(A/N and Disclaimer: None of the characters, etc. are mine in any way, shape, or otherwise. I wrote this instead of doing my Drama essays and other school-related things when I had three lessons of doing sweet silver nothing due to the teachers strike at my school. (What exactly was the point of going in? All that I got was this fanfic completed, some Physics notes done, soaked to my skin in the pouring rain going home, and interrogated about my sex life. Why didn't I just stay home?!) Zabby femmeslash, nothing explicit- but a lot of citrus innuendo. Don't read it if you don't approve!
Either way; this fanfic, and all its grapefruit references, is dedicated to Rowan...Oh, and partly to Jenny too for persuading Daina that reading it wasn't a good idea. ...So, here goes nothing!)

It was more than just a want, or even a craving.
That would have implied that she could do without it, or else could suppress her frequent moments of longing by distracting herself - immersing herself in unrelated activities until the feeling subsided. For Abby, this was sadly impossible.

Just 'wanting' or 'craving' didn't come close to describing her many sleepless nights, followed by days of feeling nauseous with exhaustion as her entire body screamed for rest - though through her haze of fatigue, the pounding headaches and aching limbs that came with it barely reached her.

They didn't touch on the moments when she found herself physically unable to concentrate on anything but the thing she wanted more than anything else, until someone broke her reverie and, looking pityingly into her tired, red eyes; reminded her that she had a job to do. The first time that had happened, she had been mildly surprised to see Tony there, concern etched into his face as he enquired when she had last slept - or eaten, for that matter - and pointed out that her hands were shaking. Why were they shaking? She didn't know - she hadn't noticed. She barely noticed anything - but every time the thing consuming her mind every waking moment and even filtering into her fitful dreams at night was brought near her, it might as well have been the only thing in the room.

It was a painful way to come crashing down when Ziva's gaze slid past Abby's pleading eyes, and she was effectively and completely ignored once again.

She should have got used to it by now - at least, that was what she kept telling herself. She wasn't a fragile, naive little girl anymore; her heart anyone's to take - and then to break. She was Abigail Sciuto. She was older than that. She was harder than that. She was stronger that that.

But she wasn't.

Hypocritical though it may have been; despite her chipper exterior the one thing that Abby found incredibly hard to handle was being messed around in any way, shape or form in a relationship. And although she wasn't proud of it - it wasn't really something she'd have wanted broadcast across the bullpen with a loudspeaker - Abby had to admit to breaking her fair share of hearts in days gone by. Look at poor McGee! Even Tony himself, despite not being Mr. Tact and Diplomacy on any level, couldn't have failed to notice the poor Probie looking like a puppy that had just been kicked in the days following the breakdown of his and Abby's relationship.

She had really dished it out to some of the men and women who had flitted in and out of her affections - particularly those who clung on past their sell-by dates, and refused to accept that any kind of relationship they may have had was now officially over - yet couldn't abide having the same done to her. But she had always let them know that, in no uncertain terms, if they dared to do so - as tenacious as ever, she always wanted to have the last word even in the breakdown of a relationship.

But that was in her other life. Before Ziva.

She had had exes, both men and women - admittedly, mainly women - who had refused to get out of her life, but had never before had the problem of getting one out of her head. The others had lingered in her thoughts long enough for her to laugh about them afterwards for a day or so, then faded into the nameless, faceless masses who had tried and failed to win the heart of the impossible, untouchable, incomprehensible Abby Sciuto.

But she had known Ziva was special since Day 1 - or maybe even before then, when Ziva had first walked down into her lab and something in the Israeli's smile and deep, chocolate-brown eyes had penetrated the grief, rage and bitterness consuming Abby over Kate's death, and sparked the first tentative beginnings of interest inside Abby's mind.
It was around the time when Abby awoke in the morning to see Ziva lying next to her; already awake, completely naked and with a mischievous glint in her eyes, that Abby knew that this woman was different to anybody else she had ever met, let alone been lucky enough to sleep with. It was that realization that inspired Abby to hesitantly ask Ziva where 'they' were going - if anywhere at all - over two large mugs of Abby's preferred extra-strong coffee and grapefruit quarters the next morning.

