A/N: For gosgirl... =)


Later that week

On Friday, Team Gibbs arrived at Brewed Awakenings for lunch at Kate and Abby's suggestion. Gibbs appreciated the gesture and was glad they liked Ziva enough to be interested in her place. All that was true. It was also true that Abby and Kate figured it would increase the chance that Gibbs might actually go out with them this time. They were right.

Tony went along easily, but inside was feeling a little awkward. He'd been thrown off balance the other night when they'd all met Ziva. She wasn't anything like he'd expected – so much so that it hadn't even occurred to him that she was "Gibbs' new friend" when he first laid eyes on her. Then, Gibbs showed up with an alternate personality and it had taken Tony a while to catch up. He was recovering, but wasn't sure what kind of impression he'd made – and couldn't really pinpoint why it mattered so much.

Ziva was clearly pleased to see them all, though they'd arrived at one of her busy times and she didn't have a chance to join them at their table. Tony finished his sandwich first and noticed that Ziva was puttering around behind the counter by herself and that the rush seemed to have calmed. He announced that he was going to see what might be available for an afternoon snack and made his way to the counter. Ziva saw him coming and gave him an easy smile.

"May I get you something else, Tony?" she asked congenially.

"Yeah … I was, uh, thinking about dessert," he mumbled, his eyes on the glass cases holding the sweet stuff. Then he grabbed for some backbone and looked up at her. "And … could we maybe talk for a sec - ?"

She looked at him searchingly and sensed that he'd like to speak to her privately.

"Certainly," she said and called back into the kitchen for Becky to come up front.

Walking around the side of the counter, she tilted her head down the hallway and led him to her office. She didn't close the door as there wasn't much traffic back there just now. Besides, if the blue eyes that had followed them down the hallway showed up in person, she didn't want there to be any cause for misunderstanding.

Ziva removed her hat and leaned against her desk, seemingly at ease. She looked at the agent expectantly.

"Is there something on your mind, Tony?" Her guess was that he hadn't quite decided what to think of her, though she hadn't said as much to Jethro when they were talking about it the other day. She didn't attribute any malice to it; on the contrary, it simply felt like his first reaction was to protect Gibbs if necessary and she respected that.

"Great place you've got here," he started. "And those desserts look so good, it's gonna be hard to choose."

"Thank you," Ziva responded with a faint smile. "If you like chocolate, my advice is to go for the brownie."

The slight curve to her lips stayed in place as she added knowingly, "But that is not what you wanted to talk about."

"Right." Tony took a deep breath, then went straight to the real reason he had wanted a moment with her. "I was wondering if maybe we could have a do-over on the introductions from the other night," he explained somewhat hesitantly.

"A 'do-over'?" she repeated, her brows slightly gathered questioningly.

"Yeah. You know – start over," Tony explained.

Ah.

"If you think we need to," she assented with the ghost of a smile. After a pause, she held out her hand with a twinkle in her eyes. "Hello. My name is Ziva."

Relief quickly gave way to humor in his eyes just before he shook her hand.

"Tony - Tony DiNozzo," he responded. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too," she grinned.

"So, I hear you're dating my boss," Tony offered conversationally.

"You heard correctly," she smiled, "I am very happy to say."

There was a slight gap in the conversation and then Tony responded quietly.

"He is, too." When she looked at him quizzically, he clarified, "Happy."

And that, Tony realized, was why her impression of him mattered.

Her face softened, her thoughts clearly on Jethro and their relationship.

"The fact that he is means a lot to me," Tony revealed in a rare moment of seriousness and disclosure. Then an uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed look settled on his face that was sweet and funny at the same time. "But … do you have to tell him that? The Boss and me – we're tight – but we don't do the mushy stuff so much."

Ziva swallowed a grin.

"I think we can keep it between us," she said with a gleam in her eyes. "Unless he asks me directly, if course – and if he does, I'll try to play it down for you."

He looked relieved for the second time since entering her office before becoming contemplative.

"You weren't what I was expecting … and … he's different with you …" Tony revealed haltingly, his voice trailing off as his gaze slid from her.

"So, in addition to being uncertain about me, you were seeing a different side to Jethro, as well," Ziva guessed perceptively. "That must have been disconcerting at first."

