A/N: I realize I haven't been personally responding to reviews much lately, I'm sorry. Been feeling a bit blegh (look at me; pretending to be a writer, pretending to be capable of expressing my feelings), but I'll get around to it soon.

Enjoy.

Four weeks—a whole month—and Ziva hadn't killed him yet. In fact, she seemed to enjoy his company. A lot. Which had surprised him, somewhat. He wasn't surprised that he had enjoyed her company, though. Occasionally he had visited the bullpen the first two weeks of his recovery. To lighten the mood, he had claimed, but really, not seeing Ziva all day long drove him mad.

Not that he didn't enjoy their evenings and mornings together. Those were great, just the two of them. But going from seeing her more than ten hours a day to sometimes barely two hours a day was giving him withdrawal symptoms. So when he finally lost the sling and started physical therapy two weeks after the accident, he jumped at the chance to be on desk duty. Ziva, who hated desk duty with a vengeance, had looked at him like he was insane.

The limitations of his left arm after getting rid of the sling had been disappointing, though, and his right wrist would probably take another four weeks of healing—only two more weeks in a cast if he was lucky. He'd donated his first cast to Abby; she'd drawn skulls all over it when he'd fallen asleep in her lab. Considering he could've broken his head instead of his wrist, he'd found the artwork rather morbid and was glad he had an appointment to have it replaced the next day.

Ziva had been helping him with his physical therapy exercises and he was making good progress, despite being careful not to overdo things. He knew rushing would only set back the healing process, and he had yet to make good on his promise to Ziva. Well, part of it anyway.

Being so dependent on another person those first few weeks had been more of a struggle than Tony had expected. Not that he minded how touchy Ziva had to be to help him. That was the only upside to being pushed out of a window. What bothered him was the fact that he felt lazy and unappreciative for not being able to help her with anything.

So in an effort to make himself somewhat useful and show his appreciation, Tony had upgraded her pathetic excuse for a TV after only a week at her place. Fair enough, the act hadn't been entirely altruistic. As much as he liked reading the occasional book, he missed his movies when Ziva wasn't around.

When he'd managed to wash his hair all by himself after the first week of physical therapy, he'd walked into the kitchen smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. Ziva had been preparing breakfast and had laughed out loud at his enthusiasm over achieving such a trivial task. Then suddenly, without warning, her face had fallen for a split second, before she had turned and focused on cooking again. He'd almost missed it, temporarily distracted by the smell of frying bacon—turkey bacon, because even though she wouldn't admit it, little things like this told him she worried about his long-term health. Ever since that moment, he had caught her with an almost melancholic look on her face more than once.

She hid it well, as usual; nobody at work had noticed, but it had troubled him all week, nonetheless. And despite the fact that it was a quiet Saturday morning and they were tying up some loose ends on their latest case, his gut was almost screaming at him that something was wrong.

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, they could be out of the office around noon and enjoy what was left of the weekend. Maybe he could put his investigative skills to good use later on, and figure out what was going on with her before everything went to hell, the way it usually did between them when they didn't talk.

The churning of his gut was only rivaled by the itchy feeling under his cast, which had been driving him mad all morning. He finally resorted to stealing a ruler off of McGee's desk to scratch the itch. McGee complained loudly and told him he owed him a new ruler, Ziva scrunched up her nose and threw a paper ball at him while reminding him of his doctor's warning. He couldn't have cared less and sighed at the temporary relief.

"If I catch you doing that at home…" Ziva said, a sly smile on her lips before she got cut off by Gibbs.

"When are you going home, DiNozzo?"

Tony's smile didn't falter when he turned his focus from Ziva to his boss.

"Thought you two'd be done playing house when you lost the sling." The disapproval was evident, not just in Gibbs' tone, but also in the piercing blue eyes that were now staring him down.

Tony was about to make a comment about not rushing perfection when he turned his attention to Ziva again. The smile slipped from his face as he took in her rigid posture, clenched jaw and the otherwise blank expression on her face, now focused on her computer screen instead of him.

He frowned, his mind trying to connect the dots.

"Well, Ziva's helping me with physical therapy," he replied in a neutral tone, keeping his eyes on her. "And she suggested helping me pass the shooting test left handed, so I can get back in the field."

