Okay people. You know the drill. I do not actually own these characters. They belong to bellasarius Productions This is just fan fiction- no harm intended. This M just for suggestion.
This is the missing scene from Pack Your Gear that I was asked for. It happens after Boxed In. If you don't like season 3 spoilers don't read it.
In Vino Veritas
"Are you going to help me shower?" Tony asked playfully. He leaned against the bathroom door dressed only in his boxers, grinning at Ziva. "I'm not supposed to get my stitches wet."
"I already helped you." She replied. She'd driven him home obeying most traffic laws. She'd untied his shoes and undid all buttons and zippers. She would make dinner. That's where her help ended. Ziva genuinely liked Tony but she wasn't jumping into bed with him. She didn't want to be one in a long line of conquests. She wanted to mean everything.
"I might need help." Tony continued undeterred.
"Want me to get your rubber ducky too? Hold your hand so you don't slip down the drain?" She said sarcastically.
"C'mon. I'm wounded here."
"Oh. I have no idea what that's like. Take your own shower big boy." Like she'd never been wounded before. Try showering after a C-section. It had been excruciating and no body had babied her.
Ziva left him and went into the kitchen to start dinner. She'd washed up in the sink at work but still felt gritty and grimy. She sniffed the air. She smelled strongly of smoke. What a frustrating day. All she wanted was to shower, eat and make love. Did I really just think that? I must be crazy! She shredded a head of lettuce viciously into a blue bowl and waited for her turn to clean up.
When the shower clicked off she scurried into the bathroom nearly knocking Tony over.
"In a hurry?" he asked, adjusting his towel.
"Can you blame me?" She retorted, whipping her shirt off. He was right. She wore no bra.
"Nope. You stink."
Silently Ziva agreed. She stripped the rest of her clothes off in a flash and jumped in the tub. Happily she cranked the water on high and was hit square in the chest with a blast of water pins and needles cold.
"Tony!" She shouted. "You used up all the hot water!"
"No I didn't. The handle's loose." He said. "You need to fiddle with it."
She did. It wobbled back and forth and produced no results.
"It's still freezing!" Grumpily she pressed her body against the back of the shower out of the offending stream of water. The tile was cold and clammy against her back. Was a little hot water too much to ask? She'd spent the whole day freezing her rear end off in a box. She had had to pee too. Now this. "Fix it!" she demanded.
Tony made a show of considering it for a moment while she stood shivering on display. He locked eyes with her before his gaze drifted south, pausing on her chest. "Guess you really are cold."
"Congratulations you're a genius. Now fix it. Please." Ziva added, her teeth chattering as she spoke.
His gazed continued downward to her scuffed knees. The abrasions were recent. "I think you might want to hear my theory on your knees first. That look you gave me in the office just before we left-"
"What look? There was no look."
"I believe it's what one calls a knowing look. Right before we left."
"Oh. That one."
"Yeah, that one. Did you sleep with Gibbs?"
To his dismay she didn't immediately deny it or slap him silly as he was hoping. "What if I said yes?" She questioned, voice neutral. Her face was blank, the consumate spy.
"I'd be pissed." He spoke in a level tone even though he was starting to feel quite angry. He stepped as close to her as he dared. Pissed was the understatement of the year. If she said yes he'd be livid.
She tilted her head to the side as she studied his face. "What if I said no?" she asked her face and voice still unreadable.
"I'd be relieved." He paused. "Which is it then?"
"Like I said. Live long enough."
"No hot water for you then. I want to know." Crazy chick.
"Do you really?" The look in her big brown eyes told him to drop it. He did. I probably don't want to know anyway.
Grudgingly he adjusted the faucet. "Good enough?"
She nodded yes. She entered the warm stream and tipped her head back exposing her whole body. She grabbed the soap and began to wash herself. Pure heaven. Someday she'd tell him how she'd come by her scrapes. Not tonight. He was safer in the dark.
He watched as she washed unbothered by his presence. She was not showing off or teasing him. She just didn't care what he saw. He found it quite appealing. He grabbed the shower door to slide it back.
"You're not getting in here with me." She said. She meant it.
"I'll go set the table." He replied and left.
XXXXXX
"Thanks for dinner. It was wonderful." Tony said. It had gone well. They ate, joked and talked for an hour about nothing in particular. Ziva was quite possibly the best cook he knew. Everything had gone so well in fact he was just a little worried. He didn't want a repeat of their last "Date" where he'd fallen asleep under her. Currently they sat on the living room sofa finishing off a bottle of wine.
"My pleasure." She said scooting closer to him "I'm sorry I-"
"You already apologized." He cut her off.
"Not that. I lied. I'm claustrophobic. I once spent 72 hours in a box too small to stand up or lay down."
He choked on his wine. "Geez. You could have told me."
"Like I said. I'm private."
"I noticed."
She sipped her drink. I really should stop. She was far from inebriated, but her tongue felt loose in her mouth. Red wine always made her feel warm and cozy. She'd had a glass already, or was it two? On an impulse she swung her legs across his lap. She balanced her mostly-empty glass of wine on her knee.
"Why I do believe you're soused." Tony laughed, twisting ever so slightly to look her in the face.
"I am not a cow!" Ziva protested loudly.
"Not sow. Soused. Drunk." He laughed. He slid his hand under her shirt, letting it rest on the small of her back.
"I'm far from it so don't get excited."
He pulled his hand out and idly reached up to play with her curls. "I like your hair down."
"I'll remember that." Ziva said softly. She felt comfortable with him. It was hard to hold all of her secrets in day after day, year after year. She'd spent so long not talking about herself that she had almost forgotten how. He might be a man-child, but he was a friend. She trusted him. He'd always proved reliable when she needed him. So talk to him. "Ask me anything then," she said.
