Author's Note: Apologies for the long wait, been a house full of sickies here.
So many reviews and alerts as always - thank you so much! Should probably mention at some point that the characters aren't mine, I just borrow them.
Onto a couple of questions, not going to spoil the whole story, but I do have a good idea of how realising this arrangement isn't working for them goes down, but I'm still working on the catalyst for that scene. Pretty safe to say it won't be an unplanned pregnancy though, I don't see their characters coping well where they're at just now. I'd also go way OOC, and I'm doing my best to keep them in character as possible.
So glad you're all liking the moments, that's how my brain works, sketches random scenes, one liners etc and then I write to fill the blanks to work those parts together. I believe Gibbs can have a playful side, (as well as some weariness about Tony & Tim squabbling all the time) and I like that Mr Rule 12 himself inadvertently made it easier for Tony & Ziva to act like nothing was going on by having Tony be irritated with Ziva as soon as she got there, it can't get too hard for them just yet, we all need a bit of Tiva fluff in our day :)
Still loving the reviews and suggestions are always welcome! Anyway... onto the story!
Chapter Six - Ghosts of Missions Past
"Cut it out DiNozzo!" Ziva slammed her hand down on the desk, shaking crumbs from her hair. Tony looked down innocently, from where he had been perched on the corner of her desk, throwing some kind of cheese flavoured snack in the air and catching them in his mouth.
"Can't help it Ziva." He smiled disarmingly, "Don't like being left out." He pouted in the direction of Vance's office where McGee and Gibbs had been summoned earlier.
"Well find someone else to annoy. I am trying to work." She turned back to her computer, jabbing at the keyboard.
"There isn't anyone else, it's you and me." Tony motioned, the whole room was empty, it was close to 8pm that night, and shortly before going home the Director had called Gibbs and McGee, with instructions for Tony and Ziva to stay put.
Ziva growled under her breath, he was obnoxious today. They had been keeping up the facade of (not quite) professional bickering well for some weeks, with their non-dates happening 2 or 3 times a week. The apparent tension at work served two purposes, keeping Gibbs, McGee and Abby unaware of the arrangement, and somehow the frustration between them transferred to passion after hours. The constant aggravation helped them keep their 'relationship' strictly business, as it left little room for anything more intimate to blossom as well, making them both feel safe.
Tony had moved, wheeling his chair over and propping his feet on Ziva's desk, at first playing a game on his phone, then collecting all the paper clips he could find, linked them into a long chain and began to tape them across the front of her desk, allowing them to fall in curves between each piece of tape, much like Christmas lights. He sharpened every single pencil she had to a fine point - a dangerous move given the scowl on her face - thought better of it, and proceeded to draw cartoon figures on sticky notes until they were blunt again. It was when he began to 'wallpaper' the back of her cubicle with the decorated notes that she leapt from her chair, and before he knew quite what had happened, Ziva was sitting on his back, pinning one arm behind him, her other hand on his head, pressing his cheek into the grey industrial carpet.
"I swear to God Tony, you touch one more thing on my desk and..."
"You'll what David?" Ziva glanced up, Gibbs was standing directly in front of her, and McGee, now at his desk, attempting - badly - to hide a smirk.
"Yeah David what will you do? Ungh!" Tony taunted, and Ziva ground his head a little more firmly into the floor.
"Let him up Ziva. Tony, learn to respect Ziva's space. Do that again and I won't stop her next time." Ziva stood up, offering Tony her hand to help him up. He accepted, coming to his feet and straightening his clothes.
"Won't happen again Boss." The Senior Agent promised cheerfully.
"Better not. Now if you two can restrain yourselves from playing grab ass, the Director wants a word." As though on cue, Vance appeared, passing a folder to Tony and Ziva.
"Nora Williams," he began, McGee brought up the image of a blonde, smiling woman on the screen between his and Tony's desk. "She's got a major testimony coming up in the Berringer trial. You two are to escort her safely here."
"Seems straightforward." Tony nodded. Ziva flicked through the folder.
