A/N: Sooo, I've been rewatching NCIS lately, which is something I like to do for comfort whenever I'm sick in any way^^, and I just reached Chimera and there was this one moment when Tony offered to check Ziva for spots when they thought there was an airborne virus on board. I just couldn't help but think of another way this could have played out, if they had been stuck on that ship for longer and not found out about the rest of the story so soon. So, here goes :D

Chimera.

The hours were ticking by slowly, almost painfully so as the team waited for Ducky's final diagnosis, or any news from the navy as to the nature of this ghost ship's mission. They had checked every inch of it by now and there was no answer to be found, as it seemed. Tony had been rambling on about being infected with something or other and how he could almost feel the spots appearing on his body. There were, you know, spots appearing, but hypochondria does that to you as well. None of the others showed any symptoms just yet, so there really didn't seem much cause for concern so far.

Despite all that, everyone was a little on edge. There had not been a clear-cut reason for them to believe in anything other than some airborne virus being present, so it really was the most valid option so far. The day before, Tony had jokingly offered to check Ziva for spots as well, activating her gag reflex as well as giving her a moment to think about what she was going to do, if the virus theory proofed true, before they all met their untimely end.

Truth be told, she wasn't entirely calm about the whole thing either. Of course she would never show that to the others, but the idea did get to her and in moments like these, she couldn't help but think of the regrets she would have, if she died soon. A big source of comfort, however, was Gibbs' mere presence on this ship. He seemed just as calm as she was, though she could imagine that even he wasn't immune to the thoughts this threat invoked. Even if he wasn't fearing for his own life, he was, most definitely, fearing for his team, He had always been more concerned with their well-being than his own.

As their second day on this floating death-trap neared its end, the whole team gathered around Ducky, who really had very little new information at this point. Everything depended on the Navy declassifying some things and giving them the chance to find a proper way out. Until then, they would be stuck here or probably even die here. Sadly, field rations seemed like the worst last meal any of them could ever imagine, but they had to make due for now. No one actually wanted to risk using the on-board kitchen at this point.

After they ate, they all made their way to their respective living quarters – bunks that hadn't been in use by the former crew. Gibbs had chosen to go a little farther below deck than his team and Ziva somehow found her way to the same vicinity. McGee really just needed to be close enough to fresh air, as his sea-sickness was slowly getting out of hand, despite the pills. DiNozzo wanted to stay near Ducky, as he could possibly be the first to need a doctor and Ducky, of course stayed near McGee, since sea-sickness was something he actually fully knew how to handle.

Walking through the passageways to their bunks, Ziva and Gibbs couldn't help but slowly feel the weight of the situation. 'So, Tony check you for spots yet, Ziver?', he wasn't usually the type to engage in idle chit chat or putting humorous spins on things, but with Ziva, he often tried new things and very few things made him uncomfortable when it was just the two of them.

'If I were laying dead on Ducky's table, I would not let DiNozzo check me for anything of the kind!' It all seemed so unreal. Being stuck here with them, not knowing if they would ever go home, not knowing if they would see the sun come up the next morning. Talking with Gibbs, it helped, and watching him smirk at this comment might have been the best part of her day so far.

A rat crossed their way as their neared their quarters and Ziva could have sworn she saw her boss flinch for a second there. He must have been truly distracted, if a tiny little rodent could get a reaction out of him. 'So, what are you thinking about, Gibbs? Other than the obvious doomsday thoughts we probably all have right now, yes?'

He stopped as they reached her hatch and turned towards her. 'Life is short. Probably even shorter now than it ever seemed...', he took a breath, 'if you need anything... if you need anyone to check you for spots or something... I swear I won't send DiNozzo.'

She couldn't help but smile at that. He couldn't even look into her eyes when he said that. It seemed so un-Gibbs to even suggest something like that, moreover to do so in Tony's words. But he was right. Life is short. Neither of them wanted to die with regrets and the most obvious one to both of them, one they could remedy right then and there, was the attraction that had been building between them from the first time they met.

She loved teasing Tony and flirting with him, but at the end of the day, Gibbs was the one on her mind – the one she would want to break rule 12 with. Of course, he had always been off-limits to her – he was her boss, more than twice her age, and he literally had a rule against this type of thing – but that didn't stop her from imagining all kinds of things about him. What was hiding under those shirts? What was hiding in those pants? What kind of lover would he be? How would it feel to be touched by those hands?

