Written for Hope
Ziva took the elevator down. She had not spent much time in the lab. Gibbs used Tim to courier, mostly, but this time she had her own evidence bag. Her own evidence, that she'd use to nail this particular Syrian turncoat, and maybe bump Tony off his pedestal as senior agent. Her lips curled at the thought.
The only question was where to put the bag. The lab didn't seem to have an inbox, and the sole occupant was dancing around the room. There was no music to dance to, though. Ziva, trained investigator, looked for earbuds on Abby's ears. None. So she cleared her throat.
Abby spun around, winked at her, and then continued dancing. She bopped around a computer console, and partially out of sight.
"Excuse me," Ziva called.
"Bop ch-bop," Abby said.
Ziva began to pace the small area just inside the door. "I am a highly trained and decorated Mossad agent."
Abby began to do what Ziva could only describe as the electric slide.
"I have killed men!"
Abby stopped. She peered over a computer monitor at Ziva. "Cool."
Ziva waved the evidence bag.
"Doesn't McGee usually bring those?"
"If you do this," Ziva said and smiled, "I will buy you dinner."
"Shalom."
* * *
"I don't usually play favorites," Abby said, over wine at Persimmon, "But there's no harm in getting to know the new girl, is there?"
Ziva pursed her lips. "Exactly. And there's no harm in us women sticking together."
"There's a rumor going around about you and the director and that."
Ziva took a sip of wine.
"Is it true?"
Ziva set down her glass and changed the subject. "Have you ever been to Tel Aviv?"
"No, but I hear all the best clubs in Israel are there." Abby raised her eyebrows meaningfully, to show Ziva that she'd meant gay clubs.
Ziva would grant her that much. "Yes. I've been to several."
"Really."
"Of course, I was on assignment. Make an arrest, or gather information..." She gestured with one hand. "But I still had fun. Anything with less than three motivations is not worth doing."
Abby tilted her head. "You don't just...go for things?"
Ziva smiled. "Not usually. And when I do, it of course never goes well."
"So..." Abby seemed to be mulling things over. "How many men have you killed?"
"Not so terribly many, I am sure. My hands did not become dirty, because my father was there. He just saw I was well-trained."
"He was the director guy?"
Ziva nodded. "Something like that."
"NCIS isn't so...nepotistic. We're a federal agency. We're not Alias."
"And I am not Jennifer Garner." Ziva laughed, her cheeks warming with the self-depreciation. "But... Gibbs and the director have history. And there is the bald man. It's all very..."
"Incestuous," Abby conceded.
"And all about knowing the right people."
"Am I the right people?"
Ziva pursed her lips. "Of course. I have a feeling you know everything. Cases are made on the evidence."
"Most people notice the tattoos first. The mad, corrupting power, second."
Ziva raised her glass to Abby. "I am not one of your Puritan Americans."
"Thank heaven." Abby clinked her own glass against Ziva's. "I'm beginning to like this."
* * *
Outside on the street, walking to the metro station, Ziva asked, "Your place or mine?"
Abby stopped in her tracks.
Ziva turned around and smiled. "Optional, of course."
"What are your three motivations?"
"You are a beautiful woman, I would like to know you a little better as part of my job, and..." Ziva smiled boldly. "The night is young."
"All right. I don't have any better plans. And I love your accent."
"What accent?"
* * *
At 3 AM, Ziva was lying naked on her back on Abby's bed, trying to decide between sleep and a cold glass of water. Abby was curled up against her side. Her head was on Ziva's stomach, and so she heard when Ziva's stomach growled.
Ziva chuckled. "I must have burned many calories."
"Be right back." Abby slapped her thigh, and then was gone from bed, leaving only the pain of sharp teeth against Ziva's abdomen in her wake.
Ziva swallowed. Abby's bedroom had a slightly musky scent. Sex and candles and something else. She inhaled deeply. Male? A brightly-colored painting of a black Jesus hung on the far wall. Ziva shifted on the pillows. She wanted to tell Abby it looked like Moses, but that would reveal too much. There was only one motivation for such an exclamation: inspiration. She bit her tongue.
Abby came back in, proudly holding aloft a bowl of strawberries. Ziva's mouth watered. She shifted again, giving all of her attention to Abby. Abby settled onto the bed, her hip pressing into Ziva's. She was smirking. Somewhere, out of sight, she had thrown on a white robe.
Ziva ran her hand over Abby's thigh. The fabric felt like cotton, but thicker, warmed already by Abby's body heat. Ziva had expected silk and she was fascinated. Her fingers crept along the edge of the cloth. The white contrasted against Abby's pale, but richer skin. Ziva slid her hand underneath, seeking more warmth. She followed long curves, and finally felt the first crinkled curls against her fingertips.
Abby cleared her throat.
Ziva looked up. Abby smiled, and said, "I thought you were quite beautiful reclining on my bed."
"Did you?"
"It was almost like art." Abby licked her lips.
Ziva, staring at those lips, seeing the new wetness on them glinting under candlelight, fell back onto the sheets. Her skin tingled. She wanted Abby's mouth on her. Instead, Abby placed a strawberry on her navel. Ziva sucked in her breath. Her stomach became concave. The strawberry had already lost it's top, and Ziva could see the round, flat surface and the fleshy, red fruit. The strawberry was cold on her skin. She imagined she could feel the dark seeds tickling her.
"Watch," Abby said.
Ziva watched. Abby lowered her head, bracing her weight with her forearm on the opposite side of Ziva's body. Her hair, hanging loose, brushed Ziva's stomach. Ziva wanted to stroke it, but she'd only been told to watch, so she concentrated on keeping her stomach indented. Abby scooped up the strawberry with her teeth. Still bending carnally over Ziva, she devoured the fruit, and swallowed, releasing a satisfying sigh that made Ziva shudder.