Apart from a few rapid blinks, Ziva hadn't moved, hadn't even put her hands on the keyboard and pretended to work. Tony quickly glanced over at Gibbs and added, "I thought you'd appreciate the extra effort we're putting in to get the team working at full capacity again."

Gibbs' stare was still cold enough to make hell freeze over, and it made Tony's hackles rise. After Ziva had…put her medical advice into practice a month ago, he had decided that, as far as he was concerned, rule 12 had fallen out of that window with him and died.

Fully intent to stand his ground and debunk anything Gibbs could throw at him about his damn rules, Tony's expression turned stone-cold. Gibbs' eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly before he briefly looked over at Ziva, got up and walked out, telling them to get out of there as soon as their reports were done. Tony frowned, not sure what had happened, but feeling like he had somehow won that battle…kind of. Maybe. A little bit?

Ziva now had an equally confused expression on her face, and he had to admit, he preferred that to the wistful look he'd seen earlier.

"So," he drawled, grin firmly in place. "Shooting range when we're done here?"

The wide smile she sent him before turning back to her computer—and actually working this time—almost made him forget about his resolution to have a serious talk with her later. Almost.

§

All three of them had finished their paperwork in record time, and once at the shooting range, Tony had insisted Ziva shoot a few rounds first. He'd always been a sucker for hot chicks with guns, and figured the visual memory might lessen the pain he would undoubtedly have to endure in his shoulder when it was his turn to shoot.

The glint in her eye when she turned to him, after surveying her handiwork with an almost smug expression, made his heart flip. The woman really did enjoy shooting a gun.

After reloading and handing him the weapon, Ziva gave him some pointers and he shot a few rounds. She helped him readjust his stance slightly by molding herself to his back. Tony blinked slowly, memories of the last time they were in that position flooding his brain.

"If you had been my firearms instructor at the Police Academy, I would've done a lot worse."

"I am an excellent shot and instructor," Ziva said peeved, moving to stand in front of him, glaring.

"What I meant, Ziva," he drawled out her name, "is that if Larry, the obese, balding instructor who always smelled of anchovies and cigarettes had used your…hands-on technique, I would've either shot him or myself. Larry standing two feet from me for one minute was enough incentive to practice hard so he'd go far, far away to hopefully never return."

"So…you need incentive to practice harder?" Ziva said, a coy smile on her lips.

She stepped in closer and his right arm went around her waist on its own volition to pull her closer. Over the past month nothing had escalated between them. Well…except for those two very intense bathroom encounters—but those hadn't really been about sex, or so he kept telling himself—and a handful of make-out sessions that had been cut short by ringing phones. He really hated having to be reachable at all times.

Her gaze flicked to his mouth before staring him in the eye again. She stood on tiptoe and purred next to his ear, "I'm sure we can think of some kind of incentive."

Tony's heart sped up as her breath tickled his ear, and he chuckled lowly at the promise. Eager to get home, he reloaded with one hand and tried to focus on the target instead of the heat Ziva—who hadn't stepped back, at all—was generating.

Unfortunately, he ended up spending the majority of the evening with an ice pack on his shoulder, high on painkillers, his earlier plans and fantasies a vague memory.

§

Tony had slept through Ziva's Sunday morning run, breakfast and her trip to the farmers' market, before the midday sun finally filtered through the closed curtains and his eyelids. He was disappointed, but not surprised, that Ziva's side of the bed had long gone cold, and relieved that the pain in his left shoulder had dissipated. Less than two seconds after burying his face in Ziva's pillow his stomach growled loudly and he decided to go in search of food. And maybe, if he got lucky, he'd get to bury his nose in Ziva's hair instead of just her pillow.

"Lunch is ready," she said as he walked into the living room.

"How could you possibly know I'm hungry," he asked in a gravelly voice, soaking up the warm smile she sent him.

"Either you are hungry, or, for some inexplicable reason, there's a dinosaur in my bedroom."

"It wasn't that loud," he deadpanned.

"Paleontologists are probably on their way over here right now," she teased as she patted his stomach on the way to the kitchen.

"Don't make me regret watching Jurassic Park with you last night," he countered, grinning.

Ziva tilted her head. "I'm surprised you even remember that."

