Chapter Three-Friends are Friendly

A few weeks had passed since the surveillance operation that Ziva and her mentor had been assigned on and every since the ending of it, the pair found themselves hanging around each other outside of work more and more frequently as time passed. Ziva was surprised, but pleasantly so. They were becoming friends. Ziva and Monique both thought this to be a good thing, thinking that they would get to know each other and be friendly outside of the confines of Mossad. However, Eli was not too keen on this. In fact, that was the opposite of what he wanted.

That afternoon, Ziva was sitting in her quarters as she read a book. A book she was not paying the slightest attention to. It remained within her hands however, for reasons she was totally unsure of. Huffing a frustrated sigh, she slammed shut the book with vehement passion before tossing it to the other end of her bed. Her mind, no matter how hard she tried, was constantly on her.

Monique would not leave her every waking and sleeping thought. She was ever present in her brain, permanently etched there as well as her heart. Her frustration turned to annoyance and she lied back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She did this for the longest time and all the while, she imagined herself sitting up on that bed, with Monique sitting beside her, kissing her deeply as her hands roamed her all too responsive frame. Though, her internal and immoral thoughts were disrupted by a knocking at her door. Shooting out of bed, the Israeli rushed to the door and opened it. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw Monique on the other side of the threshold.

"Did I summon you with my mind or something?" Ziva thought out loud, certainly shocked that one moment she was daydreaming of this woman and the next there she was.

"Excuse me?" Monique asked in a laugh, finding Ziva's words to be quite humorous.

"Oh, um... nothing. I-I mean I was j-just thinking about you and well... now here-here you are." Ziva replied, her voice trembling and her knees buckling.

"Ha, well... I really do not know if I should be flattered or disturbed." Monique replied before bypassing the Israeli and entering her quarters. She looked around and then allowed her eyes to go to Ziva. "I like your place. It is very you."

Ziva swore she could get lost for days in that smile. She shakily shut the door before standing up against it. She swore that was the only thing keeping her from fainting. 'Pull yourself together. She is just a woman, just another woman. She is your friend and mentor, get a grip.' Ziva mentally reprimanded herself before pushing herself up from the door. She could do this. She could be normal around her. 'Oh, who am I kidding?'

"It is very small." Ziva responded, for it only had the main room, a bedroom, a bathroom and a large closet.

A tisk tisk sound left Monique's lips as she stepped towards Ziva, a smirk glowing across her face.

"Remember something, Dear Ziva." Monique started, before moving her lips to Ziva's ear. "Better safe than spoiled."

A shiver rushed down Ziva's spine and her heart jumped, beating ten times faster than it was before. She pulled back not even half a step to look Monique in her coffee brown orbs.

"What... what, uh, brings you to my room, Monique?" Ziva asked, blinking a few times as she waited for her answer.

"I wished to know if you were busy or not. Because, I would love to take you out to coffee." Monique replied, her European accent thickening.

Ziva swallowed hard, unable to control her nerves. She clenched her fists and bit her lip, this lasting for a mere few moments. However, Monique noticed it. Monique noticed her love interest's inner struggle, and how her control was diminishing and yet strengthening all in the same time. After a few moments, though, Ziva allowed her hands to uncoil and her lip to be relinquished before she verbalized a response.

"I would love to go to coffee with you."

And with that, Monique led the way to a local cafe about ten blocks away from the Mossad building and there that sat, outside of it, enjoying the beautiful sun and calm breeze. A waiter came by and got their orders and when he left, the French-Spanish-Italian woman reached out for the brunette in front of her and touched her hand gently.

"So, tell me, Ziva... what is about coffee that you like?" She asked, her accent so lustrous.

Ziva wondered for a few moments if this was just how her accent was, or if she made it purposefully making her tone saucy and sexy, as if to draw her in somehow. When Ziva heard the question, she was then perplexed. It made her think. What was it about coffee that she liked, anyway?

"I, uh... I enjoy how... people can make coffee into this art form, do you know what I mean?" Ziva replied, tilting her head.

Monique breathed a laugh and nodded, looking down at her lap before looking up to the Israeli before her.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Monique replied, running her tongue over her bottom lip.

"That question made me think." Ziva confessed, her smile widening for a moment. "I like people who can make me think."

Monique's little mischievous smirk played across her lips eloquently. Her elevator eyes scanned over what she could see of Ziva as her orbs conveyed questioning.

"Is that so?" Monique replied, eying her friend admiringly. "Good to know."

Ziva watched Monique's lips closely as she spoke, unable to keep from doing so. Those voluptuous lips in combination with her stunning accent made her more than a bit excited. She would dare even say that she was indeed aroused by the almost black haired woman before her. Discreetly, she crossed one of her long legs over the other and bit her lip. Just when she needed the distraction, their orders came out and Ziva began to drink her coffee.

"Ziva, you are my friend, are you not?" Monique asked after she took a drink.

Ziva paused her drinking before looking to the woman and nodded.

"Well, yeah, I would like to think that we are friends." The Israeli replied honestly.

"Then, tell me... why are you so wound up and uncomfortable around me?" She asked, pausing a moment before speaking again. "I mean, I could be wrong, but you seem so tense around me. Either that, or are you just tense?"

Ziva shook her head, denying her words before sipping more of her coffee, trying to ignore the mental images of Monique thrusting her fingers into her, making her scream. Monique, meanwhile, was eying Ziva curiously. 'Maybe if I rattle her up a bit... get a response... then I will know.', She mentally hypothesized as she looked at the eighteen year old.

"Perhaps I could massage you." Monique stated rather bluntly.

In an instant, Ziva choked on her coffee, certainly not expecting to hear such suggestive words coming from her mouth. Once the initial shock was over she shook her head.

"No, thank you!" Ziva exclaimed, wiping her mouth.

Monique could not help but to laugh, having her answer.

"Alright." Monique said with a curt shrug. "Your loss, Officer David."

Ziva David swallowed hard and felt her heart race and her breathing quicken. 'Fuck. What the fuck am I doing?' Ziva asked herself, mentally kicking herself for this. She was allowing this woman to get inside her mind, elicit emotion, fall for her. 'God, damn it, Ziva... she's a 28 year old woman.'

It worried Ziva even more that she thought the decade's age difference was her first thought, not the fact that she was a woman. Holding up an index finger, Ziva tried to settle herself, be okay with this but that all changed when Monique touched her hand again. She jerked away and looked to Monique before standing to her feet.

"I can't do this." Ziva said, walking off without her barely touched coffee. "I... I just can't, Monique." She added as she walked off.

"Ziva, I was just being your friend!" Monique called after her before looking back to the coffee she left behind. Grumbling under her breath, she began to hate herself for driving Ziva away. She was too assertive. She had pushed her too hard and too far too quickly. "Fuck."