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Ziva closes her eyes against the memories of the past few days. Death, lies and betrayal. She's seen far too much of it. Taking a deep breath, she knocks on the door to the apartment in front of her.
She hesitates and then lets herself in. The door is locked. Not a problem.
She enters with her shoulder facing inwards, presenting the smallest possible target that she can, and then realizes that she's inexplicably nervous. Her eyes drop to the floor.
A trail of blood leads towards the kitchen perfect droplets and a few scattered smears.
Her gun is in her hand and she moves with deadly intent, dread already filling her heart. She scans her surroundings for any indication of attackers and listens carefully for the sounds of someone coming up behind her as she follows the path of blood, careful not to touch it.
She hesitates outside the door to the kitchen, and then pushes it open with all of her might, intending to catch whoever is inside by surprise. She will kill them.
"Shit!" Abby shrieks in shock. She holds her hand over her chest, fumbling with the towel that's wrapped around her. "Ziva?" Her voice trembles when she realizes that Ziva is pointing a gun at her.
"Planning on using that," she asks with a hint of her usual cocky grin still trying to grasp the situation. It's proving to be difficult.
"You're bleeding." Ziva lowers her gun, gestures behind her. "There's a trail of blood."
"That's-" Abby laughs, and then yanks up the bottom of her towel and brings up her knee for Ziva's inspection. A line of blood trails from her knee to her ankle and Ziva's eyes flash up to Abby's face in question. Her mind is still stuck on death and torture.
Abby lets her leg drop back down and steps closer to Ziva. She reaches out and holds Ziva's chin forcing her to meet her eyes. She is all seriousness.
"I cut my leg shaving."
Ziva stared and then glances down at her leg again. "Shaving?" She asks weakly.
Abby nods. For a moment Ziva isn't sure what to say. She laughs instead, until she can hardly breathe. Abby is laughing with her and it is the best moment of her week.
As they slowly calm and begin to catch their breath, Abby throws her arms around Ziva, towel and all. Ziva clutches her fiercely.
"Don't scare me like that again," she whispers against Abby's neck.
"I won't," Abby promises and leans in to claim an intoxicating kiss, "If you promise the same."
Ziva laughs again and holds her tighter.
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