"Well," he said sheepishly while sitting down at the kitchen table and scrunching his nose at the salad Ziva placed in front of him. "My memories are a bit blurry after putting in the DVD."

They ate in amicable silence, and Tony offered to help out with some household chores afterwards. Not just because he finally felt like he was able to contribute, but also because it gave him an opportunity to get Ziva to open up to him about what had been bothering her all week.

If they wanted to make this work, however undefined this still was, they had to start communicating better. There's only so much loud looks and body language can tell. And he never wanted to hear Gibbs say "I told you so" when it came to him and Ziva.

"Can you drop me off at my place later on," Tony said as he worked in sync with Ziva to fold a bed sheet.

"Sure."

"Thanks. Now that I can drive again, I can get my car and be out of your hair," he explained, as he stepped closer to her with his end of the sheet.

Ziva's smile faltered slightly before giving a tight nod and a smile, that didn't reach her eyes at all, as she took the corners of the sheet he was holding, and quickly turned away from him to complete the folding.

"Hey," he said softly, touching her arm to hopefully get her to face him again. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said casually, shaking her head and shrugging lightly.

Tony pursed his lips realizing he hadn't seen her that closed off in quite a while. His shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh.

"What!" Ziva said, the aggravation in her voice suddenly making the air in the bedroom feel heavy.

Tony was barely able to contain an undignified huff and closed his eyes for a moment while inhaling deeply, calmly. It would be so easy to give in to their usual fighting. To just yell and throw barbs at each other, until one of them cut too deep.

Clearly, the way he slowly exhaled and made an effort to keep his facial expression open and relaxed made her uncomfortable. Her brow furrowed the tiniest bit as her eyes flitted all over and her arms actually crossed in front of her chest.

"Ziva," he tried again, sounding as calm as possible. "We really need to talk."

He could actually hear her swallow while she blinked rapidly, squaring her shoulders and dropping her hands in front of her. The same way she had done in that small hotel bathroom a month ago.

This wasn't going well. In fact, this was going a lot worse than he had anticipated.

"Will you please talk to me," he tried again softly, making an effort to reign in his fear of screwing this up before it even truly started. "You've been acting weird all week and…" He ran a hand through his hair. "I can't figure it out, Ziva. Did I do or say something wrong?"

Ziva's eyebrows knit together and she shook her head curtly, closing her eyes for a moment. "No, you did nothing wrong."

"Okay," he replied, not entirely convinced. "Then what's wrong?"

"It is nothing," she replied exasperated. "I just…it is not you."

He shook his head, "Don't give me the 'it's not you, it's me speech', Ziva, because I've heard that before." He grimaced. "Well, actually, I'm better acquainted with the 'it's you, how could you do this to me speech'."

Ziva huffed and smiled sadly. "It is really not you, Tony." She placed a hand on his cheek, looking him in the eye with that sad expression again. "You…" She bit her bottom lip in hesitation. "You have been wonderful…to have around, but I understand that you want to go home."

The soft touch of her hand had distracted him and put a smile on his lips. It wasn't until Ziva dropped her hand, that her words sank in and his smile faded.

"Wait…I'm doing what now?" His throat suddenly felt dry.

"Gibbs was right yesterday. You do not need my help anymore." She shrugged again.

Tony's mind was reeling. Did she want him to leave? Did she want him to leave because of Gibbs? Did she think he wanted to leave?

"So…you want me to leave?" he asked tentatively, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Ziva opened and closed her mouth. "I want you to do what is right for you."

And then it dawned on him.

"You think I want to leave," he said, wondering which was worse; Ziva wanting him to leave, or her thinking he wanted to leave. "Why would you think that?" he asked, trying not to sound hurt.

"You wanted me to drop you off at your apartment because you're able to drive again."

Tony let out a laugh of relief. At the hurt look on her face he quickly explained, "I wanted to pick up my car so I could get around without having to bother you or take a bus." He rested his hands on her shoulders. "Maybe grab a few more clothes and movies."

Ziva still didn't look convinced. He threaded his fingers through her hair. "Do you want me to leave?" he repeated softly.

The multitude of emotions swirling in her eyes and her hesitation made his heart hurt for her. He hated how everything she had been through made her so cautious, so hesitant to let people know what she truly wanted.

