The Point of the Game

The Point of the Game

Ziva throws all her attention into her target. Carefully she analyzes the distance, its exact location, and calculates her relative size strength and speed. Her surroundings are loud; music and people bombard her senses from every direction but long years of training have taught Ziva to take in and discards such distractions and she keeps her mind completely focused on the task at hand. Finally she judges her moment of best opportunity runs the short distance her arm snapping forward as she throws. There’s a band and a crash and she hears people behind her groan in unison. Ziva her self stands back perplexed then slowly walks back to where Abby stands by the scoring board.
“I do not understand.”
Abby looks up at her and smiles.
“Its ok Ziva you’re just learning. No one expects you to be good yet.”
“But Abby after years of being a spy and now a Special Agent, I can not bowl?”
Abby grins
“Don’t worry Ziva, bowling is an art.”
Someone yells Abby’s name and Abby steps forward picking up her ball, carefully aligning herself down the strip, and then throwing. All the pins crash to the ground and Abby shoots both fists up into the air as their team cheers. She picks her ball up again. From the sidelines Ziva watches her bowl feeling a strangeness settle in her stomach.
Bowling is a new experience for Ziva as is going out with Abby outside of the lab and these are all Abby’s friends, people she doesn’t know. Abby had asked her though, and Ziva has begun to find it harder and harder to say no to anything Abby asks. Furthermore Abby is wearing her bowling out fit complete with sneakers, poodle-skirt, and glasses and Ziva just couldn’t resist. Then Ziva’s up and she almost groans out loud as she makes her away up the front of the room and takes her bowling ball out of the rack. She fairs slightly better this time hitting more pins but she’s still nowhere nears as good as any one else there. A little voice in the back of her head tells her Abby must really be something special for her to be making a fool of herself in front of people she doesn’t know, but she quiets that voice. She walks back over to the table Abby’s gotten, and sits down next to Abby, who pushes a soda of some kind in a tall paper cup towards her. She take it drinks and discovers it’s coca-cola.
“Thanks for coming by the way.”
She looks up rather surprised at Abby.
“No. Thank you for inviting me to take-along on your night out.”
“Tag”
Abby corrects her gently.
“It’s usually said tag-along, and it’s no problem. I’m glad you came.”
Abby reaches across the table and lets her fingers brush against Ziva’s hand and Ziva bites down hard on the sudden electricity that shoots through her at the touch. Abby moves her hand but leaves it so it’s close but not quite touching Ziva’s as she turns back to watch the rest of her team bowl. Ziva sits quietly sipping her coke and watching Abby. Abby looks particularly beautiful tonight and Ziva isn’t quite sure what it is about Abby in that particular outfit that does it for her. It’s so unlike the clothes Abby usually wears yet she doesn’t look out of place in it, in fact Ziva knows very few people who would be able to pull it off as well as the tall dark-haired woman. Then again Ziva reminds herself she’s always had a soft spot for Abby in a skirt, she’d even liked Abby in her what had she called it, ‘Career Barbie’ outfit. Slowly almost cautiously she moves her hand so her fingers are touching Abby’s and then keeps it there. Abby looks up at her something almost like surprise but not quite in her eyes and then she’s being called up to bowl again and she moves away.
Afterwards they stand outside the bowling ally saying goodbye to Abby’s friends. For a few minutes after the last one walks away, they stand awkwardly in silence next to each other until Abby turns to face Ziva.
“Would you like to come back to my place for a while.”
Ziva almost can’t believe she heard correctly, but she nods and they get into Abby’s car together. Abby’s apartment’s both everything Ziva imagined and a lot more normal then she expected. She sits on the black couch in the living room and when Abby sits down on the couch next to her Ziva reaches out an arm pulling the taller woman down slightly and kisses her on the lips. Abby’s arms come around her neck and she’s kissing back her mouth opening for Ziva. In some part of her mind Ziva realizes she’s been right Abby tastes just as sweet as Ziva has always known she would, and then Abby’s hands are in her hair and Ziva stops thinking at all.
The taste and smell and feel of Abby is intoxicating all on its own, and Ziva suddenly can't get enough. Next thing she realizes she’s leaning back against the couch with Abby sitting in her lap arms wrapped around her, skirt hiked up, still kissing her for all she’s worth. Ziva tangles her fingers in the stiff cloth of Abby’s skirt fingers brushing against the other woman’s thighs and Abby makes a soft noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Ziva breaks the kiss they’ve been lost in and moves tipping Abby gently off her lap and letting the taller woman fall onto the couch Ziva leaning over her.
“We could go to bed?”
She suggests still staring down at Abby.
“Or we could just stay here.”
And Abby smiles and pulls her back down. In the morning, Ziva thinks before Abby kisses her again and stops her from thinking at all, she’ll have to ask whether this is what Abby’s been planning all along. Then maybe she’ll tell Abby how much she likes her in skirts, and they can go from there.