We made it to 100 reviews! Thank you to girlskickass and doeboymomma for remembering the name of the hotel. I am amazed by their cavernous knowledge of NCIS and I think that you should all be too.
Tony stopped at the traffic light and brought a red satin blindfold from his pocket.
Ziva shook her head, laughing. 'I'm not putting that on,' she insisted.
Tony held it out. 'Yes, you are,' he told her firmly.
She eyed him curiously but, narrowing her eyes, she took it from him. Turning her head away from him, she pulled it down, scrunching up her hair in the process.
He helped her, tugging her hair free.
'Where did you get this?' she asked, referring to the lusty colour and seductive fabric.
He blushed. 'I once had a girlfriend who was into...' He shook his head ruefully at the kinky memory.
Ziva pulled a face. 'You washed it since, right?'
'Of course,' he promised truthfully.
She looked unconvinced but left the blindfold covering her eyes.
The traffic light changed and Tony continued the drive, turning into a side road and doing a U-turn, driving in the opposite direction to confuse Ziva.
At what seemed like an age to blinded Ziva, Tony stopped the car.
'Can I take it off?' she asked as patiently as she could manage.
'Not yet.' He hurried round to her side of the car and helped her out of the door.
'Who said that chivalry was dead?' she said, deadpan.
He led her through the glass doors into the reception foyer, guiding her towards a chair where he sat her down before walking up to the desk. 'I was here about half an hour ago,' he told the new receptionist. 'I asked to see Room 1022.'
The receptionist nodded and pressed a bell, calling a concierge. She repeated Tony's request. The man nodded and took a key off the rack of hooks behind the desk, gesturing for Tony to follow him.
'Wait a sec,' Tony told him, returning to get Ziva.
The concierge raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Tony helped Ziva up the stairs, insisting on lifting her leg despite her protestations that she was perfectly capable of walking up stairs on her own.
He led her down the hall and stopped outside the door before removing her blindfold.
She frowned at the nondescript door before letting out a squeal of recognition. 'Tony!' She flung her arms around his neck. 'Tony! This is where we went...' She stopped, remembering the presence of the concierge.
Tony nodded at the man who unlocked the door. Ziva pulled away from Tony and walked, heading straight for the balcony.
Tony turned to the concierge and tipped him. 'We'll be down in a minute to book this room so could you save it for us?' Tony shut the door behind the man and turned back to Ziva.
'So, what do you think?' he asked.
She pushed the curtain aside and eyed him. 'It's alright, I guess,' she replied, revelling in the sense of déjà vu.
She ran lightly over to him and pressed her face against hers. 'I love you,' she whispered, pulling him into a hug.
Tony's eyes widened and he stiffened.
Ziva grimaced at her slip, her chin resting on his shoulder still. Thinking fast, she stepped away and sat down on the bed.
'It's very nice,' she remarked casually, trying to pass the comment off as insignificant.
Tony nodded slowly, wondering how to approach the delicate situation.
'We had such fun here,' she reminisced.
His eyes lit up and he lunged forward, grabbing the CD player remote. He pressed 'play' and threw himself onto the bed, landing next to her and making the mattress bounce. Ziva clutched at his jacket lapel to stop herself falling off the bed, glad that her confession had been momentarily forgotten. She needed longer to consider her true feelings before she confided in Tony. She giggled and rested her head on Tony's chest, staring up at the white ceiling.
Their marriage was temporary, to be ended once her father stopped pursuing her. She had allowed this to start, knowing full well that it would be the ultimate test of her self-control. She couldn't allow herself to fall head over heels for Tony while they were keeping the pretence up. Because that was all it was: an act. None of it was real; not the marriage, not the sex, not the romantic gestures, and definitely not the overwhelming feelings. Even as she thought it, it sounded like a feeble, transparent lie.
Tony glanced down at her, careful not to displace her. He was confused and disorientated, uncertain if she had even just told him that she loved him or not. The moment had been glossed over so fast and effectively that he found himself hugging her to him, unsure of her feelings for him, unsure of his own feelings for her.
Their marriage was temporary, happening only to keep her in America. But, why did he volunteer himself? Why had she asked him? She couldn't have chosen Ray; she could have picked any straight man off the street and either charmed, persuaded or frightened him into proposing. He sighed, remembering that it had been Vance who had asked him, not Ziva. She hadn't even wanted to start this ball rolling.
'We should go back down.' His voice seemed to come from someone else's mouth: someone who was in control of their emotions and was serenely calm. Tony was none of these.
'Yeah,' Ziva agreed, sitting up and straightening her dress. Perhaps it had been a bad wardrobe choice.
They walked down the stairs in complete silence, stopping at the front desk in symphony.
The receptionist waved her hand at them to tell them that she was just coming and picked up the ringing phone. 'Barclay Hotel, how may I help?'
Tony glanced over at Ziva, wondering whether he should say something to start the inevitable conversation. Things like that just couldn't be ignored. They would have to face up to their feelings at some point and, judging by her glassy expression and clamped lips, she was not going to initiate the discussion. This was perfectly fair, Tony mused, since she had been the first one to express the elephant in the room.
Ziva kept her gaze firmly focussed on the glass counter top, studying her reflection religiously. Anything to stop her looking at Tony. She could feel his eyes burning into her and she fought the urge to snap at him. Instead, she settled for cursing herself inwardly.
'How may I help?' the receptionist asked politely, freeing them from their insufferable silence.
'I'd like to book Room 1022 for tonight, please,' Tony requested.
He relayed all his details to her, handed over his credit card and signed the receipt, all the time wondering how their relationship would be by the end of the evening.
'So, where are we eating?' he asked as they turned towards the car park.
'If you can have secrets,' Ziva replied brightly, having seemingly forgotten about the unvoiced tension. 'So can I.'
'Fair enough,' Tony accepted.
Ziva held out the red satin blindfold. 'Put it on,' she ordered, smiling.
Tony groaned, pushing the offending article away. 'I can't drive blind, Ziva,' he protested.
'I'll drive,' she told him, thrusting it firmly into his hands.
He bent his knees, ducking down to allow her to put it over his eyes. She pulled it down gently, easing it over his carefully prepared hair.
'I'm not looking forward to this,' Tony moaned, sliding cautiously into the passenger seat.
'Don't worry,' Ziva assured him. 'I'll be careful.'
Tomorrow. Another chapter. I promise. There will be expressions of love. Look forward to it. And review.