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Drabbles - The Gibbs & Ziva Way

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Every once and a while Gibbs realized Ziva was a girl. Not that he ever forgot that she was a woman. A beautiful, sexy, smart, and stubborn woman at that. But she rarely let her "girly" side out. The side that cried at sad movies and screeched at spiders, and liked getting flowers and wearing flirty clothes. And the side that a shoe store could stop dead in its tracks.

He had almost laughed out loud at her standing in front of a shoe store window, practically drooling over the elegant evening dress shoes on display. He had occasionally seen her in high heels, but most of the time her footwear leaned more towards the practical, and given their job, practical was necessary. Oddly enough, to see her oogling strappy high heels with a besotted look made him happy. It was just such a girl thing to do.

He leaned in and pointed to a pair of impossibly high heels with the tiniest of ankle straps and said, "I like those."

She looked at him sideways and replied, "Mmmm, they are very high. Not very practical." And with that she turned and headed back toward the car.

Later that night he was picking her up to take her for dinner and his eyes just about fell out of his head as he took in the the low cut dress that clung to her every curve. It ended mid-thigh and the gorgeous expanse of leg she had showing ended in the impossibly high heels he had pointed out. When he shot her a questioning look, she replied with a smirk, "I said they were not very practical, I never said I did not like them."

It made him laugh, because it was such a girl thing to say.

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the end.

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Their story began through the violence of a madman, a madman she was related to. They were forever bonded when she killed that madman that was her brother to save him. And as time went by, they each wondered "what if" occasionally. But it wasn't until a bomb stole a decade and a half of his life from him that they broke. In that quiet, dark hospital room he held her and remembered, remembered not just the reality, but all of his "what ifs" as well, she had never forgotten hers. But his guilt brought on by the fresh grief of losing his first family wouldn't let him acknowledge his wanting of the "what ifs" and he left. And left her behind. But it only took one phone call from her to pull him home. To save her.

And after he had saved her, she saved him. They met in his basement, where it all began, and a hug of gratitude turned into a kiss better than any of their "what ifs". They never looked back, and never again had to wonder "what if".

Their story had many bumps in the road, and several detours along the way. And one could argue that the denouement to their tale was any one of a series of events. But if you were to ask them, they would both say without hesitation that it was the day that Ziva gave her husband Jethro his first son. Because everything they felt for each other, everything that was the foundation of their story, had been brought to life and now lay wrapped snugly in a blue blanket as he slept between the two people whose story he was the happy ending to.

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the end.

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He was fascinated. He traced the intricate designs first with his eyes, then he ghosted over them with his fingers. It was the first opportunity he had to see the tattoo on her back, she and Abby had attended a weekend spa retreat where the ancient art of henna tattooing was practiced and both she and Abby came back decorated.

His eyes followed every line of the pair of entwined serpentine dragons that took up her entire back, one drawn more feminine, one more masculine. But both drawn equally strong and equally fierce, with only one weakness, they shared a single heart between them, and if one died so would the other. They were chasing a dove of peace that was just out of their reach. As Gibbs explored all of the intricacies of the design he noticed something, something that would easily have been overlooked at first or second glance, but his analyzing eye caught it. Worked into the design of the male dragon's scales were the letters of his name, skillfully hidden in plain sight. He smiled as he looked at the female dragon to see Ziva's name hidden among its scales.

He followed the dragons' path towards the dove and he leaned in and gently kissed the spot on her back where the dove resided with shalom worked into its feathers. And as he took it all in he understood the symbolism. He and Ziva were two halves of a single heart, chasing a dream of peace that was always just out of their reach, together.

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the end.

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He pushed harder, with grunt. He was trying to erase the memory of the other man's hands on her, the other man's mouth on hers, the other man's body covering hers. He didn't care that the other man in question was Tony. Nor did he care that it was all part of their portrayal of married assassins.

His arms strained and he felt a bead of sweat trickle between his shoulder blades, and still harder he pushed, the white hot jealousy pulsing through him, consuming him.

He set a brutal pace as he stroked long and hard, fueled by the infra-red image of Ziva and Tony faking all too easily the supposed passion of the ones they were posing as.

His breathing was ragged, and the tip of his tongue caught in his teeth as he moved, the audio of their performances echoing in his head.

He just closed his eyes and kept stroking.

Gibbs was lost so deep in his jealousy that he didn't hear her, and it wasn't until Ziva put a gentle hand on his, stopping the sanding block that he was assaulting his boat with, that he was brought out of his almost fugue state.

She pried the block out of his hands and put it down. She placed herself between him and the boat and waited, knowing.

It took a moment for his breathing to calm and the haze to clear, and for him to realize that she was waiting for him to do something. And do something he did as his mouth fiercely found hers.

