smiling, Abby slid her tongue along Ziva's lips, requesting entrance. Ziva happily complied. The kiss deepened until it was impossible to say who led and who followed.
Abby's hands tunneled into Ziva's hair, loving the feel and the weight of it. Ziva's hands roamed over Abby's back, molding her to her. As she realized she was about to slide her hand under Abby's shirt, Ziva pulled back, breathing heavily. Leaning her head back against the couch, she kept her eyes closed and tried to catch her breath.
"What's wrong? Why did you stop?" Abby asked, worrying her lower lip with her teeth and looking incredibly vulnerable.
"Nothing is wrong," Ziva reassured her, opening her eyes and smoothing a hand down the other woman's hair. "I have wanted you since the day we met, but I never believed you would return those feelings."
"Honestly, it's taken me by surprise. I mean, I've been with women, I just never thought of you as being…I just figured I would never be your type and that you were probably straight anyway…"
Ziva smiled. "You are unlike any other woman I have ever been attracted to, Abigail Sciuto, but you are most definitely my type." With that, she pulled Abby in for another scorching kiss, tongues tangling, breath mingling as they tasted the chocolate that lingered in each other's mouths.
By some feat, Ziva managed to pull back again, though Abby didn't make it easy, following Ziva's mouth unerringly.
"Abby," Ziva mumbled reluctantly against those luscious lips. "Abby, we need to…"
Her voice trailed off as Abby's mouth wandered down to her neck, finding a particularly sensitive spot. Ziva groaned as more heat pooled to her center.
"Abby!" Ziva held onto Abby's shoulders, desperately putting a little distance between them. Abby's eyes slowly opened, revealing green orbs that were hazy with desire.
"I want to kiss you," Abby protested petulantly, not yet grasping why she couldn't.
Ziva gentled. Cupping Abby's face in her hand, she said, "I want that, too. But if we end up in bed – and God I hope we do," she breathed, resting her forehead on Abby's, "it should not be tonight. This is Kate's night and I do not want her in bed with us, nor do I want your memories of our first night all tied up in memories of Kate's life…and her death." Ziva's voice trailed off at the end.
Abby's mouth nearly dropped open, even as her heart simply…melted. She had not been thinking beyond how good it felt to touch and be touched by Ziva, but clearly the Israeli had. And while Abby wanted nothing more than to push Ziva flat on her back and ravish her, she knew she was right. All of these emotions played across her face in a matter of seconds.
"Besides," Ziva continued. "This is a big step…I have been imagining this far longer than you have, and I want you to be sure. I do not want anything to ruin our friendship. You are too important to me."
With a deep sigh, Abby buried her face in Ziva's neck. Ziva wrapped her in close, smoothing her hands over Abby's arms and back in an effort to soothe, not arouse.
"You're right," Abby mumbled. Pulling her face back, she looked directly at Ziva. "I don't like it, but you're right."
"You will get used to that," Ziva teased arrogantly.
Abby gave the other woman a mock punch on the shoulder, then rested her head against Ziva's chest, wrapping her left hand up around her neck. "Will you still stay?" she asked in a small voice.
"If you want me to," Ziva agreed, hoping to God her self-control wouldn't crack.
"Yes, please," Abby whispered. Soon the emotional toll of the day caught up with her and she was asleep in a heartbeat, nestled into Ziva, the Israeli's left arm cradling Abby close.
Ziva watched Abby sleep until she began to feel drowsy herself. She carefully reached up and turned off the lamp beside the couch and leaned back against the couch. Feeling more content that she could ever remember, Ziva drifted off to sleep, as well.
Early the next morning, Ziva awoke suddenly, staying perfectly still as memories of the night before slowly rolled through her mind. She looked down at Abby, who was still sleeping snuggled against Ziva's shoulder. Her mouth was slightly open and a soft snore came from her now and then, making Ziva chuckle inwardly. Ziva became aware that her left arm was completely numb from Abby laying on it all night, but she still didn't move it, content to let Abby sleep on. She slowly stretched her neck muscles that had stiffened during the night from her awkward position, allowing her eyes the luxury of roaming undetected over Abby's sleeping form.
An alarm suddenly blared head-banging music from somewhere down the hallway off the living room. Abby stirred, flinging a hand around to find the source of the noise, but encountering Ziva's breast instead. Abby's eyes flew open, as Ziva sucked in a breath.
"Oh!" Abby exclaimed. Then, realizing she still had her hand pressed against Ziva's softness, she blushed and pulled her hand away as though she were touching a hot stove. "Um, sorry, I didn't mean to do that," nodding toward Ziva's chest.
"It is all right, Abby," Ziva calmed her. Then, leaning her lips close to Abby's ear, she murmured teasingly, "Perhaps you will even do that again sometime when you mean it and we do not have to get ready for work." Her eyes twinkled as she watched Abby try to come awake enough for her memories to catch up with Ziva's.
Abby's mouth opened…then closed without saying a word. This was a lot to assimilate for her Caf-Pow-deprived brain.
Ziva smiled understandingly and smoothed Abby's hair. "Perhaps you should turn off your alarm before the neighbors start complaining. Besides, I have to get going so I can swing by my place before work."
"Oh, good point," Abby agreed, jumping off the couch. She stopped at the entrance to the hallway, turning back to look uncertainly at Ziva, who was attempting to rub the feeling back into her arm. "Zi? I…" Her voice trailed off, still not knowing what to say, but feeling like something was called for.
Ziva came to her rescue. "As I said, it is all right, Abigail. When you are ready, we will talk." And echoing her words from yesterday, she added, "I will be waiting."
Abby gave her a grateful smile, then turned toward the blaring music. Ziva's voice stopped her.
"And, Abby? No matter what you decide, we will be OK."
This time Abby's smile was as bright as the sun starting to shine on the horizon.
"Thanks, Ziva," she husked, "for everything."
Ziva nodded and gathered her keys. "I will see you at work." And with a small smile, she was gone, leaving a bemused Abby standing in her hallway – until her neighbor pounded on the wall in protest of her choice of alarms. "All right, all right. I'm coming," she groused, hurrying to the bedroom to shut off the music and start her day. If she felt a bit lighter than yesterday, she didn't over-think it; she just enjoyed the feeling.
To be continued...