'I like you - I think last night might have confirmed that. But...I want more than just sex, Ziva' she had said, unable to meet the other woman's eyes through her nerves. 'If you were interested...not that you would be...but...it's a real relationship that I'm looking for...'

Across the table, Ziva had blinked at Abby, looking puzzled and totally oblivious to Abby's overwhelming anxiety. She took a sip of coffee, looking pensive. Then, she had put down the coffee mug and looked Abby right in the eyes.

'Okay' she said. 'I think I can handle being Abby Sciuto's girlfriend'
Abby's eyes widened in surprise, as Ziva's sparkled opposite her.
'You...would?'
'I would...I will' Ziva replied, using the low, slightly accented and purposefully seductive voice that made the back of Abby's neck tingle. She stood up slowly, bushing her hand gently along Abby's arm, making her shudder involuntarily, as she walked towards the door.

As Abby began to process the implications of their conversation, an irresistible smile spreading over her face, Ziva's lilting voice reached her from the doorway.
'...If you're planning on joining me in the bedroom, make sure you bring the rest of that grapefruit with you...'

Any initial nerves Abby had were quickly lost that morning; in a blur of Ziva, emotion and citrus fruit.

Though it was several months ago, to Abby it seemed like just a few days since she first threw caution to the wind and reason out of the window, and tilted the petite brunette's face up to forcefully press her lips against hers. She had been surprised ever time another day - which stretched into weeks, and then to months - passed by in what seemed like such a short space of time - much more so that they were still together.

It was a strange turnaround for Abby to adjust to - she was used to feeling almost bored in relationships, longing for excitement of spontaneity that never occurred before finally giving up and ending it (-always as gently as possible, unless there was a very good reasons for her to do otherwise. She may have been a lot of things, but a completely heartless bitch wasn't one of them).
With Ziva, on the other hand, the whole situation - as well as her feelings for Ziva - was totally different to anything she had ever experienced. Every day was something new - with new opportunities for her to seek Ziva out, and find new places to fuck her senseless within the NCIS building while Gibbs' back was turned... and also, new possibilities of a tactless and inadvertent action or remark on Abby's part destroying everything they had created, with and around each other, as quickly and effectively as poison.

She had never understood other people feeling paranoid that their other half was on the brink of dropping them, when all she herself could see was a near-enough-normal, happy couple in no danger of disintegration. Since being with Ziva - who was already notorious for her hot temper and snap decision-making (which in Abby's opinion was nearly as reckless as her driving at times) - she had realized how it felt to be painfully aware of potentially getting to someone, and afraid of losing them through it.

But though no amount of begging, bribery, or blackmail (or, of course, grapefruit) could make her admit this to Ziva or anyone else, the accepted it as one of the many new things being Ziva David's girlfriend had brought her. If she hadn't realized immediately, she knew now that if you planned on being a fixture of any kind in Ziva's life, then 'change' was the operative word from the very first second. And no matter how hard she, or anyone else, tried; Abby certainly couldn't have called it a bad thing.

And then, in the space of a minute, it had all fallen apart.

Abby really hated the past. It refused to stay put - winding its way into the quiet, pensive moments of the day like caffeine through her bloodstream. It twisted her dreams into nightmares that left her waking up in a cold sweat; the dark reflections from her day somehow creeping up on her as she slept. The MOAS's of a lifetime built up on her; and knowing that dwelling on them would break down every defence mechanism and barrier she had woven herself, renewing age-old pain, she pressed them down into the depths of her mind until the only time it troubled her was when they haunted her dreams.

Unfortunately, having her girlfriend waking up screaming next to her became something of a worry for Ziva too. Abby had to admit she might have overreacted when Ziva suggested they go and see a specialist to help with her nightmares - just a little bit. Well. Maybe a lot.

'Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Ziva' she had snapped, angrily. Ziva had been visibly nettled.

'I wasn't trying to. You're so stubborn - always thinking you know best - it'd be a wonder if you listened anyway' she shot back. At this, Abby had stood up in anger; her fists shaking.

'You have no idea' she had hissed.

'Then tell me!' Ziva had almost shouted it - her tone half fury and exasperation, but half desperate pleading. She wanted to understand. But how could she? Abby deliberately ignored the tears sparkling in Ziva's eyes as her anger overcame her guilt.

'How can I? All you'll do is judge, criticize and condemn me for it; and then get furious at me for not telling you sooner' she said bitterly. Ziva's arms dropped to her sides.

'Is that how you see me?' she asked, quietly. 'Do you think I would?'
The quiet emotion of her voice, and the fact that she could tell Ziva was fighting back tears, made Abby want to spin round and throw her arms around Ziva and tell her that no, of course she didn't think of her like that - and apologize, and tell her she loved her.

She did none of those things. Without turning round, but regretting in the second she spoke, she replied coldly and in a voice devoid of all emotion '...Yes'.

There was a sound from behind her that could have been a gasp or a sob. Abby had shut her own eyes to prevent her own tears of anger, regret and pain falling. She was on the verge of turning round and taking it back, but Ziva spoke first.

'You think I'm that much of a heartless, judgemental bitch' she said. 'Well, I can handle what you think, Abigail. But let me tell you something. Everyone knows that Gibbs killed Ari. Well, that's what they've been told. There were three people in the basement the night Ari was shot. Gibbs, Ari - and myself. Gibbs didn't pull the trigger, and Ari didn't shoot himself...'

Sudden realization hit Abby with the force of a hurricane.

'It was you?' she said incredulously, turning round to face Ziva - against her will. Seeing the other woman's face, her jaw set, but her cheeks streaked with tears; was almost more than Abby's resolve could stand. 'It was me. I killed one of my own to protect a man I barely knew, and his team-'

'Like hell he was one of your own!' Abby said before she could stop herself. 'Nobody knows for sure whose side that bastard was really on, and-'
'Not my agency' Ziva said, her voice beginning to crack. 'My family...'
Her shoulders began to shake with suppressed sobs, as Abby's eyes widened. Ziva looked up at her.

'He was my half brother, Abby!' she yelled.

In a split second, Ziva's words hauled up the dark, distant memories from the depths of Abby's mind; the memories steeped in grief that she only wished she could forget forever. But that was never going to happen. Tears spilled down Abby's own cheeks as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing.

'How...you...your brother...-'
'I wanted to tell you, Abby; but I couldn't!' Ziva cried. 'I knew how painful it was for you and your team to lose Special Agent Todd, and-'
'Kate' Abby said quietly.
'...What?'
'Her name was Kate. That's how I knew her. And I knew her better than anybody - better than anybody else ever had, or would ever have got the chance to' Abby answered, breathing deeply to try and control her anger as well as her tears.
Ziva stared at her through her tear-filled eyes, looking totally nonplussed.

'What do you-?'

'Your half-brother' Abby managed, through gritted teeth and a heaving sob that refused to go away '-killed my girlfriend' Then, at Ziva's look of horror, pity, and downright shock, she carried on. 'Yep, that's right - me and Kate. Nobody knew. Not even Tony, though sometimes his crass comments came so close to the truth it terrified us. We were going to tell them eventually - when everything had settled down and Gibbs had got over his Ari paranoia. But we never got a chance. And - and your bastard of a half brother killed her!'

She hadn't realized she had raised her voice, but the last sentence came out so loud it made her ears ring. Ziva looked caught between agony and anger; but seemed unable, or unwilling, to argue against Abby's fury. The rage that had been building inside her bubbled up like lava - anger at herself, Ari, and even Ziva; though the latter was more just because she was in her firing line than due to her revelation about Ari - and even her pent-up grief and pain morphed into anger and came out barbed and bitter as she spoke.

