"We could have made it," Ziva growled, yanked the small metal room key out of his frozen hand as he struggled to get it into the doorknob.
"So you've said," Tony sighed. This was the third time she'd started this argument since they'd arrived at the motel.
"If I had driven—"
"We would be in a ditch on the side of the road." She hissed at him and turned to door, fumbling with the key. Her hands were apparently as frozen as his. "It's dark, and we're tired, and in case you forgot, it snowing really fucking hard!"
The key landed with a plop in the snow at their feet, and Ziva kicked the door in frustration. Once he was sure her foot wasn't going to fly again, Tony bent down to pick it up.
"We are only an hour and a half outside DC," she argued, somewhat less fire in her voice now.
"In this weather, more like five," he countered, getting the key into the lock and pushing the door open.
She stalked past him into the small room. Her scowl only grew as she took it in. It really was one of the saddest little motel rooms he'd ever seen. One bed, and a pretty small one that, covered with a musty looking think bedspread and scratchy sheets. Thin, matted carpeting, dark brown, which almost masked the many years worth of stains. Almost. The room had the stale scent of cigarettes.
He crossed past her to the bathroom. He'd had to pee for hours now. The bathroom had that same old, unkempt look as the main room. The faint blackish grime on the bottom of the tub that could never really be scrubbed away. A brown ring around the drain of the sink—at least the water was clear. Two small towels that felt like sandpaper.
When he walked back into the main room, Ziva was sitting on the edge of the bed, still scowling. Her jacket was on the floor at her feet, where he guessed she'd thrown it in frustration.
He stooped to pick it up. "I wouldn't leave anything on the floor…" He hung it, along with his own, on the hook on the back of the door. While he was there he threw the deadbolt. Even though they were in the-middle-of-nowhere-Virigina, it was still a sketchy motel. Their backpacks he put on a safe enough looking plastic chair.
After giving mattress a once over—thankfully, nothing was crawling—he sat down beside Ziva on the bed. "Look, I know you're frustrated—"
"I've been in the same damn car as you, in that weather, for four hours. I get it! I'm frustrated too. You think I want to be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, in a dirty motel?" She didn't say anything, but her shoulders sank a little bit as she resigned herself to the fact that he was right. "It wasn't safe to drive in that any more. I'm fried, you're fried—"
"Fried?" she looked up at him, eyebrow cocked.
Tony tipped back onto the bed laughing. He needed that. She didn't have nearly the trouble with idioms that she used to, but every now and then something would trip her up. Thankfully she seemed to be taking his amusement in stride, a slight smile quirking at the side of her mouth.
She lay beside him on the scratchy blanket, propped up on her elbow facing him. "Fried is a way to say tired?"
Tony nodded, letting his eyes close. "Exhausted."
"Then yes, I am fried," Ziva affirmed.
"So, it wasn't safe for either of us to drive anymore, not in this," he gestured to the window, even though the heavy drapes were pulled. They could both imagine the frosty scene that lay beyond. "Look, we stay here till its light out. Get a few hours sleep. Then we can brave the snow again. Yeah?" He rolled on his side to face her, and suddenly they were flush up against one another. He hadn't realized she was so close. Playing down his surprise, he wrapped his arm around her waist as if that's what he'd intended to do from the start.
"Smooth," she murmured into his shirt with a snort. She relaxed into him though, immediately, curling her knees up and threading them between his legs. Her hand ran up his chest to drape casually around his waist. Well this was an interesting change of events. He let his lips rest on her forehead, content to just hold her for a while. This was a rare event, and he intended to enjoy it.
She had other ideas apparently. He sucked in a deep breath as her hand slid under his shirt, her fingers cold against the warm skin of his back. Her knee slid higher, and she pulled herself closer. A moment later, her lips were on his. And he couldn't get enough. Accepting her invitation, he pulled her hard against him, running his fingers into her hair, and kissing her back frantically.
This was probably a terrible idea, but at the moment he didn't give a damn. All he could think about was the feel of her hand grazing up and down his bare back, and her lips on his. She pulled her leg from between his, and threw it over him, pushing him to his back…with a little too much enthusiasm. The next thing he knew, they were on the floor, Ziva still on top of him. After a moment of shock, they started laughing hysterically.
"I forgot you were that close to the edge," she chuckled.
"So did I," he admitted.
She rested her chin on his chest looking up at him, still grinning in amusement. The intensity of the moment before was gone, but their moods had been radically improved.
"We should probably not be laying on this rug, yes?" Ziva asked.
Tony grimaced. "Right."
She climbed off, and offered her hand to pull him up. "Time for some sleep," she told him, patting his chest as she crossed over to his backpack, withdrew his spare T-shirt, and retreated to the bathroom.
"Sure, you can borrow that," he called after her, teasingly.
He stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, laying his clothes carefully on the plastic chair before pulling back the covers and crawling in. The sheets were rough, but they were clean. Ziva emerged a few minutes later, wearing his shirt and little else. Tony admired the view as she heaped her clothes on top of his, then crawled across the bed.
"Like what you see?" she purred.
"You look good in my shirt," Tony grinned. His brain was rapidly returning to where it had been five minutes earlier.
"Good night," she smirked, turning off the lamp.
"Good night," he sighed.
But she surprised him a moment later, curling at his side and putting her head down on his chest. It was clear from the way she settled in that sleeping was now all she had in mind. Oh well. It hadn't been the wisest idea to begin with. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.