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Title: Alphabet Drabble Meme: W is for Workout, X is for Xenophobia, Y is for Yogurt, Z is for Zipper
Fandom: Hollows, NCIS, Guiding Light, Devil Wears Prada
Characters: Rachel Morgan/Ivy Tamwood, Ziva David/Abby Sciuto, Doris Wolfe/Blake Marler, Andy Sachs/Miranda Priestly
Category: A little bit of everything really
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 709, 2583, 489, 620
Summary: A set of multi-fandom drabbles. I'll be posting a couple a day based on length. These very from a few thousand words to a true 100 word drabble.
Disclaimer: All characters and situations to belong to a bunch of different people and companies who are not me. Also I'm making no money off this.
Author's Note: At the end of the year I was about to give up on getting these drabbles written. I've had the prompts since MARCH. Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rysler for her encouragement and gentle prodding, because without that these never would have gotten done and I'm very happy they did.
Prompts: W is for Workout, Hollows, Rachel/Ivy,rainydaygirl11; X is for Xenophobia, Abby/Ziva, NCIS, pocketnympho; Y is for Yoghurt, Guiding Light, Doris/Blake, marleykaren; Z is for Zipper, Devil Wears Prada, Andy/Miranda, bsofthewest.
Warning: X for Xenophobia involves the use of racist language.
W is for Workout, Hollows, Rachel/Ivy, rainydaygirl11
My back hit the wall with a thud and then my head exploded into pain. I blinked rapidly as I struggled to focus on Ivy's face only inches in front of mine, as she pinned my wrists to the wall on either side of my head.
"Turn it, Ivy," I hissed. "This is just supposed to be a workout."
"And what do you call this?"
"Kicking my ass," I grumbled.
A smirk flickered across her lips, there and then gone. "You shouldn't make it so easy."
I kicked at her shin. She dodged to one side easily. Okay that was childish - and useless. But it had been momentarily satisfying.
Then Ivy shifted forward, pinning my hips and lower body against the wall with hers none too gently. I grunted. Ivy pressed into me again. I tried to squirm away from her, but she held me fast.
"Damn it, Ivy," I protested again. So what if I was repeating myself, she wasn't playing fair.
"What's the problem, Rachel?" Ivy asked, her voice dropping to that low, grey silk register that told me I was in trouble now.
"You know exactly what the problem-"
Her lips covered mine, swallowing whatever else I had been to say and reducing my brain to a pile of mush. I reached for Ivy, only to be thwarted by her grasp on my wrists. She didn't waste anytime, pulling her mouth away from mine, drawing a whimper of protest from me and then working her way across her jaw and down my neck.
By the time her lips reached the base of my throat I was almost panting with anticipation. Ivy's tongue flicked out, over the barely healed scar on my neck and I gasped, feeling a jolt of white heat shoot straight to my belly.
"We're never going to finish a workout this way," I protested. It was one of the stupider things I'd said that day, but she couldn't expect me to think when she was doing that to me.
In answer, I felt Ivy's fangs graze my skin. I shivered from head to toe. In the next instant her teeth sank into my skin and my knees buckled. The only thing holding me up was Ivy pressed up against me. My hands scrabbled for something anything to hold onto and in lieu of anything else, knotted into fists.
The world shifted, blurred into perfect harmony for just an instant as my aura merged with Ivy's. Then stars exploded in front of my eyes, leaving me limp and gasping in Ivy's arms. She let go of my arms and scooped me up effortlessly. Instinctively my legs went around her waist, clinging to her as I raised my arms to rest on her shoulders, my fingers linking together behind her head. It had taken more effort than it should have - a sign both of the workout and the small amount of blood Ivy had taken. I groaned at the thought of the brimstone she would surely be forcing down my throat tonight.
It was a small price to pay for being with her though. I lowered my head to her shoulder. It was getting heavy. Being that close to her without doing anything about it was hard though. I turned and nuzzled into her neck. She shivered, always sensitive there. Tentatively I flicked my tongue against her neck and then my lips closed over delicate skin, worrying at it.
"Rachel." Ivy sounded a little hoarse, her voice low and warning.
I lifted my head. "Jenks is gone right? And the kids aren't in the house. Bis is asleep."
"We-"
"-Are so going to," I countered. "You had your way and now it's my turn."
Ivy laughed. "But we'll never finish our workout this way."
I growled at her mocking tone and shifted my weight, letting go of her with my legs and sliding down her body until my feet were firmly planted on the floor. Then I pushed her back with a quick shove. She could have blocked it but she was laughing as she fell back against the couch. I followed her without hesitation, straddling her.
"It's okay," I whispered. "I have a feeling we'll burn off plenty of energy this way."
X is for Xenophobia, NCIS, Abby/Ziva, pocketnympho
"God damn towelhead." It was said in a low mutter - but one that was meant to carry.
Ziva tensed and raised her eyes to glare back at the man. Abby had been the one who had wanted to stop here. She needed a Caf-Pow fix and it was the only convenience store for fifteen miles. Ziva had had her doubts, but Abby had assured her it would be fine. She had gone in there a million times growing up. Ziva did not doubt that.
She eyed him considerately for a moment and then decided he wasn't worth it. She turned her back to him deliberately and walked away.
"Your ears stopped up too?"
Ziva heard the creak of the bathroom door. Abby was almost done. She could just pay and they could go.
"Hey, towelhead, I'm talking to you."
Ziva winced as she saw Abby freeze, coming down the aisle toward her. Then her face turned bright red and Abby was no longer walking down the aisle, she was storming down it.
