They spoke not a word as they drove back to the cabin, both lost in their own thoughts, a small smile playing about Ziva's very kissable lips.

They entered the house that had become their shared weekend home. The silence that continued between them as they worked together to put away their purchases was at once comfortable and unsettling, with a sizzle running beneath it that had both their hearts pounding.

Jethro stoked the fire while Ziva cleaned and wrapped the potatoes in foil so he could tuck them into the embers for slow cooking. They would take longer than the steak, so she figured they should get them started – while she was still able to consider such a mundane task.

While he took care of nestling the potatoes into just the right spot, she poured them each a generous splash of bourbon, hid the mistletoe nearby, kicked off her boots and came to sit beside him on the rug as he stared into the flames as though searching for answers to questions not yet asked.

"Guess we should talk," Gibbs observed in a low voice as he accepted his glass from her with a nod of thanks and then raised it to his lips.

The care and concern she discerned in his tone kept it just shy of sounding gruff. She sensed he was even more off-balance than she was, which made her want to wrap her arms around him and soothe him.

Given that she'd been more a soldier than a woman before getting to know Jethro, this was a little surprising in a night already near-to-bursting with the unexpected.

Though, to be honest, this was far from the first time she'd had such an urge where this man was concerned.

Ziva was quiet for the space of about three thoughtful heartbeats, then drained her glass in one swallow.

"You know," she drawled, placing her glass off to the side. "I am really more a woman of action than of words."

Gibbs' head swiveled toward her. She gave him a sultry smile that made his pants tight.

"Ziva," he started.

"And I think it is time for your reward," she announced in a provocative voice, reaching into the shadows by the fireplace and pulling out her purchase from young Benjamin.

She dangled it in front of his face just long enough for him to see what it was, then held it above his head.

He snorted out a light laugh that skittered down her spine and inflamed her senses even more.

And then she took his mouth with hers and laughter was the furthest thing from either of their minds.

As before, the kiss went on and on, spinning out, going deeper … connecting them on more than a physical level.

And it rocked them both.

Several kisses later, she pulled slightly back to take in air, then beaded a line of kisses along his chiseled jaw and down his neck. The hand holding the mistletoe came to rest over his shoulder.

"Ziva," he tried again thickly, his brain fogged with desire.

"Yes, Jethro?" she asked in a throaty murmur, leaning even more closely into him and nuzzling her face into his throat.

His head swam and for the life of him he had no idea what he'd been about to say.

"Uh …"

She grinned and then took pity on him. After pressing a kiss to his neck, she tilted her head back and looked into his eyes.

"Yes?" she prompted warmly.

Looking into her gorgeous face with desire swimming in those beautiful brown eyes did not help, so he dropped his eyelids for a moment and shook his head slightly.

"This'll change everything," he finally managed. Opening his eyes and snagging her gaze, he added, "Don't want to make a mistake with you. And worried about work."

Ziva looked at him for a long moment, considering what a good man he was … and resigned herself to once again not having what she longed for.

Her life in Mossad, her life as her father's daughter had banished dreams of a romantic sort into the most secret recesses of her heart, rarely seeing the light of day.

Oh, she'd had her share of meaningful and casual sex, but this attraction, complete with a sense of trust, affection and companionship, felt like ... far more.

A pregnant silence reigned for a few moments.

"Perhaps we could just have tonight," Ziva suggested softly, glancing down at the shadows dancing on the floor between them and the fire.

"That all you want?" he asked, his voice unreadable.

Ziva took a breath and gathered her courage for what she was about to admit.

"No. But I want you enough to take whatever you feel you can give me."

He stayed silent as his mind whirled, his head struggling with something that felt suspiciously like his heart – not to mention certain parts of his anatomy that were begging to do his thinking for him.

Her eyes shifted to the fire and she drew back slightly. He could feel her withdrawing in his silence and that was not what he wanted. He just wanted her to be sure. Them both to be sure.

"You are worried about the director," she presumed flatly, making a move to slide further away.

Perhaps that was her first guess because she was worried about Jenny, but not for the same reason she assumed he was. She figured he did not want to hurt his former lover by taking up with her friend, while she was concerned Jenny would make life difficult for them out of the mixed feelings and jealousy Ziva knew simmered beneath the redhead's cool surface where this man was concerned.

He caught her chin in his hand and turned her face back to his. Her eyes were guarded in a way they hadn't been in weeks, not with him.

"No," he disagreed firmly. "That's not what I'm worried about. Worried about this getting complicated because I want more than one night with you. Worried about screwing up 'cause God knows I've done that before. Got a rule about mixing dating with coworkers for a reason."

Ziva released a breath and forced herself to relax.

