November 8th, 2005
Tony hadn't slept much the night before. He spent a good amount of his time laying awake, fantasizing about the night ahead of him. Simultaneously delighting in it and dreading it. He would be spending the night with a gorgeous woman, in a five-star hotel room, and their only real responsibility would be to listen for what would probably be a phone call. Abby would trace it, they'd find the guy, end of case. But everything else up until that point would be just him and his striking Israeli counterpart, living it up like only two married assassins could.
He still wasn't quite certain how much of it would be real. What exactly she would let him do to her. Maybe he could get away with his hands on her ass. Or with his lips adorning her breasts with feather-light kisses. Maybe, just maybe, he would see how close he could get with his fingers, to gliding them up in between her legs… maybe he could get close enough to feel the heat radiating off of her. Maybe even closer still. After all, she had only said that they didn't have to have sex. Never that she didn't want to.
Damn her, and her elusive ways. Her suggestive, elusive ways.
He also wasn't too wild about the idea of Gibbs watching their every move. At least he and Ziva would have a few hours to themselves before McGee wired the place. But even then, chances were that their contact had eyes on them as well. It was odd, knowing that you were being observed. Particularly doing something so intimate. But Tony had shared a frat house with twenty other guys back at Ohio State. Privacy was hard to come by then. So he wasn't exactly unfamiliar with the idea of potentially being watched. Hell, if he had waited for every private moment back in his college days, his frat brothers probably wouldn't have given him the nickname that they did. And he probably would have exploded or something from chronic sexual tension. He used to experience that feeling of being perpetually horny quite a bit, in his youth. Now it really only resurfaced when concerning certain… Israeli matters.
Tony concluded that if the chance presented itself, he would have no problem making love to Ziva, even if it resulted in a thousand head slaps. They would just have to make it look like they were faking it if they weren't, and like they weren't if they were.
Simple enough.
Still, the next morning, after Ziva gave him one of her knowing looks across the bullpen, he had trouble looking at Gibbs in the face.