'I wish I was dead instead of her!' she shouted. 'And I wish I'd never met you. I wish... I wish you'd have stayed in Israel and you'd never come here, never met me, never forced me to think about all this crap again! I wish you'd have just let me be - let me get over Kate in my own way. It's not like a break-up, when it hurts for a while and then you remember all the bad things and get over it. Kate was perfect in every way - and Ari took her away from me. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault.'

Her anger ebbed away a little; only to be replaced by exhaustion...and overwhelming grief. Abby sank down where she stood, pressing her hands to her eyelids as if to force the tears back behind her eyes. Ziva made a motion as if to put a hand on her shoulder, but then stepped backwards.

'I can't change who I am, or how Ari and I were related,' she said quietly - her sobbing had given way to silent tears falling thick and fast down her cheeks. 'But I didn't know about you and... Kate. If I had, maybe I'd have been less likely to start a relationship with someone who so obviously wasn't over their last partner. But I didn't - though I do now. And...I'm sorry' she finished simply. 'There's nothing I can do or say to change anything that's happened. But I'm sorry, Abby'

I'm sorry too, said Abby's mind.

'I think you should go, Ziva' said her mouth.

Wordlessly, Ziva had left. Her head in her hands - the shouting and crying had given her the beginnings of a terrible headache - and tears still coursing their way down her cheeks, the only indication to Abby that she was alone was Ziva's footsteps in the hall, and the click of her front door closing.
It was only once she heard Ziva's car start up outside that her shock and pain hit her with like a tonne of bricks; and she burst into tears until she fell asleep, still crying, on her living room carpet.

The past had reared its ugly head and destroyed the only relationship she had felt anything in since Kate. She hated it.

But she hated herself more.

The weeks they had spent together felt like hours; and the hours since they broke apart felt like weeks. Or maybe that was just how Abby saw it. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't left the house for three days after that night - faking a bout of food poisoning to escape from Gibbs' questions - or that she hadn't slept for more than two hours a night in the three weeks since a parcel of her belongings had arrived, without a card or explanation, from Ziva's. It was the ghost of Kate that had driven them apart - and yet Abby couldn't remember feeling this disconsolate since her death.

...Except that the Kate she had seen walking around the NCIS building had been nothing more than a painful, wishful fantasy. And she hadn't stared coldly at her, or ignored her completely. Ziva's white-lipped fury was easier to handle that being looked past without a word. Even Tony, McGee and Gibbs had had the sense not to say anything. The one time Ducky had gently enquired about their 'quarrel' Abby had left Autopsy so fast you'd have thought the body stretched out on the Cadaver table had jumped up and chased her out. She had been careful, though, not to let her tears fall until she was safety locked inside a cubicle in the toilets. First Kate, and now Ziva. She had decided it must be some kind of curse. The only two women who had ever actually mattered to her - who had managed to get under her skin and somehow, inexplicably, make her fall in love with them - were the two she had lost; one through fate, and one through her own stupidity and anger.

A quote of Shakespeare floated up through her exhaustion, and the numbing emotions she had become almost used to since the Ziva she knew left, to be replaced with this cold stranger whom Abby seemed to be invisible to.
...Beloved knows naught.
If she wasn't so heartsick and tired she could have laughed. It was appropriate. You really didn't know what you had until it was gone.

And now all she had was months of memories, the frustration and fatigue that were so very like withdrawal symptoms, and the image of Ziva's tear-stained face as her anger took hold and she had let rip at her. It she could...if she could see her - and force her to listen, and to acknowledge her presence even if it was for the last time - she wished she could apologize. She wished she could convince Ziva that no matter how much she hated Ari, she knew her well enough to understand that she was nothing like him - and hating her was impossible, even now.

Lying fully clothed on her bed, Abby rolled over to face the window. The sky outside was grey and overcast, and the clock read 7:18. It could have been morning or evening. She didn't know. She didn't care. All that really mattered, all that made sense, was telling her.