"Ah, yes. Rule … 12, is it not?" she asked with a faint, slightly sad curve to her lips.

"Yeah," he informed her distractedly, his eyes on her lips as his thumb rubbed across them, unable to help himself. Then he shook his head at himself. "And, Christ, Ziva – I'm almost twice your age."

"That bothers you," she guessed, not unkindly.

"It doesn't bother you?" he asked in some disbelief.

With a small smile, she shook her head no.

"I am older on the inside than I look on the outside," she revealed quietly, her eyes shifting off his with a faraway look in them.

Then, she visibly brought herself back to the present and looked into his handsome face once more.

"To be honest, I believe we balance each other well in many respects, including our ages – both on the inside and the outside," she shared softly. Then her eyes took on a sexy gleam and her mouth quirked enticingly. "And then there is the fact that I find you incredibly physically attractive, regardless of the difference in our years."

"Even with the gray hair?" he asked dubiously.

"Especially because of the gray in your hair," she husked warmly, brushing her fingertips through the silvery strands.

Gibbs gave a slight shake of his head, as though he didn't know what to make of that. She just smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. His hand smoothed up her back to tangle in her long, glossy curls. He could feel her thinking and waited for her to speak.

"What if …" Her voice drifted off as she questioned if she should continue.

"'What if' what?" he prompted quietly.

"What if we kept our private lives and our work lives separate?" she asked in a low voice. She looked up at him. "At work, I would be a liaison functioning as an agent and you would be the team leader. When we can get time away, we could come here and be … together. We could just keep it between us."

"That the kind of relationship you really want?" he asked, searching her eyes.

She shrugged lightly, both certainty and uncertainty banked in her eyes.

"I know that I want you and that I like being with you here, like this," she told him. "I am willing to do whatever you think is best with work to make that happen."

She paused for a moment.

"And I will admit that I am worried about what Jenny would do if she found out. She might even go as far as to terminate my position."

His eyes snapped to hers and hardened.

"What are you talking about?"

She released a pfft sound.

"You do not expect me to believe that you have not noticed she is having third thoughts about leaving you all those years ago?"

"Second thoughts," he responded absently, more focused on the meaning behind her words, but correcting her use of the phrase. He sensed her cocking her head at him and glanced at her. "It's second thoughts."

Ziva shook her head.

"She was having second thoughts when I first met her in Cairo," Ziva revealed surprisingly. "She is on at least her third round of regrets where you are concerned, if not more."

Gibbs shook his head and started to deny it. Ziva interrupted him.

"I am right about this, Jethro. A woman knows these things." She paused and laid her palm on his chest before sliding it slowly up to his shoulder, savoring the feel of him beneath her hand. "Especially when she is also completely fascinated by the man in question."

He continued to search her gaze, but found nothing but truth there.

"Wanted you since the day we met," he admitted. "If we do this, maybe keeping it away from work is best for now, but don't want you to think I'm ashamed of you. I'm not."

She gave him a genuine smile as she leaned into him once more, relieved that her feelings were reciprocated.

"I believe you," she assured him softly. "You are concerned and honorable. Those are two of the things I find most …" Ziva searched a moment for the right word. "Charming about you."

"Charming?" he all but snorted. "You fall on your head recently?"

She chuckled alluringly.

"No," she denied. "You are very a charming man, Special Agent Gibbs – you are simply selective as to when that side of you is revealed."

Then she narrowed her eyes at him playfully in that way of hers.

"But if, as you say, 'we do this,' you had better become even more selective. I do not share well."

"No sharing," he promised solemnly with that characteristic smile of his, bumping his nose into hers with a light-hearted warmth.

"Along those lines," he began, guiding the conversation back into more serious waters. "None of this is about Jen." His tone was nothing but certain as he sought to convince her. "She burned any bridges we might have had when she left without even telling me she was going. Got over that a long time ago. And I think you're wrong there, but doesn't matter to me if you're right."

He slid his hand from her chin along her jaw and speared his fingers into her hair.

"What matters is us. You matter to me," he told her with no room for doubt in his voice, before bending his head slowly to take her mouth in a kiss that started soft and unhurried, then melted into hotter and deeper, the slide of his tongue against hers prompting a moan from her throat.

"Jethro?" she mumbled against his lips after a long few moments of reveling in the attraction simmering between them.

He somewhat-reluctantly lifted his head and looked into her beautiful face, mesmerized by the emotion darkening her eyes.

"You matter to me, too," she whispered. She raised her fingertips to his cheek. "And I want this. I want you."

Then she closed her eyes and dipped her chin before turning her gaze to the fire.

