"Last Call"


NCIS; Abby & Ziva; Rated PG





The Rusty Spike wasn't Ziva's usual hangout, but she'd made an exception for Abby. The young girl had looked like she needed a night out and, in the spirit of new friendship, Ziva had let her pick the place.

The interior was ultra-dark and heavy on metal and leather. The floorboards were pockmarked with stains that Ziva thought best not to dwell on. The dart board was barely hanging by a nail and the pool table had seen better days, five years ago.

"This is my second most favorite place to unwind," Abby leaned close and yelled in Ziva's ear. Combined with the jukebox blaring in the corner, the din in the bar had a combined decibel range rivaled only by Luciano Pavarotti and Screamin' Jay Hawkins.

"What is your first?" Ziva questioned.

"The cemetery."

Ziva smiled into her mug of Guinness; she should have guessed. She couldn't help but notice that even though Abby was smiling and seemed to be having a good time, the sparkle wasn't in her eyes. Not the "I- love-life" twinkle that Ziva had come to know. "You need to get laid," she said suddenly.

"What?" Abby asked, after she'd finished choking on her beer.

"You need to get laid, find a man, do the dirty deed, bang the…"

"I get it," Abby stopped her before she ended up talking like Tony. She thought about what Ziva had said. "Well, it has been a while," she admitted.

"There! That's what you need then." Ziva consulted her watch. "We have fifteen minutes until final call…"

"Last call," Abby corrected.

"We should be able to 'hook you up' by then." She scanned the room. "What about him?" She pointed to a man sitting in a booth. Tattoos covered every inch of skin that was visible.

"That's Ziggy, and he's got a girlfriend," Abby supplied. She pointed to a guy perusing the jukebox. "He's kind of cute."

"In a serial killer kind of way. You can do better than that." Ziva spotted a guy just walking in. "He's not bad."

Abby saw the hair sticking out above the back of the man's collar. "Too hairy." Abby pointed a man lounging against the wall next to the dartboard. "What do you think about that guy?" He was tall and skinny, dark haired, dark skinned and, as far as Ziva could tell, asleep. "He's very… dark," she answered diplomatically.

Abby laughed. "I've seen him here a couple of times before. I think of him as 'Mysterious Man'." She nudged Ziva. "Think I should go talk to him?"

Ziva gave her a grin of encouragement. "Why not? It doesn't look like he's doing anything else. You're young and single, he's…" She searched for the right word.

"A hot stud-muffin looking for the right girl to rock his world?" Abby supplied. She grinned excitedly. "I wonder if he likes coffins."

Just then, as the bartender yelled "Last call!" and Abby checked her lipstick in the mirror behind the bar, the door opened.

Ziva watched as Mysterious Man snapped to attention, eyes going wide and all body parts on alert. By the sudden twitch in his too-tight jeans, he liked what he saw. She turned to see what had caught his eye.

In the doorway had appeared a buxom blonde in a napkin-sized cocktail dress. She walked slowly up to the bar, hips swinging enough to let everyone there know she was going "commando" under her dress.

"Crap." Abby slouched on the barstool as she watched the mating dance happening down at the other end of the bar.

"I think she's lost," Ziva said, as if that could make everything better. "And those are obviously fake."

"No sex for me."

"Boys." Ziva spat the word out like it was nightshade.

"Yeah," Abby agreed. "If only they thought with their brain." She downed the rest of her beer. "Guess I'll be playing a concert for one tonight."

Ziva wasn't sure what Abby meant about a concert, but she hated to see her friend's confidence so battered. All she needed was the right words, the right kind of attention. "There's still time to stop by that adult store we passed earlier. Why don't we pick up a movie on our way back to your place?" She smiled. "We can pop corn and make fun of all the silicone-stuffed bimbos." She hesitated. "If that's all right with you."

Abby looked startled, then laughed. "I can wear my new black studded bustier and you can borrow my red leather catsuit - it should fit you - and we can take some pictures? Just to tease Tony and McGee?" The sparkle was back in her eyes.

Ziva slid off the barstool and wrapped her arm around Abby's shoulder. As they left the bar, neither one gave Mysterious Man nor the red-dressed hussy a second thought.


THE END




Copyright February 2007 by Cait N.


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Disclaimer: All characters are property of Donald P. Bellisario. No infringement intended.