"Abigail," Ziva said, quickly cutting in front of her before she could reach the counter. "Do not do this. He is an idiot." She rolled her eyes. "He cannot even be properly racist - if such a thing exists."
Abby grunted. "It's not funny."
"No, it is not," Ziva said in a low voice. "But it is not anything I have not heard before. Let us go. I do not wish to waste our time on an idiot like him."
"Fine," Abby said flatly, taking a step back, even as she gave him a furious glare that would have terrified a smarter man - or one who knew her better.
It was a short, silent walk out to the truck, where Ziva held out her hand for Abby's keys. Abby crossed her arms over her chest.
"I can't even drive now?"
"Not until you have had a chance to calm down."
"Fine," Abby huffed, plopping the keys down in Ziva's outstretched hand and stalked over to the passenger side.
Ziva let out a small sigh before she got in as well. She drove in silence for a moment, leaning forward to pass one slow moving truck after slower-moving car after another. She let the silence linger for a moment longer before she glanced over at Abby.
"I am fine, Abigail." She smiled and tried to make a joke. "I have been called much worse. He was just an idiot."
"He was more than an idiot," Abby said sharply, as she finally glanced up at Ziva. "He was an asshole. You should have let me-"
"What? Start an argument that you could not possibly win? A man like him will never change his mind."
"I could have done...something," Abby protested. "You should have let me. This is my home - where I grew up. I didn't bring you here to be insulted by some-"
"Abby," Ziva cut her off before she could really get started. "It is okay." She reached over and laid her hand on Abby's knee, finding bare skin below the edge of Abby's short skirt. "You do not have to worry about me. One rude word will not break me," Ziva said, as she turned off the main road and pulled down the short driveway, throwing the truck into park.
Abby glanced down. "At least let me say something to Mike."
"Your brother? What can he do?" Ziva asked, confused.
"Tell everyone in the family for starters," Abby said.
"And what will that accomplish?"
"There's a lot of us - aunts and uncles and cousins - if we all stop going in his store, well it's a small town. It'll hurt."
Ziva snorted and leaned closer, raising her hand to cup. "You are sweet, but it is not necessary. Do not worry about it."
Abby stiffened. "You keep saying that! But I do worry. Don't you get it?"
When Ziva stared blankly, Abby threw open her door and slid out, slamming the door behind her - hard - and left Ziva staring after her.
For a day that had gotten off to such a promising start, it had gone wrong so quickly. Worst of all, Abby was mad at her now.
*** *** ***
Ziva was leaning against the side of Abby's truck when Mike stepped out on the porch. He weighed nearly three hundred pounds. Most of it by Ziva's estimation was muscle. She wondered if he was angry with her now as well. It would simply be preceding further in the direction that her day was already going.
He walked up to her and then pivoted to lean up against the truck next to her. It moved as he sank back against it. Without moving her head, Ziva glanced over at him, intent on any flicker of motion that would telegraph a coming blow. It was habit.
"Abby seems pretty pissed."
Ziva sighed. "Someone was very rude when we stopped at the convenience store. Abigail was upset."
Mike nodded, folding his arms over his chest in a move that was disconcertingly like his sister, but as a gesture was far more intimidating. He squinted over at her. "Doesn't explain why she's pissed off at you though."
"I wish that I knew," Ziva said, with more heat than she had intended to. "I was the one that he insulted. It was not a big deal. I have been called far worse things than what he called me by people who's opinion I valued much more than that man's. It was nothing."
"Ah. There's your problem," Mike said. "It wasn't nothing to Abby."
Ziva furrowed her brow. "But it was just an insult."
"An insult to the woman she loves."
Unexpectedly Ziva felt her cheeks flush. She couldn't remember the last time she had blushed. "I, yes, but..."
Mike laughed. "Surely you've noticed how protective she is of the people she loves?"
"Well, yes. McGee. She worries very much every time he goes out in the field."
"And I'd be willing to bet she worries even more when you do the same."
"She has never said-"
He laid one massive hand on her shoulder. "Trust me."
She nodded, deflating slightly - not at his gesture, but at what he had said. He had given her much to think on. "So Abby is mad at me because...I would not let her be angry on my behalf?"
"Something like that," Mike agreed.
Ziva sighed. "Sometimes I do not understand her at all."
Mike's eyes narrowed and he pushed away from the truck. Ziva tensed.
"Maybe so. Maybe not. But I do know one thing - if you didn't understand her at least some, she wouldn't have brought you back here. You're the first person she's brought home in all these years."
"Ah..." Ziva wasn't quite sure what to say to that either. "I'm honored. I did not realize it was that big of a deal for her. I mean, yes, I knew she wanted me to meet her family. I was - I am - no one has ever wanted me to meet their parents before. I am not that kind of material, but Abby is special. I thought surely there had been others before me."
Mike shrugged. "How much has she told you about growing up here?"
Ziva smiled at the thought. "Some. How much she loved it here. About her coon dog and growing up in the bayou. She loves the people and the culture here."
"All that," Mike agreed. "But there was more. Abby loves the people, yeah. But not everyone was so accepting." He gave his shoulders a little roll. "With two deaf parents you hear things - a lot. Things they don't hear. Oh, they catch the looks and they know good enough what people are saying - and who's saying it. But it's different hearing it. And me and Abby - we heard the most of it."
Ziva's lips pressed into a thin line. "People can be very cruel."
Mike nodded. "That they can. Abby was always so sensitive to it. It didn't just make her mad; it really hurt her. But there was only so much she could do. She had a lot of determination, but back then she was just one kid."
