Note from the Author: Chapter 2 is coming, and is a simple "Behind The Scenes" post which has no story information, but rather discusses why I wrote this and how the story came to be. The end of Chapter 1 is the end of the story.

Thanks SO MUCH to my intelligent, patient beta abstractartist whose affinity for reading long passages of this to me during the editting process caused me to blush uncontrollably.

Enjoy.

Tony finally heard a knock at his door. As he lit a final candle, blowing out the match and dropping it in the trash can next to the bedside table, he ran to the door. Within seconds he was catching his breath at the door, pulling it open to reveal an anxious Ziva.

"Thank you for getting the door, Tony." She looked relieved to see him.

"My pleasure," he grinned as she slid in through the open door.

"Not yet" she smiled, walking past him as he closed the door and spun around where she met him with an attack. Tony's shoulder blades hit the door first before he curled his back to soften the blow as she held him there, staring up past slight stubble to see a mixture of excitement and caution in his eyes. "Relax, Tony," she said as she let him go. "I'm not that easy."

Tony rolled his shoulders, wincing as he worked the kinks out of his back. He wanted to ensure that everything was in order first: "Checklist."

"My cell phone is on in my living room. McGee thinks I'm too tired to do anything. Director Shepard has a social function tonight so I'm sure she won't try to get a hold of us."

"Alibis?"

"This is such a turn-on, Tony."

"I'd like to spend my favorite night of the week with a clear head, Ziva."

"Fine. I am at home watching a movie."

"And I'm doing the same thing: here, not at your place."

They had the same routine every week. With Gibbs in Mexico for the past three months, spending more time together and becoming close had been inevitable. Gone were the days of 10pm assignments and pulling all-nighters just to find a killer. Tony ran a tight ship, but didn't want to end up drinking nothing but coffee and bourbon twenty years down the line.

"Shall we?" Tony introduced Ziva to his room and she happily obliged, walking in and closing the door. He knocked, yanking at the cold handle, but it was locked.

"Uh, Ziva?" He knocked on the door, getting no response save for the rustling of sheets. "You know how the first time we met, you thought I was having Phone sex? Well, I wasn't, and I don't want to be now, either!" He tried the door again; it creaked open to reveal his dimly candlelit room. Ziva was under the covers. "Playing hard to get?"

"You will not know, Tony, until you actually try to get me." She pulled the covers back up over her face and Tony sighed while scrambling towards his bed, pulling his long-sleeved tee shirt over his head. She raised the covers to allow him in before tossing them back over his body. He slid over next to her, draping his arm across her chest.

They lay there quietly for a moment until Ziva spoke up. "Tony. Last week was your turn. This week is mine." She sat up and leaned forward, a pillow between her lap and chest as she slouched. Tony slowly sat up, straddling her body with his stomach to her back. He worked his fingers through the tension in her bare shoulders and neck. She whimpered as his fingers diffused the many pockets of pressure lining her spine, alleviating from her body the physical manifestation of the mental stress her job force-fed her on a daily basis.

His hands reached the small of her back, working up towards her neck. He stopped, kissing her right shoulder blade before draping his hands over her shoulders, dangling them in front of her face. "Feel better, Ziva?"

"Much." She reached her left arm across her body where he held his right hand. As he pulled his hand back, she pressed hard on the back of his palm with her thumb. Tony stiffened and froze under the power of her thumb tap as she slid away from him, pinning his wrists to the bed as he sat there helpless. Ziva straddled his stomach and seductively lowered her face to his neck, sliding her tongue lightly along his jawline before flicking his earlobe with it. "One-nothing, Tony."

Tony bucked his hips, knocking Ziva off balance long enough to snap forward to a seated position, She fell backwards to the bed as tony crossed his legs over her chest to keep her from moving. He sat up and rested his hands on his calves. "One-all. Let's see you get out of this one."

Ziva tickled Tony's feet before he rolled away, the two facing each other from opposite sides of the bed. Moving forward on their knees towards each other, they grabbed at each others arms, trying to get the advantage before wrestling each other to the sheets while sounds of distress and effort escaped their lips.

"Ow, Ziva, that hurt. Ow." Tony fell to the bed on his side, holding his arm.

"What? I did not even do anything. What is wrong?" Ziva leaned over Tony as he writhed in pain. She bent over to get a look at his bicep when he used his calf to knock her off her knees, a huge grin splitting his face as he straddled her.

"Knew that'd work."

"Yeah, alright, you win this time. You're such a joker, Tony."