When his phone rang in the other room, Tony swore loudly and dropped his hands from her hair, certain his chances had just been ruined, when her eyes once again refused to meet his. He let out a frustrated sigh and walked off to answer his phone.

He had just answered the call when Ziva unexpectedly placed a hand on his arm. Too irritated by another disruptive phone call, he hadn't even noticed she had followed him.

"No," she said softly. And for a moment he had trouble remembering how he had phrased his question. His frat buddy talking in his ear over the phone wasn't exactly helping him focus.

"I…want you to…stay," she said, haltingly, but sounding a lot more confident.

"Really?" he asked slightly stunned as a wide smile slowly broke out on his face.

Ziva merely nodded, her own smile firmly in place now, then headed back into the bedroom to finish the laundry.

He took a few moments to let the warm feeling that had started to spread after hearing her words settle within him, before turning his attention to the phone conversation. There was an unexpected extra ticket for the Buckeyes game that afternoon, but Tony declined, preferring to record the game and spend the rest of the afternoon with Ziva. His frat buddy called him a whipped boyfriend and Tony replied, "I hope so," before ending the call.

§

Later that evening, Tony padded into the bedroom, briefly stopping in the doorway to take in Ziva. She was sitting cross-legged, wearing the tank top and shorts she'd put on after dinner, hair curly and wild, eyes scanning right to left, brows slightly furrowed at the book she was holding. She had insisted he watch the recorded game after dinner, while she finished a book she had started weeks ago.

He crawled onto the bed and plopped down on his back with his head in her lap. Ziva moved the book to her right so she could look down at him.

"May I help you?" Crinkles appeared around her eyes.

"I'm lonely," Tony said giving her his best puppy dog face.

"Game not going well?" An amused smile graced her lips. He merely pouted.

Ziva placed the book on the nightstand and put her hand on his chin, drawing him into her while leaning down to kiss him languidly. Any thought of sports slipped his mind and he was suddenly convinced this was what lazy Sundays were all about.

"Mmm, very Spider-Man," Tony said after she let go of his bottom lip. Ziva frowned and he elaborated, "Upside down kiss." At her blank expression, he continued, "Seriously, you haven't seen Spider-Man?"

"Are you going to continue talking about movies, or continue kissing me?" Ziva asked sweetly.

"I never knew that was an option. It could've saved you from having to listen to years of movie referenc-"

Her lips on his effectively ended that conversation. He hummed approvingly when she slid a hand under the collar of his t-shirt, letting her fingers run through his chest hair. Their kissing became more urgent, and his nerve endings started to stir and tingle.

Tony briefly broke the kiss and said lowly, "You're going to stretch the collar."

"Then maybe you should take off your shirt," Ziva suggested, licking her lips and removing her hand from where it had been teasing a nipple.

He sat up and did exactly that before lying down and pulling her with him. Ziva slowly ran a hand down his chest to the waistband of his sweatpants, bumping his nose with hers, not breaking eye contact.

"Easy access, I like it," she said huskily, snapping the elastic.

Tony chuckled lowly before capturing her lips with his and running a hand through her soft curls. It was taking all of his willpower to keep the kiss slow and sweet, trying to recapture that lazy Sunday evening feel. He moved to his side, running the fingers of his right hand down to her hip, catching her eye in between little pecks on her lips.

"I distinctly remember getting a favorable reaction from you…" he said with a grin and a glint in his eye as his fingers trailed over the cotton of her shorts and the soft bare skin of her thigh, "last time I touched you," he slightly pressed his fingers to the back of her knee, "right there."

Ziva reached a hand to the back of his head and pulled him down for another kiss. Slow and sweet had apparently left the building and been replaced with fast and needy. When he moved all his weight on his left arm to lean over her and pull her leg over his hip, he couldn't hold back a yelp as pain shot through his still healing shoulder.

Ziva flipped him on his back effortlessly, sprawling all over him. She ran kisses over his shoulder, then licked and kissed her way over his neck and jaw, to his mouth.

"Better?" she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Tony ran his hands over her ass and squeezed, pulling her to him. Her hips bucked on their own accord, making him grin and murmur, "Much."