"Her testimony is all we have as far as bringing this guy down, the documents have been lost. We don't yet know what kind of danger she may or may not be in, be on your guard. Agent McGee has organised your transport and accommodation. Vance went on.
"Yes Director." Ziva replied.
"Where is she and when do we leave?" Tony asked, having not so much as glanced at the papers in his hand.
"Paris," Gibbs spoke up. "You fly tonight."
Ziva collapsed wearily on the sofa in the hotel lobby, leaving Tony to organise checking in. It was a long flight, she was tired and wanted nothing more than a shower and a nap. Although it was noon local time, the flight had taken place overnight as far as Ziva's body was concerned, and while she'd slept most of the nearly 8-hour flight, it did not equal a night's rest in bed.
"What do you mean there's only one room?" Tony asked the receptionist his voice raised a notch.
"Sir, we received a booking for David DiNozzo." She explained politely, saying David as though it was the male christian name. "Unfortunately we're at capacity and cannot separate you two, the room you are booked into is the only one available."
"Da-veed and DiNozzo! Two separate people!" Tony exclaimed, emphasising the correct pronunciation of Ziva's surname. At his raised voice, the manager eased over.
"Monsieur, please I must ask you to keep your voice down. Perhaps a complimentary room service dinner tonight for the two of you will help make up for the inconvenience?" The manager stepped in. Tony was appeased with the offer of free food, finishing checking in and getting the room key.
"C'mon Zi." He shouldered her bag before she could protest.
"What is going on Tony?" She enquired, noticing his face still looked aggravated.
"I might have to kill McGee, that's what. He made the booking here, turns out they thought we're one agent named David DiNozzo. We've only got the one room."
"Not if I kill him first." Ziva replied, following Tony toward the elevators. This was new territory for them, on duty, alone together, overnight, and neither one knew what the other was thinking about their arrangement.
The room cheered Tony up quickly enough though, it wasn't as fancy as the suite they'd had the last time they'd shared a hotel, undercover some years earlier, but it was nice, and the bed looked comfortable. Ziva disappeared into the bathroom for a shower. Tony immediately made himself at home on the couch, flipping through the channels on the generous TV.
Ziva emerged from the bathroom, her hair loose around her face, the natural curl showing through in the slightly damp locks, a cloud of steam following her into the room. Tony looked up and smiled.
"Well ma cherie" He said in his best French accent, "How about we order some lunch and find a movie?"
"We are here to work DiNozzo. I am not your dear." She informed him tersely. She had added "No pet names" to their rules a week ago after Tony had murmured an endearment in Italian as he'd drifted to sleep. Sweetcheeks and Hairy Butt seemed not to apply though, being both said and received with a smirk.
"We're not getting Nora until tomorrow morning Zi, and we're in Paris, The Moulin Rouge, Can-Can Girls..." Ziva glowered, "Arc de Triomphe, The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower." He added quickly.
"This is not a vacation." In spite of her words, Ziva flopped onto the bed, stretching out. Tony got to his knees, turning and regarded her over the back of the couch.
"C'mon Ziva. We're off duty till tomorrow. We should enjoy ourselves." He clambered over the back, crawling up the bed beside her, prodding her gently till she rolled to face him. "As soon as we're on duty, it will be business as usual, but till then, let's have some fun." Ziva buried her face in the pillows.
"No DiNozzo." Her voice was muffled, suspiciously shaky.
"Hey, what's up Ninja? Is it our arrangement?" Tony kicked his shoes off and shuffled closer beside her.
"No Dinozzo." She repeated, shrugging off his hand.
"What then Zi? I'm not a mind reader." Tony pressed. Ziva sighed heavily, she rolled to face him, though her hair stayed over her face and hiding her eyes.
"I am not leaving the hotel Tony. The last time we were on a mission and I left the hotel..." Her voice trailed off, leaving Tony to put two and two together.
"Jenny..." He said softly, realising. "Ziva... Zi... you were not to blame. The Director would have lost us one way or the other."
"I still should have..." Ziva began.
"Don't beat yourself up Zi." Tony awkwardly shuffled her until she lay in his arms. "Jen knew what she was doing, and how it would end. You would have done the same thing."
