So. What with all the shippery, fluffy nonsense that this chapter is comprised of, I think it's easily one of my favorites. Plus it means I finally conquered that pesky bit of writer's block I've been suffering from. So enjoy and tell me whether or not you like where I'm going with Tony and Ziva. Thanks!
Disclaimer - (insert witty comment of your own choice HERE)
McGee really needed to stop breathing through his nose.
This was proving difficult, however, because there was a straw between his lips and a chocolate milkshake before him on the table top that would not be ignored.
The problem was that Abby was dabbling with new perfumes again, after running some lab tests and discovering that there was one offensive, multi-syllabic chemical or another masquerading behind the lavender in her every-day perfume.
Yesterday she'd smelt like honeysuckle. Today she smelt like vanilla and cherries.
And the thing was, once McGee got to smelling the vanilla-cherry scent he got distracted.
Abby's conversationals were hard to track on a good day, and now McGee found himself wallowing in a muck of exuberant, over-enunciated chatter that was virtually impossible to follow.
McGee took another sip of his milkshake and watched the expressive maneuvers of Abby's pale, long-fingered hands.
"And, I mean, I'm happy for them and all, but if they're going to go all 'sugary-sweet, obsessively demonstrative' on me, I'm going to have to do something. I mean, we're their friends! And I totally support their love life! But not if it means shutting everyone else out! I mean, that's reasonable, right?"
Abby turned and blinked her eyes at McGee appealingly. He swallowed his mouthful of melty chocolate milkshake and agreed obediently, wondering what exactly he was concurring with her about.
She smiled, satisfied, and briefly squeezed his hand as she stole the shake away from him. "You don't mind sharing, do you?"
Without waiting for an answer, the young Goth took a long sip, red lips curving around the straw into a smile. "Mmm... This is so good. . . Okay, I'm done dieting. I mean, chocolate's good for you anyway, right? Be right back, I'm gonna go order one for me!"
Abby scurried off, leaving Tim to survey the smear of red lipstick that now marked the edge of his straw. Eventually he shrugged and resumed sipping the frozen delicacy, secretly marveling at his lips and Abby's touching the same surface.
...
"We are going to be late," said Ziva, with an admirable attempt at a stern tone of voice.
"Hmmm . . . " said Tony incoherently, pressing his lips to the golden hollow of smooth skin behind Ziva's ear. The Israeli girl's eyes temporarily fluttered closed, dark lashes shadowing her cheekbones.
"Abby will be angry."
Her tone was slightly breathless, and Tony smiled against her skin, pleased at the effect he had over the seemingly invincible girl.
Ziva swatted at him half-heartedly as his lips traveled down the curve of her jaw line. "Tony-"
He moved on to her lips, smiling again as all the fight went out of his irritatingly punctual friend-who-was-a-girl-but-not-his-girlfriend-despite-the-fact-that-they-made-out-on-occasion.
Actually, over the length of the week ensuing the first dramatic kiss in the cafeteria, the make-out sessions had done nothing but increase in frequency, and had been joined by a great deal of cuddling, mocking pet names, and four spectacularly embarrassing bowling games in which Tony had had his head handed to him. Ziva's overly-hyphenated title was only growing in length, to a point where even Tony himself was confused.
Ziva pulled back abruptly and flopped back onto the car's leather seat looking adorably breathless and slightly red-cheeked. "We are going to be late."
Tony reached over and laced his fingers through hers. Ziva's hand was oddly small in his. Several dark curls had broken free from her ponytail. She was smiling slightly, and there was a sudden rush of fierce affection in his gut.
He was scared suddenly, for a reason he could not define.
"Fine, fine, Ms. Punctual," he said finally, hiding his discomfort behind a teasing grin. He ruffled her hair with his free hand, partly to be obnoxious and partly because he had a weird fixation with her curls, and started the car. "Don't blame me if we're late, though."
Ziva looked affronted. "Who else would I blame? It is you who insisted on 'buckling my seat belt' for me-"
Tony interrupted approvingly. "Whoa. You just did finger quotation marks, babe. You're finally assimilating!"
Ziva accepted his celebratory bro-fist with a slight half-smile of pride. Again, Tony got that weird, clenching feeling in his chest. "Do not call me 'babe' unless you wish for me to start calling you 'sweety' again. And do not change the subject."
"What were we talking about again, light of my life?"
"Sexual harassment, honey."
"It's not sexual harassment if you retaliate. After all, I seem to recall you initiating the lip-to-lip contact, princess."
Ziva crinkled her nose. "Only after you started violating my personal space, darling."
"I fell," Tony returned innocently.
"On top of me?" she inquired in polite disbelief, raising an eyebrow. He grinned back.
"I have good aim."
She laughed, pressed another brief kiss to his lips, and then eyed her watch. "Perhaps Abby can wait another five minutes or s-"
Tony beamed, nearly said something very stupid, and quickly recovered by pulling the keys from the ignition and turning all his attention to his friend-who-was-a-girl-but-not-his-girlfriend-despite-several-admittedly-enjoyable-kisses-for-whom-he-might-just-have-feelings.
...
Abby was beginning to pout, red lips jutting adorably under a strawberry milk mustache which Tim liked far too much to sentence to death by alerting Abby to its presence, as she checked her watch once again. "They're late."
