<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">Tim sank onto the couch next to Abby and reached for the food.  He'd promised Sarah he'd eat -- and if he didn't eat what she brought, Abby would unleash the puppy-dog eyes on him, and he was helpless against them.  <br/>
<br/>
To be honest, he was helpless against pretty much all of Abby.<br/>
<br/>
And what he really wanted was for her not to sleep on the couch.  Sarah had been right about that -- he was attracted to Abby, very much.  That was part of not wanting to break down in front of her... and paradoxically, part of what made him adore her.  He had no defenses against her, and didn't want to develop any.<br/>
<br/>
He stayed silent as he ate, not really caring what she put on the TV... just enjoying the chance not to talk, not to think.  To soak up her affection (even if he wished it were more) and just for a little while, pretend everything was okay.  Meal finished, he stood and stretched, scrubbed his hands through his hair.  "I'm going to take a shower."  And maybe he'd spend a little extra time in there, and indulge in a fantasy or two, so that he didn't embarrass himself while cuddling with Abby.<br/>
<br/>
* ~ *<br/>
<br/>
"Ziva," Tony said through the closed door.  It was an affectionate sigh.  He flushed the toilet and washed his hands.  "I had to hit the head," he said with a passable imitation of his usual smile as he opened the door.  "You didn't cross a line, and I don't want you to leave."  The line that had been crossed was in his own mind, after all.  It wasn't her fault that he was definitely having rule-twelve-breaking thoughts about her... and he didn't expect her to be having the same thoughts.  <br/>
<br/>
"I'm not used to being cared about, okay?  I'm not very good at it," he admitted... because the catch in her voice and the look in her eyes meant he couldn't ignore what she was saying.  "It isn't that I mind, I just... I'm not used to it.  After my mom died... nobody really cared until I came to NCIS.  Abby started it," he said with a half-laugh.  "But Gibbs cares too, in his own head-slappy way... and Tim and Kate..." <br/>
<br/>
He reached out and squeezed her upper arm.  "You are my friend, and my partner."  And that was all she could be, he reminded himself... even if he wanted her to be more.<br/>
<br/>
* ~ *<br/>
<br/>
Being naked on Kate's bed was surreal -- because he'd dreamed it a thousand times, and none of it could compare to reality.  He kissed her fiercely, his hands doing their own exploration of her skin, stopping at the waistband of her pants with another raised eyebrow.  (Being a functional mute had its perks -- she'd learned to read his eyebrows pretty effectively in the past two years.)  He wanted to touch all of her -- wanted to be touched.  And he didn't want to stop.<br/>
<br/>
He trailed a hand up her back, along her spine, pressing just hard enough not to tickle, until he reached her neck.  Then he used the hand on the back of her neck to guide his kisses... strong, and possessive, but with an almost palpable sweetness.  <i>This isn't just sex</i>, his kisses said.  The fingers tracing over her skin whispered wordlessly <i>let me make love to you</i>.</span></span>