Ok...so I haven't TIVA for AGES...so I am not 100 sure this is completely in character but...
For M E Wofford...although I don't think she deserves it what with that comment about me being like Patrick Swayze from Roadhouse, but she wanted TIVA smut so here...anything to shut her up!
Spoilers for all of season 6 so far, and hints at Judgement Day.
Ziva sighed and shut the blinds in her apartment. Everything felt new, different. And for once she couldn't get her head around it. Her mind swam with regrets, missed chances, but it always came back to her partner. His cocky smile infuriated and cause a shiver of something that she didn't even want to think about.
He had been pushing her lately, pushing her to tell him why she hadn't wanted to come back. But she had. Yes, there were things, people, she was leaving behind in Israel, but she had wanted to come back. She had missed McGee's easy smile and friendship. She had missed the warm smile that had pretty much been a permanent fixture on Abby's face until...Jenny. She had missed Gibbs and his unrelenting courage, his honesty and his implicit trust in her. Seeing him in his hometown had been an experience, seeing him soften slightly had not dulled her loyalty in the man who she trusted more than her own father. She had missed Ducky's stories and the warmth the old Scot had shown her.
She had pondered over Tony. To most people he seemed the same since he got off the ship. The same old Tony DiNozzo, outrageous flirt and relentless womanizer. But she could see the scars that lay under the surface, she was all to familiar with those kinds of scars. She had missed him, much to her own chagrin, she had missed him. Missed his open smile, his flirting ways, his constant movie references, his teasing, their bickering. She sighed again and picked up the wine glass that lay forgotten on the coffee table, carrying it to the kitchen she topped it up and took a sip. She let the warm wine fill her mouth before swallowing and letting it warm her insides. She shook her head slightly, Tony DiNozzo needed to get out of it.
Her hands swirled the water around the tub. She leant over and grabbed a bottle of bath oil from the far side and tipped a generous amount into the steaming water. She placed her wine glass on the side of the bath, and undid her jacket, slipping it off her shoulders and onto the floor and placing her side arm next to her wine. Her Mossad upbringing kicking in yet again. Next came her pants, sliding down her legs as she toed off her boots. She pulled her sweater over her head and discarded her underwear before slipping into the almost scalding water.
Steam and the scent of rose oil filled her nostrils as she took a deep breath and slipped beneath the water, enjoying the feel of weightlessness that came with the muted silence of being under water.
A dull knocked at the front door floated through the water and she lifted her head, wiping the water off her face. She scowled as the knocking continued and hauled herself out of the tub, grabbing her robe and wrapping it round her before picking up her weapon and checking the safety.
The knocking continued as she walked through the house.
"Alright by now." She wrenched the door open, irritatedly tightening her robe around her and scowling at the intruder, fingering the trigger of her side arm behind her back.
"Its already." Tony shook his head goodnaturedly.
"What's ready?" She furrowed her brow in confusion.
"Never mind...can I come in?" He said, barging past her, not giving her the opportunity to answer. She stood by the door for a moment, before turning and slamming it closed. She found him in the kitchen, the top half of his body, bent over, embedded in the refrigerator. He pulled out a beer and held it up triumphantly as she placed her weapon on the sideboard. He glanced at it and smirked. She shrugged.
"What are you doing here?" She asked.
"Looking for a beer." He replied, rifling through her drawers to find a bottle opener. He opened it and took a long pull on it.
"You run out?" She asked.
"Nope." She put her hand and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"DiNozzo...I am tired." She announced, hoping he would get the message and leave. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged.
"Me too." He said, and there was something in his tone of voice that had her knowing there was something else he was tired off.
They stood, on separate sides of the kitchen, neither of them knowing what to say but wanting to say so much. Tony broke first.
"I'm sorry." He said suddenly. She snapped her gaze to him, asking why silently. He shrugged again.
"For pushing, about why you didn't want to come back..."
"Tony..." She started to interrupt, wanting to tell him that she did, but he held his hands up and pushed himself off the counter, taking a step towards her.
"No...let me. There's no Gibbs here, I can apologize." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry I didn't call." He blurted out. She looked surprised at the admission.
"I wanted to." He said, taking another step towards her. She wanted to reach out, , to comfort him with words and hands, to assure him it was ok, she could have called too, but she gripped the counter behind her harder and watched him bridge the gap between them.
He was the first to reach out, ruffling her hair. She sighed and tried to calm the wild curls that the water had caused, but the amusement at the familiar gesture was evident in her eyes.
He opened his mouth to speak again she placed her hand over it.
"It is ok, Tony. I do not need you to explain. I understand." He nodded and she felt him grin. She snatched her hand back, aware that his childish sense of humour would have found it funny to lick her palm and he thought of it made her skin tingle. She was suddenly aware of her state of dress and pulled the robe tighter round her. His gaze flickered down to her cleavage and back up to her eyes.
"Nice robe." He leered. She pushed his shoulder playfully and he pushed her back. He grinned mischievously and she wanted to pull him to her. The grin had been one of the many things she had missed and she hadn't seen it turned towards her nearly enough since he came back.
She placed a hand on his face gently, almost tentatively and he froze, all the humour rained from his eyes and they darkened. Without knowing what was happening, his hands were under her arms and lifting her up on to the counter. She let out a surprised grasped but was silenced by his mouth covering hers and his fingers winding into her hair.
