Rating M for language and content

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to NCIS, I own nothing.

Pairing: Ziva D./ Tony D.

Thank you all for your interest and input, and most importantly, thank you so much for reading, and enjoy. X

WS

Tony woke up because he had a bizarre feeling creeping into his subconscious that he was being watched. He also felt severe disorientation. For a moment he thought he was at home; in his childhood bedroom. It was only after he had focused his eyes properly that the pieces of the puzzle came together.

Ziva was lying next to him on the bed, watching him with those big brown eyes.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"I thought you were going to sleep all day."

"What time is it?"

"16:30."

"Wow, sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that."

"You are tired."

"Yes, well, certain confessions seemed to have taken it out of me," he smiled. "Or maybe I have severe head trauma from your punch," he quickly added and touched his eye to see it was still there.

"I believe I still owe you my...confession," she said quietly.

"Careful, Ziva, that might knock me out for good," he joked, but she didn't laugh, she simply smiled, and then her eyes spoke first, but didn't they always?

"I am in love with you, Tony," she stated, stopping suddenly, and he wondered if she was already wishing she could take it back. "I feel like I am going crazy."

"Ah, Ziva. It's not love if it's not crazy," he told her.

"What movie is that from?"

"That's from the Anthony DiNozzo Junior school of crazy love."

"You have a lot of experience with this? Tony?" she asked, and he wondered if it was at all possible Ziva David was in the process of fishing for compliments.

"I can confirm, Ziv-ah, that I have never felt this crazy."

She laughed. "So now what do we do?"

"Now, since we have discussed all necessary...formalities of our...relationship, I believe we should go out and have dinner and see what might happen."

She looked at him through half-closed eyes, like she was trying to zoom in on what was going on in his head.

"Sunset is at 19:00," she told him, and he laughed.

"You know, sweet-cheeks, the thing I love about you the most is your efficiency."

She playfully slapped his arm. "Whatever. Tony."

"Yeah, you're right, I'm a dirty liar, it's your cute ass."

"Tony!"

"Come on, you love it," he laughed and rolled over to grab her and hold her. Her hair smelled freshly washed and she was warm and soft and his. He kissed her naked shoulder. "I can still taste the sun on your skin," he told her for the second time in as many days. It meant nothing. And it meant everything.

x x x

After dinner and attending the traditional sunset celebration in Mallory Square, Tony and Ziva strolled through the old town.

"You know, Tony, this place is a tourist trap," she observed after they had passed the tenth t-shirt and shell necklace shop.

He laughed and took her hand. "But it's great. I think this is one of the most exciting towns in the whole of the US."

"Nothing happens. Tony. Tourists come, they eat Key Lime Pie, they leave."

"Ah, and that's where you're wrong. You have to look underneath the façade. It's the end of the line down here. Cuba is closer than Miami. Every person who comes here has a story about what brought them here," Tony told her.

"What is your story?"

"Haha. You."

She chuckled and swung his arm back and forth. "Tell it," she asked of him.

"Okay," Tony cleared his throat like he wanted to burst into song. "Once upon a time I met this crazy, crazy woman. She had crazy, crazy hair, and was just real crazy. God, Ziva, you'd hate her. Real serious type, too, you know. And she was dangerous. Full time ninja. And no matter how funny my jokes were, and my jokes are pretty damn funny, she never laughed, never smiled. She hated me."

"She did not hate you. Tony," Ziva laughed.

"Shut up, it's my story," he elbowed her gently.

"Okay, go on. So, she hated you."

"Yes, she did until this one day when we were sent on a very special very secret mission."

"Oh?" Ziva's eyes lit up.

"She had this crazy idea, you know with her being crazy and all, that we should really get into it, and next thing I knew her dress came off, and she was all over me, wearing nothing but a pair of sexy heels."

"That is NOT what happened," she laughed.

"It is EXACTLY what happened, but anyway, one thing lead to another, and I must have left such an impression on her that she never looked at me the same again." He took a deep breath, a dramatic pause. "But then she went back to hating me. Personally, I think she was afraid of her love for me, she's crazy like that, you know."

"You keep telling yourself that. Tony," she chuckled. "And then what happened."

"Then things got out of hand, and before I knew what I was doing I'd ask her to come to Key West with me where I ended up giving her... her greatest orgasm ever...and to thank me, she punched me in the face."

By this time in the story Ziva was laughing so hard, he feared they would have a repeat episode of her hickups.

"Poor Tony," she finally said and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I know, poor me. And that's my story."

"And how is is going to end? Tony?" she asked through those beautiful eyes.

"Well, let's just say that really, there is only one acceptable ending, but before that I fear there might be more pain and suffering," he contemplated in a dramatic voice that made her laugh again.

They had reached the side entrance to Sloppy Joe's and Tony skilfully walked her out of the way of people traffic and backed her up against a wall.

"See this eye?" he asked her and pointed to his good eye. She nodded. "My boss is probably going to punch me right here. He's a very strict man. Lots of rules."

She pulled a pained face. "Tony..." she started, but he put his finger over her lips. "But! It doesn't matter. Because I got the girl."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.