The throaty chuckle that left her slightly swollen lips, made his cock twitch and his temperature rise. He kissed her again, sucking on her tongue as the fingers of his left hand slipped from her neck, over her collarbone, under the tank top and down to her breast. She moaned into his mouth as the pads of his fingers lightly grazed over her nipple and he was surprised at how sensitive she was, remembering how often she showed up at work braless when she first joined NCIS.

Her hips started rocking against him, and he could feel his cock strain against the elastic of his sweatpants as he teased her nipple and touched his tongue to hers. When Ziva's lips left his mouth and moved to the sensitive skin below his jawline, he removed his hand from her breast and she looked up at him, ready to protest.

"I don't want to stretch the collar," he said huskily and grinned mischievously.

Ziva raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and sat up, increasing pressure where he wanted it most. He gripped the hem of her tank top, dragging it upward slowly. His eyes took in every inch of smooth tanned skin that was exposed and he was reminded of the few other times he had seen glimpses of her naked body, some under very different circumstances. Impatiently, she helped him pull the flimsy piece of clothing over her head and flung it aside.

Tony's eyes followed the trail of goosebumps his fingers left in their wake, from her stomach, around her belly button, between her breasts to her neck. When his gaze finally met hers, she was staring down at him with eyes so full of want, his heartbeat turned into a frenzied hammering. He raised himself up to a sitting position and her eyelids fluttered as he placed chaste kisses all over her face.

"I still owe you that interest," he said in a gravelly voice, in between kisses.

Ziva drew in a quick breath as her lips twitched into a smile. "What did you have in mind?" she murmured.

Tony pulled her down with him again and tucked a few stray curls behind her ear. He could feel her heat through his pants and struggled to clear his head, desire building within him rapidly.

"Unfortunately, I left my checkbook at my apartment," he quipped and she narrowed her eyes. "So I guess that leaves…manual labor."

Her eyes went wide a fraction of a second before he placed the palm of his hand between her legs and a jolt ran through her body. Tony groaned when he realized just how wet she was, the cotton barrier of her shorts already damp. As he moved the palm of his hand back and forth with increased pressure, she crushed her lips to his in response. Her tongue moved smoothly around his as he started tugging down her shorts, his desire to feel all of her taking over. She hovered over him on one arm, sliding a hand down his chest towards his stomach, her eyes leaving no doubt as to what her intention was. His hips lurched towards her, aching for her warmth, but that wasn't what he wanted. Not yet, anyway.

Tony gently covered her hand with his, shaking his head, a soft smile on his lips, and brought her palm up to kiss it. His lips trailed to the inside of her wrist, sucking on the sensitive skin and eliciting a soft whimper from her lips, then trailed kisses further down her arm, pulling her closer to him in the process. As much as Tony wanted to feel her hands pumping him again, he was determined to make this all about her. He hadn't forgotten that look she had given him in the ladies' room. And even though he was certain Ziva would always get what she wanted in the end, that look had told him that most men had never bothered to put her desires first.

His fingers found their way to her wet center again and as Ziva bit down on her lower lip at the soft contact, breathing in heavily, it felt as if all his senses had been heightened. The warm slickness on his fingers as they moved over her, the smell of her arousal, their combined heavy breathing and the way his name tumbled from her lips—a plea—were only stoking the fire within him. Tony let a finger slide in between her swollen folds and he couldn't take his eyes of her face. Every little move of his fingers brought a minute change to her expression and he felt like he was reading a book, where new adventures await with every flick of a page.

Ziva dropped her head and gently nipped at his neck. He took that as his cue to add another finger and speed up the rhythm. She let out a shuddery breath near his ear as a shiver ran through her body. He curled his fingers and knew exactly when he hit the right spot when she made a strangled noise and her thighs trembled.

"Don't stop," she gasped next to his ear, and not even the pain building in his shoulder could make him stop now.

Tony angled his head to get a better look at her face, his fingers still pressing inside her in the rhythm she liked. She was grinding against his hand now, growing even wetter, a flush spreading over her chest and face. Her fingers fisted in his hair and she pulled his face close to hers, panting and moaning in his ear. He missed not being able to see her, but as he breathed in the lingering scent of her shampoo mixed with the heady smell of sex, her wetness coating his hand and seeping through his pants making his dick twitch, eager for more, he decided there would be plenty of opportunities to watch her come in the near future.

