A/N: Inspired by otpprompts: Person A of your OTP is in Person B's kitchen, cooking an omelette in nothing but their socks and underwear when Person B finds them. How Person B reacts and how Person A got there is up to you.

The smell of eggs woke Tony from a rather interesting dream. Blinking, he tried to clear the fog in his head. He hadn't brought a woman home in, well, he could barely remember, so he was at a loss as to where exactly the aroma was coming from. When he realized cooking odors from the downstairs apartment sometimes wafted into his through the vents, he yawned and closed his eyes again, snuggling into the pillow and hoping to get back to the very appealing dream he'd been having about his partner.

That is, until a sound, definitely coming from his kitchen, made his eyes fly open and hair stand on end. His gun was in the living room and he briefly wished he had Ziva's habit of sleeping with a gun under a pillow.

Feeling rather exposed, wearing only boxers and having nothing to protect himself with, he tiptoed towards the kitchen silently, making sure to avoid the two creaky floorboards on the way. The tension in his body made way for confusion when he saw Ziva, back turned towards him, standing in the middle of his kitchen.

"Good morning, Tony," she said cheerfully without turning.

He tilted his head, he knew he hadn't made a sound, and briefly wondered whether Mossad implanted some kind of sonar in their officers. He closed his eyes at the ridiculous thought.

"Why are you in your underwear?" His voice still raspy from sleep.

She turned and gave him a coy smile. "Are you complaining, Tony?"

His eyes moved down her body, remembering the dream he had woken from. When he noticed her socked feet, his lips quirked upwards.

"No," he drawled. "It's too early to complain."

"That has never stopped you before," she teased.

He let out a chuckle and watched her turn back towards the stove. Admiring the view for a few more seconds, he ran his hands through his hair and over his face, stepping closer.

"Why are you preparing breakfast in my apartment? In your underwear?" He tried again.

"I was hungry," she deadpanned.

Tony was momentarily distracted by the peaceful look on her face as she busied herself with the food in front of her. He wanted to ask her why cooking relaxed her so much, but then his brain caught up with the conversation. His brow furrowed.

"That was only half an answer," he said.

She looked at him with a relaxed smile. "I didn't have any spare clothes with me and didn't want to sleep in the ones I'd been wearing yesterday."

Tony gave her a small nod, then tensed, eyes wide open when her answer sank in.

"Wait! Are you telling me you spent the night here, half-naked, and I didn't know about it?"

"You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you after the long case we've had," Ziva replied matter-of-factly, seemingly not in the least bit concerned that she had broken into his apartment.

He blinked a few times, while Ziva grabbed two plates, cut the omelette in half and transferred it to the plates. His stomach growled in response, but he held up a hand as she tried to make her way to the kitchen table.

"Why, exactly, are you here?"

"We were so busy with the case I had forgotten my apartment building was being fumigated until I got home." She looked at him and shrugged. "I didn't think you'd mind."

As she walked passed him, brushing closer to him than necessary, he replied, "This could've gotten really awkward if I'd brought home a date last night."

He was only slightly offended as she guffawed and said his name in a sultry, yet admonishing tone, like only she could.

"You and I both know you haven't brought a woman home in quite a while," she said, staring him in the eye longer than necessary. Lightly biting her bottom lip probably wasn't necessary either, but Tony was pretty sure that was completely involuntary on her part, and, again, he wasn't about to complain.

Sitting down next to her, Tony dug into his eggs enthusiastically. He didn't bother to hide his sideway glances. She didn't seem to mind. In fact, when he'd finished his plate and stretched his back, arms in the air, her eyes roved all over his body unapologetically.

When Ziva finished her breakfast and looked him in the eye again, he said, "Next time you decide to have an impromptu, half-naked sleepover at my place…wake me up so I can do more than just dream about it."