Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed 'Homeland' - and wanted more! Instead of heading straight into a sequel, here are the two 'missing scenes' that a lot of you asked about. The first chapter here relates to chapter 6 of Homeland - 'Catharsis' - Gibbs and Ziva in the hotel room (basically their night together that I chickened out of writing before). The second chapter is 'the' conversation about what happened between them, which takes place on the plane back to DC.

If you haven't read Homeland, I really recommend you do otherwise this will make no sense at all! Please be aware of the different ratings though. This is M for a reason!

Enjoy!

I do not own NCIS or any of the characters. Wish I did.

Never hide in the dark, Ziva.

Her tears were soaking his shirt as he held her close, stroking her hair and her scarred back. She heard him murmuring something in her ear, something soothing, but she couldn't make out what it was. She did not care. The only other person, apart from the doctors, that had seen her scars was the man who made them. Every time he had looked at her, she had seen the disgust and hatred in his eyes. And on some deep level, she realized, she had been terrified that Gibbs' reaction would be the same.

As her tears slowed, he pulled away slightly to look down at her. His finger stroked her cheek; his skin was rough, but his touch so gentle it almost made her cry again. Saleem did this. His finger had stroked her cheek too, before his hand had drawn back to slap her with such ferocity it took her breath away. How could I have thought they would be similar?

Something in her thoughts must have shown in her eyes, as Gibbs cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look up at him. Her heart beat a little faster, and her breath caught in her throat. Please do not let it be pity.

'Ziva?'

She finally turned her brown eyes to his blue ones. Compassion. Concern. Not pity. Not hatred, or disgust, or revulsion.

Love?

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. He pulled her close again, whispering in her ear.

'Don't have to do anything you don't want, Ziva'.

She shook her head again, pulling away to try and explain to him that she did want this, she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone, but that right now she did not know what to do. She had always taken the lead before in sex, and liked it that way, but…..this is not just sex. Suddenly she did not want to be in control. She wanted to let go, to let him take over and make love to her any way he wanted, but she did not know how.

'I do not know how to do this, Jethro'. Her voice was a whisper. 'I want this. I want you. But I need you to show me what to do'.

He reached out a hand to take hers, and tilted her chin up with his other hand. He knew how much it cost her to utter those words. She's scared. Of being out of control, of letting go. Of being hurt. Showing him her scars had taken so much courage, and somewhere in her eyes he had seen her fear of his reaction. He had touched his lips to the marks, one after the other, as if by kissing them he could take the pain away, show her that he still wanted her and still loved her, as a friend and as a woman. That he would never hurt her. That he was nothing like Saleem. And God, he still wanted her. When her eyes met his, he saw desire that he knew was mirrored in his own. But I need you to show me.

'You trust me, Ziva?'

Almost imperceptibly, she nodded.

He lowered his head and kissed her, slowly, gently at first, letting himself enjoy the feeling of her responding, before pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. As her tongue flitted around his lips, he slipped his hands around her back and unhooked her bra, sliding the straps from her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs stroking her nipples that were already hard under his touch, and he bent down to take one in his mouth. She moaned as his tongue gently flicked where his thumb had been, and the sound made him giddy with desire. She wants you.

Ziva moaned again as his tongue gently caressed her nipple and she felt herself getting wet. She knew he could feel it through her thin lace panties, but he still took his time, licking, gently sucking, his hands resting on the curve of her hips. He slowly moved upwards, tracing a line with his lips from her breast up to her collarbone and her neck, pulling her hips close to his, letting her feel how much he wanted her.

'Do I need to get anything?'

He murmured the question in her ear, stroking her hips and moving gently against her. Her mind was fuzzy. All she could think of was how much she wanted him, but somewhere in her consciousness she realized what he was talking about, and shook her head. Before he could question her further, she reached up and placed a finger over his lips before deftly unbuttoning his shirt.

'Nice', she murmured appreciatively. His mouth twitched into a smile.

'For my age?"

'Umm-hmm'. She ran her hands over his firm, muscular chest.

