"Since when have you ever been insecure?"
"Don't do this."
"Do what?"
"I am begging you, please get off me."
"What are you going to do, if I don't?"
"I can't do anything. I am asking nicely, please."
"No," she shakes her head.
"I can't..."
"I know," she smiles devilishly.
"Then why are you still there?"
"Because karma's a bitch," she answers.
"Ziva..."
He looks at her with pleading eyes. She stares back at him, shamelessly. He realizes that she isn't wearing her necklace. She always wore it, even when she slept. This wasn't a good sign. She wasn't playing with him. She was, but... she wasn't going to let him off the hook.
She smiles, "Don't worry, the walls are soundproof."
"I..."
She leans forward, and presses her lips up, against his ear. "You wanted this, and you're not going to get out of it," she warns.
"You're taking this too far."
"Am I?"
"I don't want you to get hurt."
"Get hurt? You're handcuffed to the bed."
"I didn't mean physically. I might be taller, and outweigh you, but we both know that you could drop me to the ground in less than a second."
"That is true."
"You really want to do this?"
"You don't?"
"You know that I do."
"What's stopping you?"
"I am handcuffed to the bed."
"You've got a free hand."
"Ziva."
"If I uncuff you, will you run?"
"No."
Finally she climbs off him. She moves over to the nightstand. She stands with her back to him. He is unable to take his eyes off her. As she opens the drawer he realizes how serious she is. He notices that there are no lines under the silk nightgown. It wasn't much of a nightgown. It cut off just below her cheeks.
"You're not wearing underwear," he says out loud.
She doesn't confirm or deny. She simply dangles a key in front of him. She uncuffs him. She places the key back in the drawer. He notices that she has something in her other hand.
"What's in your hand?"
She smiles, and places the object in his hand. "You will probably be needing these."
He stares at the two green, foam ear plugs. His eyes lock on hers. He feels his pupils dilate.
"Although, they probably aren't going to block out all of the noise."
"I can't believe that we're actually doing this."
"Are you having second thoughts?"
"Does it look like I'm having second thoughts."
She grins, "Not at all."
"So why are we still talking about this?"
"You're the one still talking."
"Right. Is there anything I should know first?"
"Like what? I don't bite, or anything."
"Not what I meant."
"Are you asking if I've been tested?" she furrows her brow in confusion.
"No, I trust you. That isn't what I'm asking."
"What are you asking, exactly?"
"Is there anything I should, or shouldn't do?"
"As long as you let me be on top, we're fine."
"Nothing else?"
She racks her brain, as she looks into his eyes. She knew what he was asking. Finally she answers.
"Don't touch my neck. Don't kiss my neck," she reveals.
"Ok," he agrees.
She leans forward. She feels his fingers press against her back. She takes a deep breath, and then a leap of faith.
Later he finds her laying next to him, drifting to sleep. He carefully reaches for the blanket, on the floor next to the bed. He throws it over them. She scoots in closer. He lets her slip under his arm. She rests her hand, and her head on his chest. He pushes hair out of her face. She takes a deep breath.
"Go to sleep," he muses.
Within a few minutes they are both deep asleep. Both of them snore. They don't wake until morning turns to afternoon. He wakes up first. He finds her still snoring, with her head pressed against his chest. Her ear rests against his heart. He turns his head and looks at the clock. 1:26.
1:26 in the afternoon, on a Thursday. He was supposed to be at work. Instead he was here, in his partner's apartment. He was in her bed. She was lying on him, asleep. They were covered only by a single blanket, and nothing else. He just listens as she sleeps.
He notices her breathing change. He watches her face, as she opens her eyes. She looks up at him.
"Are you awake?" he questions.
"Mm hm," she murmurs sheepishly.
"You can go back to sleep, if you want."
"What time is it?"
"Almost one thirty."
"I'm starving."
"I can go get us something to eat."
"Ok."
"Can I ask you something first, though?"
"Yes."
"How long?"
"How long, what?"
"Has it been?"
"How long has what been?"
"When was the last time you had sex?"
"Why does it matter?"
"It doesn't, I'm just curious."
"A long time, almost two years."
"Oh."
"I just haven't been able to, no matter how much I wanted to."
"Why now? Why me?"
"Because I trust you."