A/N: If you feel a sense of déjà vu, well ... that would be accurate. :) Some of you are aware of why this was up, then down and please know your "Hey, where'd that go?" messages and unfailing support are greatly appreciated. *hug* Let's not discuss that more here or in reviews, but if there's something you'd like to know or say about that, please feel free to PM me. As a reward for giving this another go, you'll be reading chapter 2 tonight barring anything that gets in the way. =D
Now, in honor of the 2013 season finale airing TONIGHT, back to our previously scheduled programming ... Welcome to another of my little sidebar stories that occasionally hijack my muse rather insistently, even when I have other works under way. You can lay the blame for this one completely at the feet of molly2012, whose Zibbs "Genesis" fic totally got me thinking about Mossad Ziva and sent my muse into overdrive. (If you have not read that, do yourself a favor and GO READ IT. Right now. Or, at least after you read this. :D) So, a special dedication to you, my friend. xoxoxo
Please note that neither Kate nor Ari are in this; they simply didn't show up to be written into this fic. The MCRT consists of Gibbs, Tony & McGee; Abby, Ducky & Palmer are along for the ride, as is Malachi Ben-Gidon.
This is fully drafted and, barring any unforeseen additions to the story or overly obsessive editing, it will be posted in five chapters, hopefully in fairly quick succession.
This also comes with a BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY shout to my three favorite Bulls - iyimgrace, gosgirl & Bamacrush (in order of b-day appearance) - as this is my first posting since their days came & went. *mmmmMWAAAAAAH!* Those gals certainly appreciate badass Ziva, and have been known to channel her on occasion. ;D Oh, and here. *hands out cyber drool rags as additional b-day gifts* I put Gibbs in jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt just for you three. ;o)
I've taken Ziva & Gibbs out to play very differently here again, which is always exciting for me. I hope you enjoy it and that you'll let me know if you do. Thanks for reading!
"C'mon, Boss," Tony coaxed, "come out with us. The Israelis are buying."
Gibbs cocked a brow at his senior agent's daring assumption on who was financing this night out he was suggesting, even as Mossad Officer Ziva David did much the same.
And, damn, if that ice queen look from those dark eyes that hinted at a fire underneath that could consume a man didn't turn him on.
'Course, pretty much everything the sexy, dark-haired woman did in that quietly confident, provocative way she had made his dick twitch. She was easily the most exotic woman he'd ever seen up close and personal, even in her preferred uniform of cargo pants, V-neck t-shirt and cropped jacket.
And the way he caught her surreptitiously staring at him when she thought he wasn't looking made him think the attraction that had blindsided him just might be mutual.
Earlier that week, NCIS had been graced with the unexpected presence of Officers David and Malachi Ben-Gidon, whether they wanted them there or not. The Israeli intelligence officers had good intel that two Hamas operatives had stowed away on a Navy ship with the help of at least one sympathizer on board. The ship was due to dock at Bethesda next week.
This particular ship did not have an NCIS agent afloat on board. In order not to alert the stowaways and any who'd provided assistance, Team Gibbs and the Mossad officers had decided not to attempt to intercept the ship before docking, though they did have remote eyes on it 24/7 to make sure no other watercraft approached it on which the terrorists might make an escape.
They'd worked out a plan to meet the ship with enough Naval and Marine support to lock it down tighter than a drum when it docked, while they searched for the stowaways and their protectors. In addition, they'd been checking into the background of every member of the crew and had created a short list of those they would start with on that angle.
But now, it was Friday night and there was little to do until they met again Sunday afternoon with everyone involved to review the plan one last time before the ship docked on Monday.
Hence, Tony's idea that they blow off a little steam at their favorite bar for a while. God knows, they'd been going full tilt for the last week investigating and planning.
While there had been some initial jockeying for position, things had gone about as smoothly as possible. David and Ben-Gidon were clearly partners who knew their stuff, though Ziva seemed to have the upper hand between them when push came to shove.
She'd unassumingly established herself as Gibbs' equal from the get-go, though she ceded to his lead when it was called for. That, in some ways, was a shocker, as most of the others had been prepared for a "who's in charge" pissing match between the two given the leadership vibes that fairly thrummed through them both.