"I've never been someone's a plate before."
Abby looked into Ziva's face. Her lips curled into a smile. Strawberry juice dripped, one tiny drop, like clear blood, from the corner of her mouth. "What did you think?"
"It made me feel...useful. Used."
Abby moved up Ziva's body, and pressed a kiss between her breasts. Then she placed a strawberry there, where Ziva's heart was pounding. Ziva couldn't quite see it without going crosseyed, so she concentrated on the top of Abby's head. Abby bent and snatched the strawberry. Ziva felt the coolness leave her skin and mourned the loss. Then Abby kissed her again, right against her chest. When Abby's teeth grazed the side of her breast, Ziva wondered if Abby was going to reach right through her and tear out her heart.
She quivered. Her skin felt hot, her pulse increased. Adrenaline was surging through her, reacting to Abby's weight over her, and Abby's mouth barely brushing her nipple, which hardened until it ached. Ziva let out a little squeak. Then bit sharply on her bottom lip to quell anymore sound.
Abby straightened up, letting air pass between her body and Ziva's. "Where do you want the next strawberry?" Her voice was light and breathy, as if she hadn't been torturing Ziva a moment ago.
"I'm hungry," Ziva said.
Abby pressed a strawberry against Ziva's lips. Ziva parted them, and the strawberry landed against her tongue. She closed her mouth. Abby's fingers lingered on her lips. Abby watched her chew, and then swallow, and then Abby's fingertips moved to her collarbone, tracing the bone just below the skin.
"Another," Ziva demanded.
Abby's hand left her, and then another strawberry was against cheek. "It won't be as good as the first," Abby said.
Ziva turned her head and snapped her teeth, stealing the strawberry from Abby's fingers. Abby had been right; The strawberry wasn't as good, and neither of the next three Abby fed her restored the perfect combination of tartness, juice, and fleshy texture. The room temperature and Abby's handling had warmed them. But the hunger gnawing at Ziva's stomach abated, and she felt full and cozy.
"Where did you find strawberries, anyway? It's winter."
Abby smiled. "In summer, they come from California, or from strawberry fields in the South. In fall, Latin America sends them to us, along with raspberries and blackberries. In the winter, they are flown here, frozen in coolers, from the Middle East."
"You're feeding me Israeli strawberries in a bed in Washington, D.C., with Moses looking over us." Ziva realized the pleasures she had spoken too late. She pursed her lips and closed her eyes. But Abby merely let out a high-pitched cackle, and then Abby's weight was on top of her again.
Abby's breath was hot on her ear, and then Abby purred. "Technically, we're in Maryland. And there's more."
"I'm ready."
"There's one strawberry left," Abby said. "Do you know what goes best with strawberries?"
Ziva's eyelids fluttered open. Abby was smiling down at her, waving the strawberry in and out of her line of vision. Ziva's eyesight blurred. Abby's hip was against her thigh. The rough cloth rubbed against her skin and the friction made her feel even hotter. When Abby didn't move, didn't flinch, didn't ease up, Ziva remembered she had asked a question. "A bold Shiraz?"
Abby laughed. "Chocolate."
Ziva moaned. "Chocolate..."
"Do you like chocolate, Ziva?
"I am...woman."
"I like chocolate, too." Abby scooted down, and picked up a second dish, made of clear glass. Ziva could see the rich sauce inside. "Abby, what are you--"
Her words stopped when Abby delicately placed the strawberry on top of her mound. If she shifted, she could have knocked it off, but she held still, while Abby dipped a silver spoon into the chocolate and let it drizzle over the strawberry. The strawberry rolled off under the new pressure. The chocolate fell directly onto her skin, flooding dark curls, then running down her lips. Her center was already swollen and distended from her own lust, and the chocolate tantalized rivulets and bends.
Ziva could not imagine anything better than the warm, sticky sensation on her clit. But Abby bent her mouth, plucked the strawberry from the sheets, chewed. She pressed her open lips against Ziva. Her tongue, rough and wet, sliding through the chocolate, circled Ziva's clit. The dual sensations of smooth chocolate and textured tongue merged. Ziva moaned. She grabbed Abby's head, pressing her down. Abby sucked on her, focusing all her attention on the most swollen, aching part of her.
Thrashing on top of the sheets, her skin sensitized, her hips grinding against Abby's mouth, Ziva came. The orgasm rolled through her, leaving her toes tingling, and her chest breathless. When she could wet her lips to speak, the chocolate was gone.
Abby slid up her body and kissed her. Ziva slid her tongue into Abby's mouth, tasted chocolate again. She growled in satisfaction. Abby smiled against her lips, and then rolled off of her, onto her back. She asked, "Have you killed any women?"
"Yes, but I hate it. Women are far too beautiful." Ziva closed her eyes, stretching on the sheets.
Abby was chuckling. "How lesbian vampire of you."
"The Mossad are always creatures of darkness."
"That's so hot." Abby kissed her cheek.
Ziva realized that Abby had only had one reason for bedding her. Her own allure. The thought made her smile.
* * *
"Your evidence is done," Abby said, yelling at Ziva over the blare of loud rock music. Ziva had only just stepped out of the elevator. She blinked at Abby, trying to translate the message through the music's lyrics.
Abby cut the sound by clicking a key on one of her keyboards. Ziva smiled. "Tell me, Abby... What did last night mean?"
Foisting an evidence bag and a computer printout in her direction, Abby said, "Let's just say... You've finally been christened into NCIS. Welcome."
Ziva grinned. "Oh, I feel very welcome." She stepped back into the elevator, already studying the results file.
Abby settled back into a rolling chair. "I have a feeling," she said to the stuffed bat above her computer monitor, "That Ziva has done some christening herself."
The bat looked like it agreed.