Tony's relief now was almost palpable – and he began to see why Gibbs and Ziva seemed to click so well. Did she always put things together like this?

"Yeah…" he admitted. "And I guess I …" He stopped again, uncharacteristically searching for words.

"Needed a little time to process it all," she finished without judgment. "I thought you seemed a little quieter than I expected the other night; you were thinking – perhaps even a little suspiciously, hmmm?"

Tony looked slightly stunned.

"Okay, that's just scary," he declared. Then he hastened to add, "Not bad scary – Gibbs scary."

He hadn't even gotten there himself yet, but she was right. Part of what he did as the senior agent – as Gibbs' friend - was have his boss' back. That meant not necessarily trusting what he saw at first glance.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ziva said with a small smile of pleasure. Her eyes glinted with approval as she continued.

"I am glad your instinct is to ask questions and to look out for Jethro," Ziva told Tony softly. "Perhaps between the two of us we can look after him better than he tends to look after himself." Her smile was nothing but genuine.

"Deal," he agreed, holding out his hand for them to shake on it.

An alliance was born and the seeds of a friendship planted.

"Thanks for the time. We didn't get a chance to really talk after … you know …" He gestured with his hand in an attempt to finish his sentence.

"After you thought for two seconds that I might be available," she grinned, her tone putting him at ease.

"Uh, yeah … that," he admitted, clearly embarrassed. "Sor-"

She cut him off.

"No problem, Tony – and certainly nothing to break Rule 6 over," she winked.

"Wow – you've got the rules down?" He was clearly impressed.

"I am learning," she laughed. Then she wrinkled her nose pretty adorably as she added, "But there are a lot. Personally, I only have three."

"You have your own rules?" Tony asked in surprise. God, she really was perfect for Gibbs.

Ziva nodded, then made an admission of her own.

"However, I seem to have trouble remembering two of them when your boss is around, so perhaps I should start saying I only have one," she said dryly. "What do you think, Jethro?"

Nothing in Ziva's eyes or her stance had given away that she knew he'd arrived, but clearly she had sensed him. Ziva and Tony both looked over to see Gibbs leaning casually in the doorway.

"Since I'm the only exception to both those rules, you can keep 'em," he bantered, a banked twinkle in his eye for her. Then his eyes settled on his agent, considering. "You trying to make time with my girl again, DiNozzo?"

"No way, Boss," Tony assured him. "We were just …" His voice trailed off.

"Talking," Ziva stepped in to complete the thought. "Some decisions take some conversation, including what might make the perfect afternoon snack. My suggestion was the brownie."

Tony threw her a grateful look.

Ziva picked up the phone on her desk and pressed the intercom for the front counter.

"Agent DiNozzo is on his way up to choose some desserts," Ziva advised Becky when she answered. "It's on the house."

"Choose what you like," Ziva told Tony as she put the phone down, smiling at the way his eyes lit up, "for the others, too. Becky will take care of you."

"Thanks, Ziva," Tony said casually, starting to turn away again. Then he turned back and added with feeling, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she responded with a warm, small smile.

"Whadya want from the dessert case, Boss?" Tony asked on his way past Gibbs.

"I'm fine, DiNozzo," the older man shrugged off the question.

"I have an apple pie cooling in the kitchen. Ask Becky to cut a piece of that for him," Ziva suggested, throwing a twinkling, meaningful look at Jethro. He couldn't help the tiny grin that tugged at his lips.

"You heard the lady," he nudged his agent, gesturing with his head for Tony to keep moving.

When they were alone, Gibbs walked further into the office and up to his lover.

"You know if you feed him, he'll keep coming back," Gibbs pointed out knowingly, though there was humor lighting the back of his eyes.

"Good," Ziva declared, standing up straight and reaching for him. "That should increase my chances of keeping you around."

"Your chances of that are already off the charts," he told her.

Her eyes lit with affectionate pleasure.

"Everything okay?" he asked, placing his hands on her hips.

"Mhm," she assured him, wrapping her arms around his chest under his jacket to rub her hands up and down that long back.

"That was about more than dessert," he noted shrewdly, searching her face.

"Yes, it was," she admitted, reaching up on tip-toe to plant a brief kiss on his lips. "He just wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings from the other night. I thought it was very sweet."

