Summary: A silly little, semi-smutty, fluffy one-shot(: Tiva are sharing a bed at the Inn, as there are no other available vacancies.
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, sadly. Or Frank Sinatra.
Tony and Ziva lay on opposite sides of the double bed. One would yank the blanket their way, and the other would counter the attack and pull it back to them. Finally finding a balance, Ziva tried to catch some sleep, knowing they had a long day ahead of them with meetings with Parkview Police Department, SecNav, the team, possible suspects, a crime scene analasys, videochats with the Sergeant, Gibbs' barking orders, and God knows what else.
Just when she thought she was going to fall asleep, Tony started singing to himself. It was a Frank Sinatra song, one she had sung with him before, but now, it just annoyed her. She kicked her foot back to his leg, but he ignored it. She smacked his arm with her hand, but he ignored it.
"Tony, shut up!" She whisper-yelled. Again, he ignored her. "SHHHH!" He stayed quiet for a few seconds. But only a few seconds. He resumed singing again, and Ziva shot a warning glare. "Tony, I will cause you bodily harm if you do not shut up!" He stopped. Then sang again. Ziva shot up, grabbed her pillow, and lunged for Tony, covering his face with it, hands on either side of his face. He, too, pushed himself up, hands roaming her arms. When the pillow came off his face, Ziva was smirking. "I warned you!"
"Oh yeah?" He asked, shifting his weight. He had grabbed her wrists and pinned them down to the bed, knees on either side of her hips, straddling easily. "Now who's winning?" He asked, smiling cockily. She made a stubborn, concentrating face before wriggling an arm free and putting it around his neck and yanking him to the side, sitting on his stomach. She smiled a come-and-get-me grin.
"I am." She said, brown eyes glimmering in the moonlight coming through the crack in the curtain. Their eyes met, faces suddenely not so playful. Tony's blue-green orbs shifted from her eyes to her lips before he leaned up and covered them with his own. His hand went up to the back of her neck, fingers pushing up into her curls, the other finding its way to the hem of her blue, green and white striped cotton tanktop, going up under to roam the soft skin of her back, running over a few scars. One of her hands were on the side of his face as his back met the bed again, she went down with him, their bodies closing onto each other. Her other small hand was on top of his head, playing with his messy, choppy hairstyle. When the kiss broke, Tony had a soft smile on his face as his head dipped to kiss her neck and collerbone. After one was placed, his mouth just lingered, staying put. "Tony..."
"Don't...I already know what you're gonna say...You're gonna say, 'Tony, we cannot do this. It is not right, and there are rules. I m sorry..', isn't that right?" Tony asks softly, upset.
"No..I was gonna say I've been waiting for you to do that for seven years." She smiled as he locked their lips together again. Who knew trying to suffocate him would get him to kiss her? Only Tony and Ziva.