Tony smacked his lips and licked around them menacingly. "A little fight in ya'. I like that."

"The Dark Knight: Christian Bale. Heath Ledger."

"Very good, Ziva."

"Yes, but it's my week. So get off of me. Now."

"Did I ever say it was your week?"

"And now you're being two-faced. Isn't that another character? Harvey De—" Ziva's wit was silenced by his sudden kiss. Once she relaxed, in the aftertaste of her words she found why her Tuesdays seemed to drag on forever until they were together. They came up for breath a minute later.

"Yeah, Ziva, I know it's your week."

She smacked his chest. "Well then why did you—"

"Because when you're not strapped with knives, it's a lot of fun to make you mad…"

"Hmmph." Ziva rolled over and Tony straddled her thighs, reaching for a bottle of massage oil he kept in the nightstand. He let some drip between her shoulder blades, watching it glide down her back before pressing the bottle closed and placing it behind his back between her legs.

"Ah! Cold!"

"Ziva, you know it's coming every week. Do you want me to microwave it for you?"

"No, no, just…" Her words trailed off as strong hands met her back and finished the job they had started before they wrestled. She groaned softly in pleasure "Riiiiight there, Tony." He worked his hands through her lower back and up her spine, ensuring each vertebrae was aligned, kneading out each knot as it slid under his fingers and palms. "Tony, how did you get so good at this?"

Tony's hands slid slowly up her back until they reached her black lace bra, snapping the clasp open between his thumb and middle finger. "Physical Education majors have to learn about the human body, Ziva." He hesitated. "And to... impress a girl I was dating at the time…"

"I knew it had to be a girl, Tony. And where did you learn to snap a woman's bra open?"

"I can stop, if you want." He tapped his right ring, middle and index finger over and over impatiently on her spine, just below where her bra was just clasped.

"Sorry. I'll behave"

"As I was saying, it seemed like a natural extension of my knowledge of the human body to learn how to relax and de-stress it. And it's served me very well since."

"Verrrrrry well" Ziva purred. Her shoulders and neck were the last to feel Tony's oiled hands work their magic. He eased pain and tension she didn't know she had without pulling or pinching her skin. She was too relaxed to move when he tapped her sides.

"All done my little ninja." She groaned as she elevated herself with her forearms, her bra sliding down her arms. As she rolled over, Tony tossed it on the floor and climbed on top of her. "So nice of you to match. Finally." She smiled, wrapping her wrist around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. His hands grazed her shoulders and breasts, resting on her hips for a moment before sliding up her sides again. He sat up and sighed.

"Everything alright, Tony?"

"Just… Happy." He rolled onto his back, nudging her to indicate that they switch positions. She obliged and straddled his stomach with her hands holding down his wrists. She lowered her body towards his, pinning his hands down above his head with her breasts inches from his eager lips. Then she rocked back and rested her body on his, stomach to stomach, chest to chest. Tony smiled. "Tease."

"You love it." Ziva pulled the covers over her head, disappearing down his body leaving a trail with her fingers.

"Yeah, I duwhoa... mmm." Ziva's lips trailed along the upper edge of his boxers while fingers from the hand with which she wasn't supporting herself plucked at them, the elastic snapping against his skin starkly contrast with the sweetness she conveyed through her kisses just inches away. When he couldn't take it anymore, he reached down and grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up his body. She inserted a knee between his legs to ensure he wouldn't pull her too far.

"Can I help you, Tony?" She smiled coyly.

"That was unbearable." He panted.

"I'm sorry, Tony. How can I make it up to you?"

"Let me have a turn." Though she struggled, he pushed her onto her back and kissed her lips, her muscles relaxing under his touch. A well timed, soft, sweet kiss on her lips was her weakness, the catalyst for a brief but intense fantasy she played out in her mind. Tony began kissing along her jaw line to her earlobe, down the side of her neck, trailing his lips moistly across her shoulders down to her chest. He left a snaking trail of kisses across her supple skin from one side of her body to the other. Generally about an inch apart and not for very long, he knew just where to take his time, planting extra kisses designed to excite her along her breasts, nipples and hipbones.

She writhed under his roving lips, his tongue sliding along his lips occasionally to ensure Ziva felt nothing but pleasure. He kissed all the way down her body, stopping at the top of her black lace boyshorts, lifting his lips from her skin.

"Had enough?" She nodded anxiously. "Well, I don't think you've made it up to me yet." Tony smirked as he went back to work.

