Title: Untitled
Disclaimers: NCIS, the rights to the show and its characters do not belong to me. No money was made by this. "Shake It" is a song by Metro Station.
A/N: English is not my native language. So please forgive me my grammar and spelling mistakes.
Spoilers: S7, AU because they have obviously been a couple for some time for the sake of this story
Pairing: Tiva [Tony/Ziva]
Summary: Now she is lying in front of him, completely naked, trusting him with her body and heart. And he has never felt so worthless in all his life.
A/N2: Doesn't have a title. It went from "Shake It" to "Worth Eternity" to "Bedroom Dancing" to "Dammitgimmeafreakingtitle", and then I gave up trying to find one. Btw, I am annoyed with 's Nazi rule on break markers. I always use * ~ * ~ * when I write to indicate time jumps or change of locations or POV, and it does not even transport that into the uploaded documents any more! GAH!

WARNING! Contains adult themes and scenes. Nothing overly graphic, and I still think it's very high T, but feel free to tell me if I am mistaken.

She has been back for months now. And they have been getting closer and closer again. If it were not them, you could say that they were a couple. But it is them, and couple does not even begin to describe it. They are partners at work, best friends in their off-hours, "dating" if someone needed a label for what they were doing in the evenings and on the weekends. And sometimes, sometimes he thinks that maybe, just maybe, they are soul-mates. One soul, two pieces in two different bodies.

It is there in the way she smiles at him. It is in the way his heart speeds up when he hears her voice drop a few octaves to the husky whisper that he has labeled her "bedroom voice". It is in the way her hand fits perfectly into his. It is in the way she calls him just to say goodnight. It is in the way she is beginning to open up again.

He is the only one that she talks to about what has happened in Somalia. Well, at least as far as their team at work is concerned. He knows that their boss has read the report, and that Ducky has done a quick check up when they first came back from their revenge-mission-turned-rescue. But he also knows that even though they have read what has happened and seen pictures of the marks on her body, she has not spoken to them about how the marks have gotten there. And he is also sure that she will not tell Abby or McGoo about it, not within this life at least. She thinks of them as better people, in her eyes, they are so innocent despite the cruelty they are often faced with. She cannot tell them about what has happened to her, because it would shatter part of their innocence forever, and it may just be the last pin to drop.

They have been dating for four months now. And while they have left first and second base behind already, she is not ready to let this continue further just yet. And he loves her too much to push her. Yes, he loves her, and he is not afraid to admit it any more. He tells her he loves her when she calls him and he knows neither of them is at work. He whispers it into her hair when they hug. He mumbles it against her lips when they kiss. He cannot repeat it often enough. And she has told him she loves him, too. Not as often, but he understand. It still hurts her to say it, in a way. He has had someone before he has said the words to, even though the circumstances around them were not the best. But he has said it before, and he doubts she has ever felt as much as she is feeling now, or has ever said the words to someone outside of her family.

The movie night had been his idea. Apparently, she has other plans. Because as soon as the movie starts, she is snuggling into his side, drawing soft circles on his chest and abdomen, her hand drifting south, but before she reaches his pants, she draws it back up, as if she is second-guessing herself. He lets her ponder her decision and dilemma while pretending to watch the movie, all the time toying with a strand of her hair.

She leans up and places a soft kiss on his lips before drawing back and searching his face, his eyes. He raises an eyebrow at her in silent question, patiently waiting until she figures out the answer to her question. Again, she leans in, this time capturing his lips with more passion, running her tongue over them, begging for entrance. He groans into her mouth as he gives in to the kiss, his hands finding their way to her waist. Gently, carefully, he starts pulling her into his lap, not roughly as he would have done a year before. She needs to know it is him she is kissing, and he wants her to know that they will only go as far as she allows them to.

She shifts in his lap, brushing up against him, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. He can feel her breasts, and his blood is rushing south. He wants her, wants her badly, and pulls her flush against him. Moving his mouth from hers, he kisses his way along her jawline and neck until he finds her pulse and begins to suckle on the soft sweet skin. She throws her head back to give him more access and moans loudly in pleasure before leaning in, burying her face against his neck and licking over his skin. She is panting and her hands are moving between them. Before he registers what she is doing, cold air hits his torso as she undoes the second and third button of his shirt.

