A/N: This chapter comes to you after a loooong break because LittleSammy was very kind, and I promised her this about two months ago. Strong M rated content below. I mean it. If you came here because you're enjoying In Transit, this is not the same kind of story. But if you came here because of Heat Wave, well, you're probably exactly where you're supposed to be.

And this is completely out of cannon. And this is more of a friends-with-benefits thing than a romance.

Disclaimer: So disclaimed, baby.

A week later, Tony was with McGee in the bullpen, tasked with making calls to the friends and acquaintances of a missing ensign. Gibbs and Ziva had left an hour before to talk to the ensign's ex-girlfriend, and frankly Tony was surprised that they hadn't returned. He'd made a few comments to McGee about crazy and/or uncooperative witnesses on this case, but McGee didn't feel like playing and Tony was getting bored.

That was, until Ziva walked back in.

Tony was on the phone to the manager of a boat shop the ensign worked at for a few months when the elevator dinged and his partner stepped into the bullpen. With his first glance at her, Tony tuned out whatever the manager was saying. His hot Israeli partner—the one he was sort of secretly obsessed with doing 'favors' for of late—was soaking wet. Her black suit pants were soaked. Her hair was soaked. Her green shirt was soaked and, more importantly, clinging to her.

"Hello?" Tony heard in his ear.

"I'm sorry, I'm going to have to call you back," he told the witness, and quickly hung up as Ziva dumped her backpack beside her desk with a sigh. Tony looked over to McGee, just to make sure that he wasn't imagining this, but McGee only raised an eyebrow of confirmation at Tony. They both turned back to Ziva.

"Ziva," Tony drawled, "did you do something different with your hair?"

Fearing knives being thrown and paperclips being wielded, McGee winced and sank further down in his seat. But his fear was misplaced, as Ziva ran a hand through her wet curls and let out a small laugh.

"We questioned the ex-girlfriend," Ziva told them, seemingly oblivious to the effect that droplets of water sliding into her shirt was having on Tony, in particular. "She did not appreciate our interest."

"Garden hose?" McGee guessed.

Ziva shook her head. "Swimming pool."

McGee paused to let Tony take the next question, but it appeared that the senior agent wasn't really interested in talking right now.

He asked, "Gibbs?"

"Taking a shower," Ziva replied, then walked over to Tony's desk. "May I borrow your shirt?"

The whole situation was scrambling Tony's brain, and he looked down at the shirt he was wearing with confusion. "Uh…"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "The spare one in your bottom drawer, Tony," she spelt out. "I have jeans in my locker, but took everything else home on Wednesday to wash."

The corner of Tony's mouth lifted as he regained his power of speech. "And you don't want to borrow something with a skull and crossbones motif from Abby?"

The request was becoming a pain Ziva didn't have the patience for, so she turned her back on Tony and stepped towards McGee. "Fine. McGee, would you have a shirt I could borrow?"

Before McGee even had a chance to open his mouth, Tony cut him off.

"You can borrow mine," he told her, as if it had never been an issue. And it wasn't, really. He was just flustered by the thought of Ziva wearing his shirt. It was so…morning after. And they hadn't had the night before yet.

He opened his bottom drawer, and his hand connected with Ziva's as she bent over and reached in to take the spare shirt. He pulled his hand back and raised his eyes to look at her, and for three glorious seconds, he found that he had a clear view inside her wet top at her wet chest and bra. Then the moment was over, as Ziva stood up, kicked his drawer shut and gave him a smirk.

"Thank you," she said, and then headed for the elevator. "I will be right back."

Tony watched her back until she disappeared into the elevator, and his mind raced over what the hell she'd meant by that smirk. Had she caught him looking down her top? And did the smirk mean she didn't care? Was it a silent comment on his predictability? He sighed to himself and threw his pen down, frustrated by his sudden inability to read her. No matter what she had meant by it, she'd just given him another epic Ziva fantasy on a platter.

