note: I... have nothing to say. I could grovel and fling excuse after excuse at you as to why this is so late, but I honestly have no clue. I was halfway through writing this chapter the other day when I saw how long it'd been since I updated. I promptly swore and knuckled down to try and get the creative juices flowing more smoothly than they had been previously.
This is the second-to-last chapter, guys! I'm sad that it's ending, I don't know about you. But I'm thinking of doing at least a follow-up piece to it (and possibly a sequel if I really can and people want me too, but ssh, you didn't hear that from me), so hopefully you won't miss it too much? If you miss it at all.
One final note to say THANKS for all the reviews. We breached 100, guys, that's awesome!
disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you friend has never seen it but still knows what ships you support.
listening to: Syrupsniph, by Flunk (aka that song from the beginning of Under Covers)
Day 10
She wakes a little before him, he thinks, though he can't be sure. All he knows is that his body is aching and his skin is sticking to hers, presumably from their activities the night before. Or the whole day before, when he thinks it over a bit longer.
Failing to suppress a yawn, he stretches loudly and closes his eyes once more, snuggling into his partner's rather warm body.
"Well good morning to you, too." She says, and he grins at the slight sarcasm in her tone.
Pulling back, he sends her a smile, says good morning, and plants his lips on hers. The embrace deepens until she pushes him off her and claims he needs to brush his teeth or at least eat a mint before he can kiss her again.
"That's not fair! You're not exactly fresh-breathed yourself, honey."
He relents regardless, and stands up, trudging into the bathroom and cleaning his mouth half-heartedly.
Ziva stares rather blatantly at him as he returns to bed- he is naked, after all- but he doesn't waste time mentioning it, merely kisses her instead.
000000
A knock sounds on their door, and he has to admit, the hotel have really upped their game when it comes to room service; they've arrived at their room within 15 minutes every time since the incident on their fourth day.
"Sweetie, can you answer that for me?" he asks, pulling the sheet up over his lap and returning to the book he's reading.
His partner pops her head out from the bathroom, and he grins with false sweetness. She sends him a glare but heads to the door anyway, picking up his own dress shirt on the way.
Sam bumbles about awkwardly once he sees both their states of undress, and swiftly exits once he's placed a large platter on the table. Tony is once again glad that they chose to dine in rather than head down to the hotel restaurant; something about room service just makes everything seem so much more exclusive.
"How can you manage to look so hot in a man's shirt?"
His tone in incredulous and apparently something is amusing, for Ziva clutches at her stomach and doubles-over in laughter.
"Yeah, yeah. Bring me my bacon."
"Get it yourself, my husband."
He rolls his eyes but stands, glad that the air around him is not cold otherwise that would've been a shock, and picks up his plate from the tray. Ziva kicks his naked butt as he walks back to bed, but her eyes are dark and teasing and he can only laugh.
000000
"Oh that was very nice. Remind me to give Sam an extra-big tip when we leave, yeah?"
"Mm, I shall do."
He looks down at his partner, noting how very distracted she seems. And so he reaches down and places his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up to meet her gaze.
"Hey. What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong, I just..."
He can see how much she is struggling to put her thoughts into words, and wraps his arms around her whilst planting a kiss on her nose.
"You can tell me, Ziva." He says, barely more than a whisper.
"Tony, when are we going home?" she says, sounding utterly broken. Her voice cracks and she closes her eyes tight, and suddenly he thinks maybe he understands.
What are they going to do?
"Oh, Ziva..." he trails off, no more comment necessary, and kisses her as gently as he thinks he can. "You know what?"
She looks up, not specifically asking what, but he answers her anyway.
"I love you."
She smiles and tells him the same thing.
000000
He flicks through his book again, but it's dog-eared and he's read it twice fully by now, so he sets it down and finds himself quite content to merely watch Ziva as she turns to another page in her magazine. He spares half a thought as to where she got it from, but then he remembers the big selection in the lounge downstairs, and he wonders if she's got it from there.
"You are staring, my love."
"Yeah, I am." He's in no hurry to deny it.
She shifts on the couch, resting her head on her hand as she props herself up on her elbow. Still smiling, she looks to him knowingly.
"You are thinking something."
He says that yeah, he is, and for some reason that makes her smile even more, and she asks what he is thinking about. Building up to it, he clears his throat and puts on a serious face, taking a deep breath before facing her.
"Seriously how do you look so hot in my shirt?"
She hits him over the head with the magazine and utters an Idiot under her breath.
"Yeah, I might be, but you love me all the more for it, right?" he says, sending her a bright smile.
"Perhaps. In fact I don't know, maybe it simply annoys me."
"That's low."
She falls silent once again, eyes scanning word after word, and he sits down on the floor, resting his back against the couch.
About half an hour later she closes the magazine in frustration and taps him on his back.
"Hey. You are thinking about something else. I told you- you can tell me. Please?"
He's not quite sure what to say, and instead reaches out and flicks the top button of his shirt open. Her mouth falls open in realization and even though she's caught on by now, he still feels the need to say something.
"I'm thinking that as good as that shirt looks on you, it'd look even better on the floor."
"That is cheesy. But I think I agree."
She leans forward and kisses him, hard, as he reaches down and opens another button.
000000
Eventually, they head down to the pool for a moonlit swim, worn-out but content. He finds himself pretending to be hurt at her comment of No skinny-dipping, then idly wonders, as she slips his shirt off to reveal that bikini he loves so very much, if he really is that predictable.
He's about to jump in from the side when his phone rings suddenly, and he answers it whilst watching Ziva swim a length or two and shudder at the apparently cold water. Perhaps jumping in wasn't quite such a good idea.
"What took you so long?" his boss' voice greets him, sounding rather amused, and Tony grins before spouting out a reply.
Gibbs murmurs something about Bradey and a possible situation sometime soon, and he hangs up with a "Stay safe" that the younger agent supposes takes both of them by surprise.
"Who was that?" Ziva asks as he steps down into the water.
He shakes his head and utters a noise of discontentment at the harsh, sharp temperature of the pool, but eventually grinds out an answer that it was his father. Ziva grins and paddles over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and promising to warm him up a little later.
Cookie? Tiva? ...final chapter? *sniff*