The shock had her frozen to the spot, unable to reciprocate, unable to breathe until her pulled away and winced as if expecting her to kill him with the cord of her robe.
"Sorry." He mumbled. She didn't need to hear anything else. She pulled him back and wrapped her legs around his waist, trapping him between her thighs.
"Stop talking." She demanded and covered her lips with his, tasting the beer and something uniquely DiNozzo that she couldn't put her finger on. His hands tightened in her hair and dragged her head away, leaving her neck exposed. A hand left her hair and a thumb ran along her jaw, pressing into the delicate skin under her chin, almost forcing her to lift her head as his mouth left hot, open mouth kisses down her throat.
He nipped at her collar bone and she slipped off the counter, making sure every inch of her body dragged against his. His sharp intake of breath told her that her movements had the desired effect.
She looked up at him, searching his face any hints of drunkenness, of uncertainty. He stared back at her.
"What?" He asked. She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, to ask him if her was sure, to ask demand that the hell he was playing at, if he was just seeing how far she would let him go. She knew he desired her, she seen the looks when he thought she wasn't looking. And she, herself, had wondered many times what it would be like to kiss that smug smile off his face, or what it would feel like to lose herself with him buried inside her. But his face showed no signs of teasing, no sign apart from the faint linger hint of fear when she had pushed him away, she closed her mouth, unable to voice her thoughts.
His hand still wound in her hair gave a gentle tug, which was accompanied by a uncertain grin.
"What's up sweet-cheeks?" His voice was easy, gentle and full of affection.
"I am confused." She admitted.
"Its called a kiss...us American's use it to show affection." He said. She rolled her eyes.
"Why now?" She asked. He stared down at her, his hand unwinding from her hair and falling to his side. She mourned the loose of contact.
"I really meant it when I said I wanted to call." He held a hand up when she opened her mouth to speak. "I just couldn't. Hearing your voice would make it all real. And I managed, a couple of times, to make myself believe everything was a just a really bad dream." She curled her hand around his wrist, her fingers dancing over his pulse.
"Plus...I don't think I could have voice how much I missed you." He said. She stared at him. Anthony DiNozzo was admitting a weakness. She nearly laughed but the sincerity in his eyes and voice had the laughter dying in her throat.
The next thing she knew, his mouth was over hers again and he was pushing her backwards, pining her between the door frame of the kitchen and his body.
A thigh slid in between hers and there was nothing she could do to stop herself from rolling her hips against it, feeling just how much he wanted this.
She extracted herself from his grasp and smiled as the uncertainty crept back into his eyes. She grabbed his hand and tugged it, pulling him towards the bedroom. Realization dawned on him and he practically pushed her inside before kicking the door shut and turning to her with a look that could only be described as predatory.
She grinned and undid the knot at the waist of her robe, letting it drop to the floor, showing him exactly what she was wearing underneath it. His eyes widened when he realized it was nothing.
"If I had known you were naked under there...I would have moved quicker." He said, his voice husky with undisclosed want. She grinned and hooked a finger at him. He didn't need to be told twice and was in front of her in an instant.
Her hands wormed their way in between their bodies and undid his buttons one by one, too slowly for his liking. She had undone the top three when he wrenched himself away from her and pulled it over his head.
He pulled her tightly to him, so close that he could feel her elevated heartbeat each through his chest and feel her nipples pressing into him. Her hands ran down his back and her fingers slid between his pants and his skin, nails grazing slightly.
He reluctantly pulled away again and fumbled with his own belt before she slapped his hands away with a grin and released him of his pants, pushing them and his boxers down his thighs as he toed off his shoes. He reached down and pulled off his socks before trapping her against his body against and walking her backwards toward the bed.
It took a couple of seconds of bumped noses, tangled limbs and giggles before he had settled himself in top of her and was looking down at her with need. She felt her breath rush out of her under the weight of his stare and snaked a hand around his neck and pulled him down, wrapping her legs around his waist and gasping with him as he slid into her.
He lay frozen at the feel of her warmth surrounding him and the way that they fit so perfectly together before her breathing his name in his ear had him moving, forgetting everything except the need to hear the noises coming from her throat again and again.
It was the way she bit on his shoulder, her fingers digging into his back that had him thrusting harder, pushing his way into her sense and holding her as she rode through her own orgasm before doing the same for him as he shuddered above her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, inhaling the heady mix of roses and sex and Ziva.
He rolled off her, the noise she made had him almost burying himself back inside her, but she settled herself against him, as they both struggled to get their breathing back to normal. Her contented sigh made him wrap his arm around her, linking the fingers on his free hand with hers resting them on his chest.
"I have always wanted to do that." He confessed and she didn't need to lift her head to know that he was smiling.
"Me too." She said and his arms tightened around her and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. It was the last thing she felt before sleep called to her.
They lay, limbs tangled around the sheets and each other, her breathing had evened out and she was sleeping peacefully and he couldn't shake the feeling that it had been a while since she had.
He brushed an unruly curl from her face and pressed a kiss to her temple. He had turned up at her door to apologize, his feet carrying him here before he knew what was happening, but this outcome had been far better. Maybe not everyone was alone. Maybe some things were inevitable.