Twelve hours later, Tony dragged his tired body into Abby's lab. He, Ziva, McGee and Gibbs had been up for 26 hours looking for their missing ensign, and now that they'd interviewed everyone they could think of, Gibbs had granted them all a three-hour break. It wasn't enough time to go home for a proper sleep, meal and shower, but it did allow for a nap and a snack. So Tony had headed for the nearest McDonalds for a sausage and egg McMuffin, then went straight to the lab, stopping only to grab a Caf-Pow sweetener.

"Mornin', Abs," he said, his voice now lower and scratchier with his tiredness.

Abby spun around and gave him a disgustingly perky smile. Tony knew it wasn't the artificial perky that came from Abby staying up all night and fuelling herself with caffeine. This was real, honest to God morning perky.

"Hey, Tony!"

"You got home last night?" he guessed.

Abby nodded. "You didn't?"

He shook his head and handed over the Caf-Pow. "Can I crash at your pad for an hour or two?"

Abby tried and failed to bite back a smile. "I don't mind, but Ziva's already in there."

Tony took the muffin out of the take out bag and shrugged. "Whatever," he sighed. "I'm too tired to fight her."

He headed through Abby's inner office and slowly opened the door beside the ballistics lab that led to Abby's makeshift sleeping quarters. Without windows it was dark as night inside, but the light coming in through the door allowed him to see Ziva's head lift from the pillow to look over at him.

"Please do not tell me that Gibbs wants us back already."

The thought that their break might be cut short made Tony shut the door firmly behind him and lock it for good measure. He was not going to leave this room until he'd had a few hours away from Gibbs.

"He doesn't," he assured her, dropping his voice to suit the darkness in the room. "You stole my idea. Move over."

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and set the alarm for two hours, while he simultaneously toed off his shoes and took a bite of his muffin. Multitasking after 26 hours on the job? Pretty impressive, he thought.

"What are you eating?" Ziva asked, almost dreamily.

Tony looked between her shadow and the muffin in his hand. Man, he must really like her to share food with her right now. He took another bite and then leaned over to hand the remaining half to her. "Here."

"Tony," she moaned, in a way that sounded far too inviting for his liking.

"Don't say I never bought you anything good," he warned as Ziva made quick work of the muffin.

He got to his knees at the foot of the futon mattress on the floor, and gently smacked her butt in a second request for her to make some room on the king single. This time she shifted further to the edge to make room, and lay on her side. Tony flopped down beside her, facing her, and after some shuffling they ended up resting against each other, his arm over her waist, and their legs tangled. It wasn't as if the single bed gave them a lot of room to spread out, right?

Now settled, Tony looked at her across the pillow. In the dark of the room he couldn't be completely sure, but he thought she had an amused smile of her face.


"Nothing," Ziva replied, her breath barely tickling Tony's chin. "Thank you for sharing your muffin."

There was something in her tone that made Tony think that the weak double entendre was deliberate. "If I can't share my muffin with you, who can I share it with?"

Ziva snickered, and shifted again. Closer, he was sure of it. Her chest was now firmly against his, and despite his exhaustion just moments ago, he now felt very awake. He took a chance by running his hand over the curve of her waist, and then plucked at her shirt between his thumb and forefinger.

"This looks good on you," he told her. He was, frankly, appalled at his amateur attempt at flirting, but Ziva didn't seem to mind.

Her voice came back, deeper and softer, just an inch from his face. "Really? I thought you seemed fond of what I was wearing before this."

Tony smiled over the slightest of winces, knowing she had definitely caught him staring in the bullpen. But she hardly sounded irritated. "It was a really good look for you," he admitted.

"It seemed like a good look for you, too," she returned, sounding amused.

Tony didn't think she was looking for an apology, so instead he pushed it a bit further. "Worth dying over," he said, and squeezed her hip.

Ziva chuckled as she recalled the conversation years ago that he was referring to. "I'm flattered you think so."

Tony snorted. "It's given me enough Ziva fantasy fodder for another month." It was true, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he couldn't believe he'd actually said it. "Did I say that out loud?"

