Title: Dry Spell
Disclaimer: see first chapter
Summary: He's not sure, but he thinks he hasn't had a real date since...he was re-stationed in D.C.
A/N: Final chapter! Sorry for the wait, but life caught up with me and the holidays were busier than I thought they'd be. Anyway, I posted a couple other things and finished 'Christmastime in the City,' so I hope that makes up for it. I've got some ideas up my sleeves, so I should be busy posting again. Yay! :D
It's not even Friday yet and he knows they'll be working the weekend, can feel it coming just as surely as he can feel the weather changing in his bad knee. It's gonna happen and, truth be told, he really doesn't mind.
He would like a little more sleep, though.
It's Friday night, the darkness is pressing against the windows, and he's about to collapse from exhaustion. His shoulder aches vaguely and he knows he's almost overdone it, knows he'll catch hell from all sides for overusing it so soon after removing the sling. At this point, though, he's too tired to care.
They all tromp wearily into the bullpen, groaning and complaining about their various aches and pains while dumping their gear and collapsing into their chairs. Gibbs has detoured for coffee, so they're safe for the moment, able to complain without risking concussions. It's been a long week and a difficult case and it's not over yet.
Glancing over at Ziva, he sees her exhaustion in the tired lines etching her face and the almost-softness of her posture and knows they won't be doing much tonight. She flashes him a look of muted affection from across the bull-pen and he smiles back, a warm look that sparks a small glow in her eyes. As she rests her forehead on her desk, he lets his head drop back to rest on the back of his chair and the memories unfurl.
...The taste of her golden skin...
...The shine in her eyes as his touch slowly drove her insane...
...The little girl delight as they threw snowballs at each other, playing in the snow the weekend before...
...Her flushed cheeks as he finally caught her, drawing her down into the snow next to him, feeling her smile against his lips...
He opens his eyes and catches her gaze as a smile blossoms across her face, awakening a rush of desire that causes him to almost groan as he remembers the night before and the way she'd come alive in his arms. There's a knowing glint in her eyes as she glances away and turns to her computer. He grins and does the same.
He's barely started working on anything when the elevator chimes and Gibbs strides into the squad room. Immediately his concentration's refocused as he waits for the verdict.
"Cancel all weekend plans. No one's leaving till we find out who did this."
He contributes to the obligatory moans and complaints, but catches Ziva's eye as he does so. Ever so subtly, she winks at him and he knows, without a doubt, she'll find some way to make up for their lack of time together. He leans back in his chair, watching her as she works and wondering what she has planned.
He does know one thing for sure: he doesn't think he'll ever mind working weekends again. In fact, he's pretty sure he's lookin' forward to it.