Tony flicked his thumb against her swollen clit, and would have chuckled at her strong reaction, if her biting his earlobe and grinding against him with her entire body hadn't sent shockwaves straight to his dick. He realized for the first time exactly how turned on he could get trying to help Ziva get off and how close he was to coming in his pants.

"Oh god, Tony," she moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair, then loosening, in sync with the rhythm of his fingers inside her.

"Let go, Ziva." His voice was thick with emotion.

The whimper in his ear and clenching of her muscles, made him whisper it over and over again, and with a final flick of his thumb her whole body tensed, then shuddered.

Tony's fingers moved in and over her slowly until all tension had left her body and he heard her inhale a shaky breath.

"Oh god, Tony," she repeated in his ear, voice low and laced with awe.

He couldn't help but smirk as he held her a bit tighter, memorizing the sound of her voice, and murmured, "I'm glad you're finally acknowledging my divinity."

Ziva pushed herself up on one elbow to stare at him for a moment. Suddenly her hand was between them, pushing his pants down. She slid her wet center over his swollen cock without warning, biting her bottom lip.

"God, Ziva!" he growled, feeling lightheaded at the sudden onslaught of sensation.

His fingers dug into her hips, keeping her in place as he twitched at their closeness. When he regained control over his body, his gaze drifted to hers. He chuckled lightly at her smug look.

"I always knew we'd be divine together," he said lowly, placing a hand on the back of her head to bring her lips closer for a slow, deep kiss.

Ziva kissed her way to his ear and buried her face in his neck, letting out a sigh of contentment and placing a hand against his cheek as she relaxed on top of him. Tony's grin widened as he felt her lips and tongue caress his neck. She ran her thumb over his lips and he kissed it softly, prompting her to look at him again.

Tony's heart skipped a few beats at the look Ziva was giving him. He hardly ever saw her so relaxed, so open, so unguarded. All her walls were down, there wasn't even a picket fence trying to hold him out. All he could think was that they should've done this a long time ago.

His fingers trailed circles all over her back as they drowned in each other's eyes for what felt like eternity. Ziva nuzzled his nose, still caressing his face and lips with her thumb. "I always imagined you would be good at this kind of manual labor," she said playfully.

Tony laughed and reveled in feeling her body on top of his shaking with laughter. "You really should tell me about your fantasies some day."

Ziva brushed her lips across his briefly. "Perhaps I should."

The mischievous glint in her eye sent a new rush of tingles down his body. Smelling her arousal on his fingers as he wiped a few curls from her face made his cock twitch and hips buck at the memory of going down on her three weeks ago, and he was overcome with need.

"I want to taste you again," he said, voice husky and determined.

She ran her thumb over his lips, eyes wide, her heartbeat picking up speed against his chest. He kissed her deeply, then moved his lips down her neck, grabbing her waist and pulling her higher. His tongue flicked her nipple before closing his mouth over it and sucking, and Ziva let out a gasp as she clutched at the hair on the back of his head, pulling him closer to her chest. Tony could take a hint and kept up his ministrations, palming her other breast with his left hand.

When her moans and gasps began to test Tony's patience and self control, he flicked an erect nipple one last time with his tongue and grabbed her ass none too gently, pulling her high up his chest, eliciting another gasp from her mouth. Ziva gripped the headboard and positioned herself over his face. Her anticipation was palpable in the way she licked her lips and caught his eye.

Never breaking eye contact, Tony placed his hands on her thighs and pulled her down to his mouth. She jerked slightly at the first lick. He held her tighter and placed his mouth over her wet center, teasingly running his tongue lightly between her folds.

Ziva's eyes closed as she bit her bottom lip on a moan. Tony started flicking her clit with his tongue, but when she tugged his hair a faint grimace on her face he went back to the long strokes and sucking that helped her over the edge last time. The death grip on his hair loosened and her head lolled back.

Every little gasp and moan sent tingles coursing through his body, settling low in his belly, and he knew right then and there that he would never tire of this. When Ziva leaned back, placing her hands on his hips, he was disappointed at no longer being able to see the emotions flit all over her face. His disappointment disappeared when she tossed her head back further and the ends of her curls caressed his dick. He groaned at the feathery soft and unexpected sensation.

