They knocked out the dishes with only one small bubble-fight.
Initially, Ziva debated letting him do the laundry, but figured that he would paw through her lingerie and amuse himself while she managed to finish other chores. And she was right; his commentary on her red lace bra was merely a guttural sound that followed by intense google-eyes. She had chuckled to herself and walked by, feeling his eyes shift between her and the underwear rapidly.
"I am pooped," she said, slumping next to him on the sofa. Their bodies were the perfect picture of exhaustion and she allowed her head to loll onto his shoulder.
"Me, too!"
"Next time you will want to stay in Mexico, yes?" she teased.
He draped his arm around her, pulling her flush to him. "It's a close call, but if I had to pick my form of torture, I'd still want to be here," he said, feeling her smile against his shoulder.
"That is not something you should admit, Tony. I might actually take you up on it and have you help me clean every week."
"Every day if you need it, sweet cheeks."
"Ah ah," Ziva warned, wagging a finger at him. "Do not tempt me."
He chuckled and tilted his head so he rested his cheek against the crown of her head.
"Zi?"
"Mm?" she mumbled, her eyes closed as she rested against him.
His voice was uncharacteristically unconfident. "We both know I suck at this so, can you tell me what the rules are, here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Asking this is probably going to be the kiss-of-death, but I really don't want to screw up again, Ziva." He plowed forward. "You're my best friend."
Her lips twitched up in a small smile. "I do not know if I have been someone's best friend before."
"You're my best friend," he repeated with a small half-hearted chuckle. "God, Ziva, last year was a bitch. We barely spoke, and when we did it was…bad." he stumbled looking for the right word for their venomous interactions. "And then when I thought you were dead- " Tony lifted his free hand and scrubbed his face, trying to rub off the painful feeling that came with the memory.
"I am not dead," she said, knowing it was stating the obvious but offering what little help she could think of at that moment.
"I know," he whispered, turning and kissing the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her. "And I am probably more relieved by that than I should be considering we're 'just partners.'"
She chuckled. "Tony, we have been many things to each other. But we have never been 'just partners.' You know that."
"I do know that," he agreed, his fingers playing in her hair. "It's different now, too."
"Now that I am a citizen?" she asked, knowing it wasn't at all true, but trying to lighten what had become a heavy moment.
Tony grinned, hearing her jest. "Yes. The fact that I could see us being together for a really long time is only because you're a citizen. It has nothing to do with the fact that you're a brilliant woman, a kick-ass agent and – ya know – a little hot."
She chuckled and pulled away from him, turning so they faced each other. "I do not know which I should address first; you calling me only a little hot or us being together for a really long time."
He tried to take a calming breath but found it ragged and stuttering. "How about the second one?"
She nodded, shifting on the couch so her knees touched his thigh. "I think it is worth trying," she said simply.
He arched a brow as if to ask if that was all she had to say.
Ziva grinned slightly. "Well, I have known you for a while and I have not killed you yet. That is a good sign. And the fact that you have not tried to seduce me yet is also a good sign – I feel it means you respect me more than one of your average bimbos."
"Respect, yes. Also there's some fear."
She chuckled and shifted closer, their faces only a few inches apart. "Good. Fear is good."
He smiled, his fingers sliding into her hair again, his thumb cupping her cheek.
"What are we doing, exactly, Ziva? I think that some therapist would tell us we're skipping over some much needed conversations here."
"Yes, well, if you would prefer to talk instead of kiss, I can arrange that."
He moved quickly but gently, caressing her lips and savoring the feeling. They explored each other for just a few minutes, the kisses light and almost chaste.
When they pulled away, she regarded him cautiously, almost expecting him to turn tail and run from the deep end they were wading into. "I believe today we have said what needed saying."
"And tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow, we will say more – perhaps the only rule is that we must discuss the hard stuff, Tony, we cannot ignore it. We have spent too much of our lives being ignored by the people who are supposed to love us; we cannot do that to each other, too."
"Promise there will be more of this tomorrow, too," he said, placing another sweet but lustful kiss on her lips.
She chuckled against his lips and he felt her nod in agreement. Tony tightened the arm around her waist, and he pulled her closer, feeling her nestle into his lap.
Perfect fit.