Chapter Three - Playing With Fire
"You know," Tony remarked, as Ziva set her empty glass down at the same moment he did. "When you're not getting all ninja on my ass and mixing up your idioms, you're a good drinking partner, we drink at the same pace."
"You are not so bad yourself DiNozzo, when you are not quoting movies that is." Ziva replied with a small smile. She bent down, rummaging in her bag and straightened up with a hairbrush. Tony watched for a few seconds as she loosened the neck of her robe, her back to him and began to brush her hair slowly, her aching shoulders obviously making the job hard.
"Hey..." Tony had picked up his cell phone, and was playing idly, but had heard the hiss of pain from his colleague. He got to his knees, and shuffled across the bed behind her. She stiffened at his sudden closeness as he lay his hand over hers, prying the brush from her grasp gently. "Let me."
"Tony, that is not necessary." Ziva shifted her head away from his touch.
"Can't have you making yourself worse and getting put on Desk Duty. Then I'd be stuck with McGee on the field." Tony gently drew her back against him, taking over the brushing. He was obviously inexperienced, and pulled harder than she would have. When his inexpert tugging drew a wince from her, she reached back and took his spare hand, placing it flat against her scalp, showing him how to anchor the hair at the roots to minimise the pulling.
"Like that Tony. If you have a little girl one day, you will need to know this." Ziva murmured quietly. Tony smoothed the brush through the now untangled hair one last time, his fingers instinctively curling through as he went, the silky locks sliding easily through his grasp. "Thank you." Ziva shifted sideways, to look at him as she looped her hair into a low, loose ponytail.
"Welcome David." Tony returned to his side of the bed, picking up the wine bottle. "Can't let this go to waste." He poured himself another glass, and proffered the remaining drink to Ziva.
"I suppose not. Thank you." Ziva held her glass out as he filled it. Sipping again, they realised at about the same moment they had locked eyes over their glasses. Tony cleared his throat, breaking the contact, Ziva shifted to sit more upright, curling her knees to her chest, her body language tense again. The odd crackles of electricity between them nothing unusual in the bullpen at work, but in the candlelit room, both well over the limit, the energy was downright unnerving for her.
"So what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" Tony joked trying to lighten the mood. Ziva rewarded him with a half smile and relaxed shoulders at his cheesy pick up line.
"I would have preferred that line to the gin joint quote from earlier." Ziva laughed slightly. "However, I was not expecting to see you, and I can tell you were not expecting me."
"Can't say I was thrilled to see you honestly." Tony admitted. "Gibbs has his basement, I pick a quiet bar.. How'd you end up there anyway?" Ziva shrugged. She'd driven for a while and picked it at random.
"Were you expecting someone else to be here tonight Tony?" She asked softly. I hope I did not... what did Abby say... rooster block you?" Tony roared with laughter, doubling over and sloshing some wine onto the pillow, wholly incapable of correcting her. "What did I say? I just meant that I did not mean to interrupt your plans."
"Oh no, my plan worked just fine." Still struggling not to laugh, Tony flashed a brilliant smile and a wink, unsurprisingly the dark eyes watching him rolled skyward, the face unamused. "Not really," He came clean "If the opportunity had presented itself I wouldn't have said no. I can't say that's my priority after a case like that though. You know?"
"Hmm..." Ziva nodded wisely, tilting her glass to her lips agian. "Even Ducky would agree that err... physical comforting can be quite effective stress relief. Although, the company afterward can leave a lot to be desired." They shared a knowing glance, both with their share of awkward post-pickup conversations.
"Were you there to pick up Zi?" She hid her face for a second, taking another long sip. Tony smirked to himself, humming something that sounded like "Ziva wants to sco-ore" under his breath. Leaning across the bed Ziva punched him - not exactly hard, but hard enough - in the chest and he fell quiet.
"Well... if the opportunity presented itself I would not have said no." She echoed his words. "Sometimes it helps after a case no?"
"Shame I'm a man of my word, the opportunity could have well presented itself." Tony laughed as Ziva pulled a face. "Hey, I promised you no funny business. Even if it turns out that's what we were both there for."
"Well that is your loss is it not DiNozzo?" With a quick smile, Ziva swung her legs to the floor, bending to retrieve her satchel. " I am off to bed."
