A/N: Sorry this has been such a long time coming. My head just hasn't been in a Quake place. (And for those of you who are asking, it's still not in a Famiglia place. Sorry.) But the final installment is finally here, and I can now stop feeling so guilty. Enjoy!
Very slight dirtiness at the end, but it's nothing close to my usual smut.
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.

In his wildest dreams, Tony never thought that one kiss could turn into something more.

Scratch that. In his wildest dreams, that one kiss with Ziva turned into crazy, scorching hot, bed-breaking sex every night of the week until he died. But he didn't think it would ever really happen. They'd lived with the earthquakes and tornados and hurricanes and droughts of their relationship for six years, and in that time they'd become survivalists. They could stand more or less steady through each disaster and then expertly dig through the wreckage of it for pieces to salvage and rebuild. Tony assumed it would continue on that way until either one of them was too damaged to be repaired again and hobbled away, completely broken, or until one of them died. He never thought they'd actually be able to stop the quakes for long enough to find a win/win resolution.

He wasn't stupid or naive enough to think that the quakes would stop just because they'd managed to be honest for once. And frankly, he didn't want them to. They were part of their relationship—part of what made them them—and if they stopped for too long then the relationship would most likely fall apart through boredom or lack of passion. As far as Tony was concerned, they should let the quakes continue.

And they did. Except that the next tremor to hit their relationship was not figurative, but literal. Sort of.

To commit

It had been six days since Tony had his ass handed to him and had regrettably ruled out activities of consummation. He and Ziva had begun the week on tenterhooks as they awaited the opportunity to seal the serious-if-glossed-over deal they'd made. But when they'd caught a triple homicide before the ink was even dry on their cold case, their excitement had slowly eroded into exhaustion. By day five, exhaustion had taken a left turn towards uncertainty over whether any sealing of deals was ever going to happen, given the length of time between agreement and action. By the morning of day six, Tony was exhibiting signs of crankiness on par with those of a man who had gone a week without sex when he usually got it every day. Apparently the part of his brain that controlled sex-related emotion (i.e. 98 per cent of it) had wanted it so badly that it had actually been convinced that he'd been having it all along.

He got to leave the office early on Friday afternoon to attend his final check up at the hospital. But he was so tired and frustrated with the week he'd had that when he threw his backpack over his shoulder and given Gibbs and McGee a curt goodbye, Tony had actually forgotten why he was so frustrated. Not even almost walking straight into Ziva as she stepped off the elevator and he stepped on reminded him. He was just too focused on getting out of the office and leaving his crappy week behind.

"Hey!" Ziva said as she watched him blow past her with little more than a tired smile.

Tony hit the button for the ground floor. "Hey."

"You are going?" she asked.

Tony nodded as he fished around in the front pocket of his backpack for his car keys. "Yeah. Just got a final check up for my head. See you Monday."

He caught a glimpse of Ziva's eyes widening in surprise before the doors slid shut between them and the elevator started its descent. It was not long afterwards that Tony's brain caught up with his mouth, and with sudden and ferocious panic he slammed his palms against the doors as if the act would magically open them again.

"NO!" he yelled at them, and then directed his next question at himself. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He couldn't answer himself, and the elevator didn't return him to the bullpen 30 seconds in the past for a do-over. He took his hands from the door so that he could deliver himself a brutal slap to the back of the head, and then stooped to pick up his car keys that had fallen to the floor. See you Monday? he repeated in his head in total disbelief. Girl who I told a few days ago that I wanted a relationship with, and have been looking for a time all week to consummate the agreement with. I don't plan on seeing you this weekend because I AM A GODDAMN IDIOT!

The elevator doors slid open in the foyer and Tony walked through them in a dread-induced daze. His stupid, distracted brain had been the thing to get him into this extremely enjoyable kissing situation, and now it was responsible for booting him out of it. He couldn't imagine that Ziva would let this go without breaking at least one of his kneecaps. And only then might she give him the opportunity to fix it.

Fix it. He stopped abruptly before walking out of the building, causing an agent who looked approximately 12 years old to bump into him. He murmured an apology and stepped out of the flow of pedestrian traffic to consider his options. Should he go straight back up there and talk to her? No, Gibbs would know straight away that something fishy was going on, and Tony was hoping to keep el jefe in the dark for a little while longer. Maybe he should call her? And say what? Sorry, I forgot that we were supposed to have sex. You know, if you're still interested. Maybe you've changed your mind since the weekend. Come to your senses. Which I would understand, since I am clearly intellectually challenged.

He rubbed his chin and considered a third option. He could text her. Soz I forgot our plans. LOL! C U 2nite? xx. Yeah, he didn't think that would go down too well. God, he was so out of practice at all this. He knew exactly how to deliberately disappoint a woman so that she would never want you to call her again, but he'd completely forgotten how to make a woman he actually wanted to be with happy.

