A/N: Seriously...a fireplace ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Day 9: Write about a fireplace.


He was a two-hour drive from D.C., probably double that given the weather and road conditions, but that didn't stop Tony from jumping in his car at 10 PM, unable to contact his coworkers due to a blackout back home. Not that he generally worried about them much when he was out of town. This time was different, though.

Two hours ago Ziva had hung up on him abruptly when they were about to raid a drug warehouse. He'd started calling and texting her half an hour ago. When he got no response he tried Gibbs. Then the rest of the team. Seeing the news report about the blackout eased his mind initially. Until he started thinking of all the ways that drug bust could've gone horribly wrong if the power had cut out at the wrong time.

So instead of spending another night at the convention hotel, he raced home as safely as possible—if any of them were in the hospital, he'd be completely useless if he ended up sharing a room with them because he crashed his car.

Tony parked in front of Ziva's apartment building, grateful for the single open parking space left at this time of night. Taking a deep calming breath—she would be fine, of course she would be—he turned the key and opened the door.

He breathed out a laugh at the barrel of the gun pointing in his direction, before it was quickly lowered. Ziva was sitting on the ground, leaning against the couch, a book in her lap. The flickering light coming from the fireplace illuminated her face in a warm glow.

She walked over to him with a frown on her face. "I didn't expect you back until tomorrow."

"Yeah," he sighed and closed the door behind him, dropping his bag next to it. "I may have panicked a bit when I couldn't reach…anyone after the drug bust."

Ziva didn't like it when people thought she couldn't handle a situation. But this time, she could chew him out all she wanted for being overprotective, as long as he got to fall asleep with her safely in his arms.

Her gaze drifted down his body, as if to make sure he was really there. And yeah, he probably looked a bit rumpled; he had practically fled the hotel room as if the devil was chasing him. She met his eyes as her hands grabbed his scarf.

"Everyone is okay," she said softly.

And then she smiled that soft little smile he loved so much, and tugged at his scarf, pulling his face towards her. He had been gone for less than two days, but he kissed her as if it had been two years.

When they broke apart, he shrugged out of his coat and took off his shoes while watching her throw more pillows and an extra blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Taking in the candles, the glass of wine, the crackling coming from the fireplace, he sat down next to her and said, "This is almost romantic."

Ziva raised an eyebrow, and he nodded towards the gun lying next to the wine glass.

"Blackouts tend to bring out the worst in people," she said casually.

He watched the shadows of the flames dance over her face and light up her eyes. They should light the fireplace more often, he thought, and kissed her neck lightly.

"Do they now?" he said and kissed her temple as she stared into the fire.

"Perhaps it is the lack of distraction television and the internet usually brings."

And he knew she was goading him now. Obvious in the way the corners of her eyes crinkled, the way she was trying not to smile, the way her face turned slightly towards him as he nuzzled her cheek and placed soft kisses on her jawline.

His sweater was suddenly too warm, the heat coming from the fireplace was only partially responsible. He removed the suffocating layer of fabric, dropping it on the couch behind him, and Ziva turned towards him with hooded eyes, dark with desire, a hand reaching out to run fingers through his hair.

He caressed her cheek. "They probably don't have a fireplace to set a more…philanthropic mood," he murmured.

Her throaty laugh stoked the fire within him, and he went willingly when she caressed his lips with hers while pulling him down on top of her.

And when he showed her his philanthropic side, the sound of the popping and snapping fire in the background, he concluded a fireplace was more interesting than any of his movies.