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Description
TITLE: Disguises (1/4)
RATING: PG (will go up in later chapters)
AUTHOR: Ciara06
CHARACTERS: Abby and Ziva
PROMPT: Ziva proves to Abby she is a master of disguises and blending in.
DISCLAIMER: I own none of these characters
A/N: Okay this is done for the NCIS Femslash Ficathon over at LJ.  This is my first attempt at both an NCIS fic and any real hot and heavy flirting (and more ^.~) so I will love you forever for your comments and criticism.

-=-

“Truth or dare, David.”

Confused brown eyes glanced at the Goth, a dark eyebrow raising in question.  “Truth or…dare?”

“Come on you’ve never heard of Truth or Dare?  It’s the ultimate party game,” Abby said exasperatedly.

Ziva glanced around the empty lab.  “I was unaware that we were having a party, Abby.”

“Well it’s not like we’re doing anything else.  Come on, truth or dare.”

Ziva sighed.  It was true, they did not have much to do as they waited for the evidence to finish running through the mass spec and they were the only ones left in the building.  “Fine, truth.”

“Okay, hmm,” The lab rat spun in the chair, chewing her lips in thought.  Ziva watched her, smiling softly at how cute the younger woman looked at the moment.  ‘She is like a child deciding which candy she would like.’  All of a sudden Ziva wondered if she had made the right choice.  Suddenly Abby stopped, sputtering slightly as her pigtails got stuck on her lipstick.  “Puh, okay I’ve got one,” She said, smiling widely once her hair was free.  “Who taught you to cook?”

“My mother taught me most, along with my grandmother.  Then I just taught myself the rest,” Ziva said.  There was a bit of a pause where Ziva watched as Abby’s eyebrows begin to craw into her hairline.  “What?”

“Now you have to ask me truth or dare.”

“Oh, um…Truth or Dare?”  Abby chewed her lip in thought, making Ziva smirk again.

“Truth.”

Ziva thought for a time, thinking of what she was most curious about.  A few questions popped up, some making the Mossad fight down a blush before she finally decided on, “What was your first tattoo?”

Abby pulled her shirt up to expose her left side and pushed her skirt down slightly, exposing a small tribal design.  Ziva found herself imprinting the image into her memory, memorizing the expanse of creamy smooth flesh, the delicate jut of a hipbone and ribs and the slight shift of stomach muscles as the Goth took breaths.

“What is it?”

“It’s a design that my brother came up with.  If you look you can see the symbol of infinity in the middle, here,” She traced the pattern that Ziva had seen, but defiantly was not complaining to the longer view.

“Interesting,” Was all she was really able to say, finding her throat dry.  “So…my turn yes?”  She glanced back at the mass spec, willing it to hurry up to keep from saying or doing something stupid.

“Sure yeah.  Truth or dare.”

“Truth?”

“Do you have any tattoos?”

“No.  They make it difficult when I go undercover.  They can be too easily recognizable.”

“How often do you go undercover?”

“Is it not your turn?”

“Meh, answer the question David,” Abby said, her short attention span getting the best of her as she latched on to this.

“When working with Mossad I went undercover often.  I was considered one of the best at disguising myself.”

“What kind of disguises?”

Ziva shook her head, “I cannot say, Abby.  I would give away too many of my secrets.”  She did not like talking of herself or Mossad or much of her past in general.  Yet she found herself smiling as she spoke of this to Abby, unsure why she found herself so comfortable.

“I bet you just got lucky,” Abby said, her eyes narrowing, but the sparkle in green eyes let Ziva know she was being messed with.

“I do not rely on luck, Abby.  I have been taught well.”

“I dare you to show me.”  Ziva blinked, wondering if she heard right.  “Show me.  I don’t think you can.”

Her pride flaring up Ziva quirked an eyebrow and smiled, her dark eyes glittering with a predatory gleam.  “All right.  I will take your dare.  What are the rules?”

Abby chewed her lip again.  She hadn’t really thought that far.  Which was kind of stupid really considering she should have known that the Mossad officer would never have backed down.  “How about you have a week to prove it to me.”

“Give me two weeks to get my stuff together and you have a deal.”

Abby nodded, “All right.  Now to the best parts of bets.  What do you want if you win?”

Ziva chewed her lip, once more finding her mind filled with ideas but she found herself dispensing of most of them.  “I will think about it.  And what do you wish?”

“Dinner, cooked by you,” Abby grinned, thinking this a win/win situation all ready.  Either she’d get to see some cool Dana Carvey/Master of Disguise style tricks, or get a delicious dinner with the dark woman.  ‘Yep, defiantly win/win.  Though I really, really hope I win.’

Ziva nodded, not really minding that since it meant she would get to cook, one of her favorite pastimes, and she would get to spend more time alone with the beautiful brunette.  “Deal.”  The two shook on it, just as the Mass Spec beeped out its results.