He would have to call her. Not right now, though. He'd go to his appointment, give her an hour or two to calm down, then call her, apologize profusely, ask if she wanted to see him because he absolutely wanted to see her, and then apologize again. And if she didn't want to see him tonight, well, that sucked. But he wouldn't throw in the towel. He'd just give her space and try again tomorrow.

As he signed with resignation and walked out of the NCIS building to head to his appointment, Tony shook his head and echoed Danny Glover: I'm getting too old for this shit.

Despite anecdotal evidence to support a diagnosis of a significant head injury, Tony left the hospital two hours later with a clean bill of health. It was coming up on 1700, and on a normal day there was little chance that Ziva would have left the office by then. But the team wasn't working on any active cases today and they'd already put in a significant amount of overtime that week. He thought it was possible that she was someplace outside of Gibbs' earshot by now, and his eagerness to sort his mess out had him reaching for his cell phone before he'd reached his car in the parking lot. He took a deep breath, dialed her number, and then sent a quick prayer that she wasn't as frustrated with him as he was.

"David," she answered in her usual sharp tone, and Tony hoped that was just because she was still in work mode.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound normal. "I just left the hospital with a clean bill of health. Are you heading home?"

"Not yet," she replied, and he was relieved to hear her tone soften to her normal speaking tone. "I have another report to finish."

Tony stopped wincing so hard and continued the conversation with only mild caution. "So, you might be home in about two hours?"

Ziva 'hmm'ed as she thought it over. "Yes, that would be about right."

"And do you have plans after that?" he asked carefully.

The question was met with a few seconds' silence, and Tony started to wince again. Had he pushed it too far?

"Are you being deliberately dense?" she finally asked.

The question was harsh, but she sounded more amused than annoyed. He decided to chance playing with her. A little charm to grease the wheels.

"I can see why you would think that, but I'm not," he told her. "And the doctor says I definitely don't have a brain injury, so I can't blame that either."

Ziva gave a soft snort. "So, this is just you?"

Tony nodded at himself in the reflection of his car window. "Yeah. But you've known me for six years, so you can't act like you didn't already know that. And you've given the impression lately that you still kind of like me despite the obvious density of my brain."

"Wonders will never cease," she muttered, but he was sure there was at least a tiny bit of affection in her voice. "I am free."

Tony unleashed a smile and quietly sighed with utter relief. Dodged a bullet much? "Okay. Then I might come by?"

"Might?" she questioned quickly and sharply.

"Will," he revised, just as quickly. "I will come by, Ziva. In about two hours."

"Okay, bye," she said, and then hung up abruptly. She might have been playing him, but Tony decided not to take offence. She was still in the office, and Tony knew all too well how quickly personal conversations had to end once you caught sight of a scowling Gibbs charging towards you.

He smiled as he slipped his phone back into his pocket and got into the car. He might have screwed up, but the fact that she still wanted to see him tonight had to mean that she loved him, right? Because Ziva David was not the kind of woman who suffered fools gladly. It seemed she was making allowances for him, and Tony hoped that she'd continue to do so for a really long time. Because God knew it would be easier for her to do that than for him to stop doing stupid things.

Besides, if he'd vowed then and there to stop doing stupid things, he might never have made it to her apartment that night at all. He didn't know it when he was getting into his car at the hospital, but things were about to get weird.

At the exact moment that Tony stepped onto the street on his way to Ziva's house, the Capitol went into meltdown. He'd heard on the radio as he was driving back from the hospital that a gas plant near the river had caught fire, and that they were evacuating the docks around the area. Tony didn't devote too much thought to the event when he'd heard about it (his mind was kind of focused on other things). But all that changed when the soles of his Zengas touched the pavement outside his apartment building and an almighty BOOM made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his hand automatically reach for his gun. Half a breath later the ground beneath his feet shook—a real quake to complement the emotional tremors that had been rattling Tony and Ziva's relationship—and people on the street around him started running for cover.

If he had to be honest, Tony's first thought was of another terror attack. But then a guy jogged past him talking into his cell phone about the gas plant fire, and Tony relaxed. Sort of. It might not have been an attack from enemies foreign, but an explosion large enough to shake the ground miles from its source was definitely something to worry about. While he might not personally have to be involved in policing the incident, it still had the potential to screw up his evening. Ziva's apartment was quite a bit closer to the river than his, and if they started evacuating people then she was potentially within the danger zone.

