Usually, Abby was pretty graceful. She could wear a pair of four inch platform boots like nobody's business and, if the need ever arose, she could even run in them. Abby was confident in her shoes, which is why she never expected to trip and fall to her knees in the lab while holding her favorite beverage. She watched in horror as red liquid exploded from the Caf-Pow cup, floating for a second in midair before splashing down to earth once more, splattering all over the floor and herself. She sighed and stood up glancing mournfully at the puddle of her lifeline now coating the lab floor. After making a quick call to the building's janitorial staff (and silently thanking every divine being in existence that the liquid had missed any and all evidence and machines) Abby headed to the bathroom. On her way out of the lab, she removed her now sticky spiked collar and stained lab coat tossing them carelessly onto one of the tables.

The drink had splashed onto Abby's neck, the only part of her that was left unprotected by the lab coat. She could feel the sticky residue every time she moved. Abby pushed open the door to the women's bathroom and headed immediately over to the sinks. She turned one on and glanced in the mirror mounted above it. Sure enough, the pale skin of her neck and jaw was marred by a splatter pattern of red. Abby had just begun to run her hands under the water in preparation when the bathroom door opened, revealing a smirking Ziva.

"I see you spilled your drink," the Mossad agent stated smugly, moving slowly, almost predatorily towards Abby. Abby only smirked in response and turned back to the mirror, pretending to examine the damage more.

In the mirror's reflection, Abby watched Ziva come up behind her. The lab technician felt warm arms encircle her waist from behind followed by a body pressed up against her back. A tan chin rested itself on her shoulder.

"Such a mess," Ziva commented in a quiet voice, eying Abby's neck in the mirror hungrily.

"I came in here to clean up," Abby responded equally as quiet.

"It looks like you could use some help."

"Well, if you're offering," Abby sing-songed.

This thing between them was great; Abby and Ziva loved it. Every time she saw Ziva, Abby's heart beat faster, like a middle school crush only much more exciting. They had spent countless nights at each other's houses, and gone on many dates, but they were always careful at work. Working for NCIS came with its drawbacks as far as surveillance went. Every single part of the Navy yard was constantly being watched by an electronic security camera. As proud of their relationship as Abby and Ziva were, they were breaking two major rules by being together. One rule established by society; the other rule established by Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The latter being the one that terrified them more.

But rules were the last thing on Abby's mind at that moment when her lover brought warm lips to her neck. Gently at first, teeny butterfly kisses, followed by outright licks as Ziva masterfully removed the spilled Caf-Pow from her girlfriend's neck. Abby turned in Ziva's embrace and brought their lips together, savoring the combined taste of her two favorite things. Ziva's head dropped again to Abby's neck, this time biting gently, leaving teeny marks that Abby knew would be visible above all of her clothing and lab coats. Abby was careful to keep quiet, vaguely aware that they were still at work. She let her hands drop to Ziva's waist, then lower to the hem of her shirt, where she rested them, gently brushing the exposed patch of skin between the Israeli's pants and blouse.

The two women were engrossed in one another, completely unprepared for what came next.

Suddenly, a desperate looking Anthony DiNozzo burst through the door, clutching the crotch of his pants. All three individuals in the bathroom froze.

Tony began to shift from foot to foot, unsure of what to do. His options were limited to: jump into a nearby stall, wet his pants, question the scene before him, or disappear without a trace at the hands of the two women in the room.

Ziva made his choice for him.

"Very ispecial/i agent Anthony DiNozzo, what exactly are you doing in the women's bathroom?" She disentangled herself from Abby and moved to stand before the forensic scientist, back pressed to Abby's chest.

"I…the janitor closed all of the other bathrooms for cleaning. I had to pee!" Tony stated indignantly, glancing quickly at the stalls to his left and shifting uncomfortably.

"Then by all means, continue," Ziva said, moving closer to Tony before calmly continuing to speak. "However, if you ever mention what you just saw to anyone, both Abby and I will kill you," Ziva exited the bathroom then, a confident sway to her hips.

Abby watched her leave before turning to Tony.

"No Forensic evidence," she stated simply before following Ziva out.

Tony was lucky he didn't wet his pants.