Description
TITLE: Disguises (1/4)
RATING: PG (will go up in later chapters)
AUTHOR: Ciara06
CHARACTERS: Abby and Ziva
PROMPT: Ziva proves to Abby she is a master of disguises and blending in.
DISCLAIMER: I own none of these characters
A/N: Okay this is done for the NCIS Femslash Ficathon over at LJ.  This is my first attempt at both an NCIS fic and any real hot and heavy flirting (and more ^.~) so I will love you forever for your comments and criticism.

-=-

“Truth or dare, David.”

Confused brown eyes glanced at the Goth, a dark eyebrow raising in question.  “Truth or…dare?”

“Come on you’ve never heard of Truth or Dare?  It’s the ultimate party game,” Abby said exasperatedly.

Ziva glanced around the empty lab.  “I was unaware that we were having a party, Abby.”

“Well it’s not like we’re doing anything else.  Come on, truth or dare.”

Ziva sighed.  It was true, they did not have much to do as they waited for the evidence to finish running through the mass spec and they were the only ones left in the building.  “Fine, truth.”

“Okay, hmm,” The lab rat spun in the chair, chewing her lips in thought.  Ziva watched her, smiling softly at how cute the younger woman looked at the moment.  ‘She is like a child deciding which candy she would like.’  All of a sudden Ziva wondered if she had made the right choice.  Suddenly Abby stopped, sputtering slightly as her pigtails got stuck on her lipstick.  “Puh, okay I’ve got one,” She said, smiling widely once her hair was free.  “Who taught you to cook?”

“My mother taught me most, along with my grandmother.  Then I just taught myself the rest,” Ziva said.  There was a bit of a pause where Ziva watched as Abby’s eyebrows begin to craw into her hairline.  “What?”

“Now you have to ask me truth or dare.”

“Oh, um…Truth or Dare?”  Abby chewed her lip in thought, making Ziva smirk again.

“Truth.”

Ziva thought for a time, thinking of what she was most curious about.  A few questions popped up, some making the Mossad fight down a blush before she finally decided on, “What was your first tattoo?”

Abby pulled her shirt up to expose her left side and pushed her skirt down slightly, exposing a small tribal design.  Ziva found herself imprinting the image into her memory, memorizing the expanse of creamy smooth flesh, the delicate jut of a hipbone and ribs and the slight shift of stomach muscles as the Goth took breaths.

“What is it?”

“It’s a design that my brother came up with.  If you look you can see the symbol of infinity in the middle, here,” She traced the pattern that Ziva had seen, but defiantly was not complaining to the longer view.

“Interesting,” Was all she was really able to say, finding her throat dry.  “So…my turn yes?”  She glanced back at the mass spec, willing it to hurry up to keep from saying or doing something stupid.

“Sure yeah.  Truth or dare.”

“Truth?”

“Do you have any tattoos?”

“No.  They make it difficult when I go undercover.  They can be too easily recognizable.”

“How often do you go undercover?”

“Is it not your turn?”

“Meh, answer the question David,” Abby said, her short attention span getting the best of her as she latched on to this.

“When working with Mossad I went undercover often.  I was considered one of the best at disguising myself.”

“What kind of disguises?”

Ziva shook her head, “I cannot say, Abby.  I would give away too many of my secrets.”  She did not like talking of herself or Mossad or much of her past in general.  Yet she found herself smiling as she spoke of this to Abby, unsure why she found herself so comfortable.

“I bet you just got lucky,” Abby said, her eyes narrowing, but the sparkle in green eyes let Ziva know she was being messed with.

“I do not rely on luck, Abby.  I have been taught well.”

“I dare you to show me.”  Ziva blinked, wondering if she heard right.  “Show me.  I don’t think you can.”

Her pride flaring up Ziva quirked an eyebrow and smiled, her dark eyes glittering with a predatory gleam.  “All right.  I will take your dare.  What are the rules?”

Abby chewed her lip again.  She hadn’t really thought that far.  Which was kind of stupid really considering she should have known that the Mossad officer would never have backed down.  “How about you have a week to prove it to me.”

“Give me two weeks to get my stuff together and you have a deal.”

Abby nodded, “All right.  Now to the best parts of bets.  What do you want if you win?”

Ziva chewed her lip, once more finding her mind filled with ideas but she found herself dispensing of most of them.  “I will think about it.  And what do you wish?”

“Dinner, cooked by you,” Abby grinned, thinking this a win/win situation all ready.  Either she’d get to see some cool Dana Carvey/Master of Disguise style tricks, or get a delicious dinner with the dark woman.  ‘Yep, defiantly win/win.  Though I really, really hope I win.’

Ziva nodded, not really minding that since it meant she would get to cook, one of her favorite pastimes, and she would get to spend more time alone with the beautiful brunette.  “Deal.”  The two shook on it, just as the Mass Spec beeped out its results.