A/N - This is a post-ep for Kill Ari 1+2. I'm new to NCIS fanfiction (but not to fanfiction or NCIS) so I decided to start at the beginning. I have many ideas for other Tony/Ziva post eps. If people enjoy my writing, I'd be excited to write more!

Rated T for language and sexual tension.

This is a bad idea.

That thought ran on repeat in his head as he entered the Embrasso Hotel and got even louder as he approached the bar and ordered a drink. He could have gone to any bar for a quiet after-case drink. But he didn't. He came here, to the hotel he knew she was staying at. He wasn't insane enough to call up to her room and ask her to join him, but he was defiantly hoping to run into her.

But when she appeared on the stool next to him, he found himself lost for words. It wasn't often Tony DiNozzo found himself unable to speak in front of a woman, and she'd managed to make it happen several times over the last couple of days. Ziva David. Mossad ninja assassin. There was something different about her. She intimidated him, although he'd never admit to it.

She'd changed into more casual clothes, but the black skirt was slim fitting and showed off the curve of her hips. An emerald green shirt made her olive skin glow, and he was pretty sure she wasn't wearing a bra. She let him look, taking her time before settling herself into the seat.

Ziva stared at him with an amused smirk on her face as he floundered for something to say, some excuse for why he was sat here out of all the bars in DC. "You are here to buy me a drink, yes?" she eventually said, raising a brow as she gave him an excuse he could jump on.

Tony cleared his throat and spoke slowly, signaling the barman. "Erm, yeah, that's exactly why I'm here."

"I am sure it is," Ziva replied with a coy smile, eyes flitting to his body as she let him know she knew it wasn't the only reason. When the barman approached, she ordered a mojito and Tony requested a refill of scotch. He had a feeling he was going to need it if the burning sensation in the side of his head from the gaze of the explosive woman beside him was anything to go by. He wondered briefly if she'd been hoping he would come.

There was a period of silence - he found it awkward, she seemed to enjoy how uncomfortable he was - before the barman returned with their drinks, and he found himself pounding back half the glass in one, savoring the smooth amber. "So," he started, finding his confidence. "What's the Mossad assassin gonna do with herself now?"

Her eyes flashed with uncertainty. So brief, it would be easy to miss. But there was something about her that he couldn't keep his eyes off and he was a pretty good investigator. Usually, reading people was his specialty, and he could only hope he was reading her right. "I am unsure," she started, hesitating before adding, "I return to Tel Aviv tomorrow afternoon, then I will be awaiting my new orders."

"So you're stuck here for another night?" He spun the glass on the bar, making the ice cube clink.

"It is not so bad. I like Americans." Her smile was crooked as she shot him a wink.

"You do?" he mock-preened himself. "That's good, because I happen to like Israelis'."

This is a bad idea. That voice in his head warned louder as he flirted with her. Flirted with fire.

Ziva scoffed, her lips pouting in a way that almost made him lean over and kiss her. He resisted, just. "Have you ever even met anyone else from Israel?"

"None that look like you," he conceded, letting his eyes fall to her lips. It was a compromise, he told himself. He could look but not touch.

Of course, the enigmatic wild card in front of him had very different ideas. She leaned forward on her stool, thigh brushing his. "You find me attractive, yes?" She asked so bluntly and with absolutely no embarrassment, left hand coming up to brush imaginary dust off his shoulder. Her hand felt hot, even with his shirt in the way, and he shifted in his seat. Her eyes never left his.

"Well... I mean, yeah... Of course... You're..." He gestured wildly in front of her, trying desperately to play it cool. What the hell was wrong with him? Oh yeah, right. This is a bad idea.

She smiled warmly, eyes blinking slowly as she seemed to pause to consider her next words. He was captivated by her. Dark eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the hotel bar. Chestnut curls cascaded down a back that arched in a way that he was sure would drive him insane. Ziva met his eye. "I have scotch upstairs," she offered, "if you'd like a more... personal service." A pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, and he wondered if it was deliberate. She was likely trained in the art of seduction, and when he remembered why that was, that voice came back. This is a bad idea.

Tony took a deep breath. "As much as I would love that..." He gritted his teeth, forcing the words out of his mouth. "I can't... You're..."

"I am what, Tony?" she asked, not seeming to be offended by him turning her down. If anything, she seemed amused that he was trying to, as though she knew full well he would not be able to resist.

He groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. "A spy! And where I work... I'm pretty sure it says somewhere that I can't sleep with foreign agents. National Security and all..." It sounded lame even as he said it, although he was pretty sure it was true. "My boss would kill me, hell he'd probably arrest me just for thinking about it and..."

Her hand landed on his lips, shutting him up in the middle of his babbling. She had that smirk again that said she knew this who charade was pointless.

"Agent Gibbs is not here, Tony," she mock-whispered. "And do not worry. I already know everything about you anyway. There are no secrets left for me to steal."

