For several long moments, Tony gave in to his basic impulses. His whole self seemed focused on the feel of Ziva's hungry lips against his own and the weight of her body pressed desperately against him. Then the thought of Gibbs intruded into his brain. Gibbs - who had told him to take care of her. Gibbs - who would be furious if he could see just what a mess Tony was making of that duty. Tony pulled away and brought his hands up to cup Ziva's face and make sure she was looking at him.
"Ziva, this is wrong. You don't know what you're doing and I won't take advantage of you this way."
She just stared at him, that desperate look still in her eyes. "Help me, Tony ... please," she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. "I need you ... I need this. Please, help me."
Her plea was so heartfelt it seemed to come from the very core of her being and it made Tony remembered a conversation he once had with Ducky. He had asked the medical examiner and forensic psychologist why so many people used sex to deal with trauma and death.
"For many people, sex is the ultimate affirmation of life. When faced with a significant loss, it can be a way to remind one's self that life goes on," the older man had explained.
"That can't be healthy," Tony had objected.
"Surprisingly, Tony, it often is. The act of love can take you outside yourself, lift you above your current problems, perhaps even provide a respite from them. It reminds you that whatever else might have happened, you yourself are still alive. There is also a medical reason for it. Sex releases endorphins, the body's natural pain killers and mood elevators. Strangely enough, engaging in physical relations during a time of crisis can be a form of self medication and an entirely healthy response."
Tony made a snap decision. Maybe Ziva was right, maybe this was exactly what she needed. Besides, he was too afraid that if he did not give it to her she would insist on going out and finding someone who would, and the consequences of that might be disastrous. Far, far in the back of his mind he also acknowledged that it would not be a hardship to go along. Despite their often contentious relationship, Tony had always been attracted to his partner, and the evidence of that was currently straining against the zipper of his jeans.
Never letting his eyes wander from hers, Tony used one hand to brush the hair from Ziva's face, running his hand through her tangled curls and gathering them at the back of her neck. Then he bent over and kissed her forehead. Moving lower, he brushed his lips against first one eye than the other, causing her to close them. With a gentle exhalation, he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her again, trying all the while to will his life and strength into her, as if the kiss was a form of resuscitation. Gently, he thought, I will go slowly and gently and give her no reason to regret this once she has recovered.