Though that wasn't nearly as shocking to those who knew him as those instances in which Gibbs acquiesced to her lead.
But perhaps the reason for the natural working rhythm they'd fallen into lay somewhere in the sparks of attraction and sexual tension that had been bouncing between them from the moment their eyes met in Director Vance's office when he'd called Gibbs up to inform him that his team had been specifically requested to work on a joint venture with Mossad.
As plans were being made to go out this Friday night, Ziva was casually leaning against the side of Gibbs' desk, arms crossed, one hip practically balanced on the edge of his desk in silent invitation for him to stare at her ass.
She loved catching him eyeing her ass.
And wondered if he'd ever caught her staring at his these past few days.
Gibbs had returned his attention to his computer screen, though he wasn't really seeing anything. All his mind's eye could picture was that incredibly attractive backside parked on his desk.
"Come with us, Gibbs," Abby pleaded. "It'll be fun. Everyone's in so far except you and Ziva."
Ziva straightened and stepped around behind his desk. Placing one hand on the back of his chair and the other on his desk, she leaned close enough for the ends of her ponytail to tickle the back of his neck, ostensibly looking at what he had up on the screen.
"I will if you will," she murmured in the vicinity of his ear.
The flirtation running underneath those smoky words was impossible to miss.
He stilled.
And grabbed for the reins of his libido with both hands.
He turned his head slowly until he could look into her provocatively teasing gaze that dared him to come along. Their faces were close enough that he nearly brushed her lips with his.
Her eyes darkened as they fixed on his mouth. When her tongue came out to wet her bottom lip, he nearly groaned out loud.
"I'm in." The satisfaction that flashed in her beautiful brown eyes at his words went straight to his groin.
"I am, as well," Ziva said out loud, rising from her bent position.
"Yay!" Abby hooted. She hadn't completely decided how she felt about the two Mossad officers – and found Malachi more approachable than Ziva – but they were clearly along for the ride on this case, so she would give them the benefit of the doubt until she had reason to do otherwise.
Besides, she knew Gibbs well enough to see that he had a thing for Officer David and she didn't know a better judge of character than Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
Ziva wanted to stop by the hotel where she and Malachi were staying before going to the bar. She kept her reasons to herself, but this was her first opportunity to be close to the intriguing, sexy team leader in a purely social manner and she intended to make the most of it.
She'd been hot for him for the last five days and had the exciting sense that her interest was returned.
A shower, a change of clothes and some light make-up were definitely in order.
McGee needed to run home and let his dog out, so he offered to pick her up on his way to the bar … before Gibbs could stop his internal debate on the wisdom of offering her a ride himself.
After sending a gently amused, knowing glance Jethro's way, Ziva accepted Tim's offer with a small smile.
She reassured herself that there should be plenty of time this evening to make a move on Gibbs if the opening presented itself. Besides, she liked the quiet computer-savvy agent. He'd been the first to be genuinely welcoming when she and her partner had shown up out of the blue.
Malachi decided to swing by his room first and catch a ride with Tim, as well, while most of the others decided to go straight for drinks. Gibbs just said he'd meet them there.
He went home to shower and change into jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt, though he refused to consider just why he had the urge to do so ... resolutely ignoring it even when he decided to shave, too.
About an hour later, Ziva, Malachi and McGee walked into the crowded bar, searching for the others.
"Timmy! Over here!"
They looked over to see Abby waving madly from the small dance floor. She had managed to get Tony and Palmer out there with her.
Pushing through the crowd of fellow dancers, Abby grabbed hold of McGee's hand and pulled.
"Dance with us, McGee!" Abby sent a friendly smile toward the Israelis by his side. "Hey, guys. The others are over at the bar until a table opens up."
Ziva looked over to find Ducky and Gibbs sitting side by side on stools at the bar. She watched as the bartender set a glass of something in front of Gibbs … and as two attractive women, a blond and a red head, who were sitting a couple of seats down whispered to each other and then tried to catch his attention.
Her eyes narrowed.
Her partner sensed her focus and followed her gaze. What he saw made him hide a smirk.
As the red-haired woman started to make a move to get physically closer to Gibbs, Ziva murmured in Hebrew under her breath.
I do not think so.