If he were superstitious, Tony might have thought that the explosion on top of his screw up that afternoon was a sign. A giant 'Wrong way, go back!' sign to warn him against continuing on the journey that had started six long years ago. He did have some superstitions. He wouldn't walk under a ladder, he didn't trust black cats and he firmly believed that if someone was causing you grief and you wanted to get them out of your life, you just had to write their name on a piece of paper, stick it in the freezer, and the universe would take care of the rest. (Okay, that was something stupid that his aunts had told him as a kid, but the one time he'd sheepishly done it, it had worked brilliantly and he would not question it further.) But in this case, when a relationship with the woman he'd been in love with for years was on the line, he would reject all superstitions.

Come hell, high water, ass kickings or major gas plant explosions that would probably require a good portion of the District to evacuate, Tony was not going to delay this evening any longer.

He and his Mustang persevered to within three blocks of her apartment before traffic became a slow, tangled mess. Cars were stalled at all angles as people abandoned traffic laws in an effort to either leave the area or get closer to the action. He was going slowly enough to feel another explosion shake the ground, and the distraction caused a mini pile up in the other lane. The car to his left bumped into the back of the car ahead, which then rolled into the car in front of it. Tony's eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror and he braced himself for a corresponding bump from the SUV behind him, but he'd lucked out and managed to score one of the few drivers in the District that had respect for stopping distance tailing him. Even still, he felt that on this monumental day in his life, he could only push good luck so far. Surely he'd been stupid to try to get this far in such a mess, so he decided that three blocks away was close enough. He found a spare space on the street beside a deli, locked the car, prayed that no one would get so distracted that they smashed into the side of it, and then took of towards Ziva's apartment on foot.

The power in her building had been knocked out and the elevators weren't working, so Tony climbed six flights of stairs to get to her. Perhaps it was karma, he thought as he shook the dizziness from going around in circles from his head. Not the explosion, but the traffic and the stair-climbing. Perhaps if he hadn't walked out of the office today like he didn't have any reason to want to see her this weekend then the elevators in her building would have still been working. Perhaps this was a lesson for him to learn. Pay attention, or else spend time with the StairMaster.

Not that he was superstitious.

He took his time to wander down the corridor to her apartment so that he might catch his breath a little before he presented himself to the woman who thought that a 15-mile run was light exercise. He checked his watch and found that he was a half hour late, but he thought he had a pretty good excuse. It was just a shame that it had happened today, of all days. Particularly since she might still be harboring some irritation with him from the afternoon. He hoped he'd read her mood right on the phone and that she wasn't actually that upset. But there was only one way to find out.

He knocked on her door, and almost before he'd had time to run a smoothing hand through his hair Ziva was standing in front of him. She was wide-eyed and smiling with excitement, but Tony knew that wasn't because of him. Something else had her as animated as a kid unwrapping an Xbox on Christmas morning.

"Did you see the explosion?" she asked in a rush.

Ah, yes. The explosion. An event that was sure to get Ziva David's military blood bumping. He should have anticipated her interest in it.

"I felt it," he told her.

Ziva grabbed his wrist, and he managed to slam the door shut behind him before she forcibly dragged him through her dim apartment to her living room window. She had pushed the glass aside as far as it would go, allowing her to stick her head, shoulders and half her torso out the window.

"Look!" she called back to him.

Tony approached the open window more cautiously than his partner, and his first glance was at the pavement six floors below before her followed her gaze east towards the river. Through the veil of Ziva's curls dancing around in the breeze and the smoke haze that filled the sky, Tony got his first look at the fire raging a few miles away. Even taking into account the explosions he'd felt all the way back at his place, the sheer size of the blaze took him by surprise.

For the love of God, he prayed, please don't let us get evacuated. We have very important things we need to get done tonight.

"You can even feel the heat," Ziva said, turning her head to look at him. "Can you believe it? And I felt the shockwave. It will take them all night and tomorrow to get it under control."

Tony retreated back into the safety of her living room. "Glad I don't have anywhere else to be, then," he said. "Traffic's going to be torture. I'm talking Battlefield Earth kind of torture, Ziva."

"I know," she called back, although he wasn't convinced that she'd even heard him.

He watched with an uncomfortable knot in his stomach as she leaned even further out the window. She rested her stomach against the window frame and pressed her hand against the wall to hold her weight before tipping herself forward to get a better look. Her feet left the floor, and although Tony knew she had the balance and flexibility of a cat that had been practicing yoga for 20 years, he still had visions of her tipping too far and plummeting to her death. That would put quite a damper on his plans for the weekend, to say the least.

He lifted his foot and pressed it against her calf muscles until he'd tipped her all the way back into the apartment and her feet were on the floor. Ziva turned to look at him in question.

"Humor me," he said. "I only got properly mobile myself this morning. I don't want to now have to deal with you breaking your pretty legs."