"DiNozzo's a thinker … sometimes he has to figure things out before he's on board," Gibbs probed obliquely when she didn't elaborate. Some people missed that in Tony, but she wouldn't have.

"Sounds like you know your team, Special Agent Gibbs," Ziva said warmly with a curve to her lips.

"He upset you?" Gibbs asked pointedly.

"Not in the least," she reassured him. "In fact, I think he just might like me - and I fully appreciate the fact that he worries about you, looks out for you in his own way."

Gibbs gave her a faint a smile.

"Yeah, he does," he acknowledged.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and looked her over admiringly.

"See you tonight after work?" he confirmed hopefully, changing the subject.

"Most definitely," she breathed, as their mouths came together for a long, deep kiss. They were careful to keep the fire banked, but both their pulses were beating a little faster when their lips parted. "I have missed you the last few nights."

"Same here," he husked, ghosting his lips along her jaw. "Door won't be locked, so just come on in."

"Do you make that invitation to everyone?" she teased.

"Only the people I care about," he answered honestly, warmly, pulling back to look her in the eyes.

Her smile was beautiful, then turned provocative.

"Perhaps we should lock it after I get there, though," she suggested in a sultry tone. "If I keep thinking about you this afternoon the way I've been thinking of you all morning, we will be lucky to make it out of the front hall before I jump you."

"Don't feel like we need to on my account," he informed her heatedly, pressing her into him as his eyes twinkled at her.

Her delighted laugh drew an answering grin from him. They were still grinning as they shared one last kiss. Turning together, they walked down the hallway with his arm draped over her shoulders and her arm around his waist. Tony was still deliberating over his last choice, trying to decide between two items.

"Move it, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered as he moved past Tony. "When she said choose what you want, she didn't mean take the whole damn case."

Ziva stopped walking, which brought Jethro to a halt, as well. She gave an almost imperceptible nod to Becky, which the younger woman interpreted correctly. Without further ado, she picked up the iced brownie Tony had been dithering over and added it to the box that already contained Jethro's pie and a few other things.

"Hey, I –" Tony started to protest, then halted abruptly as Becky moved on to scoop up the other choice that had caught his eye, as well: a couple of large, soft, mouthwatering chocolate chip cookies.

Tony looked at Ziva questioningly.

"Sometimes, if we are lucky, we get to have exactly what we want." She followed that with a look for her lover that said she wasn't just talking about desserts.

That half-smile of his that she could just lick off his face tugged up one side of Gibbs' mouth. He squeezed her in a little closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead as she wrapped her other arm around the front of his waist to hug him in return.

For once, Tony didn't have a sarcastic comment about the display of affection; inside, he was just glad for his boss. He didn't comment on that either, though and got the others moving by announcing, "Follow me, people; I've got the good stuff." He held up the dessert box triumphantly. "Thanks, Ziva."

"Anytime," she returned with a warm smile.

Ziva and the others spoke briefly, then everyone headed back to work.


Ziva and Gibbs settled into a routine that involved her staying at his place every Friday night through Monday morning if he wasn't working. He always went into the coffee shop with her on Mondays, driving her or following her there if she had driven herself to his house.

She promoted one of her other staff to evening manager so that she didn't have to work until close most nights, including Friday. Either Gibbs or Ziva would grab take-out on the way home for Friday night and they stayed in, winding down from the week and enjoying each other's company.

They started going to the local farmer's market most Saturday mornings after waking up happily in each other's arms. Ziva had gone for years before those mornings were filled with her business. Now that Tali took care of that on the weekends, she and Jethro had begun going. Gibbs was surprised to find that he enjoyed tagging along with her as she purchased fresh foods and spoke to different vendors. Sometimes she was looking for ingredients or recipes to use at the shop and sometimes she purchased food for herself or for them, depending on what was on their menu for the weekend.

As time went on, part of Sunday was usually spent over at her uncle's dojo where Ziva and her cousin Maayan were teaching Jethro krav maga. He was a quick study, of course, and already familiar with some of the techniques. Given that this was not a real life and death situation, Gibbs found himself holding back at first until Ziva and Maayan made it clear with their own moves that that they expected more. No one got hurt and they managed to get in a good workout and have fun in the process.

They even spent time together in his basement. Sometimes he showed her how to do something he was working on because she was interested; other times, she looked through magazines or cookbooks for new recipes or read a book while he worked with the wood, a comfortable silence between them.

