Purgatory
Chapter 2 - Fantasy
Morning twilight seeped past the bedroom window shades, pushing back the resistant darkness. EJ slowly opened her eyes, pushed herself up on one elbow and looked through the gray light of the room barely making out the clock on the wall which read 5:30 am.
The headache of an almost sleepless night had claimed its place behind her forehead. She sighed, sat up and dangled her legs over the side of the bed. She looked down at the long and worn NCIS tee shirt that hung over her petite frame, reaching down below her knees. She had slept in it every night for the past 3 months, washing it occasionally, but never spending a night without it wrapped around her. It smelled and felt like Gibbs and reminded her of the nights she had fallen asleep in his arms. Her heart grew heavy and tears of grief welled in her eyes. She swallowed hard and steeled herself, determined not to cry. She stood and walked out of the bedroom down the hall toward the living room to check on Tony.
As she entered the room and looked over at the couch the sight that greeted her brought a smile to her lips. Tony sat on the couch, fast asleep, slouched back and leaning against its right armrest, his legs outstretched resting on the coffee table. Ziva, also asleep, was curled up on the rest of the couch, her head against Tony's thigh using it as a pillow. EJ's heart fluttered for an instant with joy for her two fellow agents.
Over the past several months Ziva and Tony had been slowly working on opening up to each other, trying to get past their fears and insecurities - of which, God knew, they both had an ample supply - and explore their true feelings toward each other. They had made progress as trust and understanding were building between the two. Although not an "official couple", EJ had noticed their relationship become more relaxed, less competitive, with each paying more attention to the other's needs.
EJ remembered her brief conference room conversation with Ziva almost 6 months ago, the day she and Gibbs had almost ruined any chance of love between them. She had told Ziva to, 'screw the rules, before it's too late.' EJ knew Ziva had understood that she was encouraging Ziva to do something about her feelings toward Tony before life intervened, taking away any chance they might have to be together. It seemed Ziva had taken her plea to heart and both she and Tony were working hard at trying to figure out who they were to each other.
The joy in her heart for Tony and Ziva was quickly engulfed by an overwhelming sadness; the grief of knowing she would never have that type of love again. Gibbs was dead and she was alone. Fighting back tears EJ turned and walked softly down the hall to the bathroom, entered, closed and locked the door. Only then did she allow tears to fall, struggling to muffle the sounds of her sobs so as not to wake her friends.
She stood at the counter, staring at the large mirror behind the sink. She knew from her experience over the past three months that her sobs would dissipate in a few minutes. She was sick and tired of this routine and longed for the time when it wouldn't hurt so much. But she was beginning to think that such a time of relief was not in her future. After a short while her sobs subsided and the tears stopped; but the aftermath left her stomach nauseated and her heart aching.
As the tears ceased she examined her reflection. Instinctively her hand came up, touching her collarbone just under her chin, searching for her locket, but her fingers and eyes found only bare skin. It had disappeared sometime over the past several weeks, she wasn't sure how or when. It was silver with a carved, white, shell cameo rose set on a black, onyx background.
Gibbs had given it to her the day he left Hawaii - and her life - over ten years earlier. She could still feel his warm breath in her ear as he whispered 'I love you' while he slipped it into her hand just before he turned and exited the terminal, walking out onto the tarmac to board the Air Force cargo plan that would take him back to DC. Over the years she had treasured it above all other possessions. When they had rekindled their relationship six months ago she began wearing it always, removing it only to shower. And now, like Gibbs, it was lost - another part of him ripped from her life.
She turned on the shower and set the water to hot. Lately she found she liked her showers almost scalding; the pleasure and pain of the hot water seemed to wash away the heaviness of her nightmares. Waiting for the water to warm she shed her tee shirt and stared at the fragile and vulnerable woman looking back at her from the mirror.
In her mid-thirties, her diminutive and slender body was firm and toned, her skin soft and supple. Gibbs loved her body which, although small, was curvy in all of the places he enjoyed. He described her body as exquisite and would revel in it any chance he could. She loved his hands on her, exploring her, commanding her, exciting her in a way no one had before. They were a lover's hands, making her body sing in ecstasy.
She gazed at the woman in the mirror, mapping the contour of her shoulders and arms, her eyes moving to her petite and supple breasts. She followed her gaze downward exploring her narrow waist, the curve of her hips, then her strong and sleek thighs before the counter obscured the remainder of her legs. She hesitantly reached her right hand up and gently cupped her right breast, watching the reflection in the mirror as if observing a completely different person. The woman in the mirror tentatively brushed her thumb in a feather-soft caress against her erect nipple. She heard a gasp and saw the woman lean her head back and begin to close her eyes.
Leaning back with eyes closed she brought her other hand to her left breast, gently embracing it, and felt Gibbs' hands on her. His arms were around her shoulders, his hands caressing and kneading her breasts, pulling her back into his chest where she could feel his heart pounding into her shoulder. His breath was hot against her cheek as he trailed wet kisses from her ear, down the line of her jaw to the vein that pulsed in her neck. She leaned her head back, lost in him, giving him more access to ravish her neck and shoulder, needing his hot breath rushing over her as his attentive hands on her breasts fueled her growing desire.
Her skin tingled as the finger tip of one hand traced lazily down the center of her chest from between her breasts, moving slowly past her navel, meandering back and forth over her stomach, continuing to travel downward. Her breath caught for an instant, then she shuddered and let out a gasp as the finger slowly moved lower, grazing back and forth along the top of her curls, pausing there as he teased the passion within her from a spark into a flame. She could feel the wetness of her core answering to the magic of his touch.
Finally he moved down, slowly gliding his finger through the wetness of her folds, once, then twice. But that was not his intended goal. Slick with her desire he moved his finger back up and flicked across the crux of her passion. Her hips bucked against his hand and her body shuddered. Once more he visited his finger across it. A whimpering moan of need escaped her lips and she pressed her mound hard into his hand. Understanding her message he began to massage her in earnest, his entire hand now wet with her need, while exerting exquisite pressure and teasing flicks with his other hand to her breast and engorged nipple.
Her hips rocked side to side with the movement of his hand against her, each sway bringing her closer to release. With eyes still closed she concentrated on his hand as her breathing grew ragged; the surge of ecstasy building between her legs radiating up through her hips into her stomach and chest. He continued to expertly stroke her arousal, pushing her upward, building and climbing and clawing to a release that she must have - would die without. Her hips moved faster and harder against his hand as his fingers pressed more insistently. Her pulse pounded in her ears excluding all sound, her breathing stopped, her mind exploded in fire, her body shuddered and convulsed as she choked out his name while her trembling legs grew weak, almost collapsing.
Her breath came in racking gasps, her numb senses slowing returning. The heat in her core retreated from white-hot to smoldering, her desire deliciously quenched. As she slowly returned to her senses she smiled and felt his hands still on her, never leaving, his love for her without doubt. Her breathing, though still ragged, slowed and strength returned to her legs. She sighed and slowly opened her eyes to gaze into his which she knew would speak to her of love. Squinted through the steamy mist she searched the mirror for his rich, blue eyes, but they were not there to greet her. She saw only the woman, one hand on her breast, the other at her core, the rhythm of her labored breathing apparent as her chest rose and fell.
Despair engulfed her. An aching grief ripped at her heart. Strength left her and she collapsed onto the floor, curling her arms over her head as she sobbed into them.
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