Summary: Tony jumps at the chance to mix business with pleasure. (Prompt: Tony/Ziva, Bondage)
Pairing: Tony/Ziva, sort of
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I in no way claim ownership of, affiliation with, or monetary interest in NCIS, CBS, and related entities.
Author's Note: This was for the NCIS Thing-a-Thon IV. The prompt was Tony/Ziva, Bondage.

Following Orders

"So what'd the boss say we had to do to get back in his good graces?" Tony cheerfully ignored Ziva's glare. He had feigned an urgent and uncontrollable call of nature to avoid the dressing down sure to follow the debacle at the convenience store, figuring that it really was all Ziva's fault that she was too easily distracted by his masculine charms.

"Gibbs said we would have to learn to work together, even if it killed us. He warned me not to come back until we have spent some time together in bondage."

Tony's suave grin faltered momentarily as his eyebrows jerked upwards. "Bondage? That's Gibbs' order?"

"Yes. 'To learn to trust each other so that does not happen again.'"

"You're sure that's what he said?"

"Are you implying that I do not listen closely? It was your inability to listen that got us into this mess!"

"Uh, no, I'm sure your listening skills are topnotch."

"You think I cannot handle a little bondage, then?" Ziva tossed her head, eyes glittering in gleeful anticipation of a challenge. "Or maybe it is you who cannot handle it."

"Hey, I can handle it." He bet McGee wouldn't be so cool in this situation. Maybe he could rub it in later. Bondage and McGeek-baiting. Today was definitely looking up.

"Come on!" While Tony contemplated his prospects, Ziva had stalked away and was waiting impatiently for the elevator. "Stop pushing daisies! We have to get this done before we can get back to work."

"Picking daisies," Tony corrected as he jogged over to join Ziva in the elevator just as the doors slid shut.

"Same difference." She shrugged dismissively, clearly eager to focus on the task at hand.

Raking his fingers through his hair and flashing a seductive grin, Tony casually flicked the emergency switch. Cool, DiNozzo. Play it cool.

"What are you doing? We are supposed to--"

"Seeing how anxious you are to get started, I didn't think I should make you wait any longer. And since I'm a gentleman, I'll let you go first." What woman in the world could refuse an offer like that, especially coupled with an extra dose of the patented DiNozzo charm? Tony produced his handcuffs from his pocket with a flourish and sidled up next to Ziva. Before he could snap even one metal band around her slim wrists, though, he found himself slammed to the ground, his arms bent quite painfully in the wrong direction, his left ear crumpled against the floor, and a very sharp heel grinding into the small of his back.

He couldn't understand what she was saying, and he didn't know whether it was the fault of her Hebrew or his traumatized head. Without relaxing her grip, she jolted the elevator back into motion. Something had gone terribly wrong, and what was worse, Tony had no idea what it was. Had she expected to be chatted up before getting down to business? Perhaps the elevator had been a poor choice of location. Did she want to be the one to initiate? Or maybe she wasn't into handcuffs--were ropes or silk scarves more her thing?

The buzzing in his ears was not a good sign. Tipped sideways, Gibbs materialized through the doors, his expression shifting from mildly curious to murderous. Ziva's shouting must not have been too complimentary, then.

After a minute of intense discussion, during which Ziva punctuated her arguments with agonizing little jerks that forced Tony's hands closer and closer towards the back of his head, Gibbs apparently negotiated his release. She reluctantly relinquished her hold with one last wrench, but glowered fiercely as Tony scrambled to his feet and backed into the corner. His hearing returned in time to be blasted by Gibbs' growling interrogation.

"What the hell were you thinking, DiNozzo?"

"I was just following your orders, Boss!"

"My orders? I said you two needed to spend a little time bonding--I was thinking over a cup of coffee, maybe a Danish or two if you wanted to splurge. I did not suggest you assault Officer David in the elevator!"

"Bonding?" Tony groaned. His stomach plummeted, and his plaintive excuse rang hollow and inane even to his own echoing ears. "But...but Ziva said bondage."

With his head still reeling from its violent encounter with the floor, he was too slow to avoid the slap that sent his brain caroming off the front of his skull.