Ziva smiled and looked down at the pretty legs in question before turning her eyes on him. Her gaze raked from head to toe, almost in the same way it had on that first day they'd met in the bullpen. But now, six years later, there was emotion and history behind the look that made it so much better. Not to mention a heaping dose of sexual desire. Tony was becoming a huge fan of the way she eyeballed him now that she was 'allowed' to.

"How did your appointment go?" she asked. It seemed that he'd wrestled her attention from the fire for the moment.

"Good," he replied. "They said my brain is perfect."

She threw him a look that was 70 per cent disbelief, and 30 per cent affection. "Perfect for what?" she deadpanned.

He smiled wide, encouraging her playfulness. He'd always liked it when she did the verbal tango with him. "Human cannonball work," he replied.

Ziva shook her head. "I do not know how I feel about running away to the circus with you."

Tony got a little tingle in his belly at the idea that she would run away anywhere with him. "They said I'm in the clear," he told her more plainly.

Her smile and nod showed honest relief. "Good."

He was about to suggest what they might be able to do now that he was in the clear and they both had a full weekend of freedom ahead of them when yet another explosion went off across the river. Ziva spun around and shoved her head out the window again as the building trembled and the pictures hanging on her wall shook. In the reflection of the windows in the building across the street, Tony saw an enormous fireball shoot up into the sky. He was now positive that they wouldn't get through the weekend without getting evacuated from her apartment. But maybe they would have a few hours before they had to pack the wagon and head for his place.

"Ziva," he said in response to a sound of wonder that passed her lips. "I can't help but notice that you seem just a little too interested and tingly about the flames and the danger."

She laughed as she returned all parts of her body to the apartment. "What should I be interested in?"

He wasn't sure if it was meant as an invitation, but he took it as one. "Maybe the fact that I haven't kissed you in six days."

Ziva's excited smile turned coy, and she stepped away from the window towards him. "Hmm. I thought you said that you were trying to make a habit of that."

"I was," he confirmed. "I am."

She stood a foot from his chest and lifted one eyebrow. "It seems as though you are breaking it."

His fingers found the hem of her t-shirt and he gave it a tug for emphasis. "You haven't kissed me either," he pointed out.

"Oh, well I have been very busy," she returned.

Tony smiled, and then curled his hand around her hip and pulled her a little closer. "I miss it," he told her seriously.

Her coy smile returned, and then she lifted her hands to cradle his jaw. Tony lowered his head as she pressed her body against his, and then she caught his lips in a soft, slow kiss. He felt her hands leave his face and her arms wrap around his neck, and by the time he'd curled his arms around her back the spark had caught and the kiss had gotten far more demanding and passionate.

Ziva moaned into his mouth as his hands started running up her back and into her hair, but she held back from touching him back. After a few intense seconds, he worked out why.

"Are you still tender everywhere?" she asked in a voice higher and breathier than her usual.

"I'm not tender anywhere," he assured her. "I felt myself up before I came over to be sure."

"I am surprised that you did not ask the nurse to do that for you at the hospital."

"Oh, I'd planned on it," he said as one of his hands traveled down to her butt. "But he had really meaty hands and they just weren't doing it for me."

Ziva chuckled, but before she gave in and started feeling him up herself, she took her arms from around his neck and then gently pressed her hand against the part of his stomach that had been bruised a few days ago. It was still a little bit tender, and he was still kind of blue and grey under his shirt, but it was nothing that would get in the way tonight. She watched him closely as she pressed a little harder, and Tony gave her a self-confident smile.

"See? Completely fine," he told her. "Ready to prove to you exactly how fine it is before another fireball comes towards us and either we get evacuated or you lose interest in me so you can watch—"

He stropped abruptly when her hand slid from his stomach and down a few inches to cup him over his jeans. She lifted her eyebrows to make a point about where her interest was, and by now, Tony was pretty sure that she was past whatever measure of irritation she'd had with him that afternoon.

"Hi," he said, as if making introductions.

Ziva chuckled. "This is not your knee, correct?"

If it didn't feel so nice, he would have laughed. Instead, he shook his head quickly and let her win their six-year-old argument. "No. You are 100 per cent correct this time about what that is."

Ziva smiled triumphantly before kissing him and rubbing the heel of her hand against him. He let out a moan as another tremor rumbled through the building, and then Ziva took a step back. She took his wrist in her hand as she had when he'd first arrived, but this time the tug she gave it was gentle.

"Come with me," she beckoned as she backed up towards her bedroom.

Tony could scarcely remember a time when he'd gone anywhere quite so willingly. Chaos might have been rife on the street below, but for the first time in a long time he and Ziva were the ones taking the quakes in their stride and not worrying about the aftermath. Let everyone else panic. Tonight, the two of them were safe as houses.

I told you up front there would be no smut, remember? So I'm afraid this is it. Thanks for reading!