Okay, so in an effort to get this posted before the next episode (because GOD only knows what will happen to the T/Z dynamic which seems to change like the wind) I am posting this in a slightly hurried fashion. Hopefully, my errors are minimal. Also, I'm not feeling great so maybe you'll feel sorry for me if you do spot an error. :)

Takes place during and after Ships In The Night. Very slight spoilers. Rated M, but not really that graphic.

Disclaimer: Sadly, they are not mine.

"Laying it on a little thick, aren't you, DiNozzo?" Ziva asks in a whoosh of air as her back slams against the high gloss painted walls of the dimly lit back stairwell. Her words lack bite and most likely, exhaustion could be blamed for her missing irritation along with what could potentially be very poor judgment. After all, she was making out with her partner on federal property. Even Tony wasn't usually this stupid. But stupid they were since neither one of them seem even mildly interested in the consequences of being caught.

"I don't know, Agent David, I could say the same about you." She should say something here, possibly could mention that Tony's reference to one night stands was not only a poor cover for their current activity but it was plain tacky. She would definitely mention it if she was actually capable of forming the words, but his mouth kissing and licking and biting along her neck was just too big of a distraction. Pulling the high collar of her sweater away from her skin, Tony nipped at the soft curve of her shoulder and Ziva let her head fall back against the wall. As nice as Tony's lips felt along her flesh, she really wanted him to kiss her. Grabbing his face with both of her hands, she planted her mouth on his, his smooth lips sliding along hers as she lost herself in the moment, pushing against his mouth and slipping her tongue along-

"Hey! You planned this, Tony! I can taste your toothpaste! You brushed your teeth first."

But he's not deterred by her outburst and silences her with a drugging, all encompassing kiss. Besides, he watched her go through several pieces of Cinnamint gum, so he doesn't feel particularly guilty especially since he knows she planned this - or at least some version of this - too.

His hands begin roaming beneath the hem of her shirt, cold fingers drawing a sharp intake of breath from his partner as he quickly finds his target: the clasp of Ziva's bra. She eyes him beneath half closed lids as if considering something important even as her breath quickens and she reacts to his touch upon her breast.

"I suppose I make a poor substitute for a nameless face at the bar during last call," she throws out casually, even as her hands begin working on the buckle of his belt.

"Just as I am sure that I make a poor substitute for Mr. Miami."

Again, it must be the exhaustion that keeps either of them from getting properly angry because they do not stop or even slow down. It is not long before Tony's mouth once again finds Ziva's. She's stroking the front his pants now and Tony has managed to slip his fingers into the front hers, finding her hot, wet, and more than ready.

Rubbing his fingers against her, she buries her face against his chest and cries out against him. Frantically, she works on the front of his pants releasing his dick and stroking him as he twitches against her hand. They've only been sleeping together - or more accurately, screwing each other since they have not actually done any sleeping - for a few weeks, but she already knows most of his buttons as he knows hers.

It won't be long before it is noticed that they are missing, so Ziva speeds up the process by sliding her pants down her hips just far enough so that getting undressed won't be necessary. Spinning around and bracing her hands against the wall, she pushes her ass toward him as he wraps one arm around her and presses himself inside of her inch by inch. He groans against her neck and she answers with a tiny cry of her own. And tired or not, nothing seems to feel as good as when he is deep inside of her.

It is fast and hard but still incredibly hot. He pounds against her but she pushes back just as forcefully and for the briefest and tiniest of moments he wonders what it would be like to not feel so rushed. What it might feel like to take her to dinner first. If they happened to be the sort of people that did things like that, of course.

Her muscles clench around his dick and he knows that she is close. He tightens one arm around her waist as his other hand snakes down between her legs to press against the tingling nerves. Two more strokes and she throws her head back against his chest and shudders violently. He feels her legs begin to buckle and holds her more tightly as he follows her over the edge.

The only sound in the dark stairway is their combined harsh breathing. A strange flutter rattles around Ziva's stomach as Tony presses one of his hands flat between her breasts along her sternum to feel her heartbeat. He kisses her ear and she squeezes his hand as their breathing slows and the high begins to fade.

Tony waits until Ziva begins to fidget before sliding his softening erection from her body and zipping himself back into his pants. Ziva slides her own clothing back into place without turning to face him. They stand that way for a moment - Ziva's back to Tony - before she finally whispers, "we need to get back."

He rubs his hand down her spine and she shudders in response. He can't tell if she's shuddering in arousal or disgust and suddenly he's wishing their circumstances were different. That they were different. She finally turns around and gives him a small smile and a pat on the cheek before they head back to their desks at staggered intervals.


Many hours lately, Gibbs finally releases them from duty and they trek to their vehicles in relative silence. Arriving at Ziva's car first, he watches as she climbs in. She gives him a slight wave, but he grabs the door just as it is about to slam shut.

"Just for the record, suddenly one night stands aren't really that appealing."

She looks away and concentrates very hard on her fingernails for an eternal moment before squinting up at him with a slight smirk scrunching her face.

"Just for the record, Mr. Miami is gay."

And with that, she leaves Tony standing in the parking lot of the Navy Yard.


Ziva scrutinizes herself in front of the foggy mirror of her bathroom. Long wet strands of hair stick to her shoulders. As she sweeps her hair to the side, she notices the tiny purplish bruise where Tony had sunk his teeth into the base of her neck. She smiles faintly at the bruise and brushes her finger tips over the marred skin while her mind drifts to the delicious soreness between her legs. For a second she allows herself to revel in the memory of his touch and the way he fills her so completely before she shoves the scene to the back of her mind. It has never served her purpose to want things that she was never meant to have.

She brushes her hair and pulls it into a ponytail before slipping into tight yoga pants and a tank top. It's much too bright in her apartment, but her body is too tired to know the difference. Her head hits the pillow and she fades quickly, just beginning to slip into a sleep deprivation induced coma when she hears a soft knock on her door.

Staggering to the front of her apartment, she opens the door without checking the peep hole simply because she always knows when it is him. He's wearing sweats and his hair is as damp as hers. She blinks at him but doesn't speak, only stands to the side so that he can enter.

They eye each other for long moments, the stillness not quite unsettling before Tony breaks the stalemate.

"Just for the record, I want to start waking up with you, too."

Thank you for reading. Thoughts and feedback are always appreciated. :)