Greetings, one and all.

This update comes to you through half-closed eyes (I am going to fall asleep. any moment now.), and with a smile. I had to read back my entire story (all 141 pages on word. wowzers...) just to get a detail right, and I realised that I haven't had any kissing scenes in AGES! hence, the numerous make out moments in this chapter :P you have been warned.
in reponse to Crazy-random-reader of hogwart, no, Ashley is not going to be a permanent character, just a minor character who is meant to add a little something to the story!

DISCLAIMER: I own Ashley (wow that sounds weird) but no other characters. :(

Chapter 34

Tony was freaking out. And by freaking out, he meant full-fledged, "the world is going to end" panic. Here he was, in his own house, armed to the teeth with everything the child may need (courtesy of Gibbs. Where did that man find all of that!?). But despite his well-supplied stock hold, he didn't feel any more prepared for battle. His secret weapon however, was yet to come. Or at least, that is what he hoped Ziva would be.

He had left the child (sorry, Ashley. Apparently not all children liked being called squirt, as he had discovered based on the disapproving look he had received from said child. That kid had the same look that Kate gave him whenever she did not approve. The resemblance was uncanny. It was rather frightening).

Just then, the door was flung open, and his knight in shining armour (traditional gender roles be damn) entered, and apparently not impressed.

"Where did you put her?" Ziva said, no conventional greeting in sight.

"Evening to you. She's in front of the electronic babysitter." At Ziva's confused look, he clarified, "the television. She's in the living room."

"That was your plan? Leave her in front of the television," Ziva said, the disapproval in her voice as clear as day.

"No, my plan was you," Tony said, shooting her a charming smile that was set to get him out of any trouble he happened to be in.

"Why did you assume I would be helpful? Because I am a woman?"
"No, because you run a dance school full to the brim with those little people for a living," Tony shot back, and the silence he received was reward enough. He had one this round.

"You are hopeless," she said, leaning in to give him a brief peck on the cheek, as if apologising for the lack of greeting earlier.

"So, what's her story?" Ziva said, picking up the plastic bag at her feet, and proceeding to unpack the contents onto the countertop. Tony hadn't even noticed she was carrying a bag in the first place.

"The dad was knifed earlier today. Her mother was visiting family friends, and is flying back tomorrow to pick the little one up," Tony said, his voice dropping so as not to be heard by said kid.

"Poor kid," Ziva said softly.

"I'm not a kid!"
The voice startled both adults out of their conversation, turning guiltily to look at the child who was apparently not been watching television all that time.

"Hello, my name is Ziva," Ziva said sending a smile at the young girl.

"Errmmm… T-T-Tiva?"

The girl was clearly struggling, tasting the strange mix of letters in her mouth like a food she had never tasted before.

"No, Ziva," Ziva corrected, and little girl muttered to herself until the letters came out properly.

"And who are you?" Ziva said.

"You already know," Ashley said. So the kid was clearly not co-operating.

"I would like to hear it from you," Ziva said patiently. There was a silence, where the little girl was attempting to psych Ziva out. But apparently there was something in Ziva's quiet confidence that made the little girl give in.

"I'm Ashley."

Damn, Ziva was good. She clearly had more talents than met the eye. And Ziva looked pretty talented, so that was saying something.

"So, do you like pasta?"

McGee sighed, sliding back down further in his seat. How come he was the one who always ended up in the van manning the equipment? There was Tony, inside with his beautiful fiancée, getting to actually sleep at night. But then again, Tony did have to look after the kid. OK, maybe McGee had got the better of the two evils…

Slipping on his headphones, McGee checked in with the various points stationed around Tony's apartment. It had been hard setting up security in the neighbourhood without receiving too many strange looks. Tony lived in one of those up and coming areas of town, one that was scattered with new houses, and houses in the process of being built. It wasn't ideal for surveillance, with multiply entrances and exits to the house, and no back door in case a quick escape was needed. On the plus side, the road was fairly quiet, with the only movement being the odd resident getting home.

McGee checked the cameras one final time, before deciding that if anyone did try to break in, they would be caught. In another window of his computer screen, he brought up the messaging service, and tried to patch himself into Abby's lab. But as the rings reverberated around the van, he soon realised that Abby was not in the lab, and had probably like any sane person turned in for the night. Sighing, he plucked his phone from his blazer pocket, moving to send her a message to say goodnight. However, someone somewhere clearly had other ideas.