And soon all the things about that undercover op that were haunting him were replaced by the sights and sounds of the two of them making love right there against the spine of his boat.

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the end.

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He had made her laugh the entire flight, quoting Elvis in Blue Hawaii in a silly, near perfect impersonation. He moved from Elvis to John Wayne and then onto Clint Eastwood, his Dirty Harry effort dead on. She smiled as she looked at his relaxed and carefree demeanor, a Gibbs few got to see.

They were on their way to Hawaii for a special training seminar, and he had hand picked her to go with him. Truth be told, his motivation not at all professional, he had an ulterior motive. He wanted to be the one to show her the island's beauty, and to sit with her in the sand warm from the sun with a fancy drink with a little umbrella, and to swim with her in the crystalline water. And he wanted to fall asleep with her as they listened to nothing but the sound of the sea through their window after they had loved each other to exhaustion. He wanted all of these things and more, and had sneakily planned ahead, asking for some extra leave for the both of them after the seminar that had been easily granted.

He had a plan, and it started in motion when he took the lei from the welcoming hostess and slipped it over Ziva's head himself, and kissing her forehead whispered, "Aloha."

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the end.

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She traced the the myriad of little ones on his hands with her fingers, knowing they were caused by his obsessive woodworking. Her sensitive fingers had also found an old one on his scalp, one given to him by an angry ex-wife. She could see the the faint one near his hairline, courtesy of the bomb that almost killed him. She wanted to erase the the angry puckered one on his shoulder, that one given to him by her own blood. There were others on his body she knew, but the scar that she would have given anything to be able to heal was the one etched in his heart. The scar left when his family was ripped from him.

He didn't think of that one as a scar, to him it felt like a hole, an enormous chasm that left him hollowed out. He had tried through the years to find someone that could fill it, but no one ever could. That is until a beautiful, stubborn-as-he-was woman came into his life. And with her every touch he felt the edges of that chasm being pulled closed. He knew eventually she would close it all the way and there would be no more empty hole left, just a scar. And it would be a scar he'd be happy to live with, with her beside him.

She had finished her tactile exploration with a feathery kiss above his heart, and with a burst of energy belied by his relaxed demeanor he reversed their positions and began his own tactile exploration, because he wasn't the only one with scars that needed healing.

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the end.

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She watched it start around his eyes and spread over his face, a smile she had never seen before in full bloom. She had caught glimpses of that particular smile before, they did work for the Navy, but he never allowed it to bloom fully while on duty. But here, today, with the surf curling around their toes, he let it blossom as it may.

The tang of the sea air was strong, and the breeze cool as they waded into the water. A petulant wave broke in front of them, soaking them to the skin, and he laughed. He laughed a laugh she had never heard from Gibbs before, a laugh of joy and of merriment. And as he scooped Ziva up in to his arms to carry her out deeper among the waves he kissed her, and she tasted coffee and Gibbs and salty sea spray.

They played like children in that surf, wrestling and dunking and throwing pieces of seaweed. And later when the sun had gone done they sat in the still warm sand with a blanket tucked around them. The stars came out and they listened to the waves gently breaking. He was more relaxed than she had ever seen him, and Ziva realized why. He was with his first true love. The ocean.

She felt honored that he introduced her to his first love, and she now understood his passion to craft a perfect vessel by his own hand, it was his gift to that first true love. Later, after they made love by the fire that Gibbs built, Ziva realized as she drifted off to sleep, that he although he had introduced his love, the sea, to her, that he had also introduced his new love, Ziva, to the sea...

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the end.

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He watched the plane taxi down the runway and felt his heart breaking. She was leaving. Really leaving. Leaving the job, leaving the country, leaving him. She was going... home. Home to a place a half a world away from him. And he was too late to stop her. He watched through the window as the plane lined up for its takeoff, his hand on the cool glass as if he could stop the plane by the sheer force of his will alone. He should have told her how he felt, should have told her he didn't want her to leave, should have told her he loved her. But it was too late for any of that now. It was too late to even say goodbye, and the last angry words he had flung at her when he found out she was leaving rang in his ears. As the plane took off, he dropped his hand and with his eyes on the floor turned to go as he whispered to himself, "Too late." He had taken only a step or two when a soft voice asked him, "Too late for what, Jethro?" He looked up to meet Ziva's eyes and as the grin spread across his face he knew that somehow it wasn't too late.

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the end.

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Ziva was being sneaky, something she excelled at. And she had to be at the top of her game to out sneak Gibbs. Vacation requests were submitted to the Director, who signed off on them with a chuckle, plane tickets and a hotel booked surreptitiously. Ziva was practically vibrating with excitement as she packed her suitcase, all her efforts about to come to fruition.

