She begins to wake up. Not ready to be awake she keeps her eyes closed tightly. She feels her surroundings, instead. The side of her face is pressed up against warm cotton. For a moment she assumes that it is her pillow case, but when it rises, and falls she realizes it is not. She listens to the noises in the room. She hears breathing, other than her own. Her ear is pressed up against someone's chest. She listens as his heart beats steadily. Her arm is draped limply across his torso. She lies diagonally in her bed, or what she assumes to be her bed.

How did he get here? Who was she? Did she dare open her eyes and look. She utilizes her other senses. Smell, he smells of body wash. She places her other hand on his chest. She comes to the conclusion that he is wearing a v-neck t-shirt. In the space between the v-neck of the shirt she feels hair. Suddenly an overwhelming thought pops into her head. Hairy-butt. She cannot push the thought out of her mind.

How had he ended up in bed with her? Had something happened between them? She realizes that she is fully clothed. T-shirt, underwear, flannel pajama bottoms, and one sock. She feels heavy covers covering the lower half of her body. She listens to him breathe. The back of her head is pointed towards her face. Maybe if she opened her eyes it wouldn't be as bad of a scenario, as the one she had created in her mind. Maybe she was mistaken, in assuming whose chest she was laying on.

Why couldn't she remember anything? She ignores the thought, and opens her eyes. Her eyes scan the room, without her moving her head in the slightest. The scenario before her, it was worse than she had imagined. This was not her bed. This was not her room. This was someone else's apartment, someone else's room, someone else's bed. This was not good. The fact that she had no recollection of how she got there, that was worse. The last thing she remembered was crawling into bed, her bed. At 2202 she had crawled into her bed, alone.

Now it was morning, the sun was not up yet, but she knew that it soon would be. She discerns this from the amount of light coming in from the window. How had she gotten here? Whose bed was she in? If her gut was right, this was a very bad situation. She swallows hard, wondering if she can leave, without him noticing. She wonders if she can slip out unnoticed? Maybe he didn't even know that she was there. Maybe it wasn't who she thought it was. Maybe it was a random stranger. That would not be much better, but at least it would be less awkward.

"I see that you're awake," his familiar voice startles her.

She uses her palms, and pushes herself off his chest. She rolls onto her back. Her head lands on a pillow. She stares at him in embarrassment, and confusion.

"Do you want to tell me what you're doing here?"

"I thought that you might be able to fill in the blanks," she admits.

"You don't know why you're here?"

"No," she shakes her head shamefully.

"That makes two of us."

"Did we..."

"No."

"How did I get here?"

"I would prefer not to think about it."

"Why?"

"You showed up here just after eleven. I think that you were sleep walking."

"You think? How did I get in here? Did you let me in?"

"I did not let you in. How you got in remains a mystery."

"I just walked right in?"

"I don't know. You could have crawled in. I didn't know that you were even here, until you were standing in the doorway."

"Of the bedroom?"

"Yes. I had just gotten in bed, and I heard footsteps. I rolled over and saw you."

"What did I say?"

"You didn't say anything. I asked you what you were doing here, and you just climbed into bed with me."

"Did I..."

"You didn't try anything. You just cuddled up with me."

"I am so sorry. I cannot believe this happened. It is unprofessional. I crossed the line."

"But why?"

"Why did I cross the line?"

"Why did you come here?"

"I do not know."

"Why were you sleep walking?"

"I have been having trouble sleeping lately. Last night I was exhausted, so I took a sleeping pill."

"Why?"

"I just told you."

"No, why haven't you been sleeping?"

"I have a hard time falling asleep, because I know that if I fall asleep I will start to dream, and I cannot control my dreams."

"Dreams or nightmares?"

"It is kind of like the same film, being played, over, and over again, in my head, except it isn't fiction."

He slides out of bed, and moves towards the window. She sits up in his bed, leaning against the headboard, crossing her legs in front of her.

"You drove here," he reveals.

"How do you know?"

"You are parked in front of the building. I can see your car from here. You are a scary enough driver as it is, I hate to think about you driving in your sleep."

"Why didn't you try waking me up?"

"You crawled in bed, and within a minute you were sound asleep. You were snoring, and drooling, all over me."

"I do not snore."

"And pigs don't oink," he retorts.

"I definitely do not drool."

He turns around. He points to his shirt. She inspects the spot.

"Ok, maybe I drool," she concedes.

"You should probably head home, so you can get dressed, if you want to make it to work on time."

"Yeah, I should get going," she agrees.

"Ziva," he calls to her as she gets out of his bed.

She looks at him as he stares out the window.

"Yeah?"

"You talk in your sleep, too," he tells her.

She bites her bottom lip. "What did I say?"

"Does it matter? It can stay between us. All of this can stay between us."

"I am completely mortified. I do not know what would possess me to break in to your apartment, and crawl in to bed with you, in my sleep."

"I do."

"You do?"

He turns around, and looks at her. He smiles, "Yeah, but I am not going to tell you, because you'll punch me, hard."

"Fine," she turns to leave.

"Ziva?"

"Yes Tony?"

"You slept like a baby last night."

"What is your point?" she asks from the doorway.

"You didn't bring your gun with you, so you must have felt safe."

"I always feel safe with you," she admits.

"If you need to sleep with me, to get a good night's rest, I can take one for the team. I prefer a well rested Ziva, to a sleep deprived one."

"And why is that?"

"Your fuse is much shorter when you are tired."

"This is not ok," she tells him.

"Neither is what you told me in your sleep."

"What did I tell you?"

"I won't repeat it."

"A clue?"

He smiles, "You never lie, in your sleep."

With that she leaves. On her way down the stairs she realizes that she has no idea where her car keys are, or why she is wearing only one sock, and no shoes. She steps onto the sidewalk, the cold sends shivers up her spine. She jaunts to the car. She pulls the driver's side door open, thankful that is unlocked. She slides into her seat, and closes the door. She looks around for the keys. She finds them under the mat.