Ziva cast a speculative eye at him. "People did not say so many things in your hearing once you got older."
Mike gave her a slow smile. "You got that right."
"So hearing this man call me that name - it reminded Abby of all these things that she hated and could do nothing about."
"Pretty much."
Ziva sighed. "And then I told her not to worry about it."
Mike winced. "How about you tell me just who did the name-calling?"
Ziva arched an eyebrow. The last thing she needed was to pull another Sciuto off the convenience store clerk today - especially since she wasn't sure she would have as much luck with Mike as she had with Abby. Not without seriously injuring or killing him and as Abby's brother, that was not an option. "Why?"
"'Cause I just heard my truck start up in back and pull out that way. The tires squealed. It's sure as hell not Mama driving like that. If Abby's pissed off and going somewhere like that, it's probably to give him a piece of her mind. It'd be best if we catch up with her."
Ziva set her jaw. "I will drive."
*** *** ***
Ziva saw the other pickup truck out front when they got there. The truck's engine was still running - even though no one was inside - and the front door was thrown open.
Ziva threw the truck into park none to gently and was out the door in an instant. Mike was only a step behind her, surprisingly quick for such a big man.
"You always drive like that?" he asked, in an aside.
Ziva bared her teeth in what could have been a smile in another time and place. "Every day."
"Damn," he whistled under his breath, and then followed her into the store.
Abby was standing in front of the counter, having just stomped her foot and was loudly and concisely telling the clerk off. He started to come out from behind the counter just as Mike walked in and froze.
"Mike? What you doing here, man?"
Mike smiled and walked over to Abby, who was glaring at he and Ziva both, and threw an arm over her shoulder. "Well, Dave," Mike said. "I heard you were giving my sister and her girlfriend a hard time and I should come tell you what a damn fool you were being before my little sister here fed you to the alligators." He said it so matter-of-factly that Dave just blinked - several times.
"Now, see here, Mike-"
But Mike just shook his head. "You just go on and apologize. Because you're not gonna like what happens if you say something I don't like."
"Mike," Ziva said stepping forward quickly. She did not want this to get out of hand. That was what they had come to prevent after all.
But he just laid his hand on her shoulder gently.
Dave stared at him. "You're just gonna let her talk to you like that?"
Mike took another step forward. "Yeah. Got a problem with that?" He loomed over Dave.
"Ah, no, man. No, I was just, well, you know."
"No, can't say as I do," Mike said shortly. "Now how about you apologize. Now." It wasn't a question - or a request.
Dave gritted his teeth and finally glanced over at Abby. "Sorry."
It was the most un-grateful apology Abby had ever heard, but she nodded toward Ziva anyway. "I'm not the one you owe the apology too anyway, you-" Mike's hand clamped over her mouth.
"You heard her," he said bluntly.
Dave looked like he'd rather chew glass. He couldn't quite make himself look directly at Ziva, more like the display behind her. "Sorry." It managed to sound more unconvincing than before.
"I accept your apology," Ziva said as gracefully as she could manage. She glanced at Abby and Mike; she was tired of being here with this ridiculous man. "Can we go now?"
Mike shot Dave one more look, then nodded. "Yeah, I think we can." He looked between them for a moment and smiled. "I'll just take my truck back." He tapped Abby on the shoulder with one fist. "See you back at the house, little sis."
Abby punched him back in the shoulder with far more force than he had used. "You ruined my fun."
Mike just shook his head. "Just go put your girl out of her misery." He didn't look surprised when Abby flung her arms around him in a tight hug, picking her up and squeezing her back just as hard.
Ziva was already back in the truck when he put her down.
"Thank you," Abby said, really meaning it.
Mike just nodded and watched her go. He let out a snort and then started back toward his own truck.
*** *** ***
"Turn off here," Abby said quietly, the heel of her boot tapping out a rapid jig against the truck's floorboard.
"That is not the way back to your mother's," Ziva noted.
"I know," Abby said softly. "I wanted to show you something."
Ziva relaxed slightly, and sank back into the driver's seat. She followed the road until the dirt ran out. Abby hopped out when she stopped, but this time turned and held out a hand out to Ziva.
With a smile, Ziva slid across the seat and took it, content to follow wherever Abby led. Which turned out to be a small, wooded clearing that bordered a lazily moving strip of dark water.
"This is where I used to come when I was mad and needed a chance to cool down - think."
"It is beautiful," Ziva said gently, uncertain what Abby wanted from her.
Abby turned and took her other hand then too. She sniffed her nose red, and looking like she was about to cry. "I'm sorry I got mad at you earlier. It wasn't... I was just..."
"It is okay," Ziva said quickly, rushing to stop Abby before she could start crying. She didn't think she could bear that. "Michael told me some things."
"Oh," Abby said softly. "I'm still sorry."
"I know."
"I wanted this trip to be perfect."
"It still can be," Ziva said. She smiled. "I like your brother very much." She loved the way Abby's face lit up when she said that even more. "It does not matter to me what fools like that man say," Ziva said abruptly. "But I do care very much what you think of me."
"Ziva," Abby started quickly and then just shook her head. She didn't know how to say everything she felt. There was so much. She settled for the simplest, the best. "I love you. I think you're one of the most amazing people that I've ever met. And I hate it when people hurt you."
Ziva nodded. "I understand that. I am sorry that I did not early. Truly it was not such a big deal, Abigail."
"It was to me." Abby sighed. "It's not worth us fighting about."