There were also times she sensed he needed to be down there by himself and she shooed him off, staying upstairs to cook or read or experiment with a new recipe. He loved that, as it filled the house with a delicious aroma and he always got the first bite of whatever it was. He appreciated even more that she didn't seem to have a problem with the fact that sometimes he needed to be by himself to shake off the lingering effects of a case or to think about something that was on his mind.

Team Gibbs got into the habit of dropping in at Brewed Awakenings for lunch at least once a week. If they were buried in a case, Ziva took it upon herself to send over food.

Things went along easily, happily for the next couple of months. Ziva took Jethro to meet her mother. She loved how adorably nervous he obviously was. However, he and her mother had a mutual admiration society going on before the end of the first course of the dinner Mrs. David had insisted on making for them.

They decided to go away for a long weekend together. Jethro made all the arrangements and was very mysterious about it.

The weekend before they were set to leave, they had their first real disagreement.

Gibbs' father, Jackson, had dropped into NCIS unexpectedly that Friday morning, intending to stay the weekend with Jethro. He hadn't called ahead because he hadn't wanted Leroy to come up with a reason he shouldn't come, as he usually did. They didn't always get on, but Jackson kept hoping that would improve – when he wasn't being as hard-headed as his son about something, that is.

The team had met Jackson when a case had taken them to Gibbs' hometown of Stillwater and were happy to see him again. Their leader, however, was annoyed and not just because he and his dad didn't have an easy relationship. He had a feeling Ziva wasn't going to want to sleep over with his father in the house and he didn't like the thought of that, not one little bit.

He pulled the older man over by the large windows in the bullpen and said he wished he'd known he was coming. When Jackson pushed him persistently as to why, Jethro eventually admitted he usually had company on the weekends these days.

"This company have a name?" his dad asked curiously.

When Gibbs delayed too long in answering, DiNozzo coughed, "Ziva."

Two pairs of blue eyes fixed on him, one pair twinkling in amusement, the other sending a nonverbal head slap.

Jackson looked back at his son. "Is there a pretty lady to go with that pretty name?"

Again, Jethro didn't answer right away.

"Pretty?" Tony poked his nose in to answer incredulously. "Try su-MOKIN' hot."

Gibbs threw him another hard look.

"Shutting up, Boss," Tony said, burying his head in his work.

"You know, Gibbs, it's almost time for your mid-morning coffee run," Kate said brightly. "Why don't you take your dad along?" She gave the men an innocent smile, but it didn't fool her boss one bit.

Jethro stared at her, but Kate refused to be cowed by his expression. With a silent sigh, he headed to the elevator. When his dad didn't move, he looked back.

"Well, are ya comin'?" he asked almost exasperatedly.

Kate gave Jackson a reassuring wink and tilted her head toward the elevator. The two men rode down in silence, then headed to Brewed Awakenings. Jethro shortened his usual lengthy stride to accommodate his father's slower one. They walked mostly in silence. Jackson had learned long ago that you couldn't push Leroy to talk, especially when he was stewing about something.

When they got to the coffee shop, Gibbs held the door for his dad to go in first. Ziva was behind the counter and looked up. Her smile was pure pleasure as her eyes settled on Jethro, which did not go unnoticed by the elder Gibbs.

"Good morning," she said to her lover, her eyes full of promise for tonight.

"Well, you must be Ziva," Jackson observed as he reached the counter.

Ziva looked at him in surprise, then was caught by a carbon copy of the same blue eyes that she could cheerfully drown in.

"And with those eyes, you must be related to Jethro," she smiled, holding out her hand. "Ziva David."

"Jackson Gibbs," he returned, giving her hand a squeeze.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. I did not know you were coming into town," Ziva observed, glancing at the younger Gibbs.

"You're not the only one," Jethro groused under his breath. Both of the others heard – and ignored - him.

Ziva automatically prepared Jethro's usual coffee and guessed that Jackson was similar in his taste for plain, black coffee. She was right. She gave him a cup of her special brew and his eyes widened in appreciation.

"Wow – what did you do to this?" he asked.

"That is confidential – and do not even try to get the answer out of Jethro," she playfully directed the older man with narrowed eyes. "He is sworn to secrecy."

