Oh, you know, just another senseless drabble thingie that was bugging me throughout dance rehearsal. Like? Love? Review? Please. Does this girl own? Zilch.

-Livvy


He comes to her in the dark depths of night. When no one is watching, when no one can judge; that way no one has the audacity to tell them it's wrong.
The trigger isn't a set thing. They get caught in a tight space; a dark one. So close together they can feel one another's pulse. Her's steady, his is erratic. They share a bed that night.

And the next, because she awoke to the smell of him on her sheets and couldn't resist the urge to bring him to a musk-smelling bar and dance with him after the case that day.

And then they danced a couple more times, after the bar endeavor is finished and the dawn lightens everything.

The sunrise makes everything different. It makes a resolution that life has to return to normal.

And it does, but it's never really the same again.

Another time, it was a bullet that stroked his shoulder and tore flesh and tore her in two. Well, kind of.

In interrogation, she broke the bastards nose and laughed. To most it would be frightening. Gibbs didn't give it a second glance. That night, Ziva went home with his senior field agent and fucked him until everything was buzzing and numb and the grazing didn't throb anymore.

Well, another part of his body throbbed very much so.

The next morning she was gone.

One time all it took was a brush of hands. An exchange of glance. A scent. A sight.

A word; balanced precariously on the tip of that tongue he knows she can do miracles with.

After the fifth or sixth time, they both stop giving a damn it's happening. But they never bring it into another day.

In fact, there are never outward signs. Society never knows.

Because if society knew, they would be ridiculed. And it's not that they couldn't take the heat (they've taken so much already) but because it would change the way it tastes. And feels. And looks. And if people found out it would make it real. The dark of the night is as thick as her bedspread. It covers things up.

But the thought has crossed her mind, as well as his, that sometime they will need to speak. That one day the sex, the mind blowing sex, won't be enough.

So they kiss one another harder, and have these moments more often.

Anthony DiNozzo and Ziva David try so hard to make it last.