His phone let out a shrill chirp, and McGee 's finger shot out to silence the noise and pick up.

"Hello?"
"Open the door," Abby said. He hadn't looked at the caller ID but apparently Abby had been thinking of him the moment that he had been. Like they were turned together, like a well-oiled machine.

McGee stood up to open the door to the surveillance van, and was surprised to see the woman herself there.

"Abby? What are you doing here?"

"Tiva are babysitting a kid. I wasn't going to miss it," Abby said. McGee hadn't hung up the phone, so Abby seemed to decide to take things into her own hands. Moving closer to him, so close that their breaths intermingled, and the temperature seemed to rise a few degrees in the van, Abby prised the phone from his grasp, and hung up the call, without ever breaking eye contact with him. Sliding her hands into his inside blazer pocket, she put the phone in, patting it gently as she closed it.

"Hi," she said softly, and McGee grinned.

Leaning down, he tilted her head up so that her lips would press into his just right. And as he clashed his lips down onto hers, he couldn't think of anything that could be more right. Abby groaned into his mouth, as he teased her with his talented mouth, gently kissing her but never engaging with her as he knew she wanted him to. He peppered kissed down the left side of her face, the gentle feathery kisses only working to drive her insane. As his kisses moved lover down, he suddenly strengthened the kiss, just as he hit that point on her neck which never failed to make her take a sharp breath, and pressed his lips fully against that spot, ravishing her so much she was certain that it was going to leave a mark. But Abby was far from a passive in this duel, and she pulled at his dark locks to steer his head back to her lips, where she sealed them over her own. He ran his arms up and down her sides, and she shuddered at the contact. With the warmer weather, Abby was able to throw off the layers that had covered her in the winter months, and now there were few layers between her skin and Timmy's talented hands. Hands that would never fail to send shudders down her body, and cause her body to arc in pleasure.

They withdrew after a long time, both suddenly more devoid of breath than they had frist been when they entered the van.

"Hi yourself," McGee said, his grin large enough that if threatened to encase his entire face.

"Do you see that?" Abby said, and at McGee's quizzical look, she explained, "Your ego just inflated. It now rivals Tony's."

McGee chuckled at his girlfriend's antics, and was about to lean in for another kiss when…

"You two! Stop playing grab-ass!"

Gibbs' voice came through the speakers of one of the screens, and both Abby and McGee turned sharply to stare at it. And true to their suspicions, Gibbs was there on the screen in front of them. And he looked angry.

"Abby, what are you doing there?"

"I'm going to stay the night. Keep McGee company," she said, lifting the bag in her hands up to the camera so Gibbs could see. McGee hadn't noticed that she'd even had anything with her, what with the two of them being so… preoccupied.

"No you're not," Gibbs said, and McGee could swear he felt the back of his head smarting from the phantom headslap Gibbs was giving him.

"Gibbbbbbssss!" Abby whined, and McGee eyes widened. If he said that to Gibbs, he would be dead meat.

"Behave," Gibbs said finally. Apparently Abby got away from this kind of thing.

"Love you!" Abby said cheekily, which pulled a grin from Gibbs, before he cut the connection off.

Abby plopped herself down on the leather seat next to him, unzipping her back pack and unpacking the contents onto the table.

"You love Gibbs?" McGee said, warily eyeing the objects coming out of Abby's bag (really, nunchucks?).

"Aww McGee," Abby replied, sensing McGee's jealousy, "I love you too!"

McGee grinned. He had always thought that he have to say "I love you" for Abby to say "I love you too". But Abby was never a conventional kind of girl…

Back inside the house, Tony had left the girls in the kitchen making pasta, as he took a quick shower. It was strange seeing Ziva in his kitchen, using his utensils, making herself so at home. And with a child added into the mix (pun intended), it was an almost domestic scene. And the scary part was that he could imagine all too well coming home to a similar scene, Ziva in the kitchen cooking with a little Italian-Israeli ninja kid. And though the prospect was frightening (imagine their kid… it would be the most stubborn little thing, but would be beautiful and charming, so could get away with murder. That kid would be trouble), it was strangely enough something that he could see happening one day. He would have never seen him as the kind of guy who would be into the whole family life thing, but he had never seen himself as the kind to get married. And yet there he was, engaged to marry a beautiful Israeli woman, who was as jaded and weighted as he was. So maybe kids weren't such a far cry after all.