She found Gibbs in his basement, and after giving him a kiss, headed back upstairs without a word. He figured she was going for a beer and didn't think anything of it. But when she didn't come back down he went looking for her. And found her, in his bedroom, which normally led to all sorts of pleasurable things, but today she was... packing a suitcase. His suitcase.

"What are you doing?"

She grinned, "Technically I believe it is kidnapping. But the Director and I agreed it was the only way to make you take a vacation."

"Vacation? What vacation?"

"This vacation." she said, handing him an envelope.

He pulled out tickets and a brochure for the Tall Ships Festival out in California. And just as he had when he had seen the poster for it weeks ago, his face took on a silly, youthful look.

His eyes met hers and he said with a chuckle, "You didn't.

"I did. We have an hour before we have to leave for the airport."

His goofy expression was worth all the effort, and all the sneaking around.

And it was one he wore for the entire trip, and it was one that was immortalized in the photograph of the two of them on the deck of a magnificent schooner that now resided on his dresser, right next his favorite vacation photo of Shannon and Kelly.

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the end.

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Gibbs fingered the rows of careful, tiny stitches gently, a little smile ghosting his face. The soft yarn was multicolored and the rows were a medley, going from white to yellow to pink to blue. Baby colors. Ziva had started knitting the blanket last week for one of the girls at the office that was having a baby. He had found out that she liked to knit when she went undercover at the speed-dating circus

The idea that his little assassin enjoyed something so domestic made him smile every time he thought about it. The same as it did every time he actually saw her with yarn in hand, which was often since they started sneaking around to see each other upon his return from Mexico.

She had somehow taken over a corner of his basement. It had started simply, with her sitting cross-legged on his workbench knitting as he worked on the boat, both enjoying the quiet companionship. Now months later, there was an old, comfortable leather wingback chair that he had hefted down from the attic, with a little table and lamp in "her" corner. And today he was adding a cedar chest that he had made to her corner, to hold all her yarns and projects and protect them from sawdust.

As he placed the half-done blanket in the chest he heard her behind him and teased, "I thought you'd be done with this one by now."

"I finished the first one a couple of days ago, but I discovered that I needed to make another," she said with a little knowing grin as she slipped her arm in his.

"Somebody else having a baby?"

"Yes. Us."

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the end.

Chapter Text

She smiled seeing Gibbs' name on her caller id and when she answered, it was obvious he was in a playful mood as he said without preamble, "I'm picking you up in a half hour. Jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt. A red one if you have one."

Ziva laughed, "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

And exactly a half hour later they were in his truck, heading for...

"A baseball game?" she asked as they parked.

It was in fact the opening day for the local farm team and the stadium was buzzing with children and families and vendors. It was pleasant chaos.

He bought her a team hat and a pennant, and they had their not-so-cold beer and hotdogs as he taught her the ins and outs of the game. He laughed as she got into the game, yelling and cheering. And the look on her face was priceless as the team mascot dragged her onto the dugout to dance, courtesy of Gibbs pointing at her, from behind her head.

They watched the seventh inning stretch antics on the field with the competing mascots and children. And in the final inning they were both on their feet cheering on a runner going for the winning run. And Gibbs found his arms full of a very excited Ziva when the runner made it home.

When it was all said and done, they were sunburned and hoarse from cheering, but they were riding a natural high. And as they walked with their arms around each other back to the truck, she asked, "Can we come again?"

He laughed and squeezed her in tighter, "I bought us season tickets."

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the end.

Chapter Text

They had pushed the coffee table out of the way and he had tuned the radio to a country station that played a lot of "old" country music. The music Hank Williams and Patsy Cline had crooned out so long ago. She stood in front of him, waiting. She only had to wait a moment before they were moving slowly, one of her hands in his, his other on her waist. Gibbs teased and told her, "Just follow my lead." And soon she had the knack of the steps, two slow, two quick. Their cadence an old one, one firmly ensconced in Americana. And his simple enjoyment of the dance and the music set a plan in motion in Ziva's mind.

It took a little research, and the arrival of a finally free weekend before she was able to surprise him. Without sharing where they were going she got him in the car and drove a ways out of the city to a smaller town that was home to a restaurant that she had found on the internet. Very plain on the outside, it was huge, and busy. Once inside she saw his eyes light up as he took it in, tables surrounded an enormous dance floor that had at one end a live country band warming up to play. The steaks were tender and the beer was cold and the music... well the music took him back to his father's day. And when his foot tapping finally got the better of him he pulled her out to dance with a laugh. And as they two-stepped around the dance floor, she again saw that simple enjoyment on his face, and it made her very glad to be the one sharing it with him.

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the end.