He gave her a wolfish smile. "Anything?" This called for tact. There was so much he wanted to ask her but he didn't want to make her angry. He wanted to keep her taking, not shut her down. He thought carefully. "What's your fantasy really?" he asked, his face scant inches from hers.
She chuckled, "That you figure out the meaning of commitment." That really is a fantasy now isn't it "How about you?"
"Mine is that you forget all about it."
She snorted. "When hell freezes over. This is an expression, yes?"
"Sweet cheeks you don't know what you're missing."
"Neither do you." She smiled. All he could focus on was her mouth. He was certain what she said was true. If the time they'd spent together undercover was any indication then definitely it was true.
Ziva paused, feeling the need to unburden herself. "So you asked about my dad."
"You don't have to talk about it." Tony responded. He meant it. He felt bad that he'd touched a nerve earlier. Clearly it was a sensitive issue.
"In vino veritas." She said, lifting her glass.
"Come again?"
"In wine there is truth. My father's the Director of Mossad."
"I thought so." He paused. "I have another one for you, why didn't you ask me to dinner?"
Her face darkened. "Because there's only one thing you really want from me and when you've had enough you'll move on."
"You're wrong."
"How so? You look at me like you want to eat me," she persisted.
"Same way you look at me sweet cheeks."
It was true. She wanted to deny it but she couldn't. "Okay. We're not talking anymore." She withdrew her legs from his lap and stretched them out over the coffee table. She set her unfinished glass down. Time to stop. She was so confused. The last man she had been this conflicted about was Jacob. She'd loved him very much and it had ended messily. Literally.
"Fine. Want to watch a movie?" he asked, interrupting her trip down memory lane.
"How is it you have for much sex as you claim to have if you watch so many movies?" She looked teasingly at him.
"Just good I guess. Is that a no on the movie?"
"I don't know. It's getting late."
"Do you just want to skip it and make love?" No harm asking.
She smiled and her eyes lit up. Suddenly he felt as if the temperature in the room had shot up twenty degrees. Sweat started to trickle down his back. He felt his pulse accelerate. "Maybe," she said. In one smooth move she straddled him. She rested her hands on her thighs and leaned into him.
"Maybe?"
"There's that commitment issue we were just talking about."
"I can learn." He said and kissed her.
XXXXX
He's right. I didn't know what I was missing. Ziva had her nearly naked body wrapped around Tony so tightly she didn't know where one left off and the other began. His hands stroked her back, pressing her to him. She let out a deep moan. Then she heard it, the little voice in the back of her head. Do you want to be just another conquest, even if it's good? Yes. No. Definitely no.
"Stop." Ziva said. She put both hands on Tony's shoulders and pushed herself free. She sat up, turning her back to him. Confused Tony sat up and wrapped his good arm loosely around her waist.
"What's wrong?"
"What happens after?" Ziva asked. She couldn't look him in the face, afraid that if she saw him she'd give in.
"Isn't it obvious?" he laughed, kissing her neck.
She shook him off. "I mean tomorrow, and all the days after that."
"This doesn't have to be the last time we make love." He laughed.
She rose swiftly. "In case you missed it I have no interest being just another conquest." She shouted. Ziva dressed so fast he was surprised she didn't hurt herself. She slammed the door on the way out. Then it hit him. Commitment.
XXXXX
He couldn't sleep. He could still smell her on his sheets. She smelled warm and inviting. Like want. He thrashed, kicking the blanket to the floor. He tossed and turned, flipped front to back and front again. Her scent wouldn't go away. He got up and stripped the bed and lay down on his back on the bare mattress. No good. He still couldn't sleep. Silently he stared at the ceiling until dawn broke. Today would be hell. She would see to it.
XXXXX
Ziva sat glaring at Tony from her desk. She wanted to throw something at him. Like a right hook maybe. Trouble was she didn't want to hurt him. Well, not too badly. Instead she stuck out her tongue. "Mwahhh."
"Very mature Zee-vah."
"Says you." She retorted.
"You know sarcasm is not very attractive."
"I take it dinner went well?" McGee asked, amused by the open display of animosity.
"Oh. Dinner was good." Ziva said.
"Yeah. Dinner went well." Tony nodded.
Dinner had been good. It was the part that came after that bothered her. So I was curious. I still am. And I have it bad. Why does that seem so wrong? She felt furious at both of them. She lost it. She lobbed a roll of masking tape at him, bouncing it off his forehead. "Man-child."
XXXXXX
As luck would have it they were the last two to leave that night. Tony sat putting the finishes touches on report. Ziva talked on the phone in a language he couldn't understand. The day had been miserable. The culminating point was the six hours they spent in the van together. Angry, Ziva had a sharp and exacting tongue and look that made him want to fall into a large whole in the floor. He had to admit he wasn't much better. They'd fought so much on the ride out to the crime scene that McGee had elected to ride back in the coroner's van with Ducky. McGee hated dead bodies.
The lights were low on the bullpen floor. Ziva hung up and approached him. She leaned down, palms flat on his desk. He had a clear view down her shirt to her belly button. He ignored it. What he could not ignore was her scent. It brought him right back to the unfinished business of the previous night.
"What are you doing tonight?" She asked. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He wanted to touch it but knew it could only play out two possible ways. Either she'd kill him and make it look like an accident or they'd get caught making love one the bullpen floor.
"I have a date." He replied. With a bottle of beer and a movie.
"Me too." She smiled. "Have fun." She turned on her heel and left him. Her scent still hung in the air.
XXXXXX
So what do we think? Let me know. I love reviews. I am working on another one. Just in case- did anybody see that look Ziva gives Tony at the very end of boxed in? That's the one I'm talking about.