"Indeed," Ziva agreed.
"We should kiss and makeup," Abby declared.
Ziva grinned - and complied.
It was not the worst way to end a day that could have been very bad indeed.
Y is for Yoghurt, Guiding Light, Doris/Blake, marleykaren
"Oh, Mom, I think somebody put this in your cart by accident," Ashlee said, plucking out the offending item and sticking it back on the shelf in the dairy section.
Doris winced when she glanced up and saw what Ashlee was holding. "Uh, no, honey. I meant to grab that. You can just..."
Ashlee blinked. "But, Doris, you hate yogurt."
"Well, you know," Doris said as casually as possible. "People can change, Ashlee."
"Mo-om," Ashley protested. "You wouldn't even let me keep frozen yogurt in the house when I was trying to diet in case you mistook it for ice cream. You hate it that much and now you're buying it?"
"Ashlee," Doris said with just as much exasperation as her daughter had managed. "You're causing a scene."
"Because I have no idea what's going on," Ashlee said as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world.
Doris gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine, if you must know...it's not for me."
"So what you're saying..." Ashlee said slowly. "Is that you're buying the yogurt for someone?"
Doris held her breath for a moment waiting. Then Ashlee's face lit up with the brightest grin imaginable.
"It must someone pretty special, if you're going to all this trouble," Ashlee noted.
To her surprise, Doris was the one to light up this time. "She is. Very special."
Ashlee was trying to restrain herself, but she was fairly bouncing with excitement. Doris had never been this serious about someone for her whole life and knowing that Doris was willing to share that with her - well it was new, exciting and amazing.
"Is it anyone I know?" Ashlee asked, taking the yogurt back off the shelf and putting it back in the cart, noting that Doris had sprung for real the stuff, not the cheap grocery store brand.
"Maybe," Doris said. "Yes, actually. We started spending more time together after you left for Berkley. We never meant for anything to happen. I never thought she would be interested, but..." She smiled. "You never know, do you?"
"And you're happy, Mom?" Ashlee asked, but she already knew the answer.
"I am, honey. So happy."
"So who is it?" Ashlee asked, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.
"Blake."
Ashlee blinked, not sure she'd heard Doris right. "What?"
"You heard me," Doris said a little defensively. "I said it's Blake."
"But I thought she was with Frank Cooper."
"Well, she was for a little while. And then they broke up. Now we're together."
"And you're buying her yogurt."
"I am."
Ashlee smiled. "I'm so proud of you, Mom."
Doris flushed a little and looked down, unable to hold Ashlee's gaze. She had never imagined that they would end up like this - or that it could feel so good. If a little bit of yogurt was the price to pay for her happiness, well then Doris would be more than happy to pay it.
Z is for Zipper, Devil Wears Prada, Andy/Miranda, bsofthewest
Before Miranda Priestly, clothes were just something she wore because society dictated it. During her time as Miranda Priestly's second assistant, clothes were part of the job, important in a way that they had never been before. After she had thrown her phone into a Paris' fountain and flown back to New York City, she had expected clothes to lose their importance for her once again, but she had still found herself drawn to fashion. She would never be a fashionista and she had no desire to be, but she had gained an appreciation for the beautiful and it was an indulgence that she allowed herself whenever possible.
When she realized she was in love with Miranda Priestly, that Miranda was in love with her, clothes had become stress. Miranda was one of the most important and influential voices in fashion and she was no less vocal about it in her personal life. So every time Andy got dressed - at least for an important function or somewhere that she would be photographed - she dressed with careful intent and deep thought.
Sometimes Miranda helped and sometimes she didn't. Sometimes Andy let her and sometimes she didn't. This night was one of the latter. Andrea had gotten dressed alone in the downstairs bedroom that was really not a bedroom at all but a combination of dressing room and closet. The dress was gorgeous - vintage - everyone who had heard what she was going to wear had exclaimed that Miranda would love it. Andy wasn't so sure.
This was more than just a dress. It was a work of art, and it was exquisite. As ridiculous as she told herself it was, she felt unworthy of the dress. She wondered if Miranda would be able to tell when she saw her in it and if she would agree. Pursed lips or a smile. Only time would tell and Andy felt like she was hanging on tenterhooks, so focused on every detail and struggling to perfect it that she didn't notice the door open or someone slip silently into the room.
She didn't notice until she felt a cold hand against the small of her back. Her head snapped up and she gasped involuntarily. "Miranda!" Her hand leapt to to her chest, covering her racing heart. "You scared me! I didn't hear you come in."
"You were lost in thought."
It reminded Andy exactly what she had been so worried about and she yelped again. "You're not supposed to be in here! Not until I'm done."
Miranda tilted her head and Andy swallowed. "I thought you might need help with the zipper."
"I- But- How did you-" Andy shook her head at her own aborted questions. She was Miranda Priestly and she had her sources. Of course, she would know what Andy was wearing. And, Andy realized abruptly, she was also right. She would need help getting the dress zipped up. "That would be great. Thank you," was what she finally settled on.
Miranda gave a shallow dip of her head in acknowledgment and in the next instant, her hand had left Andy's skin, settling instead on her hip as the other caught the zipper. Andy couldn't see anything of what she was doing so every touch was a surprise. She was tensed with anticipation, almost jumping out of her skin as Miranda's fingertips skimmed up her back, following her spine up to the base of her neck. Andy was almost quivering by the time Miranda was done.
The touch of Miranda's lips to her skin just above the top of the dress made her shiver. "Miranda..." Her voice was breathy and needy. What she did to her...
