"Wear a dress for me?"
When have you ever been able to resist Abby when she flashes those puppy eyes at you? But you have to make her think that she has to work for it sometimes, or she'll always use that trick on you.
"It'll be hot out," she says and starts to tick the points off on her fingers. "You'll want to stay cool, so nothing dark. There's going to be a lot of people there."
"What does a large crowd have to do with me wearing a dress?"
She flashes you a sheepish smile and shrugs. "Your legs wouldn't get too warm, like they would with pants. Besides, I've never seen you wear shorts unless you're running in really hot weather. And while I like how you look in your running shorts, I don't want other people leering at your ass the whole time."
That makes you smile. For being such a free spirit, Abby has a surprisingly strong jealous streak where you're concerned. You'll never admit it to her, but you like that she can be so possessive and protective of you.
"Will you be wearing your usual garb, Abby?"
"Considering I live in miniskirts? Yes. But no tights or other black clothes. It's just too damned hot out," she says and reaches up to tug at the ring on her collar. "I won't even be wearing this, Ziva."
That takes you by surprise. Abby doesn't often go out in public with a naked neck. The thought of being able to lean over and nuzzle at her throat sends a shiver of desire down your spine. She bats her eyelashes at you again, adding that lovable pout she knows you can't resist.
"Do you have something in mind?"
Abby was correct about both the heat and the crowds, making you glad that you took her wardrobe advice. Despite the number of years you've lived in America, this is the first time you've been to one of these events, and the whole thing is a bit overwhelming.
Looking around, you finally spot her coming toward you, parasol wobbling over her head as she tries to balance its handle along with two drinks, a large pretzel, and a cone of cotton candy. Somehow the crowds part easily for her, and the ground is relatively level, so tripping hazards are at a minimum. Abby grins broadly as she steps into the shade of the grand oak tree you've found shelter under. You take a long drink from one of the large plastic cups and relieve her of the pretzel, mouth puckering at the tartness of the lemonade.
"That hits the spot," she says with a grin, then takes a bite of the cotton candy. "So glad we found this tree."
"I am surprised that more people aren't taking advantage of the shade," you reply.
Abby shakes her head. "It's not too humid yet, so they're all taking advantage of the great summer weather. It's like this every year, Z. You'll see."
You nod and continue to eat your snack, sharing both pretzel and cotton candy with the abandon of teenagers in love. You thought you might be self-conscious in such a large, public setting, but you feel completely comfortable as long as she's there with you.
"Thank you for talking me into this, Abby." Your words are soft when you eventually speak, and then you lean in to press a light kiss to her cheek before licking at the small bit of cotton candy stuck to the corner of her mouth. "I am having a wonderful time."
"And you're getting such a yummy tan already," she replies with a wicked grin, then her face crumples into a pout. "But you're gonna have tan lines, aren't you?"
You smile and stroke her cheek, noticing how much darker your hand is compared to her pale skin. It has always been easy for you to get color in the sun. And you do love the contrast between the two of you.
"That can be remedied," is all you say before she pulls you closer for another, deeper kiss.
"Happy first pride weekend, Ziva."
"May this be the first of many we share, Abby."
Image initially from here