His hands that have somehow slipped under her shirt come back to the surface and he grabs her shoulders, pushing her away from him slightly so he can look into her eyes, swallowing deeply. If this continues, he is not sure if he can stop when she needs him to. He wants to tell her that he will, but right now he is not thinking clearly. They are playing with fire, and he does not want her to get burned again.

She gives him a soft smile before capturing his lips again, her eyes never leaving his, not closing against the sensations. Then she gets up slowly, brushing against the bulge in his pants, and he throws his head back to his the back of the sofa with a loud groan. She takes his hands and tugs him to his feet before slowly walking him to her bedroom. On the way, she strips him of his shirt.

Standing in front of her bed, she allows him to pull her close again and engages in another passionate kiss. It feels so right to be kissing her like this, to be touching her like this. Carefully, he slowly lets his hands wander to the hem of her shirt and leans back, looking into her eyes as he begins to lift it. She blinks and bites her lip shortly before raising her arms, allowing him to pull the garment off of her. His pants follow soon, then his shoes and socks. He draws the line at his boxers. When she tries to reach inside, he grabs her wrist and shakes his head, kissing the tip of her nose teasingly. As long as he wears them, he knows they will eventually stop this. And it is not like she is naked and he is overdressed. Quite the other way around, actually.

They kiss and touch, he runs his hand over her flat abdomen, feeling the soft scars the summer has left her with. Her back feels worse, but he does not care. She shudders in his embrace when he unbuttons her jeans and he is afraid that he has gone too far, but his name from her lips is murmured in anticipation and need, not fear. And she still knows who she is with. Carefully, he tugs at the pants and they fall to the floor. She tenses briefly before she steps out of them.

Her underwear follows later, and he is staring at her. She is lying in the middle of her bed, not ashamed of her nakedness. There is no need to cover herself, and she looks at him with so much lust and love in her eyes that he wishes he could disappear. He sees her and the scars on her body and soul and wants to hide somewhere. Because this is so real. He has been waiting for this ever since she came back, ever since he saw her in that filthy hole. He has wanted for her to be back in his arms in that sense. He longed to have her back in his life and is oh-so-grateful that she finally is, in almost every sense.

And he still remembers the first time they tried to have sex after she returned. She had a flashback when his hands moved under her shirt, and whipped his legs out from under him before he even knew what was happening. They have rarely gotten as far as removing their shirts during their make-out sessions. But now she is lying in front of him, completely naked, trusting him with her body and heart. And he has never felt so worthless in all his life, so undeserving of the things he is blessed with. She is perfect, despite the marks on her skin or rather, because of them, and he is not, he never was.

He slowly drops to his knees on the mattress and crawls to her. Hovering above her, he sees the brief flash of fear in her eyes, and immediately drops to her side. She closes her eyes, but he gently guides her chin to look at him, tells her to open them and look at him so she will not slip into another flashback. When she does, tears are swimming in her dark orbs, and he knows the moment has passed. They will not be sleeping with each other tonight. And it is okay with him. He never thought that he would be able to ignore the physical aspect of a relationship, but with her, sex just doesn't matter that much. Maybe because it would not be having sex, but making love. The kisses and slight touches are enough for him, and he is willing to wait as long as it takes, even if it means forever. For her, he would wait longer than eternity.

He gently pulls her against him and kisses her carefully, gently stroking her hair and wiping away her tears. She apologizes a thousand times, and each time, he shakes his head and kisses her hair, her forehead, her nose, her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. It is not her fault, it never was, and it never will be. He is okay with waiting for as long as it takes because it is his pathetic way of promising forever, if she wants it. And the thought that she could want it, that she wants her forever to be with him scares him like crazy, and it makes him feel fuzzy and warm at the same time.

She cuddles close to him as he throws the blanket over them. He feels her soft skin against his and draws nonsense patterns on her back, staring into her dark eyes with a slight smile on his lips. The feeling of her scars does not even register with him any more. They do not feel strange or foreign, but like they belong to her. When he first began to gently trace them for the first time months ago, she flinched and shuddered, but now she gives him a small smile and rests her head on his chest, giving an almost content sigh.

He has no idea how long it will take for her to heal. He does not know when they will finally get to make love again. And he does not give a damn. Because this, having her in his arms and feeling her breathing and her heart beat is all he has wished for for four long months. It is more than he thought he would ever be able to have again.

THE END

Review? Pretty please. Title suggestions are welcome.

And I am still looking for a native English speaker to beta a Tiva story of 5k words. And someone for something else. Maybe.