"You are beautiful."
Fandom: Hollows, NCIS, Guiding Light, Devil Wears Prada
Characters: Rachel Morgan/Ivy Tamwood, Ziva David/Abby Sciuto, Doris Wolfe/Blake Marler, Andy Sachs/Miranda Priestly
Category: A little bit of everything really
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 709, 2583, 489, 620
Summary: A set of multi-fandom drabbles. I'll be posting a couple a day based on length. These very from a few thousand words to a true 100 word drabble.
Disclaimer: All characters and situations to belong to a bunch of different people and companies who are not me. Also I'm making no money off this.
Author's Note: At the end of the year I was about to give up on getting these drabbles written. I've had the prompts since MARCH. Many thanks to
rysler for her encouragement and gentle prodding, because without that these never would have gotten done and I'm very happy they did. Prompts: W is for Workout, Hollows, Rachel/Ivy,
rainydaygirl11; X is for Xenophobia, Abby/Ziva, NCIS, pocketnympho; Y is for Yoghurt, Guiding Light, Doris/Blake, marleykaren; Z is for Zipper, Devil Wears Prada, Andy/Miranda, bsofthewest.Warning: X for Xenophobia involves the use of racist language.
W is for Workout, Hollows, Rachel/Ivy, rainydaygirl11
My back hit the wall with a thud and then my head exploded into pain. I blinked rapidly as I struggled to focus on Ivy's face only inches in front of mine, as she pinned my wrists to the wall on either side of my head.
"Turn it, Ivy," I hissed. "This is just supposed to be a workout."
"And what do you call this?"
"Kicking my ass," I grumbled.
A smirk flickered across her lips, there and then gone. "You shouldn't make it so easy."
I kicked at her shin. She dodged to one side easily. Okay that was childish - and useless. But it had been momentarily satisfying.
Then Ivy shifted forward, pinning my hips and lower body against the wall with hers none too gently. I grunted. Ivy pressed into me again. I tried to squirm away from her, but she held me fast.
"Damn it, Ivy," I protested again. So what if I was repeating myself, she wasn't playing fair.
"What's the problem, Rachel?" Ivy asked, her voice dropping to that low, grey silk register that told me I was in trouble now.
"You know exactly what the problem-"
Her lips covered mine, swallowing whatever else I had been to say and reducing my brain to a pile of mush. I reached for Ivy, only to be thwarted by her grasp on my wrists. She didn't waste anytime, pulling her mouth away from mine, drawing a whimper of protest from me and then working her way across her jaw and down my neck.
By the time her lips reached the base of my throat I was almost panting with anticipation. Ivy's tongue flicked out, over the barely healed scar on my neck and I gasped, feeling a jolt of white heat shoot straight to my belly.
"We're never going to finish a workout this way," I protested. It was one of the stupider things I'd said that day, but she couldn't expect me to think when she was doing that to me.
In answer, I felt Ivy's fangs graze my skin. I shivered from head to toe. In the next instant her teeth sank into my skin and my knees buckled. The only thing holding me up was Ivy pressed up against me. My hands scrabbled for something anything to hold onto and in lieu of anything else, knotted into fists.
The world shifted, blurred into perfect harmony for just an instant as my aura merged with Ivy's. Then stars exploded in front of my eyes, leaving me limp and gasping in Ivy's arms. She let go of my arms and scooped me up effortlessly. Instinctively my legs went around her waist, clinging to her as I raised my arms to rest on her shoulders, my fingers linking together behind her head. It had taken more effort than it should have - a sign both of the workout and the small amount of blood Ivy had taken. I groaned at the thought of the brimstone she would surely be forcing down my throat tonight.
It was a small price to pay for being with her though. I lowered my head to her shoulder. It was getting heavy. Being that close to her without doing anything about it was hard though. I turned and nuzzled into her neck. She shivered, always sensitive there. Tentatively I flicked my tongue against her neck and then my lips closed over delicate skin, worrying at it.
"Rachel." Ivy sounded a little hoarse, her voice low and warning.
I lifted my head. "Jenks is gone right? And the kids aren't in the house. Bis is asleep."
"We-"
"-Are so going to," I countered. "You had your way and now it's my turn."
Ivy laughed. "But we'll never finish our workout this way."
I growled at her mocking tone and shifted my weight, letting go of her with my legs and sliding down her body until my feet were firmly planted on the floor. Then I pushed her back with a quick shove. She could have blocked it but she was laughing as she fell back against the couch. I followed her without hesitation, straddling her.
"It's okay," I whispered. "I have a feeling we'll burn off plenty of energy this way."
X is for Xenophobia, NCIS, Abby/Ziva, pocketnympho
"God damn towelhead." It was said in a low mutter - but one that was meant to carry.
Ziva tensed and raised her eyes to glare back at the man. Abby had been the one who had wanted to stop here. She needed a Caf-Pow fix and it was the only convenience store for fifteen miles. Ziva had had her doubts, but Abby had assured her it would be fine. She had gone in there a million times growing up. Ziva did not doubt that.
She eyed him considerately for a moment and then decided he wasn't worth it. She turned her back to him deliberately and walked away.
"Your ears stopped up too?"
Ziva heard the creak of the bathroom door. Abby was almost done. She could just pay and they could go.
"Hey, towelhead, I'm talking to you."
Ziva winced as she saw Abby freeze, coming down the aisle toward her. Then her face turned bright red and Abby was no longer walking down the aisle, she was storming down it.