But before all of that, he was planning in making an honest woman out of her. He wasn't going to lie and say that he was normally did things in that order, but Ziva made him want to do things right. She made him want to give her what she needed, and not what he wanted her to give him. Although there was always that fire, whether it was simmering beneath the surface, or was a raging inferno of passion. And that fire made it increasingly difficult to keep the promise he had internally made her. But he was going to do this. For once in his life.

Towel drying his hair, he wandered back into the kitchen, moving more by sense of smell than sight. Because damn, there was something in that kitchen that smelt really good.

"Now gently."

Tony heard Ziva's voice, a soft murmur, as she coaxed the little girl into stirring with a little less vigour. It was an amazing sight, Ziva with her hair bundled up as to not get in the way, and the little girl standing on a seat to reach the stove and stir whatever that pot contained.

"What's cooking, good looking?" he said, sweeping in and trying to nab a taste of whatever was in the bubbling pot. But Ziva slapped his hand away, and he whined like an injured animal.

"Go lay the table," Ziva said firmly, "we will be out in a moment."

Tony mock saluted Ziva, pulling a giggle from Ashley, who clearly saw Ziva as the favourite (traitor…). Tony gently bumped Ziva out of the way with his hip so he could reach the cutlery drawer, and scooped out everything that he needed.

Just as Tony finished placing the cutlery down on his scarcely used dining table, Ziva emerged from the kitchen, armed with two plates of pasta, and a small child. Said child was carrying another plate of pasta and some garlic bread.

As they collectively dug in (damn, Ziva was a good cook), silence fell upon the table, as Tony and Ashley tried to eat their food as quickly as possible.

"It will not disappear if you wait between mouthfuls," Ziva said, aiming her sentence at both of her companions, who both looked up guiltily with spaghetti falling out of their mouths. They were both such children. And she was marrying the man…

"So, do you live here?" Ashley said.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Ziva said, and Ashley dutifully swallowed her pasta before asking her question again. Tony was amazed at how maternal Ziva was, especially considering the fact she didn't have any children of her own (no matter how much Tony was daydreaming about a green eyed, brown haired ninja child). It was as if some kind of instinct had kicked in, brought on by the sudden contact with a child.

"No, I do not live here," Ziva replied, then she raised an eyebrow at Tony "in fact, this is the first time I have been here."

Tony was about to open his mouth to deny such a claim, but they closed it when he realised that she was right. He was rarely at home, but preferred to spend time with Ziva. He had never really had anyone in his house for a while now, what with him preferring to spend his free time at Ziva's apartment.

"That was not my fault. You never came," Tony replied, and Ziva rolled her eyes, causing Ashley to giggle once again.

A few hours and a soggy by bathed seven year old later, Ziva and Tony dropped down onto the couch, exhausted.

"Who knew such a small person could be so much work," Tony said, his eyes closed. Ziva just nodded in agreement, her head moving against the sofa making enough noise for Tony to know that she had heard him. Tony heard a rustling of movement, and then he felt a presence. On top of him.

Opening his eyes, he saw Ziva had manoeuvred herself until she sat on his lap. The mere feeling of her on top of him made all the thought about making an honest woman of her flee from his mind. Because with her pressed against her, leaning in so that they were touching almost everywhere was doing strange things to his pulse rate.

"What was wrong with your seat over there," Tony said, his voice deepening to the tone only reserved for when he was this close to Ziva.

"I like it on top," Ziva said suggestively, and Tony groaned as the onslaught of images in his mind came thick and fast.

Wordlessly Ziva dropped her lips into his, and Tony felt the fire that burned within him build again. Her lips pressed against his, moulding a shaping his lips until they were exactly the way she wanted them. Because she was in control. She was the one who more his arms until they were lying on her slim waist, and as he ran them up and down them through the thin layer of her T-shirt, she gasped at the feeling. How could he forget that her side were an erogenous zone for her, one of the most unusual, but the most sensitive area of her body. He detached his lips from hers, instead kissing down her neck as she arched back at the sensation. His hands were never still, tracing from her sides to her thighs, and moving from her outer to inner thighs in long dragging movements. And every little intake of breath, every shaky gasp told him everything that he needed to know. That was enjoying this all. Very much.

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