Ziva was quiet for long enough to make him panic that he was about to get a karate chop to the neck, but then she pushed herself up on her elbow and swung her leg over his to roll him to his back and lie on top of him. Surprised, Tony's hands nonetheless settled on the flare of her ass as he felt his heart rate pick up. He bit back a groan as his body reacted to the delicious feeling of soft, warm Ziva on top of him.

"A month?" Ziva questioned. Her face was hovering right above his, causing her hair to hang down and tickle his cheeks.

"Now it's more like two," he said honestly.

In response, Ziva arched her back to make her hips press into his, and then lowered her head. She gave the sensitive skin on his neck, right below his ear, a lick, and then a soft kiss. Tony inhaled sharply and dug his fingers harder into her through her clothes.

He desperately tried to think of the terminology they'd been using to refer to their secret liaisons in the last two weeks. "So, uh, you want me to help you out with something?"

His question got him another kiss on his neck. "Do you mind sacrificing another half hour of sleep?"

Tony weighed it up for all of two seconds. "Ummm, I'll make do," he said quickly, and then flipped her under him without warning. He pressed his thigh between her legs, making her arch up and groan, and he felt her fingers dig into the back of his shoulders.

Just as she'd done to him, Tony lowered his mouth to her neck and started brushing his lips along the soft skin. Propping himself up on one elbow, he dropped his other hand to her waist and then slowly drew it up her side. He paused just under her breast, pressing his palm against her ribcage as he drew his head back. He couldn't see her expression clearly but could feel her hot breath on his chin. Despite the position they were in, and the way she curled herself around him willingly, he still felt a flash of concern.

Somehow, he found the level head to give her a chance to stop it. "You should feel free to stop me if…"

"I trust you, Tony," she cut in, telling him plainly—and with a hint of frustration—that she was as fine with this as she had been the previous two times.

Tony literally groaned in relief, and a little jolt of happiness went through him. There was something about that statement that gave him a ridiculous sense of pride, but he wasn't sure why, and his cock was now too awake to allow him to delve into the psychology of it. The thinking could come later. Now was the time for action.

His mouth went back to her neck, and he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin under her ear, causing her to gasp and grip his shoulder harder. He started dropping warm kisses up and down the column of her throat, adding a lick here, a suck there, a nibble over her pulse point, but nothing so hard that it would leave tell-tale marks. Ziva sighed into his ear and closed her eyes, letting herself focus on the feel of his lips, the rough wetness of his tongue and his welcome weight pinning her down. She rolled her hips against his thigh, reminding him that her neck was not the only part of her that required attention, and he pressed down with his hip in acknowledgement. Patience. She had to have a little patience.

Tony's hand skimmed over her breast, making her shiver, before his fingers went to the buttons of his shirt on her body and started popping them open. When he met the waistband of her jeans, he gripped the shirt in his fist and tugged it free. He undid the last two buttons and spread one side of the shirt open, then rested his hand low on the tiny curve of her belly.

Ziva felt her skin erupt in gooseflesh, although she couldn't tell if it was because of the cool air hitting her bare skin, or the knowledge that it was Tony who was undressing her. She took a deep breath, drawing in a lungful of Tony's scent, and the low throb between her legs suddenly got stronger. As he started pushing his palm up her torso, his mouth went lower to kiss along her collarbone. A sigh escaped her lips and she slid her hand from his shoulder into the short hair on the back of his head. She gripped the strands gently as he explored her skin with his mouth, and she found herself torn between lying back and enjoying it, and pushing him down further to where she ultimately wanted him. She decided to wait it out, deciding that the journey would be almost as good as the final destination.

Tony pushed his hand slowly all the way from her belly to her throat, trying to memorize the feel of her soft skin. It was only when his hand started its journey downwards again that he realized that he's made the trip without encountering a single obstruction. His cock twitched at the thought, and he rested his hand heavily between her breasts as he lifted his face from her chest to hover over her.

"Have you been walking around all this time in my shirt without a bra on?" He barely recognized the strained, gravelly voice as his own.