Ziva's head shot forward again to look at him. The glint in her eye and the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth told him she was up to no good. He narrowed his eyes and sucked on her clit longer than he had before. Her head lolled back again while she moaned his name wantonly.

And just as he'd expected her hair touched his cock again, only this time it was clearly intentional. He couldn't contain another groan, and the way she bucked her hips made it clear she didn't mind the reverberations his moans sent through her.

Ziva brushed her hair over his cock a few more times, before shifting her weight to one arm and running the pads of two fingers over the underside of his hard cock. Tony's hips bucked in an involuntary effort to increase the touch. He temporarily forgot what he was doing as she repeated the caress, his fingers digging into her thighs as blood roared in his ears.

When she fondled his balls and he groaned her name in warning, she let out a throaty chuckle. Tony took it as a challenge and lapped at her center, twisting his arm and wrist uncomfortably so he could rub her clit with his thumb.

Ziva bolted upright, letting out what could only be a string of Hebrew cuss words. He chuckled, mouth still firmly in place, thumb moving smoothly over her swollen clit. She grabbed the headboard with one hand, his hair in the other, as she gasped for air.

The moans leaving her lips, the way her fingers alternated between massaging his scalp and lightly tugging his hair, hips rolling, told him she was getting close. Which is why he was completely baffled when she suddenly lifted herself off of his face, breaking the grasp he had on her thigh.

Ziva was gripping the headboard with both hands now, eyes pinched shut, mouth open, panting. Tony absentmindedly licked his lips, savoring the wetness and wondering why she didn't let him finish. He ran his hands over the backs of her thighs and ass gently, and she opened her eyes to look at him, a grin forming on her lips. The carnal look on her face sent sparks up and down his spine.

Ziva lowered her hands to either side of his head as she lowered herself and slowly slid down his body until they were face to face. Her eyes flicked to his lips and she took his lower lip between hers, then deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth. She lowered her hips a fraction more, bumping her wet center against the tip of his engorged cock. They moaned in unison and Tony couldn't help but grin; he always suspected they'd be fireworks together and if this build-up was any indication, he'd be proven right.

She broke the kiss, her lips just out of his reach, breathing the same air, eyes locked in a drunken haze.

His intent had been to draw this out as long as possible, but when Ziva slid her wet folds over his throbbing cock, back and forth, arching her back, all he wanted was to be inside her, now, and lose himself in her.

After clumsily removing his sweatpants all the way, in a flurry of frantically moving, tangled limbs, he took a few deep breaths, desperately trying to get a grip of the electricity coursing through his veins. Just for a couple of seconds, long enough to make sure that Ziva wanted this as much as he did. Sure, she was the one currently rubbing her slickness all over him—and oh god, that felt so good—but they never actually talked about…them. This. What the make-out sessions meant. Or why he felt so damn comfortable letting her take care of him this past month. And why he really didn't want to move back to his place.

Tony caressed the side of her face, then tangled his fingers in her hair.

"Ziva," he whispered questioningly, voice breaking the tiniest bit, hoping she would understand with that one word, her name, how much this—she—meant to him.

She rested her forehead against his, placed her hand on his cheek and stared him in the eye. Her dark curls enveloped them in a cocoon and the air around them seemed to crackle.

"Tony." A smile tugged at her lips as his name left her mouth. He hoped to hear her say his name like that every day for the rest of his life. Full of desire, adoration and confidence.

And as his chest felt like it was about to explode, and he drowned in the depths of emotions written on her face, Ziva slowly, almost tentatively, sank down on him.

"Tony." A moan this time, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.

They remained still for a few sweet moments, lost in the sensation of finally taking this step. Lost in each other. A whimper of protest died on his lips at the loss of full body contact when Ziva placed her hands on his chest and sat up, and was replaced by a groan as she started moving up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

His eyes darted all over her, from her smoldering eyes to her parted lips, over her small, perky breasts to where they were joined. Her hips were picking up speed, and he ran his hands over her strong thighs, feeling the muscles below the velvety soft skin strain with her movements. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew the cast on his right wrist was probably scraping her skin none too gently, but the overwhelming fire coursing through his body made it hard to stop. He needed to feel more of her.