McGee checked his watch as well. "They're only three minutes late, Abs. Maybe they hit traffic."
Abby frowned, crossed her arms, and stuck her lower lip out even farther. "Ziva's never late."
"And Tony's always late," he countered. "So I guess they kinda balance each other out, you know?"
She smiled slightly, and plunked down her tall, frosted glass of strawberry ice-cream. "Timothy McGee, I do declare, you just said something romantic!" she exclaimed in a mock-Southern accent.
He grimaced. "Being around the two of them is doing things to my head," McGee lamented. "You know I find myself speaking without contractions sometimes. Sarah always makes fun of me."
Abby smiled and meditatively stirred her pink milkshake with her straw. "I think it's cute," she pronounced, nodding and making her pigtails bob.
McGee flushed as pink as Abby's milk mustache. He opened his mouth - to say what, he did not know - but was saved by the timely, if tardy, arrival of Tony and Ziva.
DiNozzo sprang from the driver's seat of the turquoise Mustang the moment he had pulled to a stop outside the diner and raced around to the passenger door. He opened the door with a courtly bow just as Ziva reached for the handle.
The Israeli girl scowled and punched his arm in thanks, then narrowed her eyes and dashed for the front door, Tony hot on her heels.
After a brief scuffle, a victorious Ziva yanked open the glass door of the diner with a smirk, letting it slam in Tony's face behind her.
Abby clambered to her knees on the red leather booth and waved her arms to catch their friends' attention. "Tony! Ziva! Hi! We're over here! You're late!" she called in rapid-fire.
The two sauntered off, squabbling all the while over the difference between sexism and chivalry, which - according to Ziva - was nonexistent.
"Hey, Abs," said DiNozzo, lazily wrapping the freshman in a one-armed hug. "You've got a milk mustache."
Abby immediately turned on Tim furiously, scrubbing at her upper lip with the back of her hand. "Why didn't you tell me?"
McGee shrugged. "I didn't notice." Privately, he mourned the departure of the faintly pink smudge.
"I am sorry we are late," Ziva said, sliding into the booth beside DiNozzo. "We were being followed, and Tony is not particularly adept at shaking a tail. I had to intervene."
Tony nodded, and McGee noted for the first time the slightly green tinge around the older boy's mouth. "She did something to a nerve in my shoulder and my whole arm went numb and then she grabbed the steering wheel and almost killed us . . . what, seven times?"
Ziva shrugged nonchalantly, craning her neck in an attempt to catch the eye of a waitress. "I do not enjoy having my father monitor my life."
Tim's brow furrowed. "It was Mossad?"
Ziva nodded, looking unenthused as she continued trying to wave over someone to take their order. "Yes. NCIS is in the navy sedan idling at the jewelry store across the street. This car is a new addition."
Tony shook his head, easily caught the attention of the nearest young waitress, and then turned his attention back to his non-girlfriend. "You are so much more intimidating than is strictly necessary."
Ziva simply shrugged and eyed the perky waitress' slightly flirtatious smile sourly. Tim and Abby politely pretended not to notice when Tony took Ziva's hand beneath the table.
Abby allotted the three a moment of silence upon the waitress' departure before clearing her throat pointedly. "So. Who wants to hear my awesome plan for school domination?"
"Are we trying to kill someone?" Ziva inquired casually, looking interested. Tony banged an emphatic, flat-handed palm down on the table top.
"There you go again, being overly aggressive. Do you enjoy presenting yourself as a psychopathic thrill junkie with a violence fixation?"
"Ahem."
McGee watched in sympathetic amusement as Abby attempted to regain the attention of the bickering couple.
"As I was saying, I have a plan," Abby said finally. "And I need your help. No killing people. Probably. Everything we'd be doing is legal. I think. Plus Michelle Lee would totally defend us in court if we got arrested, and she's on the debate team, so we wouldn't be convicted. Most likely."
Tony looked confused. Tim eyed the beginnings of another milk mustache tracing the delicate lines of Abby's upper lip. Ziva shrugged.
"I am in."
Abby high-fived the older girl, nearly toppling her glass in the process, and turned her expectant gaze on the two boys. "Well?"
"Tony will do it," Ziva said firmly, deliberately shifting closer to her non-boyfriend as the flirty waitress reappeared, laden with tall glasses of thick, chocolate shake. "Right, babe?"
DiNozzo grinned cheerily, thanked the waitress, and took a sip of Ziva's shake before handing it to her. "Whatever you say, Sugar-Lips."
Abby exchanged smirks and a fond eye-roll with McGee before arching a dark, questioning eyebrow at him. "You in, McGee?"
The milk mustache was back in all its pink glory. McGee grinned. "Anything for you, Abs."
Th-th-that's all, folks! *Dramatic, deep announcer's voice-over* What does Abby have planned? Will Tony and Ziva finally get around to talking about their feelings? (lol, yeah right) Will Styx finally decide where she's going with this case and give Gibbs a break-through? Tune in next week (or whenever I get around to updating this again, maybe sooner than next week, since I'm officially on Spring Break starting tomorrow) to find out on . . . Highschool Hazards! Which really should be spelled 'High School Hazards' with a space only Styx is stupid and lazy so shut up!
Oh. Review. Do it or the announcer man comes and keeps up a running monologue of your every action in his obnoxiously deep and velvety voice.