It should have felt wrong, in so many ways, but somehow it didn't and they both knew it.

'I can deal with spots, but regrets are not something I would like to take to the casket with me...'; she whispered in his ear, his hands resting on her hips as she did so.

'Grave, Ziver', he corrected her, smiling at his beautiful little ninja, 'Your bunk or mine?'

Ziva grinned. They were already standing in front of hers, but somehow even that seemed like a long way to go. She pinned him against the bulkhead and drew his lips to hers in an earth-shattering, mind-numbing first kiss. They had both imagined what this would feel like, but their imaginations hadn't even come close to the real thing. Two years of sexual tension building up between them were sure to give them a very interesting last night on earth.

With a primal groan, Jethro turned them and trapped Ziva between the bulkhead and his strong, already rather aroused body. 'The only good thing about an almost empty, somewhat haunted ship – bulkheads can be re-purposed...', he mumbled into her neck as he lifted her and let her legs wrap around his waist.

As their clothes fell to the ground one by one, their lips always found each others bodies again and their hands started roaming over every piece of skin they could find. Patience was a luxury better left for people who weren't likely to die soon. If the virus was going to get them, at least they would take a clear image of each other to the grave.

How she ended up on the nearest stairs with her boss' silver hair tickling against her thighs, she wasn't entirely sure, but at this point all she cared about was the feeling of his tongue slowly slipping in and out of her. Every groan he coaxed out of her would make him smile against her wet core. He should have done this a lot sooner.

After reaching her first high, she looked at him through still clouded eyes and couldn't help but wonder, if she had ever seen any man more aroused than him. Right there between her thighs, begging for entrance, was the most magnificent member she had ever come in contact with. It wasn't that he was particularly long or anything like that, but somehow he seemed just perfect. Any bigger and he would have been too big for her – been there, done that, not enjoyed it too much. There he was, standing at attention, veins throbbing and his head glistening in the dim light of the passageway.

'You know, you almost look as if you've never seen one before...', Jethro grinned seductively, a drop of her juices still adorning the corner of his mouth.

As she drew him down to her, biting his lip teasingly, she wrapped her other hand around his thick shaft and helped guide him inside of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist again and her hips matched his movements as best as possible, considering the location. Stairs really weren't the most comfortable spot for this type of thing, but who has time to waste on opening a damn hatch?

Between thrusts and kisses, they both seemed to loose themselves in their pleasure and while there would be bruises from metal stairs on both their backs the following morning, they would also wake up with the memory of an incredible night.

Thrust by thrust, stroke by stroke, they neared their final releases as their hand kept exploring, squeezing, fumbling with a nipple here or there. Her fingers found their way into his hair – that gorgeous silver hair – and ran through curlier silver a moment later, scraping her nails over his chest and settling on his very, very well-formed bottom. His lips had found a sensitive spot behind her ear and he couldn't help but bury his nose halfway in her hair while nibbling on that inch of skin that seemed to drive her mad. One of his hands was cradling the other side of her face, fingers tangled in her long locks while his thumb ran over her jaw, feeling the vibration of every moan that escaped her lips.

His other hand had found its way down to his new favorite toy and his thumb rubbed over it at an ever-changing pace, beckoning her, sending her right over the edge once more – twice more. It wasn't until he felt her pulse around him for the second time that he let his own release wash over him – with age came experience after all. Somehow, he had always found it to be the most pleasurable to watch a beautiful woman writhe beneath him, moaning and screaming in ecstasy. Ziva was no exception – she might actually be the best example of this – as she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever met.

Slowly coming down from their high, Jethro placed a soft, loving kiss on her lips. 'If we ever survive this, we're doing that over and over again, until we get tired of it!'

'We will never get tired of this, Jethro.', she smiled at him and in that moment, she knew that no matter how or when they might die – hours or years from now – they will never regret this.

And they will probably go out with a bang...

The End.

A/N: At some point, my girls got a text from me, asking how much detail I could go into while describing Gibbs' cock, without making the story too smutty, really... oh well, if you have any ideas how much detail is too much detail, please tell me^^ I haven't written smut in a while and I'm not entirely sure how realistic this is, but okay... just... I hope you enjoyed it and please leave a review, they're greatly appreciated! :D