"And now let me buy you a drink at Ernest Hemingway's favorite bar. I know it's not his house, but it's...historical." He took her hand again and walked her towards the open door. "Oh, one thing: since you're a foreigner, what you're about to see might be a bit strange, and my word of advice is not to take anything too seriously."

He could see question marks in her eyeballs, but he figured it was like getting into cold water; best jump straight in.

The place was as busy as he remembered it. A band was on stage, the bar was packed and it was loud. Tony took a deep breath. "Ahhhh, Key West. This is what it's all about."

They got drinks and found a place to sit. It was still early for Sloppy Joe's, and the crowd wasn't yet going completely wild.

Tony watched Ziva with amusement as she was pulling all sorts of faces; everything from bewilderment to disbelief, listening to the band singing one offensive song after the other.

"Americans are...weird," she quickly concluded, and he could have kissed her pretty mouth, but laughed instead, and got another round from the bar.

One or two drinks too many later, they eventually decided to call it a night. The room was spinning slightly as he lead her towards the exit.

"I think we should have a little dance first," he suggested eagerly.

"Tony. I do not dance."

"Only because you hate having fun," he teased, hoping it might change her mind.

"I do not hate having fun, but dancing is not fun. Not every girl likes to dance."

"Come on, just this once. It'll be over before you know it. And listen, it's our song."

"Tony. We do not have a song."

"This can be it," he suggested, and earned himself another friendly, or maybe not so friendly, slap on the arm.

"This?" she asked and pointed to the band. "This is nobody's song. Tony."

He couldn't help himself, he had to pull her into his arms and make her stand there like they were dancing. In the end she offered surprisingly little resistance.

"It's a Jimmy Buffett song, Ziva. So fitting." He watched her make out the words, and waited for her reaction. She only got it when most of the crowd joined into the chorus: "Why don't we get drunk and screw?" she repeated. "Tony," she laughed, and looked outraged, which was cute to him. "It is an awful song, and really, Tony, this is nobody's song."

"It's Key West, sweet-cheeks, it's everybody's song," he said and danced her to the exit.

They didn't make it back to the hotel without stopping for Ziva to get the biggest portion of take-away ice cream he'd ever seen. It took her ten minutes to decide what flavors she wanted, too, and all he could think about was her out of her dress, and how her indecisiveness wasn't exactly helping him achieve his goal fast enough.

Finally, finally, they got to their room.

"I have to say, Tony, the food here is so good. Everything I have had has been delicious," she said and put another big spoon-full in her mouth. Tony fumbled with the key card. "You're delicious," he told her yet again.

"Are you going to keep saying that?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything at the moment," he fiddled with the mechanism, but the door wouldn't budge. "All I know is that your dress is coming off. As soon as I get this door to open." And if it was the last thing I'm going to do, he thought, and contemplated just kicking it. Finally, the lock snapped open, and he almost flew into the room. Ziva smirked and ate some more ice cream.

"So now what? Tony?" she asked him. He closed the distance between them and didn't wait to kiss her on the mouth. Hard. She tasted of vanilla ice cream and the sensation of hot and cold made him feel like he had popping candy in his brain.

"Bed. Now," he told her.

"But I am still eating this," she protested.

"You're done," he decided and took the cup out of her hands.

Ziva got onto the bed and sat there. Her dress was a total mindfuck. Whitest white against her golden skin, short, and sweet. As misleading as her innocent smile.

"You want to know a secret, Tony?" she asked and played with her hair.

"You're not real?" he guessed. Please, don't let that be it, he thought.

"I am not wearing any underwear," she said frankly. This revelation caught him mid ice cream intake, and he almost chocked.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I lie about that?" she shrugged.

"Why indeed, Miss David," he sat on the edge of the bed and slowly ran his hand up her calf, her knee, her thigh, and up.

"Damn you," he whispered, and she smiled wickedly.

He pushed up her dress so he could spread her legs. He could see in her eyes, that she had already worked out what he was about to do, and he couldn't wait another moment. He took another big spoon full of ice cream into his mouth, and without much of an overture, he went down on her.

"Fuck," was the only thing she said, and her body was on fire. Her hands were on his head, in his hair, and he couldn't get enough of her. He wanted nothing but to sink into her, to possess her, to have her die in his arms over and over again until nothing remained but her taste on his lips.

"Tony, please fuck me, I want you to fuck me," she told him when she couldn't take any more, and he wasn't strong enough to not grant her this. His clothes came off in seconds, and he was on her. He thrust into her, but it was apparent that she was too worked up to just lie there and take it, and before he knew it, she was on top of him, fucking him so hard he knew he wasn't going to last another minute. Luckily neither did she, and so he simply let go, too.

Afterwards, he wouldn't let her get away, but held onto her tight. He already felt like he was drifting off.

"Ziva," he asked her quietly, his voice heavy with sleep.

"What?"

"In your fantasy when I come over and we do what we just did..."

"What about it?"

"Do I ever spend the night?"

"Always," she told him, and it was everything he needed to know.