'Cheeky, David'. He slipped his hands under the elastic of her panties, smiling when her breath caught in her throat. He bent his head to kiss her neck again. 'You wanted me in charge, remember?'

'It is a woman's prerogative to change her mind…'

'Umm-hmm. Want to?' His hand moved further down and between her legs, brushing her ever so lightly. She gasped, and he smiled again as she shook her head. He drew back his hand, and she moaned and pressed against him before reaching down to undo his jeans. He drew a sharp breath as her fingers trailed up his length, then grasped her hand.

'Won't last if you do that'.

He kept hold of her hand, guiding it inside her panties and down between her legs, his fingers entwined with hers. She was soaking wet. He watched her eyes darken and knew his were doing the same. He slowly drew their hands back, and guided her finger to her mouth, letting her taste herself before gently pushing her down on the bed and pulling her panties down over her hips. God, she's beautiful. He bent his head to kiss first one hip, then the other, then down the inside of her thigh before finally his tongue found that hot, sweet, wet spot between her legs. She gasped, and arched against him, wanting more but again, he took his time, licking and kissing and ever so slowly sliding a finger inside her.

'Please….please, Jethro'.

Her voice was hoarse, her breath ragged. She had sworn she would never beg again, but…..this is so different, this is driving me crazy. She felt his smile as he continued his slow, relentless assault and she let out a low moan, moving against his mouth as the intense sensations swept through her. He felt her begin to tighten and slipped another finger inside her, moving deeper and harder as his tongue lightly licked and nipped her center.

'Let it go, Ziva', he whispered, sensing she was trying to hold back, to wait for him. She cried out as his words finally tipped her over the edge, waves of ecstasy flooding through her in a throbbing, wrenching release that left her gasping for breath. He slowly moved up on top of her to cover her mouth in a deep kiss, and she tasted the warm, sweet result of her own desire before he pulled back, silently asking her permission. She answered by grasping his hips, pulling him down and towards her, catching her breath as he slid inside her. He stopped, letting her adjust to the feel of him, before slowly beginning to move, her hips moving with his as once again her body responded to his touch. The feel of her warm wetness right next to him with nothing in between them was almost too much, and he started to slow down, to force himself to hold on, but this time it was Ziva whispering to him, I want you to come inside me, that sent him crashing into his own shuddering climax.

They lay wrapped in each other's arms for a long time, Ziva savouring the warmth and comfort of his body next to hers. She had never felt so relaxed and comfortable, and found herself drifting into a sweet state of half-sleep, his fingers slowly stroking her hair and his breath warm on her cheek. When he finally spoke softly, it took her a minute to register what he was saying.

'You stopped me before'.

She nuzzled against him, her eyes still closed.

'Hmmm?'

He shifted so that he was propped on one elbow, looking down at her.

'You stopped me asking about taking precautions'.

She sighed inwardly and opened her eyes to look up at him. His eyes were questioning and concerned, but not angry. She did not have the energy to lie any more. And, if she was honest, she did not want to. Not to him.

'Because there was no need for precautions, Jethro.' She looked down at the pillow. She did not want to lie, but she could not cope with seeing his face, either. She took a deep breath.

'I cannot get pregnant. Something Saleem did, one of the drugs he gave me to try and make me talk. The doctor did explain it, but I could not take it in at the time, and then I did not want to know. It was some time after I returned, so it was never put in any of the medical reports you saw.'

There was silence. Still she could not bring herself to look at him.

'Why didn't you say?' His voice was a whisper.

She swallowed. I have come this far.

'Because I did not want you to think of me as …less of a woman…..because of it'.

He said nothing, but lifted her up off the pillow and wrapped her tight in his arms again, holding her close as if he never wanted to let her go. There were no more tears, she did not think she had any left, but his embrace was enough.

Later, when she was falling asleep still in his arms, he whispered in her ear, asking if she was ok. Sleepily, she looked up at him.

'I will be ok, Jethro. I will be fine'.