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ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: 7.10 Faith

The Real Thing
By Jaina


"I could never eat you, Abby." She repeats Ziva's with a mocking lilt, unable to hold back the slightest whimper that manages to escape her lips. "Oh, you're evil, David," she murmurs to herself, trying to push aside the images that Ziva oh-so-purposefully conjured with her supposedly-innocent statement.

One hand is buried in dark, curly hair. Her fingers tangle in it and sweat-dampened strands cling to her wrist. Abby's other hand is clutching desperately at the sheets. The knuckles of both hands have gone white from the pressure of her grip.

"Ziva!" The other woman's name trips off her tongue and almost gets lost in a gasp as she arches up off the bed, almost unable to stand the sensations coursing through her body. It's too much and not enough. She needs more.

Her wrist flexes and she urges Ziva closer, deeper, faster. Ziva obliges and gives her just what she needs, drawing out her exquisite torture until Abby is begging and panting, her whole word narrowed down to a single focus. Then, and only then, does Ziva push her over the edge.

A kiss on the inside of her thigh, the juncture of her hip, the sensitive skin just below her belly button, all the way up her chest, the place where her pulse throbs at the base of her neck and then finally on her lips. With each kiss her world expands again from the pinpoint of focus that Ziva had created until she is awoken again, energy coursing back through her body once more. She pulls Ziva closer, but this time it's her lips that meet Ziva's, hungrily clinging and tasting.

Abby shakes her head, tossing her pigtails as a shudder runs through her from head to toe. "You didn't seem to mind last night," she whispers to no one at all.

"I prefer the real thing."

Abby jumps, her hand leaping to her heart. "You scared me. What have I told you about lurking?" She demanded.

"That you do not mind it as much as you once did." Ziva counters, leaning against the frame of the sliding glass door that partitioned off her office. "You find the Super Spy thing to be sexy, yes?" She says with a confidence that belies her question.

"Yes," Abby agrees, stepping closer. She frowns and stops where she is. "That was mean. Saying something like that at work." Her eyes narrow to a glare. "No fair geting me all hot and bothered and leaving me distracted for the rest of the day."

Ziva pushes away from the wall and closes the distance between them, her hands coming to rest on Abby's hips. The tips of her fingers find skin under the hem of her t-shirt. "Then you should not have offered when I could not have what I truly wanted - not some poor imitation of flour and sugar."

The End

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