"But it seems only fair to tell you that it feels as though there is more than physical attraction between us, at least for me." She paused for a moment, then pushed herself to say the rest. "And while that is new for me, I welcome it … though perhaps you would not."

He allowed her words to soak into him, could feel them healing something inside him that had been wounded for a long, long time. Then, he raised her cautious gaze to his with a gentle finger under her chin ...

Chucked Rule 12 out the window …

And took a leap into the unknown toward what he wanted.

What he needed.

"Me, too. All the above."

And something inside of her that she'd feared broken began to strengthen, to unfurl within her, as well.

The happy smile that slowly curved her lips was nothing less than enchanting and he couldn't take his eyes off her … until he was forced to close them as she brought their mouths together once more.

The kiss went on and on. In unspoken agreement, they both knew they'd done enough talking for now. Ziva's world spun as Jethro laid her out on the soft rug and stretched out alongside her, resting half over her.

He reached for the mistletoe that had fallen unnoticed beside her and held it above her head. He pulled back with a tender, teasing version of his half-smile tugging up one side of his lips.

"Maybe we could fasten this in your hair," he decided, kissing her again, both of them managing to grin at the same time.

As he left her lips to wander over her cheek and down to the base of her throat, she wondered an errant thought out loud in a seductive tone that had him even harder before her actual words registered.

"Perhaps I could make an outfit out of it and you could kiss me everywhere you find it."

He groaned out loud as all the blood in his body rushed south.

"Think we can manage that tonight without the outfit," he breathed. Then he glanced up at her roguishly from where his tongue was exploring the valley between her breasts. "But feel free to be on the lookout for one."

She laughed delightedly and hugged him to her. She loved the way they enjoyed each other, were just content together … and tried not to think about just exactly what she sensed she ultimately wanted with this smart, strong, handsome, sexy, loyal, dependable man.

Everything.

She'd known him all of three months and already knew she wanted everything.

Ziva pushed that aside for now and gave herself up to relishing his touch and the way he entrusted himself to hers.

Slowly, they undressed each other, pausing to explore each new patch of skin … finding those spots that made the other gasp … moan … whimper … need.

Eventually, after he had indeed kissed her, touched her over every inch of her delectable body, he rose above her. She instinctively, trustingly welcomed him between her thighs and held him close.

Looking down at her captivating expression as she was lost in the throes of their mutual passion, her dusky skin turned even more golden by the dancing flames nearby, he nearly spent himself right then and there. Grabbing for the last of his control, he commanded her to open her eyes.

As soon as she did, he readied himself at her moist, swollen entrance and pushed just far enough inside to feel her wetness rush to bathe his staff. Her pulse throbbing at her core, Ziva breathlessly begged him to finish this.

To complete her.

To complete them both.

"Jethro. Please."

He pushed slightly further inside and then withdrew, prompting a moan and then a whimper of protest from her. He teased her with those small movements a little longer, gradually going just a little deeper, wanting to make sure she was ready for all of him. Then, at last, he flexed his hips and plunged inside her to the hilt.

She gasped his name as he claimed her, even as he was claimed in return.

Finding their rhythm as though they were born for each other, they rode the wave of their passion with wild abandon until they could no longer hold back and crashed into completion together.

For long moments, they lay together, thundering hearts gradually calming to a gallop to a trot to a slow thud. Eventually, their breath evened and their limbs relaxed into each other until not even a whisper could have snaked between them.

When he would have moved off her, she stayed him with a husky murmur.

"Do not move. Please."

Not really wanting to move anyway, he relaxed back down onto her, his cheek pillowed on her soft, gentle breasts.

Eventually, Ziva released a happy sigh and carded the fingers of one hand through the silky strands of his enticing silver and dark hair that shimmered in the firelight, while her other hand swept slowly up and down his back.

"Jethro?" she murmured drowsily.

"Mmmm?"

"How does the idea of planting mistletoe around the cabin strike you?"

He heard the smile in her voice and she felt his grin against her skin.

"How does the idea of planting a lot of it strike you?" he asked suggestively.

Her delightful laugh danced on the air and brushed over him like warm silk.

"Well. Perhaps I will be able to make my outfit after all."


A/N: Thanks for continuing to read and I certainly hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. About 3 more chaps will finish this one out, I think. (There, there, AA - stop rolling around in laughter or you'll start coughing like a seal again. ;D) Now that it's M, y'all may need to watch for the updates.

And here's a special HUG for WithTheGrain who emailed me with a very perceptive, um, request that went something like, "Enough fiddling! Post it already!" Does she know me or what? ;) Thanks, my friend, for the nudge and for the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes when your friends know and love you - and are even willing to give you an affectionate Gibbs-slap when it wouldn't come amiss. ;)