Jethro accepted his own coffee from her and then flicked his eyes toward her office purposefully before returning them to Ziva. "Got a minute?"

"For you? Always," she returned softly.

Looking at the older man with a smile, Ziva suggested, "Why don't you have a seat, Mr. Gibbs? I will have Becky bring you out a muffin. I am trying out another new recipe and I would love your opinion."

The older man invited her to call him by his first name and then happily complied. Ziva quickly made the arrangements with her staff. Jackson watched the couple walk down the hall, Jethro's hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

Once they got to her office, he shut the door behind them and put his coffee down. She tossed her ball cap onto her desk and turned into his arms. He kissed her brainless, trying to increase his chances of getting her to still come over for the weekend.

"Mmmm …" Ziva said as their mouths pulled apart. "What was that for?"

"Just a preview of tonight," he said, nuzzling her neck for several delicious moments. "By the way, guess my dad is staying with us for the weekend."

She stiffened. "You mean he is staying with you for the weekend. I will not be."

"Ziva – " Jethro started to protest.

"No," Ziva said firmly, stepping out of his arms. "It would not be right."

"He already knows you stay with me on the weekends," Jethro told her, but that didn't have the intended effect.

"When did he learn that?" she asked.

"Today," he admitted.

"And when did you tell him we are dating?" she asked.

"Today," he all but mumbled.

"So all he knows about me is that I sleep with his son on the weekends," she said in a tone that was way too neutral for his liking.

"That's not all," Jethro said defensively.

She arched her brows at him in question.

This was really not going the way he wanted it to, so he forced himself to take a breath and concentrate on her – not on his frustration with his dad and the situation.

He stepped into her again, closing the small amount of distance she'd put between them. He rested his forehead on hers.

"He knows you own a coffee house," he pointed out. She rolled her eyes at him. He bit back a grin. His voice dropped to that level that never failed to send shivers down her spine. "And that you're beautiful." He dipped his head so the tip of his tongue could come out to taste that one certain sensitive spot on her neck.

The only response she could make was a strangled gasp.

He rested his cheek against her hair.

"Please, Ziva," he requested softly.

"Jethro-" He knew she was about to continue to refuse, so he stopped her with his lips, capturing hers in a kiss that went on forever.

"I want you with me," he said softly when he let her up for air, satisfied to note that her eyes were more than a little bit dazed.

"I want to be with you," she admitted, "but I just do not feel right sleeping with you with your father under the same roof."

"Dammit, Ziva -" She stiffened and pulled as far away as her small office would allow.

"You are mad at me," she observed quietly, turning her back so he couldn't see her face.

He gave a deep internal sigh. No, he wasn't mad at her. But in his usual fashion, he was mangling the conversation.

He followed her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he spoke against her hair.

"Not mad at you," he said. "Just … frustrated – in more ways than one."

She could hear his wry smile in his tone at the end of his explanation and she softened.

"And you think I am not?" she asked with feeling, turning to face him.

This time he released an audible sigh and she finally relaxed against him again, burying her face in his neck.

"I cannot help who I am, Jethro," she said.

"Wouldn't want you to change a thing," he assured her, running his hands up and down her back. "Just wish …"

"Me, too," she whispered.

He tilted her chin up and they shared another deep, meaningful kiss.

"Can I see you later for a while?" he asked hopefully.

"Why don't you spend some time with your father and I'll catch up on some things around here," she suggested, hiding her regret at the change of plans.

His disappointment showed in his eyes, nearly causing her to change her mind. Gibbs finally resigned himself to the fact that she wasn't coming over later, but he wasn't happy about it. He cupped her jaw in his hand.

"I'll pick you up for the market in the morning, okay?" His eyes roamed her lovely face as he asked.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her brows drawn together a bit. "What about your father?"

Gibbs snorted. "He can -"

"Jethro." She cut him off with a word.

He shrugged. "I don't care what he does."

"He could come along," she suggested, "if he wants."

She knew enough about Jethro's relationship with Jackson to know that it was strained at best, but she wasn't comfortable with blatantly leaving the man out of their plans when he'd just driven four hours to visit his son.

Gibbs sighed again, then gave a slight version of his characteristic smile. "I'll ask him."

Ziva slid her arms up around his neck and looked up at him. "I will miss you," she admitted huskily.

