I was lying awake the other night, attempting to get to sleep at about half-midnight, because I had a load of inspiration. Ta-daa, this is it. :D I was also desperate to get this uploaded before the NCIS!Explosion tomorrow. I'm so excited!
Also, I'm so sorry I didn't reply to any reviews from last chapter. They were all so lovely, as well, but the site decided to make a load of my buttons disappear. ):
Enjoy!

Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS, when you get a sentence right in German, because it has the word 'anprobieren' in it, which contains the word 'probie'. :3

Listening to: Marchin' On by One Republic

As he lies in bed that night, still vaguely able to taste her upon his lips, he tosses and turns in fitful unrest.
On one hand, he can't believe what he's done. His actions could ruin absolutely everything between them, and even if they don't, he doesn't want to know what Gibbs will have to say if he finds out.
On the other hand, he can't get over how amazing it felt. He swears there was a searing feeling as skin touched skin- unlike anything he's ever felt before. And she kissed him back- she kissed him back. And the way she moved against him and how she kissed him after he'd pulled back and- oh, it's too much.

He clutches a pillow against his stomach, stifling a groan despite the fact that no one would hear it anyway.
He might not have known Ziva David for long, but she's worked her way under his skin quicker than anyone he's ever known. And that both scares him- really, it does- and makes him shiver in delight.

He drifts to sleep eventually, being plagued with thoughts until exhaustion wins out, and even as he dozes, he dreams of her. And an elevator. And more hidden moments.

.
.

She can't sleep. No matter how hard she tries, she can't stop turning and tossing until her sheets are all caught and twisted, and she stands up and sorts them just to give her something to do.
His face just won't leave her head. Those glinting, watering eyes, boring into hers with a look so loving yet so filled with... lust, she thinks, that she can't stop seeing them.

And his lips still seem imprinted onto hers. Several times, she's raised a hand and run her fingers over them, as if it'll erase the ghost of a touch. If anything, it just makes it worse.

She's so very glad he kissed her, and she has absolutely no regrets about kissing him back, so-called rule of Gibbs' be damned. Her only worry, therefore- the only thing genuinely keeping her from falling to sleep- is the niggling feeling that maybe, just maybe, he regrets it.
God, she hopes he doesn't.

Nevertheless, she closes her eyes eventually; her hand fisted into her pillow like it was his shirt, moments ago, and dreams of private moments, cool blue elevators, and soft soft lips upon hers.

It's sweet dreams all round.

000000

She arrives at work early the next day, a call from Gibbs summoning her just as she returns from her morning run.
Tony's desk is empty- unsurprisingly, she thinks with a fond smile- and so is his partner's, but a tired-looking McGee pokes some keys once in a while, and Gibbs has yet another steaming coffee laying by his computer. For some reason, seeing the routine this team has- and seeing how she sort of fits into their dynamic- makes her feel even more like she's come home.

Unluckily for her, Emily arrives before Tony does, meaning there's no time to talk to him whilst they could have been waiting. Instead, upon his arrival, Gibbs appears and forces them all to the elevator immediately.
She tries not to let memories from the day before cloud her vision during the short descent.

After they've collected all their evidence and have been back in the office for about an hour, she finally finds that both she and Tony have a spare moment. Walking to his desk, she sees him meet her eyes a little nervously, so smiles before opening her mouth.
"Do you want to grab dinner tonight? If we wrap this case in time?

His voice is low as he half-interrupts her, just loud enough for her and only her to hear, and she finds her skin prickling at the huskiness of his tone. Blushing, she nods a little shyly, opening her mouth to say something once more.
"Get this down to Abby."

Gibbs interrupts her this time, and she just sighs before picking the folder off Tony's computer, offering him a small, apologetic smile as she walks away.

She takes the elevator.

.
.

Abby's lab pounds out the same kind of music Ziva has discovered it nearly always does, and she walks through the door to find her scientist friend spinning on her lab chair, Caf-Pow! in hand.
"Abby! I brought you something." she says loudly, and Abby visibly snaps out of it, twirling to an abrupt halt without spilling a single drop of energy drink.

As the woman stands, Ziva finds herself slightly in awe of the way she shows no signs of dizziness. Abby takes the file being waved through the air steadily, speedily flicking through the contents before sending a satisfied smile in Ziva's direction.
"Anything else I can do you for?" she asks brightly, following her words with a loud slurp of drink.

Ziva furrows her eyebrows together in confusion, shaking her head a little.
"D'you need anything else?"

"Oh, right. Erm, no thank you, Abby." she replies, not fully listening, eyes focused on a picture of Tony on the wall. She swears, she can't get him out of her head even when she tries.

"You sure?" Abby's voice cuts through her blurred thoughts, sharp and bubbly and maybe too kind to not answer. "Only you look a little... distant."

Internally cursing herself, Ziva lies through her teeth, insisting she's fine, then smiles slightly and heads to the door. She only just stops herself from walking into someone. A man, in a snappy dress shirt, wearing a suit jacket and smiling brilliantly at her.

"... E-excuse me, Tony."
Her cheeks have gone bright red, and she quickly squeezes past her friend- more than friend?-, in order to hail the elevator.

The doors are closing just as she hears Tony saying
"I need some advice, Abs."

And for some reason, her throat is suddenly very, very dry.

.
.

Pressing a final button on her keyboard, she saves her report and smiles happily. Another case wrapped. At half eleven.
Her smile falters as she realizes it's definitely too late for dinner with Tony now.

As she stands, collecting her things, she sees a figure head to that familiar elevator, and she's not surprised upon entering it, to discover the very man she can't get out of her head.

The doors close, and she turns to face him as he speaks.
"I know dinner's out of the question, but are you up for a pizza at my place?"

She hastily agrees, and it's not because she's hungry.

000000

His arms are tight around her; his face is buried in her hair.
She's not sure how this happened. Most would blame it on over-exhaustion or drunkenness. But she can't- she's been awake for far longer than this before, and they only had one beer each.

No, the reason behind this is far more simple than that.
A joke, a laugh, a sobering silence followed by a hushed "Can I kiss you?" that she would never dare refuse.
The next thing she knows, there's a trail of clothes leading through to his bedroom and they're both gasping for air.

But that was a few hours ago now, and Tony is currently asleep, snuffling into her head and clutching sleepily at her waist.

She should be happy. This is the most loved; the most cherished she's felt in years. And yet she can't stop thinking of the things she's heard.

A reputation.
A disbelieving snort.
A "Wow, he talked to a girl who isn't a complete idiot. That's new."

They run round her head more than the way he had sighed her name, or whispered strings of words, or breathed deeply as he kissed her for the fiftieth time.
She can only focus on one thing.

It's all wrong.

Please don't hate me. D: It'll be less angsty next time. Thoughts?
-Kiera. x