Ziva: Money? No. Fancy a Rave?

Despite success in her career, money accumulated in bills, parties and small home improvements. The rainy day fund looked like a dry Tuesday rather than a wet weekend, meaning she needed a few extra projects to secure her finances. Work put mini projects on the intranet, people wanting applications or plug-ins designing. Ziva had dabbled in creating mods for various games; a combination of these side jobs could prove lucrative. Patches pawed at her leg, unimpressed she was putting increased hours at the computer, she preferred the comfort, stretching her body, the sofa provided this and warmth from her human pet.

The demands on her time from new businesses eager to board the internet train had pushed Ziva towards her promotion. A Dot-Com pioneer for the masses, developing websites with fancy fonts and a host of code to support it. Some of the projects amused her, selling objects leave you confused over why you needed, a toilet roll and phone holder. Another charged the person to leave a comment; the price increased each time. Ziva did on occasion disagree with the work given; programming, however, it helped her unwind.

She loved her job; from helping those panicking over the blue screen, consulting in the development of new software and creating those little side projects. In private distractions, aside from Patches, Ziva needed to learn when to say no, refusing a party invitation seemed rude. Tonight’s party invite came from her crush, albeit a group gathering, Elizabeth made the call.

The Von Haunts Estate is known for the gardens, historic house and the place to host your wedding. Having people in the know, meant late-night raves and cheap drinks with the best DJ’s. Ziva promised herself to stay two hours; her budget would cover three drinks and a promise, taking the last train home. The steady speaker hum, thudding bass, a lost melody; Ziva danced hypnotised, the rhythm design to keep them enslaved. Time ticked, musical heartbeats tricked, colour bled, the sky brightened above them. There had been something magical, Ziva loved to watch the sunrise, it was better on her balcony with a coffee and after a nights sleep. From this side of the day, it came as the reminder she had surpassed her budget; it looked beautiful, worth the hangover.

The party vibed, despite opportunities to leave, Ziva refused to take them, another bout of laughed drew her attention, drinks at the bar with Elizabeth and the music, she danced, every song felt like her favourite. It had been a group of friends having fun, but with people drifting, Ziva struggled to keep her eyes open. She dozed, train ricocheted, dreams of pancakes, scrambled egg, slithers of bacon filled her head, she lacked the energy to make any. Stumbled slamming the door open, Patches yawned, a disgusted look, Ziva pouted, forgiveness from a cat was simple with a secret stash of chicken. Ziva slumped clothed on her bed, Patches full stomach purred loud, paws making biscuits.

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