She fluidly made her way toward the subject of her attention and Malachi shook his head. He sent a silent suggestion to the silver-haired agent that he kiss the rest of his evening goodbye. Ziva clearly had plans for him and she had a way of getting what she wanted.
He pushed aside a twinge of not-quite-jealousy that was more for form than substance, though he did find it irritating at times that his partner seemed to be more in sync with this outsider than with him this week.
Adroitly, Ziva slipped in sideways between Gibbs and the stranger sitting right next to him, cutting off the red-head just before she reached Jethro's side.
He looked up as he felt her breasts intentionally brush against him on her way to leaning against the bar.
Their eyes met.
Snagged.
Ducky stopped talking as he eventually noticed Jethro's lack of focus. Once he realized where that focus had gone, he grinned inwardly and raised his glass in silent toast to the attraction fairly humming between the couple.
You go, Jethro.
Malachi came up and slid onto the stool on the other side of Ducky and the medical examiner turned to greet him.
"I am here," Ziva reported to Gibbs unnecessarily, in a voice ripe with familiarity and just loud enough to carry as far as the red head who was standing still nearby as though she couldn't believe someone had had the audacity to swoop in on her territory. "Did you miss me?"
The ghost of a smirk tugged at Jethro's lips. He had been acutely aware of her absence, but kept that to himself. What he hadn't missed was the attention of the women down the bar or the possessive stance Ziva assumed as she slid in beside him – between him and those other women.
"Just got here myself," he returned, side-stepping the question.
She gave him a look that said she noticed that he hadn't actually answered her, but would let him off the hook – for now. She then allowed her eyes to roam over him appreciatively.
"Mmmm," she hummed. "I can see that you went home first, as well." She rested her left hand on his forearm left bare by the sleeves he'd shoved up to his elbows, then sent it drifting up over his biceps to his shoulder to cup his neck. "I like this look on you."
She leaned in even closer and barely brushed her nose along the side of his neck.
"And you smell good, too," she breathed softly.
"Could say the same to you," he admitted in a low voice, all but devouring her painted-on jeans, form-fitting top, denim jacket and some kind of lotion that gave his hormones the urge to howl. She'd left her long, dark hair loose about her face, her shoulders. Mostly straightened, it resembled a curtain of silk in which he longed to bury his hands.
"What are you drinking?" she asked, shifting the subject.
Before he could reply, Ziva ran the tip of her finger around the edge of the glass that he still held in one hand, the bottom resting flat against the bar's surface. The manner in which she did it was deliberately enticing and when she dipped her finger daintily into the amber brown liquid before raising that finger to her mouth and sucking lightly, her gaze glued to his …
Well.
He couldn't breathe and his pants got even tighter.
And she knew it.
The minx.
"Mmmm …" she all but purred. "Very good. Do you always drink very smooth bourbon?"
He finally found his voice.
"Every chance I get."
Before this hot little tête-à-tête could continue, Abby's voice could be heard above the din of the crowd.
"Guys! Guys! A table opened up!" She was jumping up and down, her hand in the air, so her friends could see her.
The others started over to join her and her dancing partners as they took a break to sit, eat and just relax. Gibbs looked at Ziva with one eyebrow cocked when she failed to move.
Two could play this game, he decided.
Consigning to hell the thought that maybe this wasn't such a good idea, he stood, edging right into her space until she was eventually forced to take a step back. He smirked roguishly as she swallowed hard and her eyes darkened with desire as he leaned lightly into her.
"Table's ready," he nudged her.
"But I like it right here," she murmured.
He bent and put his lips against the shell of her ear.
"You'll like it even better over there. Trust me."
And she, who rarely trusted easily, admitted to herself that she did.
With a private smile playing about her lips, she gave a single nod and turned toward the others.
Placing a proprietary hand at the small of her back and enjoying the way she pressed into his touch, he guided her over to the table where the others had gathered, carrying his drink in the other hand. The others had started sitting down. Gibbs stared at DiNozzo until he shifted chairs so that there were two right next to each other with the backs against the wall and a view of the door.
Ziva tossed a smirk of approval over her shoulder at him. Exactly the seats she would have chosen, too.
And, to her surprise, she found a small piece of her heart warmed when he took the seat closer to the door, unconsciously putting himself between her and any unexpected threat that might come from that direction. Typically, such behavior from a man put her back up as though the action suggested she couldn't take care of herself if something did happen.