"Hey Rapunzel, you forgot this. Would be fun explaining to McGee why I had to return it to you on Monday morning." 'This' was the hairbrush and he lightly tapped her on the shoulder with it. Ziva, taken by surprise and unable to hide her response yelped in pain.
"Damn it Tony!" She hissed, her hand coming to cradle her shoulder.
"Crap Zi, how bad is it?" Tony leaned to the nearest candle and brought it closer, his other hand reaching to pull the clothing away from her skin. To his surprise she didn't flinch or draw away, her only action to pin the neck of her shirt in place so he couldn't see down the front. The flickering candle did not do her injuries justice, but Tony could see the olive skin was a mess of purply-black bruising.
"Those crates were no feather bed." Ziva acknowledged. "You should see my ribs." She shifted again, slipping the robe off her right arm completely, hitching the shirt up carefully. Even in the half light Tony could clearly see the imprint of a size 10 boot, blotchy and raised along her ribs.
"Yikes. Put it away." Tony winced in sympathy. "You must be feeling it pretty bad." Ziva, managing to find her wall of defense again, shrugged noncommittally.
"It is not that bad. I have had worse." she lowered her shirt again.
"How were you planning to pick up like that?" Tony queried, standing and going through the small drawer in his bedside table.
"If I had had company I would have had a Tylenol instead of beer... and left the lights off." There was a slight warmth and humour in her reply. "What is this?" Tony sat back down and offered a tube of something.
"Arnica ointment. It will help the bruising go down." There was a buzzing noise in the room, then a whoosh from the heating vents and the apartment slowly flickered back to life, the clock beside them flashing 12:00 repeatedly. Both agents blinked in the sudden change, only the lamp had been left on but compared to the candles it was bright. For the first time they were both able to take in each others' faces properly. The pain and tiredness on Ziva's, the genuine concern on Tony's.
"Thank you." Ziva took the tube from Tony, reading the label. She stood to shimmy her dressing gown off completely, as Tony moved to reset his clock and blow out the candles. Squeezing a small amount onto her hand, she reached around to apply it to her bruised shoulders, her fingers sliding under the neckline on the shirt. She grimaced in pain again, her aching muscles resisting even an action that would likely soothe them.
"I got it." Tony sat beside her, seeing the discomfort written on her face. She didn't protest, instead handing him the ointment quietly.
"Thank you Tony. I would appreciate that." She shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, her feet on the floor and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, exposing most of her back to him.
"You know, this could give a guy the wrong - oof!" Tony had leaned close, his words barely a whisper in her ear, his nose nuzzling against her temple, but the sentence ended abruptly when her elbow met his stomach. Aware that she was still tense with the closeness, despite the better lighting, Tony backed off, and took his time, laying his hand on her back, waiting till she relaxed before easing his hands under her shirt.
"When you're ready Ziva." He waited, his hands resting lightly against her skin until her posture relaxed and she gave a slight nod. He moved to slide his hands along her spine, the clingy shirt restricting his movements.
"It is hard for me to trust someone at my back sometimes Tony. I need some time to adjust." Ziva explained quietly, her growing comfort with his closeness lowering her usual independent, unfeeling facade. Tony's fingers brushed an older, raised scar and understood. "Wait, this is hard." Tony had gone to work his hands up toward her shoulders, but paused again.
"When you're ready." He repeated, realising that though the scar may have healed, her soul had not. She shuffled away.
"No, I meant it is hard with this shirt you picked." Ziva explained.
"You could just take it off." Tony tensed his belly against the expected elbow at his cheeky suggestion. "Or I'll lend you something bigger." He added when Ziva did not react. She took a deep, steadying breath, and although nothing physical changed, Tony realised he was suddenly a lot closer to her than he had been seconds ago.
"No Tony, it is fine. I trust you. Could you...?" She motioned for him to turn his head. Confused, he did so and heard the rustle of fabric and felt her shifting on the bed beside him. "Okay."
"Uhh... Ziva?" Tony turned back, to find her laying on her belly, her face turned toward him, her shirt gone.
"You gave me your word. I trust you." She repeated quietly. He settled beside her on the bed, and when he placed his hands gently on her back again, she did not flinch. Softly he rubbed the cream into the bruises, avoiding some older crisscrossing scars when he realised she tensed again. Her back was a veritable rainbow of bruising, but somehow the skin still soft beneath his hands. Occasionally a small sigh would slip out, her eyes half closed as she relaxed beneath his ministrations. Scooping her hair gently off her neck, Tony began working on the bruises there, kneeling up to reach without pressing himself against her.
