She is having the weirdest dream; it has Tony DiNozzo in it, he's trying to kiss her and for some reason she's letting him. It feels oddly pleasant and much better than she expected it to be. His lips are soft and tender, the kiss is so slow that it seems he's waiting for her to get used to it and draw back if she's not ready. But she is; she is actually waiting for this kiss from the moment they first met. That's why she opens her lips and teasingly…

What's that noise?

Like the frames changing one into another, the dream changes into reality. She is in her bed, alone, there is no Tony (of course, why would he be?!) and her phone is ringing.

"David," she yawns, still sleepy.

"Rise and shine, Zee-vah!"

"Tony?" she rockets in her bed, wide awake. She feels the irrational fear that he somehow found out about her dream.

"Get your stuff and make sure there are dresses in it. I will pick you up in 20, we got a job to do."

She is processing his words slowly and cautiously, trying to discover a possible prank at early stages.

"Dresses? What are you talking about?"

"I will tell you when I get there. Seriously, do you have something that will make you look like a French wife?"

She's going riled up – she hates being left in the dark.

"You will tell me right now what it is all about or I will hurt you badly," she promises firmly and hears the sigh on the other side.

"We're going undercover, Ziva. Two French assassins, husband and wife, are lying down in autopsy, so we're taking their places to find out who they're working for. Is that good enough for you? Gibbs called me an hour ago, so I'm already en route to your place."

She swallows the chuckle. Tony's wife? That's going to be interesting!

"Okay, wait in the car, I'll be ready in 15."

He chuckles.

"Don't forget the dresses!"

She makes a note to punch him when she sees him and gets out of the bed.

"I'm still waiting on the details," she says instead of a greeting while getting into his car. "What?"

He looks a bit amazed scrutinizing her.

"You're wearing a dress!" it sounds like he doesn't believe his own words.

She gives him a confused look.

"You did say to wear a dress, did you not?"

He's still as close to speechless as he can get at all.

"Yes, I did, but I wasn't expecting you to actually do it."

There's still some astonishment in his eyes, but now he's just ogling her. She scringes under his gaze.

"Maybe you can stop staring at me and actually tell me what our mission is?" she is trying to keep her voice as nonchalant as possible.

He focuses on the matter and now looks all business as usual.

"These French guys came to US yesterday and were killed during the encounter with local LEOs. Director Shepard thinks the word is not out yet, so we may get a chance to have a look into their career from the inside; they're on the job here, so we're checking in their hotel room and wait for the guy who called them here to contact us."

"Are we assuming he or she doesn't know how they look like?"

"Well, yeah. And we're assuming we'll be under surveillance, too," he drops the business expression and grins. "You'll have to be my wife, do you understand that?"

His grin is starting to exasperate her.

"Tony, I can assure you, it will not be the first time when I am undercover or under surveillance."

"You've never been undercover with me," he says like there's a hidden meaning to it. The spark in his eye takes her back to her dream and she fails not to look at his lips.

"I do not think there is something entirely different about you or working with you," she retorts in the annoyed manner.

"Oh, everything is different about me!" he's driving away from her home, so he's not looking at her anymore and she can observe him.

"Like what?"

"Like… everything. Did you understand what I said, Ziva? We're going to be a married couple. And we're going to share a bed. And…"

"Not going to happen," she cuts him off with a fake chuckle. She can barely mask her breath catching when she imagined the picture. Just like in her dream.

He looks confused.

"What to do you mean? You're not taking the job or what?"

"I am not sleeping with you."

"But you are," now he sounds genuinely puzzled. "That's why it's called 'undercover', we have to become them in order to succeed!"

"Not all the couples are very intimate, some are just business partners. Maybe they were like that," she can't help grasping at straws because she is suddenly terrified of being alone with him at all, not to mention sleeping with him.

"They weren't; Ducky found the evidence of the intercourse they had shortly before their death. So… wait," it's the red light and he looks like he has just had the revelation. "You are afraid to sleep with me!"

She sees how his smile becomes annoyingly arrogant like it's his achievement or something. His eyes are glaring as he weighs the possibility of her being afraid to be in bed with him.

"You wish! I have had intercourse with my partners many times before; it is just a part of the job. So if there is such a need, I am okay with it… what?" she notices how he's staring at her. "What did I say?"

"We're not actually having the intercourse, Ziva," he says cautiously. "I wouldn't mind, of course, but Gibbs and McGee and who knows who else will listen the whole time. Relax. We're staging it. I like that you're ready to agree to the actual thing, though," he chuckles in the end, but changes his expression to serious when he notices her glaring at him.

"I was not agreeing to anything, I was just saying I did it before; if it was up to me I would never even kiss you, let along sleep with you!" she chuckles.

"Ouch," he chuckles back, "that hurt!"

It's another red light and she feels his gaze upon her.

"What? You deserved it…"

She turns her head to laugh at him just to find his face an inch from hers. His lips are pressed to hers before she knows it; it's not like in her dream, he is more persistent in making her kiss him back. She feels her lips opening up and his warm breath entering her mouth. It's actually better than in a dream. His hand is holding her head tight giving him control over the situation while she has none. But she doesn't mind as long as his lips are on hers.

That's why it's so unexpected when he flinches and draws back.

"It wasn't so bad, was it?" he whispers hoarsely.

She is trying to catch her breath while inventing an answer.

"Be grateful that it is green light and you are driving," she is quietly praying for her voice not to fail her. Everything inside her is shaking; she can still feel his taste in her mouth. "What the hell was that, Tony?"

"A rehearsal?" he sounds surprisingly uncertain of his own answer. She can feel his keen gaze on her while she's looking out of the window.

"Do that again and there will not be an undercover mission because you will be dead," she says nonchalantly while fighting the urge to keep rehearsing.

"Okay," his eyes are back on the road. "Oh, our hotel is just a block away, my dear wife!"

She breathes out slowly; maybe it won't be as interesting as it will be dangerous for her sanity.

"You did kiss me back, though," he says suddenly.

"I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"I did not! At least, not intentionally. It is just a reflex."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, wife," he says teasingly, pulling over. "Smile!"

She waits for him to open the door and gets out of the car with a loving smile that has somehow become too easy to execute.