"Abigail," Ziva said, quickly cutting in front of her before she could reach the counter. "Do not do this. He is an idiot." She rolled her eyes. "He cannot even be properly racist - if such a thing exists."
Abby grunted. "It's not funny."
"No, it is not," Ziva said in a low voice. "But it is not anything I have not heard before. Let us go. I do not wish to waste our time on an idiot like him."
"Fine," Abby said flatly, taking a step back, even as she gave him a furious glare that would have terrified a smarter man - or one who knew her better.
It was a short, silent walk out to the truck, where Ziva held out her hand for Abby's keys. Abby crossed her arms over her chest.
"I can't even drive now?"
"Not until you have had a chance to calm down."
"Fine," Abby huffed, plopping the keys down in Ziva's outstretched hand and stalked over to the passenger side.
Ziva let out a small sigh before she got in as well. She drove in silence for a moment, leaning forward to pass one slow moving truck after slower-moving car after another. She let the silence linger for a moment longer before she glanced over at Abby.
"I am fine, Abigail." She smiled and tried to make a joke. "I have been called much worse. He was just an idiot."
"He was more than an idiot," Abby said sharply, as she finally glanced up at Ziva. "He was an asshole. You should have let me-"
"What? Start an argument that you could not possibly win? A man like him will never change his mind."
"I could have done...something," Abby protested. "You should have let me. This is my home - where I grew up. I didn't bring you here to be insulted by some-"
"Abby," Ziva cut her off before she could really get started. "It is okay." She reached over and laid her hand on Abby's knee, finding bare skin below the edge of Abby's short skirt. "You do not have to worry about me. One rude word will not break me," Ziva said, as she turned off the main road and pulled down the short driveway, throwing the truck into park.
Abby glanced down. "At least let me say something to Mike."
"Your brother? What can he do?" Ziva asked, confused.
"Tell everyone in the family for starters," Abby said.
"And what will that accomplish?"
"There's a lot of us - aunts and uncles and cousins - if we all stop going in his store, well it's a small town. It'll hurt."
Ziva snorted and leaned closer, raising her hand to cup. "You are sweet, but it is not necessary. Do not worry about it."
Abby stiffened. "You keep saying that! But I do worry. Don't you get it?"
When Ziva stared blankly, Abby threw open her door and slid out, slamming the door behind her - hard - and left Ziva staring after her.
For a day that had gotten off to such a promising start, it had gone wrong so quickly. Worst of all, Abby was mad at her now.
*** *** ***
Ziva was leaning against the side of Abby's truck when Mike stepped out on the porch. He weighed nearly three hundred pounds. Most of it by Ziva's estimation was muscle. She wondered if he was angry with her now as well. It would simply be preceding further in the direction that her day was already going.
He walked up to her and then pivoted to lean up against the truck next to her. It moved as he sank back against it. Without moving her head, Ziva glanced over at him, intent on any flicker of motion that would telegraph a coming blow. It was habit.
"Abby seems pretty pissed."
Ziva sighed. "Someone was very rude when we stopped at the convenience store. Abigail was upset."
Mike nodded, folding his arms over his chest in a move that was disconcertingly like his sister, but as a gesture was far more intimidating. He squinted over at her. "Doesn't explain why she's pissed off at you though."
"I wish that I knew," Ziva said, with more heat than she had intended to. "I was the one that he insulted. It was not a big deal. I have been called far worse things than what he called me by people who's opinion I valued much more than that man's. It was nothing."
"Ah. There's your problem," Mike said. "It wasn't nothing to Abby."
Ziva furrowed her brow. "But it was just an insult."
"An insult to the woman she loves."
Unexpectedly Ziva felt her cheeks flush. She couldn't remember the last time she had blushed. "I, yes, but..."
Mike laughed. "Surely you've noticed how protective she is of the people she loves?"
"Well, yes. McGee. She worries very much every time he goes out in the field."
"And I'd be willing to bet she worries even more when you do the same."
"She has never said-"
He laid one massive hand on her shoulder. "Trust me."
She nodded, deflating slightly - not at his gesture, but at what he had said. He had given her much to think on. "So Abby is mad at me because...I would not let her be angry on my behalf?"
"Something like that," Mike agreed.
Ziva sighed. "Sometimes I do not understand her at all."
Mike's eyes narrowed and he pushed away from the truck. Ziva tensed.
"Maybe so. Maybe not. But I do know one thing - if you didn't understand her at least some, she wouldn't have brought you back here. You're the first person she's brought home in all these years."
"Ah..." Ziva wasn't quite sure what to say to that either. "I'm honored. I did not realize it was that big of a deal for her. I mean, yes, I knew she wanted me to meet her family. I was - I am - no one has ever wanted me to meet their parents before. I am not that kind of material, but Abby is special. I thought surely there had been others before me."
Mike shrugged. "How much has she told you about growing up here?"
Ziva smiled at the thought. "Some. How much she loved it here. About her coon dog and growing up in the bayou. She loves the people and the culture here."
"All that," Mike agreed. "But there was more. Abby loves the people, yeah. But not everyone was so accepting." He gave his shoulders a little roll. "With two deaf parents you hear things - a lot. Things they don't hear. Oh, they catch the looks and they know good enough what people are saying - and who's saying it. But it's different hearing it. And me and Abby - we heard the most of it."
Ziva's lips pressed into a thin line. "People can be very cruel."
Mike nodded. "That they can. Abby was always so sensitive to it. It didn't just make her mad; it really hurt her. But there was only so much she could do. She had a lot of determination, but back then she was just one kid."