"Do you want me to do your ribs?" Tony paused, her back now having a slight sheen from the cream. The bruising on her ribs was higher, reaching toward her underarm, just colouring where the curve of her breast began. Ziva paused thoughtfully, then shifted carefully, rolling so her ribs were exposed but covering the rest of her body with the dressing gown. It was Tony's turn to feel awkward in the intimate position now, glancing down at Ziva's relaxed, trusting face on the pillow, flushed with alcohol, her dark eyes heavy lidded with rapidly approaching sleep. He lightly placed his right hand against her rib cage.
"Do not tickle me." Ziva mumbled, Tony gulped a little, and started low on the bruise, in the curve of her waist. He took his time moving upward, pausing as his fingers reached the top most rib before the flesh began to fill out again. "Go ahead Tony, I could not reach it properly anyway." Ziva's voice was low, smoky with sleep, as she arranged herself again, her arm stretched above her head, so Tony had full access to the bruising.
"If you want me to stop, say." Mr Confident was gone, acutely aware of the trust she was instilling in him, he was anxious to do that justice. He edged his fingers upward, another sigh coming from Ziva's lips. He worked around the bruise at the side of her breast, focusing on the area under her arm and in her armpit, careful not to tickle. As his hand came back down, he allowed his fingers to brush lightly over the incline where her breast began, and when Ziva did not react badly, his touch became more assured, applying the ointment gently to the discoloured skin.
Her cheek resting against the soft cotton pillow slip, Ziva felt Tony's fingers brush against the side of her breast. Despite the cool, sticky cream his hand was pleasant, her skin tingling in response to the gentle touch. Ziva growled inwardly feeling her body react to the gentle touch in an entirely non-coworker way, frustrated by her body's betrayal at something she was trying to keep friendly. She managed to suppress an appreciative squirm, but a low moan slipped out, and Ziva turned her head, hiding her eyes from him.
"This is not Ziva... this is McGee..." Tony chanted in his head. "This is Ducky... Gibbs... oh god Ziva, don't do that!" The moan vibrated under his hand and Tony gulped again, he was used to the women in his bed being far more exposed to his gaze, but somehow the half inch of skin he could see was making his mind run wild. "Palmer... in a bikini!" He shuddered at the thought, anything to keep his mind and touch platonic, Tony hurriedly finished his task, his hand making one long, gentle caress down her ribcage of its own accord.
"Thank you Tony." Ziva said softly. Her voice, though sleepy was rich, silky and went straight through him, causing an immediate reaction, heat pooling in his belly. She rolled slowly, keeping herself covered, to gaze up at him sleepily, reaching to brush his arm in thanks. Tony shifted back from her quickly, breaking the eye contact. "Tony?" Ziva queried rolling onto her other side toward him.
"Anytime Zi... well not anytime, I mean, it's not exactly something you'd expect me to do in the office. But you know, after a case or whatever, though I guess you can do it yourself." Tony babbled trying to cover the effect she was having on him, turning away and bunching his robe in his lap.
"Tony, are you okay?" Ziva's asked, confusion in her voice. She didn't understand his sudden withdrawal.
"Peachy David." He swallowed the last of his wine in a single, vicious gulp.
"Even I can tell that is sarcastic DiNozzo." Ziva rolled some more, toward him. He flinched away. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Yes! No... could you put your robe on?" Ziva puzzled, as she was still well covered although not technically wearing it, obliged quickly and discretely. "Not that I would have any problem normally with you sitting there topless, but I do. I promised nothing inappropriate and you're making it damn near impossible."
"What do you - oh!" Ziva suddenly realised. "I am sorry Tony. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable." She yawned at the end of her sentence, stretching out her last words. "It is just that I trust you. I knew that I was safe to let you help me."
"I know Zi, and believe me I get how big a deal that is for you. But you... this... your..." Tony waved his hands around indicating Ziva, stretched out along the bed. "I had to picture Palmer in a bikini for crying out loud." Ziva smirked a little at that.
"Tony, you were good to your word, and I thank you. But you do not need to be embarrassed that seeing me so close had an effect on you. It's not as though you have kept the fact you would like a look a secret before. Even without our history, it is the normal human response to the situation." This time, when she reached to brush his arm, he didn't pull back. "I am sorry, I did not mean to make things hard for you Tony."