The voice sent a sharp stab of pleasure between Ziva's legs, and then she lifted her head just far enough to brush her lips against his. "You only just noticed that?" she breathed. "I think I might be insulted."

Tony slid his hand to the left to cover her breast with his warm palm. She sucked in a shuddering breath as shivers ran through her.

"Forgiven," she groaned.

Tony smiled at finally finding a way to make her quickly back down from an argument. It was a shame that he probably wouldn't be able to use it in the bullpen, but with any luck, it would come in handy at some point in the future.

He dropped his head so that he could kiss her mouth, and he hoped she wouldn't pull back. As intimate as they'd gotten in the last two weeks, their kisses had been quite brief and gentle, and they hadn't sated his desire for her. But Ziva kissed him back with even more enthusiasm than he'd shown her, and she pushed her tongue into his mouth and tightened her grip in his hair. He let himself go, kissing her without restraint like he had always wanted to, and when she moaned into his mouth, he couldn't help the answering moan or the thrust of his hips against her thigh. His head suddenly filled with the hundred fantasies he'd built around her over the years, and he was almost overwhelmed by all the thoughts of what he wanted to do to her. Kissing her like this was just one of them. He'd be able to tick off at least a couple more tonight.

He pulled his mouth from hers before his lungs exploded from the lack of oxygen, and dropped his head to the oh-so-soft skin of her breast. Ziva let out a cry akin to the one that was burned into his memory from their adventures in the locker room, and he resolved to get her to make that noise at least once more before the alarm on his cell phone went off. As his mouth got to know her breast, he shifted himself half off her to make room for his hand sliding down, down, down and between her legs to cup her. Even through her jeans, he could feel her burning hot and growing damp. Her hips lifted off the mattress as she sought a firmer touch, and her fingernails dug into his shoulder.

"Yes," she groaned.

His reply was muffled against her flesh, and he started drawing slow circles over her jeans. The hand in his hair got tighter, and he pressed his fingers a little harder against her, like he'd learned she liked. Her hips rose again to meet the touch, and Tony swore she got even hotter. He felt a little buzz of anticipation at the top of his spine as he ran his tongue around her nipple. Enough of this over-the-clothes business, he decided, and slid his hand up just far enough to pop the button on her jeans, and draw the zipper down. His fingertips found the edge of her underwear and he slid his hand inside them as Ziva let out a soft, shuddering cry.

"Oh, my God," he said into her breast, as his fingers encountered burning hot, slick flesh.

Ziva didn't know why he was crying to his deity when she was the one having the experience. The exploration of his fingers made her thighs feel weak and shaky, and she raked her fingers into his hair as she moaned his name. She couldn't keep her hips still as he stroked her, and when he pushed two fingers inside her, she had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop herself for yelling out. God, she loved him touching her like this.

Tony looked up when she reacted, but he could barely see her in the dark. He wanted to watch her face as he did this to her. Her expression had been one of the hottest things about each of their previous liaisons, and he felt almost robbed that he wouldn't get to see it this time in the dark room. But today was all about Ziva, and if she wasn't bothered by the dark, he wouldn't be either. He just wanted her to enjoy it.

Almost as soon as he'd had the thought, Tony lifted his head further and stopped what he was doing. Jesus, this really was for her. He didn't even care that he probably wouldn't get anything in return. He was honestly going to get off solely on making her come. Had that ever happened to him before?

"What?" Ziva demanded, still managing to sound threatening even as she panted.

"Nothing," he lied. "Just thought I heard something."

"You locked the door, yes?"


He stalled further discussion by sitting back on his heels and grabbing the waist of her jeans and underwear in both his fists. Ziva lifted her hips, and he didn't bother being gentle when he yanked them both down and off her legs. Ziva clearly wasn't interested in gentle right now, and he was too eager to get down to business that he wasn't sure he would have been able to be anyway.