"Mmm." Ziva replied, her fingers unconsciously curling a handful of his shirt. She lifted her head for a moment, staring off into the room. Tony knew she was seeing a tall, well-dressed redhead regarding the pair from near the mini bar. So vivid was Ziva's imagination Tony could practically smell the glass of bourbon in her hand.
"I am sorry Jenny." Ziva murmured, her voice thick.
"Rule Six Agent David. Never apologise..." Tony found himself speaking before his brain had connected to his mouth. The phrasing as much like their late Director as he could manage, and being Tony, it was quite a likeness.
"It is a sign of weakness." Ziva finished for him, she lay back against his chest, the scent of spirit faded, replaced by the cinnamon and orange of Ziva's shampoo. Her body was relaxed again, and they were quiet for a few more minutes.
"Lunch?" Tony queried at length. Ziva shifted to look at him.
"Yes, airline food is far from satisfying." Although she'd rolled a little to tilt her face to his, they remained in the close, cuddling position.
"You up to leaving the hotel, or should we get room service?" Tony asked, he pushed the thick hair from her face, and cupped her chin lightly.
"We should eat out I think." Ziva replied, "It was something of a superstition, like seeing a black cat or breaking a window."
"Mirror." Tony smirked.
"Well, that is probably a good thing it is not a window. I have broken many in my day." Both agents chuckled. By mutual, silent agreement they had begun to get ready to go out and find lunch.
"You saw her didn't you?" Tony asked, changing his shirt.
"It was not a ghost if that's what you mean. I do not believe in ghosts." Ziva replied.
"No... more like the The Tell-Tale Heart. You know... he hears the heart of the man he murdered beating under the floorboards." Ziva raised her eyebrows cynically. "Your conscious wouldn't let her go." Tony clarified.
"Hmmm." Ziva replied. Tony took that as a yes. "I think perhaps I needed a mission like the one in LA to say goodbye properly. She has gone now." Her voice was firm.
"Well, that's a relief. I'm not sure I could perform knowing Jenny was watching." Tony smirked. Ziva unsuccessfully hid a small chuckle. "What's so funny?"
"I was just considering what she would have said if she could have seen us before." Tony chuckled too.
"Probably that it was inevitable." Tony mused. "I know you and Gibbs think nothing is inevitable, but I think Jen saw things differently." He found their room key, and they headed out the door.
"And what about you, Tony?" Ziva queried. He held out his hand, and she took it. Tony interlaced their fingers, raising the joined fist to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of her hand.
"Me? Let's just say nothing is impossible." He smiled, tugging her hand gently and towing her toward the elevator.
Later, full and satiated in every sense, Ziva woke up enough to stretch languidly and wind herself around Tony's body. He groaned comfortably, running his hand down the expanse of olive skin.
"Hey Sweetcheeks," he murmured sleepily. They had achieved lunch and a little sightseeing, before returning to the hotel for dinner and 'dessert'.
"You need a shower My Little Hairybutt," Ziva responded, untangling herself as she ended up nose first in his armpit.
"You're no bunch of roses either." He informed her, taking in her sweat-slick skin. "Why don't we fix this together?" Ziva sighed and stretched again, arching her back elegantly. Tony leaned over to nip at the crest of her hip bones.
"Get off." She fought him away, not unkindly.
"I'm trying." He protested with a smirk, moving to her neck. He could tell her eyes rolled and chuckled into the curve of her shoulder.
"Tony..." Ziva protested half-heartedly.
"Ziva..." He mocked, not letting up in his teasing attack.
"I am serious DiNozzo," Ziva pushed him away. "First light tomorrow, Ziva "No Funny Business" David is back. If you do not wish to find yourself high and dry until we are back home, I suggest taking a shower."
"Spoilsport." Tony pouted.
"I did not say that we could not solve this together did I Tony?" Ziva got up, and paused in the bathroom door, regarding Tony over her shoulder.
"In that case," Tony sprang to his feet, nudging her into the bathroom. "Hit the showers Probie."