Tony raised an eyebrow. Just how much information did she have in that dossier of him? He was about to ask but she spoke first.

"I leave tomorrow. I will likely never see you again. It is up to you. The ball is in your field, yes?"

"Court."

"What?" She dropped her hand.

"It's 'the ball is in your court'."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "Why would you have a ball in a court? Would that not disrupt proceedings?"

"Not that kind of court, Ziva." He couldn't tell if she was messing with him or not, but somehow he'd ended up leaning into her, and there was that flash again. Something about her being dangerous. Something about this being a bad idea. Her breath ghosted over his cheeks and lips, warm brown eyes glinting. He felt suddenly drunk.

"To court is to date, yes?" she frowned innocently, and he couldn't tell if she genuinely wasn't getting it, or if she was just enjoying toying with him. He wasn't even sure he cared anymore.

"Is this a date?" he shot back, never one to be outdone even if he was fast losing any sense of time and space. He was drowning in her, drawn in like a moth to a flame. An apt metaphor. She would most defiantly burn him.

Ziva pursed her lips, taking a moment to look him up and down. "I do not think so," she stated bluntly, and he was almost hurt for a moment until he realized her hand was on his thigh and she'd moved her face ever so slightly closer to his. "My dates would usually have kissed me by now." Her eyebrow was raised in a challenge, and he stared dazed at her, fighting a war inside as he desperately tried not to grab her and pull her close. This was a bad idea. Right?

She downed her drink, and abruptly removed her hand from his leg, jerking him back into the room. "Goodnight Tony." Her gaze lingered on his briefly, perhaps wondering if he'd change his mind before she disappeared off into the lobby.

What the fuck are you doing DiNozzo? He thought to himself. You've just turned down probably the sexiest woman in the world who wanted you to come upstairs and fuck her. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd downed his drink and risen to his feet. Paying the tab, he could find no more fight in him, the concerns about national security and his job and Gibbs and the fact she was most defiantly a seductress and he probably wasn't the first man she'd pulled into her web seemed far away and irrelevant and he couldn't seem to stop his feet from walking him to the elevator.

He caught the door, finding her already leaning against the corner, not looking at all surprised to see him follow as he stepped through and met her eyes. They were black, pupils blown wide as she stared him down with such hunger in her gaze that he felt his groin tingle. She wanted him. And she was horny as fuck. A low growl tumbled from him, and he took the final step towards her, running his fingers down her cheek as he tucked a loose curl behind her ear. She stared up at him and it occurred to him how little she blinked. He wondered if it was a Mossad Spy trick to avoid missing danger. It hit him again, but this time he vocalized it, words tipping into her mouth as he grazed her lips with his own. "This is a bad idea..."

She smiled against him, a hint of softness in her eyes he did not imagine he would see from her. "I will not make you do anything, Tony," she assured but did not move back, allowing her body heat to continue radiating toward him. She was a fire, and he was already singed. "But bad ideas," she continued, pressing a single finger to his chest, tapping lightly, "often offer more... intense experiences, yes?"

The flicker of a flame in her eyes and that was it. The end of any self-control he had left. Before he even thought to move he found himself slamming her back into the elevator wall, lips finding hers in a frantic and explosive kiss. She moaned into his mouth and he felt light-headed. He had no idea what this was, how she was doing this to him. It felt almost spiritual, rapturous. She was a drug and he was already addicted. Her lips were soft and insistent, and Tony was about to run his fingers through her hair and pull her closer when the elevator door dinged and opened at her floor.

They separated, panting slightly, and got out. Eyes meeting, she tugged him behind her, hips swaying to keep his attention and he thought the skirt made her ass look especially good. She walked them to her room, glancing back with a smirk as she felt his hands come to rest on her sides whilst she worked the room key. It took her a moment, and it pleased him slightly to see her hands tremble. At least he knew she was real, and not totally infallible. Of course, it could just be arousal. He wasn't sure which he'd prefer.

Entering, it took her no time to turn around, taking the upper hand and pushing him hard against the door as soon as it shut behind them. Her lips met his jaw, nibbling along it as she took hold of his hands and placed them back on her body. He didn't need another hint. He felt her twitch and tremble when his hands ran over her curves, slipping quickly under her shirt and up her back and sides. He was right, she wasn't wearing a bra. His thumbs found her nipples and brushed against them. Her answering groan against his neck drew a strangled gasp from his. She felt incredible. Soft and strong.

Tony knew instantly there was no going back. Not when she was hot and needy against him, tugging him closer. No, he know he was well and truly lost to her. Light headed. Drugged. Addicted. Her tongue licked his lips like a flame and he sucked in her hot breath.

He'd be a pile of smoldering ash by morning.

Fin.

A/N I can and will write the sexy part of this if people would like. Please let me know what you think in the reviews.