Thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter, and to everyone who's following this! Hope you enjoy this one x

Gibbs took a long swallow of his beer before putting the bottle back on the table and looking around him. Someone – he suspected Rivkin again – had organised dinner out for the group of agents, and so far it actually hadn't been too bad. Normally he hated occasions like this but, he admitted to himself, sitting opposite Ziva had probably helped. He hadn't spoken much to her over the kreplach that the restaurant, Mayan Habira, was rightly famous for, but every so often he had caught her eye and could tell she was trying to suppress a smile. She knew exactly what he was thinking about.

Their kiss yesterday afternoon had left Gibbs unable to concentrate for the rest of the day. When the other agents had retired to write reports and check in with their teams back home, Gibbs had headed back to his own room and, after pacing for an hour or so, had ended up lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what the hell he had got himself into. He had still been there at midnight when he had heard a soft knock on his door.

He nodded his thanks to Alon as another bottle of beer was put down in front of him, and watched as the Shin Bet agent handed Ziva a glass of wine. He wouldn't have put her down as a red wine drinker, but then again, he realised that there was a lot he didn't know. He could still feel the heat of her lips on his, and his skin still tingled when he thought about her touch, her hands and fingers on his body. Her warmth and softness had taken him by surprise, and later on, in the bright light of day, he wondered whether he had imagined the hint of self-consciousness in her eyes as he had taken off her clothes. If it had been there, it hadn't taken long to disappear, and neither of them could have held back even if they wanted to. When Ziva had finally left his room at five that morning, Gibbs had been convinced there was no point in even trying to sleep, but two hours later he had awoken from a dreamless slumber that left him feeling more refreshed than if he'd been asleep all night.

'Is something on your mind, Gibbs?'

He looked across the table to where Ziva was sitting, an innocent look on her face as she sipped her wine. She was next to Hayward – although in Gibbs's mind he would always just be 'the man from Interpol' – and now the other agent chuckled.

'He was getting the eye earlier. The sailor who was pretending to be on deck watch. Reckon she's what's on his mind'.

Gibbs just smirked. He wasn't going to correct him. But as Hayward turned to Ziva, changing the subject and asking her something about Tel Aviv, Gibbs noticed a flash of something in her brown eyes before she answered him. Jealousy, perhaps? He felt a small stab of satisfaction at the thought that she wanted him to herself. Even if it was just for the next few days.

As he half listened to their conversation, his mind returned to earlier, running over the day. The exercises had gone well, a complete contrast to the disaster of yesterday. This time it had been bombs. To be more precise, an Improvised Exlosive Device in the morning and a suicide bomber at the port entrance in the afternoon. Everything, for once, had gone almost to plan. The IED had been dismantled before lunch with no casualties, and, although the 'suicide bomber' had departed from his script and pretended to blow himself up, he had at least done it in the deserted car park where the only fatality would have been a senior officer's Audi.

Despite their success, Ziva had been very quiet all through the afternoon and evening. Gibbs had wondered whether she was regretting the night before, but the way she had looked at him earlier when she knew no one else was watching convinced him that last night was not the problem. Maybe, he thought, there wasn't a problem. Maybe she just wasn't feeling particularly sociable. Or maybe, like him, she was thinking about when they might be able to get some time alone again.

The rest of the evening, for Gibbs, passed in a haze of half-followed conversations, more Goldstar, and thoughts of his colleague that would probably have been considered totally inappropriate to be having a restaurant had anyone else known about them. Even so, he was surprised that it was still reasonably early when Ziva announced that she was tired and was heading back. As she drained her glass and pulled on her linen jacket, it was Gibbs's turn to experience a flash of jealousy when Rivkin offered to walk back with her, and he found himself wondering how much, if anything, the other Mossad agent had guessed about the two of them. He was glad when she refused, laughing, saying that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, but felt his good mood sink a little as he watched her walk out of the restaurant.

Even in such a short space of time, he realised that he had started to want to be around her. It wasn't just the little sizzle of excitement he got from their physical attraction. He enjoyed her company as well, and even though she had been quiet tonight, she had managed to lift the conversation round the table a bit, in his eyes at least. Now he was left with a group of half-cut, 'all men together' agents, and it wasn't long before he started wondering how soon he could reasonably make his own excuses and leave without raising suspicions.

It was eleven o'clock when Gibbs paused outside Ziva's door, wondering whether to knock or whether to leave it for tonight and try and speak to her tomorrow. He didn't want to disturb her if she was asleep, but on the other hand he wanted to be with her again, even though it was only a couple of hours since he had seen her at dinner. He knew she would have got back safely – he couldn't use that as an excuse for checking on her – but she had been quiet, and that was niggling at him for some reason. And he couldn't deny he wanted to kiss her again. In fact, he thought wryly, there was quite a lot he wouldn't mind doing again.

He raised his hand to knock, deciding that she wouldn't have any compunction about telling him where to go if she didn't want him there, but before he could tap on the door he heard the handle turn.

'Does it always take you this long to knock on women's doors?'

She was dressed in sleepwear – powder blue check shorts, a blue sleeveless top and a grey hoodie with the zip undone – but, he thought, she didn't look the least bit sleepy. Looking past her, he could see a book open on the table beside the bed and the pillows propped up against the wall, her clothes from earlier folded neatly on the chair. She must have heard him outside, and he shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

'Just yours. Figured you'd be pissed off if I woke you up'.

Ziva stood aside to let him in, and quietly shut the door behind him.

'I was not asleep. So you did not need to worry'.

She padded back to the bed and slipped a marker into the book before closing it and turning to Gibbs, one eyebrow raised at his slightly amused look.

'What?'

'Nothing'. Gibbs shook his head. 'Just….pajamas. Book. Didn't have you down as the reading-in-bed type'.