But it felt different with Gibbs …
A lot of things did.
She sat in thought over that for a moment, not entirely comfortable with what that might mean.
But not entirely uncomfortable either.
A sexy voice rumbled in her ear, breaking into her thoughts.
"You okay?"
A slight shiver went through her in response and Gibbs' characteristic smile tugged at one side of his mouth as he relished her reaction to his quiet question.
Ziva grabbed for some self control and nodded.
"Waitress is taking orders," he pointed out. "What do you want?"
She closed her eyes against the pictures that flooded her mind at those words, while moist heat pooled in her panties.
Then she looked at him, brown eyes nearly burning into blue.
You.
His own eyes darkened and his eyes focused on her very kissable lips for a moment.
"That's mutual," he murmured in a voice for her ears only, "but better start with something on the menu."
The sexy humor that twinkled in his captivating eyes sparked her own and she snapped out of her thoughts.
She released a sigh of not-quite-mock regret.
"If we must."
He grinned and rested his arm along the back of her chair as she ordered a bourbon and the "World Famous Cheeseburger" from the menu, after confirming with some of the others that they were indeed "to die for."
Malachi grinned as the waitress walked away. "A cheeseburger again, Ziva? You are going to turn into one."
She made a face at him that had the others chuckling.
"I cannot help it," she shrugged. "I have a weakness for your American cheeseburgers, the good ones, anyway."
"What other weaknesses do you have, Officer David?" Tony wheedled. "Do tell."
Apparently strong, self-assured, incredibly attractive, silver-haired Marines.
Fortunately, she managed to keep that thought in her head by taking a sip of her drink that had just arrived. Her body language didn't lie, though, as she unconsciously drifted closer toward Gibbs' body heat, though the movement was so slight he was the only other one who noticed.
"Do I seem like a woman who would easily spill her weaknesses so they could be used against her, Agent DiNozzo?" she asked with just enough good humor mixed in with the arrogance in the slight lift of her brow to make the others grin.
She was acutely aware of Jethro's arm shifting casually and when his hand came to rest on her thigh, she barely held in her gasp. After a moment, his hand slowly smoothed … roamed … circled … squeezed.
Clearly he'd picked up on her weakness for him.
And this is what he must have meant by enjoying sitting here even more. Oh, the things one could do with a hand when the table blocked the others' view.
Or a foot she considered, slipping one foot out of her flat shoe and wrapping her lower leg around his, using her toes to search for skin under his pant leg.
Now who had to shake off a shudder?
The conversation shifted and everyone's food arrived. Ziva let go a low moan of gratification with the first bite of her burger that had Gibbs shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Ziva glanced up at him as she swallowed. "I can see why these are 'world famous.' Can we come back here?"
He smiled, charmed by her simple pleasure in the meal and nodded in that way he had.
Her happy sound as she dove back into eating her cheeseburger kept his smile on his face far longer than it should have, even as her enthusiasm made him wonder about her other appetites.
She was such a contradiction, Officer Ziva David.
Strong. Competent. Smart. Completely badass.
Amused – and amusing. Discriminately friendly.
Sensual, in every sense of the word.
Confident. Cheeky. Well-defended.
Suddenly, briefly, surprisingly unguarded.
Protected.
Protective.
Eyes that spoke of a soul that had seen too much … and yet retained a zest for living life in the moment.
And he found himself wanting to explore layer after layer.
After everyone had finished eating, Abby got all of the others back on the dance floor … except Ziva and Gibbs. He had no desire to dance to what was playing right now and she had no intention of giving up a moment of alone time with Gibbs.
Once everyone else had vacated the table, Ziva finished off the last of her bourbon and nonchalantly laid her left hand on Jethro's right thigh. After indulging herself in smoothing her hand over the length of his upper leg, she squeezed his muscle, pleased with what she found under her fingers.
She angled her gaze so she could see her hand in contrast to his leg and couldn't help her Mmmm of pleasure.
He'd been resting his arm over the back of her chair again, and now he allowed his hand to come up and play in her hair, let his fingers brush against the soft skin of her neck. She looked up at him with an intimate smile that went straight to his groin.
"Alone at last," she murmured in a sultry voice that further inflamed his senses.