Ziva cast a speculative eye at him. "People did not say so many things in your hearing once you got older."
Mike gave her a slow smile. "You got that right."
"So hearing this man call me that name - it reminded Abby of all these things that she hated and could do nothing about."
"Pretty much."
Ziva sighed. "And then I told her not to worry about it."
Mike winced. "How about you tell me just who did the name-calling?"
Ziva arched an eyebrow. The last thing she needed was to pull another Sciuto off the convenience store clerk today - especially since she wasn't sure she would have as much luck with Mike as she had with Abby. Not without seriously injuring or killing him and as Abby's brother, that was not an option. "Why?"
"'Cause I just heard my truck start up in back and pull out that way. The tires squealed. It's sure as hell not Mama driving like that. If Abby's pissed off and going somewhere like that, it's probably to give him a piece of her mind. It'd be best if we catch up with her."
Ziva set her jaw. "I will drive."
*** *** ***
Ziva saw the other pickup truck out front when they got there. The truck's engine was still running - even though no one was inside - and the front door was thrown open.
Ziva threw the truck into park none to gently and was out the door in an instant. Mike was only a step behind her, surprisingly quick for such a big man.
"You always drive like that?" he asked, in an aside.
Ziva bared her teeth in what could have been a smile in another time and place. "Every day."
"Damn," he whistled under his breath, and then followed her into the store.
Abby was standing in front of the counter, having just stomped her foot and was loudly and concisely telling the clerk off. He started to come out from behind the counter just as Mike walked in and froze.
"Mike? What you doing here, man?"
Mike smiled and walked over to Abby, who was glaring at he and Ziva both, and threw an arm over her shoulder. "Well, Dave," Mike said. "I heard you were giving my sister and her girlfriend a hard time and I should come tell you what a damn fool you were being before my little sister here fed you to the alligators." He said it so matter-of-factly that Dave just blinked - several times.
"Now, see here, Mike-"
But Mike just shook his head. "You just go on and apologize. Because you're not gonna like what happens if you say something I don't like."
"Mike," Ziva said stepping forward quickly. She did not want this to get out of hand. That was what they had come to prevent after all.
But he just laid his hand on her shoulder gently.
Dave stared at him. "You're just gonna let her talk to you like that?"
Mike took another step forward. "Yeah. Got a problem with that?" He loomed over Dave.
"Ah, no, man. No, I was just, well, you know."
"No, can't say as I do," Mike said shortly. "Now how about you apologize. Now." It wasn't a question - or a request.
Dave gritted his teeth and finally glanced over at Abby. "Sorry."
It was the most un-grateful apology Abby had ever heard, but she nodded toward Ziva anyway. "I'm not the one you owe the apology too anyway, you-" Mike's hand clamped over her mouth.
"You heard her," he said bluntly.
Dave looked like he'd rather chew glass. He couldn't quite make himself look directly at Ziva, more like the display behind her. "Sorry." It managed to sound more unconvincing than before.
"I accept your apology," Ziva said as gracefully as she could manage. She glanced at Abby and Mike; she was tired of being here with this ridiculous man. "Can we go now?"
Mike shot Dave one more look, then nodded. "Yeah, I think we can." He looked between them for a moment and smiled. "I'll just take my truck back." He tapped Abby on the shoulder with one fist. "See you back at the house, little sis."
Abby punched him back in the shoulder with far more force than he had used. "You ruined my fun."
Mike just shook his head. "Just go put your girl out of her misery." He didn't look surprised when Abby flung her arms around him in a tight hug, picking her up and squeezing her back just as hard.
Ziva was already back in the truck when he put her down.
"Thank you," Abby said, really meaning it.
Mike just nodded and watched her go. He let out a snort and then started back toward his own truck.
*** *** ***
"Turn off here," Abby said quietly, the heel of her boot tapping out a rapid jig against the truck's floorboard.
"That is not the way back to your mother's," Ziva noted.
"I know," Abby said softly. "I wanted to show you something."
Ziva relaxed slightly, and sank back into the driver's seat. She followed the road until the dirt ran out. Abby hopped out when she stopped, but this time turned and held out a hand out to Ziva.
With a smile, Ziva slid across the seat and took it, content to follow wherever Abby led. Which turned out to be a small, wooded clearing that bordered a lazily moving strip of dark water.
"This is where I used to come when I was mad and needed a chance to cool down - think."
"It is beautiful," Ziva said gently, uncertain what Abby wanted from her.
Abby turned and took her other hand then too. She sniffed her nose red, and looking like she was about to cry. "I'm sorry I got mad at you earlier. It wasn't... I was just..."
"It is okay," Ziva said quickly, rushing to stop Abby before she could start crying. She didn't think she could bear that. "Michael told me some things."
"Oh," Abby said softly. "I'm still sorry."
"I know."
"I wanted this trip to be perfect."
"It still can be," Ziva said. She smiled. "I like your brother very much." She loved the way Abby's face lit up when she said that even more. "It does not matter to me what fools like that man say," Ziva said abruptly. "But I do care very much what you think of me."
"Ziva," Abby started quickly and then just shook her head. She didn't know how to say everything she felt. There was so much. She settled for the simplest, the best. "I love you. I think you're one of the most amazing people that I've ever met. And I hate it when people hurt you."
Ziva nodded. "I understand that. I am sorry that I did not early. Truly it was not such a big deal, Abigail."
"It was to me." Abby sighed. "It's not worth us fighting about."
"Indeed," Ziva agreed.