"Rule Six David, and don't talk about hard." The last part was in an undertone that she barely caught, and accompanied by a rueful laugh.
"I did not mean to give you the wrong impression Tony. Honestly. Besides, you said it yourself, how would I pick up with all those bruises? They are not exactly centre-page material." The tiredness was fading again, a desire to make things right with Tony taking precedence.
"Centrefold." Tony corrected automatically. "Don't you get it Zi? The bruises aren't pretty, but they're part of you, this crazy, kick ass ninja assassin who happens to be lying in my bed, half naked, letting me rub her back and moaning. I'd have to be dead to not find that attractive."
"I did not mean..." Ziva started, the warmth in her cheeks deepening. "It is not as though I could ignore where your hands were either." She admitted.
"I knew it! Still got the magic touch!" Tony crowed, a smug smile forming as he settled on the bed, so they were both lying on their sides facing each other.
"I did not say I intended to act on that Tony. Just that it was pleasant." Ziva responded, relieved that Tony seemed to be his usual self again.
"You're one crazy ninja-chick." Tony informed her. He leant right across her to pinch her wine glass. When her hand crept to his waist, he started, splashing more wine onto the bed.
"Why is that Tony?" Her dark eyes gazed up at him with amusement, her fingers digging into him slightly to still him, "And do not steal my wine."
"Because Ms Da-veed." Tony stretched out her name, still hovering above her body. "You have the incredibly talented Very Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo more than willing to provide that physical comforting you mentioned earlier, which I might add, would spoil you for any other man in the future. You said yourself you were after some company tonight, but when it's right there in front of you, you're suddenly 'no funny business' - you must be crazy. Not stealing by the way, sharing." He slid his hand under her head, lifting it slightly and pressing the glass to her lips, his thumb catching a stray bead of wine that missed her mouth, smoothing it across her bottom lip.
"That very Special Agent also happens to be my colleague, and more than aware of Rule 12. My priority is my job Tony, you know that." Despite the seriousness of her reply, Ziva's voice was light, her hands not leaving his waist.
"This wasn't a date really." Tony responded, as he took another small sip. "More like a chance encounter."
"Not sure how Gibbs would feel about that technicality." Ziva smirked, pushing back so her head was resting against the pillow, his hand still cradling her. It drew his body down somewhat closer to hers, their legs now pressing full length against each other.
"If Gibbs could feel this I don't think he'd have a mind for technicalities." Tony rested his right forearm on the pillow beside her head, bracing so his torso remained above her, still aware of her injuries. His left hand still held the wine glass, offering Ziva another sip, before having one himself. Their mouthfuls were small, drawing out the moment, and leaving as much as possible in the glass.
"Hmm." Ziva agreed, shifting beneath him slightly. Her hips rocked a little, grinding against his thigh, and one hand found its way to the back of his head, her nails raking lightly on his scalp.
"Playing with fire Zi." Tony growled. He tipped the glass to his mouth again to steady himself. It was difficult with the new closeness, and harder still to offer Ziva some more. By the time he'd wriggled enough to set the glass aside, he was lying between her legs, drawing a shuddering gasp from both of them. Tony's head dropped to rest in her neck, tracing his nose slowly up and down the curve there.
"I am playing with fire?" Ziva raised one eyebrow beneath him, shivering as nerve endings fired when his lips brushed, but not kissed her neck.
"Well, I am hot." Tony deadpanned, then gasped as the small chuckle from Ziva made her body tremble beneath him. He looked her right in the eye, "Look Zi, I'm all for a little teasing and flirting, but you wanted to keep things friendly. I can't think of the last time I laid with a friend like this."
"Neither can I Tony." Ziva rolled her body under him, dragging her nails down his spine. "Perhaps that means this is not a friendly situation?" Spotting the smallest drop of red wine in the corner of his mouth, she leaned up, putting her lips close and with a gentle nip and flick of her tongue cleaned it away. Tony groaned deeply.
"You're killing me here Ziva. What about no funny business?" Tony queried. He was absolutely, one hundred percent in favour of where things seemed to be going, but the volatile nature of the woman beneath him made him hesitate.
"This is not funny Tony." Ziva whispered against his lips. "This is very, very serious." Opening her mouth a little more, she trapped him in a slow, sensual kiss. Needless to say, she did not sleep on the couch that night.