"You call this alone?" he asked with a snort, eyeballing the crowded room.
Pressing against his side, she nuzzled her face near his neck and breathed deeply.
God, she wanted him.
Had from the moment she'd laid eyes on his picture as she'd studied deep background she'd put together herself on him and his team en route to D.C.
"We are more alone that we have been all week," she pointed out softly. She tilted her head to look up at him. "And all I see right now is you."
His eyes darkened with emotion and his hand came up to tuck one side of her long brown hair behind her ear. She leaned into his touch with another one of those smiles that he was already addicted to.
The music changed to something slow.
Ziva leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "Dance with me."
He swallowed. Hard.
"Don't dance much," he managed, risking a sip of his drink, hoping he could get it past the lump in his throat.
"I cannot help but notice that is not a 'no,'" Ziva observed in a throaty murmur.
He snorted.
"Your feet may end up wishing it was," he returned, unable to stop himself from leaning into her.
She rubbed her foot up and down his leg again.
"I believe we have already established that my feet like you," she flirted. Something deeper flashed in her eyes, then was gone as quickly as it had come. Her voice dropped a little lower. "Actually, all of me likes you."
"Yeah?"
She nodded, then she smiled again.
"That is why I want to dance with you," she explained in a throaty murmur. "I would have a perfectly legitimate excuse to put my hands on you …" She squeezed his thigh again. "… and have your hands on me."
She leaned up and put her lips to his ear.
"Do you want your hands on me, Jethro?"
The combination of that sultry voice and his name nearly had him coming in his jeans.
He nodded, before he found his voice.
"Want more than that," he admitted.
A pleased, happy spark glittered in her eyes.
"So do I," she shared. "But this will be a very nice start."
"Maybe after I finish my drink," he stalled, making a last ditch effort to fight the strength of the pull he felt toward her.
She audaciously picked up his glass and downed the remaining contents in one swallow without batting an eye.
A strong, smart, sexy, confident woman who could teach even him a thing or two about handling weapons and could also knock back a shot of bourbon like it was water.
He was a goner.
She stood and held her hand out to him. He placed his hand in hers and allowed her to lead him to a section of the dance floor that was not completely packed with people.
He could feel the eyes of his team and her partner following them, but he paid little attention. He was – wanted to be – completely wrapped up in this woman that intrigued him on so many levels.
He wanted her like he hadn't wanted anyone in what felt like forever.
And, miracle of miracles, she wanted him back.
She turned into him with that intimate smile that he'd only seen directed toward him. Not even pretending that she wanted anything less than dancing close, she slid her hands appreciatively up his chest and clasped them at the back of his neck, resting her body against his.
He put his hands on her hips, squeezing gently just for the pure pleasure of it, as he looked down at her. There was something about her that always seemed larger than life at NCIS, but standing like this, she seemed so much smaller than he was … delicate even.
He snorted internally. She'd probably punch him for even thinking that.
They didn't speak, simply moved together in a natural rhythm as old as time, yet new to both of them. Slowly, she melted against him until not even a whisper could have passed between them. His hands inched their way around to rest against the small of her back. By the end of the song, her head was against his shoulder, her nose close enough to his throat to surround herself with his scent, while the side of his head rested against hers.
One song blended into another. This one had a little more of a driving, sultry beat running beneath it that picked the pace up slightly, but they didn't miss a step … just kept moving together like they'd been dancing partners for years instead of a handful of moments. Every so often, one or the other would move a hand, a finger, a thumb, stroking skin, smoothing over clothes, searching for what pleased them both.
As words of wanting, of longing thickened the air around them, they were drawn to look at each other. Slowly, Ziva tilted her head back as he did the same. Their eyes met … couldn't look away as the song, the dance wrapped them in a cocoon that insulated them from all the others in the room.
As the last word was still fading, Ziva stretched up on tiptoe to breathe into his ear.
"If you do not find us some privacy in the next thirty seconds, I am going to kiss you right on this dance floor."
A/N #2: The song I hear in my head during their second dance is "Wanted" by Hunter Hayes. The title of this fic was decided and most of this chapter was written before that came to me, so it is not integral to the chapter. If music has meaning for you, feel to have them dance to whatever song(s) you'd like. :)