i am over it
typicalhigh
Ziva runs her fingers around the edge of her cool glass and stares into it so intensely that Ducky, sitting next to her, thinks she may be seeing the very meaning of life hovering in her tequila sunrise's depths. It is her fifth drink in an hour and a half, and with each drink Ducky buys her she slurs her words more, becomes louder and increasingly lucid. He should probably be more responsible and stop Ziva from drinking herself into oblivion, but he knows she has tomorrow off, and if he is honest with himself, it's just that Ziva is terribly adorable when she is drunk - all slumped shoulders and an aspect of anguish about her. Not to mention the things she would never bring herself to say while sober.