"We should kiss and makeup," Abby declared.
Ziva grinned - and complied.
It was not the worst way to end a day that could have been very bad indeed.
Y is for Yoghurt, Guiding Light, Doris/Blake, marleykaren
"Oh, Mom, I think somebody put this in your cart by accident," Ashlee said, plucking out the offending item and sticking it back on the shelf in the dairy section.
Doris winced when she glanced up and saw what Ashlee was holding. "Uh, no, honey. I meant to grab that. You can just..."
Ashlee blinked. "But, Doris, you hate yogurt."
"Well, you know," Doris said as casually as possible. "People can change, Ashlee."
"Mo-om," Ashley protested. "You wouldn't even let me keep frozen yogurt in the house when I was trying to diet in case you mistook it for ice cream. You hate it that much and now you're buying it?"
"Ashlee," Doris said with just as much exasperation as her daughter had managed. "You're causing a scene."
"Because I have no idea what's going on," Ashlee said as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world.
Doris gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine, if you must know...it's not for me."
"So what you're saying..." Ashlee said slowly. "Is that you're buying the yogurt for someone?"
Doris held her breath for a moment waiting. Then Ashlee's face lit up with the brightest grin imaginable.
"It must someone pretty special, if you're going to all this trouble," Ashlee noted.
To her surprise, Doris was the one to light up this time. "She is. Very special."
Ashlee was trying to restrain herself, but she was fairly bouncing with excitement. Doris had never been this serious about someone for her whole life and knowing that Doris was willing to share that with her - well it was new, exciting and amazing.
"Is it anyone I know?" Ashlee asked, taking the yogurt back off the shelf and putting it back in the cart, noting that Doris had sprung for real the stuff, not the cheap grocery store brand.
"Maybe," Doris said. "Yes, actually. We started spending more time together after you left for Berkley. We never meant for anything to happen. I never thought she would be interested, but..." She smiled. "You never know, do you?"
"And you're happy, Mom?" Ashlee asked, but she already knew the answer.
"I am, honey. So happy."
"So who is it?" Ashlee asked, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.
"Blake."
Ashlee blinked, not sure she'd heard Doris right. "What?"
"You heard me," Doris said a little defensively. "I said it's Blake."
"But I thought she was with Frank Cooper."
"Well, she was for a little while. And then they broke up. Now we're together."
"And you're buying her yogurt."
"I am."
Ashlee smiled. "I'm so proud of you, Mom."
Doris flushed a little and looked down, unable to hold Ashlee's gaze. She had never imagined that they would end up like this - or that it could feel so good. If a little bit of yogurt was the price to pay for her happiness, well then Doris would be more than happy to pay it.
Z is for Zipper, Devil Wears Prada, Andy/Miranda, bsofthewest
Before Miranda Priestly, clothes were just something she wore because society dictated it. During her time as Miranda Priestly's second assistant, clothes were part of the job, important in a way that they had never been before. After she had thrown her phone into a Paris' fountain and flown back to New York City, she had expected clothes to lose their importance for her once again, but she had still found herself drawn to fashion. She would never be a fashionista and she had no desire to be, but she had gained an appreciation for the beautiful and it was an indulgence that she allowed herself whenever possible.
When she realized she was in love with Miranda Priestly, that Miranda was in love with her, clothes had become stress. Miranda was one of the most important and influential voices in fashion and she was no less vocal about it in her personal life. So every time Andy got dressed - at least for an important function or somewhere that she would be photographed - she dressed with careful intent and deep thought.
Sometimes Miranda helped and sometimes she didn't. Sometimes Andy let her and sometimes she didn't. This night was one of the latter. Andrea had gotten dressed alone in the downstairs bedroom that was really not a bedroom at all but a combination of dressing room and closet. The dress was gorgeous - vintage - everyone who had heard what she was going to wear had exclaimed that Miranda would love it. Andy wasn't so sure.
This was more than just a dress. It was a work of art, and it was exquisite. As ridiculous as she told herself it was, she felt unworthy of the dress. She wondered if Miranda would be able to tell when she saw her in it and if she would agree. Pursed lips or a smile. Only time would tell and Andy felt like she was hanging on tenterhooks, so focused on every detail and struggling to perfect it that she didn't notice the door open or someone slip silently into the room.
She didn't notice until she felt a cold hand against the small of her back. Her head snapped up and she gasped involuntarily. "Miranda!" Her hand leapt to to her chest, covering her racing heart. "You scared me! I didn't hear you come in."
"You were lost in thought."
It reminded Andy exactly what she had been so worried about and she yelped again. "You're not supposed to be in here! Not until I'm done."
Miranda tilted her head and Andy swallowed. "I thought you might need help with the zipper."
"I- But- How did you-" Andy shook her head at her own aborted questions. She was Miranda Priestly and she had her sources. Of course, she would know what Andy was wearing. And, Andy realized abruptly, she was also right. She would need help getting the dress zipped up. "That would be great. Thank you," was what she finally settled on.
Miranda gave a shallow dip of her head in acknowledgment and in the next instant, her hand had left Andy's skin, settling instead on her hip as the other caught the zipper. Andy couldn't see anything of what she was doing so every touch was a surprise. She was tensed with anticipation, almost jumping out of her skin as Miranda's fingertips skimmed up her back, following her spine up to the base of her neck. Andy was almost quivering by the time Miranda was done.
The touch of Miranda's lips to her skin just above the top of the dress made her shiver. "Miranda..." Her voice was breathy and needy. What she did to her...
"You are beautiful."
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