By the time of the third death in the movie Abby's adrenaline was pumped high. But the wine balanced her out and she dosed a little, snuggling her head in the crook of Ziva's neck. She had never realised how beautiful the officer was, well actually she did, even before Tony burst through the doors of her lab on the day of Ziva's arrival raving about her assets. She wondered what Tony's face would look like if she had told him that her and Ziva shared a kiss and her face reddened at the thought, at thinking such a thought. She had never kissed another woman before although she was quite sure Ziva had. Abby blushed again, she couldn't be attracted to the woman who was stroking her stomach with her fingers…but this room is so warm.
"Do you want to kiss me, Abby?"
Abby looked up at the sound of Ziva's low voice in surprise, McGee was right after all; she can read minds. She opened her mouth to retort but ended up bringing it to Ziva's. When they pulled apart Ziva was smiling and she nuzzled Abby's cheek. Deja vous hit Abby like a bomb as she remembered the time when it would have been Cate she was holding, when it would have been Catie's hair she was stroking.
Ziva leaned in for another kiss and Abby accepted, but when the women pulled apart Abby was crying. She pushed Ziva off her and received a look from the other woman that was clearly confused, probably wondering if women crying after sharing a kiss were some strange American tradition. But when another tear fell across Abby's cheek Ziva's look turned to concern.
"Did you not like it?"
"Shut up! You're not Cate and I hate you. I hate you; I hate you! I swear to God I hate you!" Abby jumped from the couch and fought back the fresh tears that were brimming and spilling onto her face. How could she just forget about Cate and love Ziva instead. Her Catie deserved better and she could not allow herself to forget it. Face flushed from alcohol and anger she stormed toward the door her friends left from just hours earlier.
Stunned, it took Ziva a moment to react. She too leapt up from the lounge and she grabbed the crook of Abby's arm. Abby whorled around and glared into Ziva's eyes, which where filled with hurt, a look Ziva had not shared with anybody except for Gibbs when she broke down in his basement, and when she spoke to Tony beside the severed head the team had found. Ziva received her own shot of deja vous as Abby fought against her grip by bringing her hand cracking down on Ziva's cheek. This time Ziva did not slap her back, but instead muttered something about it not being safe for Abby to drive and that she would call a taxicab. By taxi, she of course meant Jethro, who would undoubtedly be able to handle Abby's sudden rage with more discretion and grace than a cabbie.
Abby continued to struggle against Ziva's hand but just as Ziva was considering handcuffing the Goth to a kitchen chair she relaxed slightly, the thought of Gibbs coming seeming to make her feel better. Her face was still tear streaked and red and her eyes where glassy. But she had settled back onto the couch, her tears now falling as silently, her eyes now staring angrily at her own hands instead of glaring into Israeli's. Ziva felt a pang of anger of her own, resenting Abby's actions but at the same time wishing she could think of something to say. But she was an agent first and a people person second. She supposed that was okay; after all Gibbs was good with talking and words and soon the broken woman would be with him, crying silently on his shoulder instead of a couch, probably wearing his NCIS sweater and sleeping in his bed. It was like what her father always told her, she was David, an officer and love was for the other people.