Hahaha, look how sneaky I am! :P I wrote BOTH of the stories and held one hostage until your actual birthday. However, before you read, I must warn you that you were right… spooning in the bathtub doesn't really work that well. And I also hope you don't mind that this is pure fluff.

Happy birthday, doll! Love you much!

"I'm home," Tony calls, tossing his plastic bag of DVD rentals down on a table just inside the front door. There is no response from within his apartment. "Ziva?"

It is then that something on the ground catches his eye. He steps closer, nudges it with his toe, and realizes that it's the sweater she was wearing earlier. A couple feet past it, he sees a crumpled up pair of jeans.

The trail continues with a camisole. A pair of underwear. And, just outside the bathroom door, a bra.

Suddenly, he thinks he knows what's going on.

He passes by the clothes and pokes his head into the bathroom, and there she is, smirking at him from the tub. "Took you long enough," she says.

"Your clues were very elusive." Tony steps up beside her and takes in the scene. There are bubbles floating in the water, but the gaps between them reveal expanses of bare olive skin. Some strands of hair cling to her face. She isn't reading a book, drinking wine, or anything she usually does in the bath; she's just sitting there.

Waiting for him, apparently.

Ziva puts on a lazy smile and reaches for his hand. "Are you going to join me?"

As much as he would like to climb in there with her, he's getting old, and his back is a concern. "Why don't we just go to bed?"

"Because I have only been in here a few minutes," she tells him. "To drain the tub now would be a waste."

Tony sighs. Her knees emerge from the water as she draws her feet toward her. A mass of bubbles slides down her upper calf. She is completely irresistible to him, and she knows it.

He pulls his t-shirt over his head. Ignoring her victorious grin, he unbuttons his jeans and pushes down them and his boxers. Ziva watches with keen interest.

"Enjoying the show?" he quips, placing one foot, then the other, in the warm water. He grips the sides of the tub while he lowers himself opposite of her. "Ouch. Okay. There."

Once he is settled, Ziva pokes his leg with her big toe. "See? This is not bad."

"No," he says, though the faucet is digging painfully into his back. He moves forward to get away from it and bumps into her. "It's squished in here."

She starts crawling over to him, gripping the edges of the tub for support, the upper half of her body now in full view. Tony makes no attempt to hide his admiration for her taut abdominal muscles and round breasts. "You're googling," she says, and plops down between his legs.

"It's ogling," he corrects her. "Geez, woman. I've been ogling you for how many years now, and you still don't have the phrase down?"

Ziva settles her back against his chest. "It is a strange word."

He grunts and moves her hair over one shoulder, then wraps his arms around her stomach and begins to kiss her neck. She tilts her head, giving him more room to work with. Her skin is silky and smooth beneath his lips, and he tugs her closer, closer, as close as he possibly can, deciding that whatever physical problems this bathtub episode causes him later will be totally worth it.

She strokes his leg, and he fights to keep his body's automatic response at bay. Continuing to suckle her neck, he puts his own hands on the tops of her thighs, kneading gently.

"Tony," she warns.

"Yes?" he drawls innocently, taking her earlobe between his teeth.

"You never miss an opportunity, do you?" Ziva sighs loudly when his fingers slide higher. "Tony."

"You made me get in here," he murmurs in her ear. She shivers, and he feels a rush of glee. "I might as well get something out of it."

"What about relaxing in a bubble bath with your girlfriend?"

He pretends to think. "Nah. That doesn't do it for me." He dips his free hand behind her knee, which he knows is the only ticklish spot on her body. Ziva laughs, jerking it away.

And, apparently, he has won her over, because then she twists around and kisses him.

The angle is awkward but manageable when they crane their heads the right way. With every passing moment, their mouths become quicker, more urgent. She attempts to turn fully toward him, and Tony gently pulls on her hips, but that ends up being terribly unhelpful when it causes her to tumble. With an enormous splash, both of them fall back.

"Shit!" he yells as he conks his head on the faucet. "Owww."

Ziva lifts her face out of the water and grins at him. Her hair, now completely wet, sticks to her back, and her bare shoulders are shaking with laughter. "You are okay," she coos exaggeratedly, running her hand through his hair. "It's just a little bump."

He pouts. "Kiss it."

She does. "There. Feel better?"

"Much," Tony says with a grin. She rolls her eyes. The mood, it seems, has been killed. He gets away from that damn faucet and settles against the other end of the tub. Ziva follows, curling into his side and resting her head lazily on his chest.

Yeah. They're just gonna sit here now.

Oh, well. His head is kind of throbbing; if they were to do anything, it'd probably turn into a full-blown migraine. That's what happens when you hit your forties.

She sighs softly. "I don't want to go to work tomorrow," she says, which surprises Tony- she almost never says things like that.

"Why not?" he asks, confused.

"Because I am tired of work. We need to go somewhere." Her fingers tangle in his chest hair. "Just for a weekend."

This conversation is taking a turn that he quite likes. "A few days off would be nice."

Ziva nods against him. "A few days off during which we could not be called in. It would be you and me and a hotel room."

"Miss David," he scolds playfully, "I don't think your intentions here are completely innocent."

A teasing smile on her lips, she lifts her chin and grazes along his jaw with her nose. "No," she says. "I do not think so, either."

Tony laughs, grabs the back of her head, and pulls her mouth to his. Just like that, the mood is back.

And regardless of how much water they slosh over the side of the tub, it doesn't fade again.