It was finally 2200 hours and Ziva was barely managing to remain upright in the shower. Only her strong distaste for the griminess of travel had convinced her to stay awake long enough to get clean, and she looked forward to collapsing onto the bed in Abby's guest room. She stepped out of the shower, immediately missing the warm embrace of the steaming water, and quickly wrapped herself in the black towel with a pink skull insignia that Abby had hung up in the bathroom. Smiling to herself, she opened the door and walked to her bedroom to find Abby sitting on her bed with a bag at her side.
"Abby, wha---" Ziva began as Abby pulled a brush from the bag and patted a spot on the bed next to her.
"Thought you might be too tired to brush your own hair."
"Mmmm," Ziva responded, allowing the towel to fall around her ankles as she stood in front of her suitcase and pulled out underwear and pajamas.
She turned around, ready to receive Abby's ministrations, and was amused by the shock on the older woman's face. Too tired to think of a witty response, Ziva just quirked her eyebrow at Abby and sat down in the indicated spot, back turned to Abby.
As she began brushing her hair, occasionally pausing to add some sweet smelling cream that Ziva assumed would make her hair easier to brush, Abby burst out, "I wasn't staring you know. Well, I mean I was but it's just... Well, I thought you'd be a little more modest than that. Not that there's anything wrong with your level of modesty! I just mean, you know, that I didn't think you'd be comfortable with me seeing you naked. But I guess we're both women. I've got everything you've got and so on. Although, I must say that there is a big difference between us. You're way more exotic. I mean, tan and stuff. And we have different builds. And you don't have any tattoos. That I could see. I mean, that I noticed. Not that I looked everywhere. I mean, I guess you could have a small one that I didn't notice...."
Ziva allowed Abby to continue her deluge of words without interruption, enjoying the familiar rise and fall of her voice, her characteristic enthusiasm, and the gentle strokes of the brush in her hair. After a few minutes, she no longer heard Abby's words, only a soft pattering of sounds, and Ziva knew that she was almost asleep.
Suddenly, she awoke to find a blanket tucked around her and a pillow under her head. Ziva crawled up to the head of the bed, snuggled down into the sheets, and drifted back into a deep, dreamless slumber.