Ashleigh Anpilova


Jenny and Ziva come from different worlds, but they can still connect.

A Jenny/Ziva first time story. 

Written: September 2008. Word count. 386.



It was in Cairo where they first met one another.


Their eyes met across the room and instantly an attraction flared between them.


Moving as if under a spell they both left the people they were with and made their way towards one another.


"Jennifer Shepard."


"Ziva David."


"I am very pleased to meet you, Ziva."


"As am I, Jenny."


Their differences were apparent:


Jenny was American. Ziva Israeli.


Jenny was older in years. Ziva in knowledge and experience.


Jenny had been taught to kill if she had to, but to try to ask questions first. Ziva had been taught to kill first and ask questions later.


Jenny had never experienced sex or romance with a woman before. Ziva had known men and women from the age of sixteen.


Jenny trusted people. Ziva trusted her instincts.


They were very different women.


All they really had in common was their gender.


They should shake hands and walk away.


But they didn't.


Instead they left together and found themselves in Jenny's room.


There Ziva taught her about making love to a woman; there Ziva taught her about loving another woman; there Ziva taught her about loving herself.


When the sun rose the next morning neither woman had slept.


Later that day Ziva showed how good she was, how she could spend a night making love, spend a night without sleep and not lose any of her skills.


Later that day Ziva proved her experience and knowledge was vaster than Jenny's, despite the difference in ages.


Later that day Ziva proved that killing first and asking questions later was sometimes, at least, a good idea.


Later that day Ziva saved Jenny's life.


That evening again they lay together in a bed, in a different room, in a different hotel, one that Ziva had arranged, one that Ziva had checked thoroughly before locking and securing the door. Then she'd taken Jenny by the hand, gently and tenderly cleaned the blood from her cheek and starting with a long, hot shower had spent hours once more showing Jenny what love was like.


As she was about to fall asleep in Ziva's arms, Jenny remembered an old saying 'if you save someone's life, you are responsible for that person for the rest of their life'. She rather liked the sound of that.



Melted is the sequel to this story.


Feedback is always appreciated

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