Standing up onto unsteady feet, dizzy from lack of sleep and from chasing her own thoughts round in a circle inside her head; Abby yanked on her platform boots and went out to start her hearse before she changed her mind.

Ziva was surprised to hear the doorbell ring. She was amazed anybody would want to visit her, considering how she had been snapping at everyone since her and Abby...her and Abby's parting of ways - and studiedly ignoring the woman herself. It didn't make her feel any better, and pretending not to notice her only made her more angry at herself for being so callous; but it was one way of getting through the day when they still had to work on the same team.

Stretching her stiff arms, she stood up; steeling herself to face the world whilst frantically trying to think of a way to deter whoever had come calling. As many good intentions as they may have had, Ziva wanted nothing more than to be alone.

She couldn't have been more stunned when she opened the door and saw Abby standing there on her doorstep.

Her initial reaction would have been to close the door immediately, but shock seemed to have paralysed her momentarily. Abby took advantage of that, and stuck her foot against the doorframe so Ziva wouldn't be able to slam it in her face.

'Abby, I have nothing to say' Ziva said, not looking at her.

'No, but I do' Abby replied, her voice hoarse. 'Please...hear me out'

Ziva's silence seemed to indicate to Abby that she wasn't going to say no. She took a deep breath, and without warning put her hand on Ziva's face, lifting her chin so she had no choice but to look back at her. Ziva tried to move her head away, but Abby grabbed hold of her hand and held it tightly in her own. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but their stare seemed to penetrate her defences like a laser beam - and against her will, she met their gaze.

She always did have beautiful green eyes...

'I have not stopped thinking about you since I told you to leave that night; and I haven't gone a moment without regretting what I said' Abby said, her voice low with emotion. 'Every time I've seen you in work I've felt as if someone's punched me in the stomach, because you ignore me, and I know I deserve it. I haven't slept, because even if I could sleep all I'd do is end up dreaming about you, and then waking up and remembering how I screwed everything up. And I've quit caffeine, because it only made me feel worse, but no amount of caffeine withdrawals can compare to missing you'

Ziva's eyes were shimmering with tears, despite feeling like she had already cried enough since she last spoke to the woman in front of her for an entire lifetime. Abby's, too, were welling up as she gripped Ziva's hand even tighter.

'I've never felt as terrible about the end of a relationship - and I've been through a lot of those - since Kate died' she continued. 'I mean it. I loved Kate - and it took a long time before I could stop thinking about everything we could have had if she hadn't have died. But one good thing came out of it, and I think if she could see us here she'd have been glad that it did' The taller Goth leaned in a little closer, to hesitantly press a feather-light kiss on Ziva's forehead. 'I got you'

'I...' Ziva was completely speechless. Despite everything that had happened, she could tell that Abby really meant what she said. 'I've missed you' was all she could manage.

'I've missed you too, Ziva David. More than words can say' Abby replied. 'And I know that what happened is something that either of us can possibly forget. But... if you can forgive me, or you think you could ever forgive me, then I want to give this another shot. If you'll take me back...-' Abby's breathing hitched, as a single tear rolled down her cheek - but she didn't take her eyes off Ziva. 'Nothing's worth losing. Least of all, you'

The rest of the world seemed to evaporate, as Ziva flung her arms around Abby - as she had wanted to since the second she stepped out of her apartment those few long weeks ago.
Passers-by may have been slightly perturbed by the sight of two woman crying and embracing outside Ziva's front door; but to them, it was all that made sense. There would be weeks, maybe months in which to talk, to explain, to pick up the pieces and put them back again. It would take them a while, but just having the chance to hold each other, and the possibility of making it right was enough for the moment.

It wouldn't be the same.
It might be better than before.
It wasn't a second chance.
It was their new beginning.

(Finally! Gracias to all the people who inspired me, gave me advice and ideas, and sold me grapefruit. Enjoy...maybe?)