"Missing you already," he returned.

After another long, heartfelt kiss, they reluctantly pulled apart.

"Guess I'd better let you get back to work," he observed, though his tone telegraphed that that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"And you should get back to your father," she added, "and to work."

"I'll call you later," he said.

She smiled and pressed one more quick kiss to his lips. "Just think, next weekend we will have four whole days to ourselves."

They'd both arranged to be off Friday and Monday, taking a long weekend for the getaway they'd planned. Tali would put in extra hours and Ziva's mom was also helping out.

"Can't wait," he said warmly, smoothing his thumb over her cheek.

She hugged him tightly and burrowed her face into his neck, silently communicating that she couldn't either.

They left Ziva's office and returned to Jackson. The old man beamed at Ziva.

"Now, that was the best muffin I've ever tasted," he declared. "That fruit in the middle was delicious."

"I am glad you liked it," Ziva said with a smile. "Perhaps I will add that one to the menu."

The two men made to leave.

"We'll be seeing you later, I hope?" Jackson asked Ziva, turning it into a question.

"Not tonight," Ziva said. "But perhaps you'd like to come with us to the farmers' market in the morning?"

Surprise crossed Jackson's eyes though he quickly squelched it. He had trouble believing his son went to the farmers' market.

"You two don't need an old man in your way," he demurred.

"You will not be in the way," Ziva said firmly.

"Well, okay then," Jackson agreed, secretly happy. "If you're sure."

With goodbyes all around and a squeeze from Jethro's hand to Ziva's, the two men were out the door.


After work, Gibbs was thankful that Ducky, Abby and Kate organized the team into grabbing dinner together in celebration of Jackson's visit. He really didn't want to be alone with his father yet, as his mood was still surly – especially after he'd called Ziva to see if she'd join them for dinner, but she'd declined, citing work. In reality, she just thought it would be even harder to skip sleeping at his house tonight if she saw him again, but she didn't tell him that.

At midnight that night, Gibbs sat on his bed holding his cell phone, the light from the lamp on his bedside table casting a soft glow. He'd talked to Ziva earlier after she'd gotten home from work and his dad was in bed, but it hadn't been enough. He wanted to be with her, wanted her cuddled up next to him while they slept. He just needed to decide on the best plan to make that happen.

Suddenly his phone rang. He looked at the screen. Ziva. With a little smile he answered immediately.

"Hey," he said softly.

"I am coming in, so do not shoot me or anything," she said almost tersely. Then, taking a page out of his book, she hung up without saying goodbye.

He looked at the phone in surprise, then heard a very faint noise downstairs that told him she had come in the house. He'd given her a key, but still didn't lock his door except on the nights she stayed with him.

His heart started beating a little faster and he couldn't help that his smile grew wider.

The stairs squeaked in places so he could hear her getting closer. Quietly, Ziva opened his bedroom door and closed it behind her, pressing the lock in on the door handle. She dropped her overnight bag inaudibly to the floor and removed the hoodie and soft yoga pants that she'd pulled on over her soft cotton jammies that consisted of a sky blue camisole and boy shorts in a matching plaid.

Without a word – without even looking at him – she slipped into her side of the bed. When had it become her side exactly? she wondered. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she closed her eyes as though she were going immediately to sleep.

"You win," she groused, not opening her eyes.

His half-smirk tucked up one side of his lips. He shucked off the sweats he'd pulled on and slid under the covers beside her. Her traitorous body kept inching over until it was just touching his. Gibbs turned on his side and propped his head on his hand, staring at her silently.

"What?" she asked, still without opening her eyes.

"Just trying to figure out who you're mad at," he told her, "me or yourself."

"Myself," she said exasperatedly, tossing her hands into the air for emphasis, letting them fall again to the bedspread. She finally opened her eyes to stare up at the ceiling. He waited her out until she continued.

"I should be able to sleep without you, Jethro," she explained in a frustrated voice.

"You can," he assured her. "You do it every Monday through Thursday."

She mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that?" he asked, laying his hand on her belly and rubbing gentle circles there.

"Not very well," she repeated, just barely above a murmur.

To hide his grin, he bent his head to nuzzle her neck.

"Huh. You know what that means," he said purposefully.

