Ashleigh Anpilova


A sequel to Ziva's Advice.

Abby invites Tim to dinner.

An established relationship story.

Written: April 2009. Word count: 300.



"No!" Abby wailed. "No!" She turned the cooker on again. Again nothing happened.


Grabbing her cell she called her neighbor who told her the gas had been turned off and wasn't likely to be back on before the next morning.


She sat down heavily and gazed at the array of ingredients covering the work surfaces. Tim would be there in less than an hour and she hadn't got any food to give him. She'd talked to both Ducky and Ziva about a nice, simple but impressive meal to cook and had followed their advice. But now she was stuck.


"Maybe I can microwave it," she said, leaping to her feet and starting to throw things into dishes.



"Hey, Abby," Tim said, as she opened the door. "I brought this to go with dinner." He handed her a bottle of wine.


"Thank you," she said and sighed, before moving away from the door.


"What's up?" he asked.


"Nothing. Everything." She sighed again and led him into the kitchen.


"Wow. Um . . ."


"I know. It's a mess. There's no gas and the microwave hates me."


"It doesnít matter, Abbs. Let's get carry-out." He hugged her quickly, before opening the drawer Abby kept the carry-out menus in.


"I bet she would have coped," Abby muttered.


Tim stopped and turned around. "She? She who? Ziva?"


Abby sighed. "No. Agent Perfect O'Hannah."


Tim blinked. "Abbs?"


"I bet cooking is something else she's perfect at. Itís not enough she went to MIT and Johns Hopkins and can out-shoot Gibbs, well, Ziva, she's -"


"Not you," Tim said quietly, moving towards her.




"Abby. You're who I want. You. Not some . . . I love you, Abigail Sciuto. You. Now let's clean up, order a carry-out and . . ."


"And?" She looked at him.


Tim pulled her into his arms and kissed her.



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