He ran his hands from her ankles up her shins, and once he hit her knees his touch moved inwards, to the unfathomably soft skin of her inner thighs. She bent one of her legs to the side, opening herself with seemingly no hesitation, and the scent that hit him made his head spin and his cock even harder. He got down on his belly on the floor to lick a path up the inside of her thigh, and he felt her muscles tense at the tickle. Above him, Ziva let out a sigh that was all yes and no hurry up, and he lay one of his palms low on her belly. The fingers of his other hand trailed over her lips for a moment, making her wait just that little bit longer before he moved in and gave her a long, firm lick from bottom to top.

Ziva's spine arched off the mattress like she'd been shocked, and she cried out as her hand returned to the back of his head. He barely needed the encouragement though, and got to work in earnest, drawing his tongue over her perfectly sensitized flesh. Just as he had with his fingers, he got to know the touches she loved with his tongue and lips. Flicking her there made her moan like that, sucking her here made her cry out like this. Nudging her over and over made her pelvis shake and reset her language to Hebrew.

He slid two fingers inside her again and crooked them as he went in search of the angle he'd found the other day that had set her off. It didn't matter to him if it took a while to find it. She was so hot, so wet, so into it that he thought he could do this for hours. Pity they only had about two and a half spare.

Ziva formed half a thought to send a fruit basket to every woman who came before her in thanks for teaching him how to do this, but then he flicked her again and she abandoned complex thought for the next little while. Instead, she just let herself feel and react. She had complete trust in him in this, and she knew she didn't need to stay on guard.

She didn't really know how long he kept her in a state of restless bliss. She wasn't aware of herself crying and moaning his name over and over as she shook under his mouth. All she knew was that too soon, she was feeling the painfully sweet pressure rising within her, and Tony was pushing her harder towards release rather than backing off. She would have protested, but another part of her thought that if he strung it out much longer, she would have burst into tears.

She grabbed at the pillow under her head and brought it over her face just in time to muffle the scream that tore from her as his tongue passed one more time over the raw bundle of nerves and sent her shattering into pieces.

Tony held the touch, making the wave last as long as possible for her until she slowly lowered her hips to the ground, and her thigh muscles under his hand relaxed. He released his mouth's hold on her and then started licking her very, very softly as she contracted around his fingers. His painfully hard cock, now pressed against the floor, was screaming at him to bury himself inside her and feel that contraction where he really wanted to, but Tony exercised every last molecule of restraint he had to ignore the instinct. When that happened—and it would—he wanted to be able to look at her. Because he was determined to memorize every single detail of her face and body when he made her scream again.

Gently, he withdrew his fingers, and when he felt her body go slack, he started very slowly kissing his way over her thighs, her hips, her belly. He'd barely made it to her breasts when Ziva came alive again, wrapped herself around him, and flipped him onto his back. The heat coming off her body made him flush as she crouched over him on her elbows and knees, and her face hovered above his.

"Thank you," she said, her voice like sandpaper as her breath touched his lips.

His hands found their way under his shirt to slide along her back. "No problem. I like being helpful to you."

She let out a noise halfway between a snort and a moan, and then brought her lips down hard on his. Her tongue pushed into his mouth again, and Tony wound his arms around her to draw her body down, flush against him. Her pelvic bone hit his overly hard cock, making him literally wince and gasp, drawing breath out of her lungs. Ziva moaned into his mouth in reply, and he felt the welcome reverberation through his chest.

He became so lost in the kiss that when she broke it, he was momentarily confused. Ziva sat back on her heels, still straddling him, and ran her hands down his chest over the top of his shirt. He could barely hear her panting over the sound of blood rushing through his ears, and he wondered how there could be any blood left in the top of his body when he was sure it had all gone south.

"God, Tony," she growled, the raw sound of it getting him straight at his core.

He didn't even register that her hands were moving until his pants were already open, and she was holding his shaft. Tony hissed through his teeth and the feeling of warm, strong hands around him, and his fingers dug into her bare thighs. He felt her move back again, shifting her weight further towards his knees as she held him in that oh-so-familiar way, and it was obvious what was coming. What happened next was pure insanity.

