Ziva's eyes popped open at the sound, then fluttered closed again. "Do not answer it," she muttered thickly into his mouth, tightening the hand she had in his hair and dragging the other down his evening-roughened cheek.
"I should..." he attempted half-heartedly, but the words disappeared somewhere in the air between them.
She hooked one ankle around his the back of his thigh, locking him in his current position, and pulled her hand away from his face long enough to drag one of his to the hem of her t-shirt. "They will go away."
His tongue flicked over her lips, and she felt rather than saw him smile against her mouth. "They'd better." His fingers curled slowly into the edge of the t-shirt, inching it up her back as he gathered it into his fist.
Ziva moaned and arched into him.
A fist rapped against the apartment door.
They both froze in disbelief, hoping there wasn't a second knock. When there was no more sound after a few seconds, he slid his hands under the t-shirt and spread them across her back, pulling her against him.
The knock came again, this time louder and more insistent. "They're not going to go away," he gasped, reluctantly lowering his hands. "I'll just go..."
"Tony." Her hand fisted in his hair.
He nearly sobbed with the effort it took to pull away from her. "Just...wait there. I'll get rid of them," he told her reassuringly, then nearly gave in again when his eyes landed on her swollen lips. "No." He visibly shook himself. "I'll get rid of them." It was a promise to himself and to her, and before she could reach out to draw him back in, he was on his way to the door.
"I don't know what you're selling," he called to the intruder through the door as he worked the two locks on it and turned the knob, "but I am not in the mood to buy any of -" His voice dropped like a stone at the sight of the face in front of him, and he blinked. "McGee?"
It came out on startled squeak, and McGee eyed him curiously. "Hey, Tony. Sorry for stopping by without calling," he said as he took a step into the apartment past a too-shocked-to-resist DiNozzo, "but I was in the neighborhood and I wanted to talk to you about -"
He stopped short, staring into the kitchen with eyes that nearly bugged out of his head. "-Ziva?" he finished incredulously.
Ziva, caught out in the open, slithered off the counter and faced him with what dignity she could muster. "Hello, McGee."
"I was just..." McGee tried again, but got caught up in staring from one embarrassed coworker to the other.
"Speak, McGee!" Tony barked in exasperation. Whatever the other man had been about to say, it couldn't be any worse than what he'd already seen.
"Uh," McGee stammered, trying to get his feet back under him, "I wanted to talk to you about, uh, Ziva -" He stole an embarrassed glance at her - "and I was in the neighborhood, so I came by, but then outside your building I ran into, uh..."
He stopped again and looked over his shoulder at the still-open apartment door where, for the first time, the room's occupants noticed McGee's companion: a pale and wide-eyed Jeanne. "I didn't think you'd mind, so I told your doorman she was with me. Which," he added hastily, backing toward the door, "was clearly not a wise choice on my part, so I'll just be going now and leave you - all - to it. Whatever 'it' is. Not that that's any of my business."
"I should go, too," Jeanne hastened to throw in as McGee almost backed into her in his haste. "This is...obviously a bad time...I should have, um, called..."
"No!" Tony automatically held out a hand to stop her, then remembered the woman standing behind him and winced. He looked over his shoulder at Ziva. "I mean -"
Ziva, cheeks bright red now, raised her eyebrows challengingly at him. "Yes, Tony? What did you 'mean'?"
"I..."
McGee, not taking his eyes off the volatile situation unfolding deeper inside the apartment, continued backing through the door, taking Jeanne with him. "Sorry, Miss Benoit," he muttered out of the side of his mouth, "but you're obviously right that this is a bad, time, and..."
"No, no." She went willingly with him, pulling the door closed after them as they cleared the doorway. "It was my fault. I should have expected...never mind. It's not your fault."
Something shattered against the inside of the apartment door.
McGee and Jeanne both flinched. "Uh..." McGee managed weakly, "can I give you a ride home?"