"Closer," he grunted, trying hard to focus his eyes on hers. He put a hand around her wrist and tugged gently.

Ziva leaned down, her mouth less than an inch from his, her nipples barely caressing his chest, when she looked at him with hooded eyes and huskily asked, "Like this?"

Tony bruised her lips with his as he lost control, wrapped his arms around her waist and shoulders, pulling her flush to his body, and started pounding into her. He swallowed her surprised gasp greedily and was urged on when she sucked on his tongue desperately.

The sound of their moans and bodies coming together, combined with the feeling of Ziva all over him, all around him was getting too much, and Tony knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

He sloppily kissed his way to the soft skin of her neck, then moved to her ear and murmured hoarsely, "You're never close enough."

Ziva shuddered and gasped for air as she clenched around him, bringing him with her, shockwaves rippling through him.

Her face was buried in his neck and he was secretly relieved she hadn't made a move to slide off of him yet. Then again, his arms were still wrapped around her, trapping her against him gently.

"Why exactly did we wait this long to have sex?" She sounded slightly out of breath.

"Because we're idiots," he chuckled lowly. His fingers started trailing all over her back.

Ziva looked up at him skeptically, yet unable to hide the crinkles around her eyes. "Well, obviously you are an idiot. I on the other hand, am not." The tip of her tongue touched the corner of her mouth again and his heart skipped a beat, the way it always did when she did that.

"I'm pretty sure you're an even bigger idiot at relationships than I am, Ziva," he teased, nuzzling her nose.

"I would threaten you with bodily harm…" She sucked on his bottom lip. "But I am exhausted." A quick peck on his lips. "And I need your body in one piece for what I have in mind later on."

"I always knew you were only interested in my body," he replied, getting lost in her eyes.

Ziva snorted. "Whatever helps you sleep better at night."

"Well, after a month-long thorough investigation, that would appear to be you, Ziva."

His honesty and seriousness took both of them by surprise, and he briefly feared he'd gone too far too fast. No matter how many times he'd planned to broach the subject of them, he'd always chickened out at the last second, opting for a quick joke instead.

Her lips parted as if to say something, then she gave him that small smile she reserved just for him and kissed him slowly, deeply, and he knew he'd said the right thing, after all.

§

The alarm woke both of them from a deep sleep that Monday morning. Tony's left arm flailed wildly in the direction the sound was coming from without actually hitting the offending device. It didn't stop until Ziva smoothly reached out an arm and pressed the right button, before molding her back to his chest again.

He wrapped his left arm around her, pulling her closer, enjoying the warmth of her body against his, and the heat building inside of him as he remembered why there weren't any clothes separating them this fine morning.

He inhaled deeply and sighed. "It's Sunday, right? Work with me here. We can pretend it's Groundhog Day," he murmured in her ear.

Ziva turned her head, brow furrowed, then asked, voice laced with sleep, "What is Groundhog Day?"

Tony raised his eyebrows and leaned on his elbow to look at her. "Well, I guess I know which movie we're watching tonight."

"Really?" She sounded disappointed. "Watching a movie wasn't exactly what I had in mind for tonight." She rolled her hips back for emphasis.

He grinned, feeling a tingle run through his body again. "You were right," he drawled and softly touched his lips to hers.

"I am always right, you're going to have to be more specific," she said huskily before lightly biting on his bottom lip, then soothing it with her tongue.

"I'm an idiot," he said with a smile before deepening the kiss and preventing the chuckle from leaving her mouth.

Ziva broke the kiss and turned to lie on her back so she could place a hand on his cheek.

"Only sometimes," she said earnestly, before pecking him on the lips and sliding her hand down to rest over his heart briefly. "I am going to take a shower and-"

"Do you need a hand?" he leered and winked.

Ziva got out of bed, ignoring his pout, and continued, "And make breakfast."

He relished the fact that he was now allowed to admire her naked body as she walked over to the bathroom, swinging her hips enticingly.

"Perhaps I could use a hand tonight," she said seductively as she looked over her shoulder. "If you're not too busy watching a movie," she added before closing the bathroom door behind her.