A/N: So I'm kinda sitting in an 'abandoned' hallway in my university right now abandoned because most people have lectures right now and I'm sitting somewhere on the third floor, while most other students who have free time seem to be concentrating on the first two floors.

Anyway... since I have some time (4 damn hours) I thought I'd write some Zibbs :D which is always a good plan.

Years ago, Ziva David had learned how important it was to have a place to relax, no matter what country she was in, who she was working for. Her father had always had his office which seemed to be the one place even his family wasn't really welcome in Ari had always preferred parks and Ziva herself had always been most comfortable in her own room, at home, with Tali next door and her mother somewhere in the house.

Growing up she had never really felt that comfortable again and, even though it didn't seem to affect her instantly, she felt the effects after living like that for a while. Her own home didn't feel comfortable anymore. Her parents' house was empty now, her father working too much to ever really spend time at home. Her own apartment was horribly quiet and she was trained to always be alert, never trust anyone, therefor she didn't really sleep well either.

Moving to America not been a big change in that area. Her new apartment was just as quiet as the one in Israel and the people around her didn't seem any more trustworthy than others. The only place that made her feel safe was strangely enough the place where her brother had died, Gibbs' basement. This feeling of safety extended through the whole house and even onto his driveway.

That's where she found herself from time to time. On nights when the nightmares were worse than usual. She would just drive around for hours, trying to clear her head, reminding herself that this city was supposed to be safer than any other place she had ever lived in, ending up parked in front of his house. When she didn't choose driving, she went for a run and even though there was a large distance between her place and his she would always end up on his front porch. She never went in, though she was sure he knew about all of it, thinking he might actually want to talk it over with her, find a solution.
She didn't need to talk it over. Those nights used to happen more frequently when she had just started at NCIS and now, after almost seven years, she only ended up there about once a month, sometimes less. To her, it wasn't worth mentioning.

ZibbsZibbsZibbsZibbs

He had seen her walk up to his porch again, for the second time this week, thinking about how it had become less in the last few years and how this seemed to be getting out of hand. If she came to his place again, he would have to talk to her about it, or maybe just keep her company, try to make her feel better. Do or do not, there is no try. The little Dinozzo in his head had obviously seen Star Wars too often.

Jethro knew that Ziva trusted him more than most others and she had made it clear that she felt safe in his house, in his company. Instinctively, he thought that he might be the only person who could really help her with this problem, whatever it was.

Standing in his living room, lights out, looking out of the window and watching his young israeli agent sitting on his porch, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he just went out there now and sat beside her. Of course she would be surprised and maybe not even happy, but he was sure somehow he would be able to help her.

A moment later, his front door opened and revealed a casually dressed Leroy Jethro Gibbs, walking towards his beautiful agent and sitting down next to her on the steps. Neither of them said a word and sat in silence for a while, thinking about what to say and who should start.

Without him noticing, she repeatedly looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. He was wearing a pair of old jeans, that she had seen on him before. His backside looks really good in those, she remembered smiling ever so slightly. His shirt was one of those gray NIS shirts he held onto, even though he must have some more recent NCIS shirts lying around. She remembered those, too, all of them. Every single shirt she had ever seen him wear in his basement. They all made him look even more handsome than any of his work clothes.

Smiling again, she took in his scent wood, sweat, coffee his basement always smelled like that, too. She took a deep breath, mostly to take in more of that sexy scent of his, but also because she felt ready to talk now. It was more of a cue for him to start, to ask something, and not a preparation to actually start this conversation herself.

Knowing what she wanted, needed, seemed to be his sixth sense.

"Couldn't sleep?"

It didn't really seem like a question to her, more of a conversation starter.

"No, I... I had a nightmare and when I woke up I could not stop thinking about it, so I could not go back to sleep. Thought I would go for a run."

"Don't see you running."

That made her smile. Stating the obvious there, aren't we?

"Ran here. Thought I'd take a break."

"Long break. Saw you sitting down.", a quick glance at his watch, "94 minutes ago."

"Maybe your porch is comfortable.

She was too tired to keep up the wall she had been building since she met him. It was designed to stop her from flirting with him, showing him the effect he had on her.

He just hoped that this flirting might be what she needed and went along with it, though he had to admit that he liked it.

"There are more comfortable places, more relaxing activities than sitting around."

"Like sanding a boat?" He couldn't possibly mean that.

"Yeah, sure, why not. Though that's probably not the most relaxing thing in the world. Still leaves a lot of room to think."

"You could show me anyway."

And just like that he got up from the steps and held out a hand to help her up. They went inside, of course just to work on the boat, though they both had a feeling it would not end there.

ZibbsZibbsZibbsZibbs

Half an hour later, down in his basement, Ziva was pressed between Jethro and his boat.
They were sanding of course, what else but somehow she had a feeling that teaching someone how to sand a boat usually didn't involve being so close to them, covering their hands with your own, breathing on their neck and giving them goose bumps through that. But there he was, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, his upper body almost touching her back almost , his hands on hers, his breath on her neck. She felt the need to lean back against him and try to cuddle a little, but she didn't. Her head was still clear enough to make that rational decision. The flirting hadn't reached that level yet and she wasn't going to let it.

Jethro on the other hand had just started enjoying himself a little too much. The beautiful Israeli between him and his boat smelled like mango or something, sweet and exotic. Her hands were almost tiny in comparison to his and her neck just begged him to kiss it. Half a step closer and she would literally be pressed between him and his boat. But he, too, knew that he shouldn't take that step. She was his colleague, his friend, and so much younger than him. Besides, he couldn't imagine a scenario that would make her want him half as much as he wanted her. A woman like her could have any man she wanted, in what universe did HE have a chance? Sure she had flirted with him, out there on his porch, but she had heard her flirt with Tony on extremely more dangerous levels. She surely didn't consider this serious flirting, right?

With her voice a little lower than usually and a little out of breath, she said"This is pretty relaxing. What would have been the other thing? The more relaxing thing?"

His scent had obviously intoxicated her enough to make her bolder, so her body had just realized to not only go a level higher with the flirting, but also lean back against him a few inches more.

He was surprised by her sudden closeness and, even though there were still one or two inches between them, he could feel the heat radiating from her body.

Part of him wanted to take a step back and hide his soon to be obvious reaction, while another part of him wanted to close the remaining distance and make her feel just how big that reaction was.

"Well, the other thing..." She had now leaned back enough that her back actually touched his upper body and, in anticipation of their lower bodies to collide, he had gasped a little, making her smile brightly.

"The other thing is sex isn't it?" She said, still smiling, pressing herself against him completely.

He was completely unable to answer that, trying to concentrate on his breathing. Part of him still wanted to step away from her, send her home, but that part seemed to get weaker by the minute. She obviously knew what she was doing. Or maybe she was just as helpless as he was. A slave to their need, their attraction to one another.

It was obvious now, that they both wanted this equally much and, throwing all her doubts out the window, he turned her in his arms, pressed her against his boat and kissed her as if it was the last thing he would ever do.

TBC?

A/N: So apparently I have a much dirtier mind when I'm in university... is that a good thing? Abandoned hallways, sexy Scottish professors (well, one... and he isn't even old enough to be my father... which is kinda new for me... I usually feel attracted to men and women my parents' age... don't judge me... it might be Mark Harmon's fault... who is old enough to be my grandfather... )

Anyway... Hope you liked it!

Please review!