A/N: Yes, I wrote this in my Forensic Biology lecture on Bioterrorism this morning. *grins* And? :P
March 2
"When you have difficulty saying 'no', think of how much more difficult things are likely to become if you say 'yes'." - Vernon Coleman
"Ziva!" Tony whined quietly, poking a pen in her ribs for emphasis.
She caught it easily, not even looking away from the person in front of her. "How many times do I have to say no?"
"As many times as it takes you until you say yes!"
"That will not happen."
"Why?!"
Ziva muttered something under her breath in Hebrew. She had taught Tim Krav Maga for a reason. Now, he had an advantage over the other man. McGee fought well – something that could one day save his life. And apparently, Tony did not find it fair.
"Why do we have to be here?" He carried on, nudging her again with his elbow this time. "I survived a bioterrorist attack. I should at least be allowed to skip this class."
"Category A bioterrorism agents include anthrax, smallpox, plague and..."
"See?" He leant back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, clearly sulking.
"Gibbs is here." Ziva pointed out, leaning back too.
"Gibbs is either asleep or getting felt up by-"
Ziva pinched the top of his thigh, silencing his words but earning a yelp of pain. "Shut up."
"Say yes." He hissed, staring at her with a glint in his eyes.
"No."
"Is there a problem at the back?" A few people turned as the spokeswoman paused to see what the commotion was about. Gibbs too.
"Okay, so he's not asleep." Tony noted, waving off the woman who carried on with her presentation. "I'm worried about how the Director is keeping him occupied because-"
Ziva pinched him again, a little harder this time. Leaning closer to run her lips across his neck, she stroked the length of his leg, stopping short of his crotch. "Shut up." She repeated, suddenly grateful they had chosen the back row.
"What are you doing?" He whispered, coughing nervously. "We're in a room full of people that can easily turn around."
She stroked him over the fabric of his trousers, kissing his neck. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No."
"Was that a yes?" She teased, applying more pressure as he bit his lip.
"No." He rested his left hand against her hip, scrunching her shirt in his hand. "No."