Ziva raised the other eyebrow, but Gibbs saw that she was not annoyed.

'There is a lot you do not know, Agent Gibbs'.

The playful tone in her voice made him smile, and when she moved in front of him he reached out to rest his hands on her hips, drawing her closer to him.

'Hmm. That an invitation?'

She laughed, but didn't reply as she leaned up to press her lips to his. The long, slow, intense kiss left no room in Gibbs's mind for anything else, and when they broke apart Ziva closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest, taking a deep breath. He rested his chin on top of her head, and it was a few moments before he could speak.

'You were quiet tonight'.

She slowly pulled away, and went to sit back on the bed, leaning against the pillows with her knees tucked up towards her chin. It suddenly struck him how young she looked, with her dark curls loose down her back and the hoodie that was too big for her slipping off one shoulder. He doubted whether she would answer his question, but thought it was worth a try anyway.

'Something on your mind?'

She shook her head as he realised he had echoed her question from earlier in the evening, when she teased him in the restaurant. She knew it too, and even though a slight guardedness had crept in to her expression, her eyes were twinkling.

'No. I was just not feeling very sociable, I suppose'.

'Hmm'.

He sat down at the bottom of the bed, his back against the wall, and kicked off his shoes as they sat in silence for a while. It wasn't uncomfortable, but Gibbs could feel Ziva watching him. When he turned his head to face her, her expression was thoughtful, appraising. He got the feeling he was being sized up again, but this time, he thought, she wasn't really looking at his body. She was wondering whether to trust him with something.

He waited. He wasn't going to push. And besides, he might be totally wrong.

'My little sister died in a suicide bombing. Three years ago'.

Gibbs looked at her, but her eyes were no longer on him. She was gazing at the book on the table, and it crossed his mind that he had no idea what the title was since it was printed in Hebrew.

'Must have been hard'.

He guessed that she wouldn't want sympathy, and so didn't move, or elaborate. But his mind started ticking over, wondering if perhaps the exercise this afternoon had brought back some memories Ziva would rather have forgotten.

She seemed to know what he was thinking.

'I am used to dealing with the threat'. She smiled humourlessly. 'All Israelis are. And agents are trained to leave their personal circumstances behind'.

Gibbs smiled gently. He understood what she meant, probably better than she realised.

'Not so easy'.

She tore her gaze away from the book and looked at him, and he could see the pain in her eyes that she couldn't quite hide.

'It would have been Tali's birthday today. She would have been nineteen'. She paused. 'I could not help…..remembering'.

Gibbs nodded slowly. He saw what it had cost her to tell him that. He realised that, as far as she was concerned, her feelings were a weakness, not a natural human reaction to a difficult situation, and he also knew that no matter what he said, she would probably still feel that way. The fact that she had said anything to him at all made him wonder if perhaps she too was beginning to experience something beyond the strong physical attraction that had caught them both. And he shocked himself when he found that he wanted to return that trust by telling her that he knew all too well how she felt.

He didn't say any of that. He could tell from the look on her face that he didn't really need to. But as he thought over what she had said, he felt a spark of anger flare within him that he couldn't disguise.

'Your father scheduled you on this exercise today?'

Ziva nodded.

Gibbs couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice.

'Seriously?'

'Of course.'

Ziva actually smiled at the expression of disbelief on Gibbs's face.

'He worked on the day of the funeral. And he always had to be reminded of our birthdays. Even Tali's. So I would not expect him to remember it now that she is dead'.

Gibbs just shook his head. He hadn't really formed an opinion of Eli David up until that point. He had not seen enough of him to justify it. But now he found he didn't want – or need – to see any more.

'It is just the way he is'. Ziva's voice was quiet. 'But I maybe should not have told you. It is not something you needed to be burdened with'.

This time Gibbs did reach out for her, and was surprised when she shifted her knees down so that he could pull her into a hug.

'Glad you did'.

His words were muffled against her hair, but he felt her nod against his chest. She had been worried about his reaction, and he tightened his arms around her, trying to let her know that she didn't need to be.

'Want me to stay?'

Ziva pulled gently away from him, smiling.

'Both of us sleeping on a single bed would be a bit uncomfortable, would it not?'

'Managed last night'.

'Hmm'. Her hand wandered down his stomach and along the top of his thigh, making his skin tingle even through his jeans. 'As I recall, we did not sleep last night'.

Gibbs reached up a finger and traced the line of her jaw, down her neck to her collarbone, and was gratified to hear her sharp intake of breath and to see the desire in her brown eyes.

'I suppose', she murmured, 'we could manage for one night'.

He slipped the hoodie off her shoulders, and leaned over to press his lips against the smooth, tanned skin, brushing her hair out of the way and smiling as she took a deep breath, trying to control her reaction. A low moan escaped her as his lips dropped lower, to the top of her breast above the pajamas, and he thought it was the sexiest sound he had ever heard. Single bed or not, he wasn't planning on going anywhere.

Last night, they had been frantic, hungry, hard with each other, wanting everything at once. Tonight, like their kiss earlier, it was slow, deep, intense, and no less passionate. Ziva let him take control and set the pace, and he took his time, playing with her, sweetly torturing her, discovering the places where she loved to be kissed and the spots that he could touch with his fingers that would make her writhe underneath him, begging for more. He was greedy, soaking up her soft moans and the feel of her body pressed against his, and it fleetingly crossed his mind that it was first time in a long time that he had made love to someone like this.

When they finally fell asleep in the early hours, they were close in each other's arms not just out of necessity, but out of need and want. Neither of them said anything about the morning, when Gibbs would have to try and leave Ziva's room without anyone seeing. His last thought before he drifted down into sleep was whether it would really be so bad if they did.