"No, don't," he told her, his voice strangled.

She was silent for a beat. "What?" she asked, like he'd just said the dumbest thing imaginable.

He wanted to find the knife she probably had hidden within arm's reach and stab himself. "I want to see you."

Ziva's grip at the base of his shaft got a little firmer, and he would've thanked her for holding him off if he wasn't struggling to breathe.

"You want me to turn the light on?" she asked.

He was so tense, and her question was so practical, that Tony actually laughed. "No, I want to see you. Not all the guns and boxes and whatever the hell else Abby has in here."

Ziva's hand stroked up and down his length slowly. "You want me to leave you like this, Tony?" She didn't sound convinced, and frankly, being left in this state was Tony's idea of hell right now.

"Uh," he started, as if he'd know what to do if he was just given a moment to think about it.

He felt Ziva's weight lift off him again, but only for a moment. When she lowered herself again, she was further up his thighs, but what really got his attention was the feel of her second hand, suddenly slippery with her own wetness, gliding up his shaft.

Something snapped inside him, and Tony sat up lightning fast, drove his fingers into her hair and crushed his mouth against hers in a bruising, wanting kiss. Ziva kissed him back but let him lead as she concentrated on working her hands around his cock, drawing out the release he so desperately needed. He broke the kiss only to nip her bottom lip with his teeth and force rasped words against her mouth.

"Just touch me," he ordered. "I'm gonna watch you later, but just touch me now."

"Happy to," she assured him, and accepted another hard kiss before he buried his face in the curve of her neck. One of his hands remained fisted in her hair as the other went around her back, holding her there with a strength she hadn't felt from him before. She worked her hand on his shaft faster, knowing it wouldn't take long when he was so spectacularly turned on, and her other hand dipped lower to very, very gently stroke over his balls. He made a noise into her neck that was either a curse or a prayer, and Ziva lifted her mouth to his ear.

"You can watch me all you want, Tony," she whispered, and two seconds later, he cried out half her name into her neck and spilled over her hands. She placed a wet kiss to his cheek, right in front of his ear, and then smiled over his shoulder. He was obviously very keen to watch her, and she knew she'd enjoy the show too.

She slowly brought him down from his high, and then returned his much softer, warmer kiss. His hands fell to rest gently on her thighs, and he cleared his throat.

"Thank you," he returned, and Ziva snickered before he joined her.

"No problem," she said.

Tony looked down to his lap. He couldn't see it, but he could feel the sticky wetness on his belly. "Uh, there are some napkins in the bag back there."

Ziva gave him another quick kiss before she stood on still weak legs and felt her way around. Her clean hand connected with his cell phone, and she hit a button to light up the screen. It cast a faint blue glow around her, and she moved the phone around until she found the discarded takeout bag. She reached in and drew out the napkins, and used one to wipe off her hand before turning to face him.

Tony swallowed hard at the sight. Ziva in soft blue light, naked aside from his shirt hanging open from her shoulders. That was why he wanted to see her. She was damn near perfect.

Oblivious, Ziva held out the rest of the napkins to him. As he cleaned up, Ziva found her pants and redressed, buttoned up her shirt and tucked it in like before. She lay down beside him again as he also covered up and made himself presentable, and then she turned onto her side, facing away from him. Tony didn't take it as a rebuff, and instead scooted up behind her and fitted himself to her back. After a little more shifting and adjusting, they lay still against each other in the dark, with Tony's hand resting against her stomach.

"So, what are you doing tonight?" he asked conversationally.

Ziva's face split into a grin, and she snorted a laugh. "If I am not still at work? I think you and I might have plans."

"Damn right, we do," Tony said, and pressed his lips against the side of her neck.

"But we really need to sleep now," she said. "I don't want to be too tired."

Tony heaved a heavy, contented sigh. "Ziva, you're my best friend."

Ahem. Hi, I'm jelenamichel, and I think I'm gaining a reputation as a smut author. My mother would be so proud. But I can do regular fics too! Probably the next one will be. Probably…