"That I am weak," she muttered. The self-disgust in her tone as she emphasized the last word nearly had him laughing out loud.

"Nope – means we should sleep together more often," he suggested warmly, "especially since I sleep better with you, too."

She started to melt and rolled a little more toward him. Then she remembered the other reason she was irritated with herself and stopped.

"Well, it certainly appears you were doing just fine here without me tonight," Ziva said in a voice that was just small enough to make her even madder at herself.

"Did I sound sleepy when I answered the phone?" he asked her, almost conversationally.

She thought back. "No," she replied, drawing the word out slowly.

"How long did it take me to answer?" His right hand slid over to her hip and nudged her closer to him.

"Not even a whole ring," she realized out loud. She looked up at him in some confusion, her brain clearly engaged in trying to figure out where he was going with this.

"That's because I was holding it when you called," he informed her, "trying to decide between calling you to let me in your first floor security door or calling McGee to get me past it so you couldn't leave me outside."

His eyes took on a definite twinkle. Gibbs leaned down and brushed his nose against hers.

"Was leanin' toward McGee," he revealed, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth.

Her expressive eyes showed surprise, quickly followed by disbelief warring with delight. She gave up all pretense of trying to keep some space between them and rolled completely against him.

"You are not serious," she returned, though her body was molding to his like it completely believed him – and was secretly thrilled.

His hand had slid around to her lower back as she turned into him and he urged her even closer with it. He bent his head and took her mouth in a blazing, heart-pounding kiss.

"That feel serious enough for you?" he murmured when he lifted his head a little.

"Mmmm …" she breathed. She couldn't even call him on his decidedly male look of satisfaction that he had reduced her to barely-coherent noises.

She pulled his lips back down to hers and returned the favor.

The heat built nicely between them, coiling deliciously in their stomachs and spiraling out from there. Hands slid under shirts and relished the feel of bare skin.

Then Ziva remembered why she'd intended not to sleep here tonight.

"Um, Jethro?" she managed, even though the feel of his lips nibbling across the tops of her breasts was making it really hard to think.

"Mmmm…?" he answered, completely enthralled with the way she felt, tasted.

She managed to tug his head up, but lost track of her thoughts again when he kissed her.

Then the sound of someone going into the bathroom down the hall brought her crashing back to reality. She pushed against his chest until he rose up enough that she could see his face.

"Jethro…" she repeated and cupped his face to look into his eyes … and promptly got distracted. She adored his eyes. And his face. And everything else about him.

A door closed quietly and she was able to finally finish her thought.

"I am not sure I can relax enough to … you know," she whispered, regret plainly evident through the shyness in her tone.

He grinned inwardly. She couldn't even say the word sex with his father in the house.

"Bet I could make you wanna," he murmured provocatively, nuzzling her throat.

She moaned softly.

"I know you could," she replied huskily. "But…" She looked up at him pleadingly, though she honestly couldn't say if she really wanted him to back off or try to change her mind.

He knew all that, but didn't press her.

With a gentle smile he pulled his hand out from under her shirt and smoothed it down her back.

"Okay," he relented, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We'll sleep."

He rolled over and turned out the light, staying on his back. He pulled her close so that her head was lying on his shoulder, her left hand resting on his chest.

Dropping a kiss to her head he said, "Just glad you're here."

He felt her lips curve in a smile as he closed his eyes.

"Me, too" she said softly. Then she added wryly, "Though I have no idea how I am going to face your father in the morning."

"Don't worry," he directed.

"Goodnight," she murmured on a sigh, closing her own eyes.

"'Night," he answered.

She really did try to go to sleep. Really. But the feel of him … the smell of him … and that chest … Her hand started wandering over it, then her cheek rubbed against it. Needing to feel his skin again, she slipped under his navy blue t-shirt and smoothed her hand over his stomach then up to run her fingers through the smattering of hair on his chest.

The man was very hard to resist … and, for the life of her, she suddenly couldn't remember why she'd wanted to try.

"Jethro?"

"Hmmm?" he asked, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her upper arm.

She rolled on top of him, causing him to open his eyes.

"Relax me," she murmured into his ear in a sultry voice.

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin when she added one modifier to her command.

"Quietly."


A/N continued: Yet another THANKS to iyimgrace for the yummy new avatar. HUGS, my friend! :)