DISCLAIMER; I do not own NCIS or any of the actors, actresses, scripts, or anything else associated with the actual show. This is just a fan-fiction.

Elevator Ride

Tony had just about had it. Today had not been his day to begin with, and Ziva's last few jibes about his sexuality and competence on the job had not settled well with him. Oh, he knew she was just joking around; trying to fit in with the rest of the team, but today he just wasn't in the mood.

It had begun that day with Gibbs' rant over Tony's not having a report ready first thing that morning. Ziva had looked mockingly over her computer monitor at Tony, and made some sort of comment about how if he had another brain, it would be lonely. This had bothered him, but Tony had let it slide. Then there was the jibe at his love of movies, with Ziva musing that it was a pity he would never shoot as straight as John Wayne. Only she'd flubbed and called The Duke "The Duck." Tony had snickered over that one, but the implication that he was not good with a weapon had bothered him as well. It didn't help any that he'd qualified for weapons' re-certification by the skin of his teeth, and was still a bit touchy over the whole thing.

Now, as he rode the elevator to the parking level, he tried to forget about all of it. He planned on going home and relaxing in front of a good movie with a cold beer and a sack of Doritos. He could almost smell the cheesy chips when the elevator stopped on the second floor of the building. Tony frowned, and then realized that Ducky was probably headed home too. Tony raised his hand to wave at the good doctor, but froze when Ziva, a small smile on her face, stepped in.

"Hello, Tony," she said, her voice soft and slightly breathless.

Tony grimaced, and stepped sideways, creating more space between them.

"Ziva," he said coldly, and looked straight ahead at the now-closed elevator doors.

"What's the matter Tony," Ziva asked, a small pout on her face, "are you feeling sorry for yourself again?"

Tony shook his head, trying not to cut his eyes her direction; trying not to study her pretty face for the hundredth time today. Ziva leaned forward, trying to look him in the eye.

Tony turned his head stubbornly and looked at the control panel on the wall. He knew he was being childish, but at the moment, he just didn't give a damn.

"Oh Tony," Ziva said, a teasing note in her voice, "Did you forget your pacifier?"

She was unprepared when Tony spun around to face her, stepping toward her so fast that she was forced to back up against the smooth steel wall of the elevator. She was even more surprised when he stepped closer, until the tip of his nose was nearly touching her forehead. Ziva's hands instinctively went up in a defensive gesture, and her palms contacted with the rough denim jacket he was wearing. Before she could push him back, Tony grabbed her by the wrists, pinning her firmly against the wall with his hands. Ziva lifted a leg, aiming her knee right for his groin, but Tony was prepared. Quickly, he placed his own knee between hers, causing her to be straddled seductively across his thigh. Her knee landed ineffectively against his hip and Ziva's face turned bright red, but Tony didn't seem to notice their suggestive position. His face was mere millimeters from hers, his cologne earthy and his dark eyes drilling intensely into hers. Ziva forgot to breathe as Tony spoke in a low whisper.

"Listen Ziva," he hissed, "I gave up the pacifiers and rattles a long time ago," his words were low in his throat, and Ziva was suddenly mesmerized by his sexy, full lips.

"It's sort of a pre-requisite to be out of diapers when you enter the police academy in this country," he added, and Ziva's face darkened.

"Maybe they should require their recruits to be more than immature monkeys," she retorted, and Tony gave her a hard look.

Ziva smirked, thinking she'd won, when Tony suddenly pressed his body harder against hers, the end of his nose actually brushing her forehead this time. Her eyes were locked on his, and she saw his gaze drop to her mouth for a moment before returning to look her in the eye again.

"Tony," she began in a warning tone, but the rest of her words were smothered as his warm mouth covered hers.

All of her senses went into overdrive, and Ziva could smell the scent of Tony's cologne stronger in her nostrils, and hear the frantic pounding of her own heart in her ears. With her wrists still pinned by Tony's strong hands, she was captive; unable to do anything about her situation. What she really wanted to do was stroke his strong jaw and cheek with her finger tips and run her fingers through his dark hair. Tony's mouth explored hers, his lips breaking contact to kiss her cheek and temple before he pulled back to look her in the face.

Ziva was breathless, and the look on her face was one of confusion and shock. Tony grinned wickedly.

"Look at you," he taunted, tightening his grip on her wrists when she tried to free herself, "I really didn't think you could be rendered speechless." He said, and Ziva licked her kiss-swollen lips.

"If I call you that again, will you kiss me again?" she asked, and Tony grinned.

"What, you like kissing immature monkeys like me?" he asked, releasing her hands.

"Only when they're named Tony," she answered, just as he kissed her again.