Ziva let her head drop to the pillow, no longer willing to subject herself to the additional torture of watching him kiss her stomach. He followed the trail of moistened circles on her silky skin back up her stomach and chest, again spending more time on her hipbones, breasts and nipples. When he finally reached her face again, after what seemed like seconds for Tony and hours for Ziva, they locked lips first, then eyes.

"That was cruel." She swallowed hard, catching her breath. "My turn." She pushed at his chest until he finally gave in and fell to her side. She climbed on top, facing his feet and slid her hands down his stomach and over his boxers, down to his knees and back up to the leg-holes of his shorts. She gave a tug as he raised his body to allow them to slide off. He pleaded with her as she slid her hands up and down his legs. Ziva defended her torturous stalling, "You made me wait, Tony."

"Never again, I swear."

"Why do I not believe that?" She placated him as he moaned, massaging him up and down with her right hand. She batted his fingers away with her left hand as they began creeping up towards the edge of her underwear. "You can't wait your turn?"

"You're making it awfully hard, Ziva." He moaned as her hand pumped up and down for a few seconds, giving him a tantalizing indication of what was to come. She turned around on top of him.

"Fine, then. It is your turn." He immediately sat up, knocking Ziva backwards. She landed on her back between his legs. He laid his hands on her shoulders before allowing them to glide to her breasts, squeezing them lightly before he slowly moved his hands further down Ziva's stomach. He slid his curled fingers between her smooth skin and the black lace of her underwear as she pushed her body upwards, allowing him to easily slide them to her knees. She lowered her body to the bed between Tony's legs again, and he flung them off her ankles to the floor.

"Yes, Tony?"

"DiNozzo's finish what they start." He slid back with his hands, getting onto his knees before placing Ziva's legs down on either side of him. He kissed her hipbones again, trailing kisses along her lower stomach and onto her thighs. She moaned as he very deliberately skipped her most sensitive area, opting instead to kiss down her inner thighs almost to her knees. She quickly slid her thighs together, squeezing his face until he stopped and pulled his face up to stare at her. "Yes?"

"You're killing me Tony. Get on with it!"

"You're getting soft, Ziva. Normally I have to ask you to translate a whole host of Hebrew before you start to beg."

"First off, don't flatter yourself. Secondly, if I must…" She mumbled something seductively in Hebrew which Tony couldn't even hear, let alone understand.

"What's that mean?"

"Finish what you start already." She took him by the back of the head and pressed him into her open legs. She grinned in pleasure before placing one hand behind each of her knees, slowly holding them open at the perfect angle to ensure Tony did his family's name Justice, as no DiNozzo has ever been called bad in bed at anything... by anyone. She moaned under his flicking tongue, enjoying moments of back-arching, name-moaning, Hebrew-infused ecstasy before she pulled at his hair and closed her legs. He looked up a her with a smug smile... She knelt up and pushed him to his back.

"What did you think?" He arrogantly inquired, knowing her answer before asking the question. Ziva climbed on top of him.

"I don't even want to know where you learned to do that." Before he could laugh, she slowly sank her hips down in his lap. His smile faded into a moan as she cautiously lowered herself down on top of him.

His arrogance got the best of him again. "Tight fit?"

Ziva rested, her thighs spread over Tony's waist, hands on his chest. "I don't put away my knives quickly, either, and the sheaths have plenty of extra room." She smacked his face twice to try to knock some of his vanity away. She began to rock up and down on top of him and his humble smile again morphed into a pleasured moan. As she gyrated her slender hips in his lap, he bucked his hips to meet hers as they dropped.

Together both of them began to lose control, overcome by emotions, ecstasy and the realization that almost a year of tantalizing flirting and tension, day in and day out, could not possibly come to fruition often enough for either of them. The racing of their hearts made it harder to keep their bodies at a slow, steady pace, tempted by thoughts of the explosion of pleasure that would soon ripple through every nerve in their bodies—the one that would never be familiar enough. They each took turns slowing things down, calming and soothing the other before speeding up, wanting nothing more than to share their ecstasy with the other. For about fifteen minutes, they struggled to pace themselves, before finally, Tony took control.

My breaths were short and Ziva's beautiful body hovered on top of mine, our sweat on her toned stomach glistening in the candlelight. "I can't do this anymore. There's no way. Are you ready?"

"Whenever you are." Thank God. She rocked back and forth, pulling her knees out from under her, squatting on her toes and holding my chest. "Go, Tony."

Both of our moans turned to screams, mine in English, many of hers in Hebrew. I bounced into her from underneath just hard enough to cause her feet to leave the bed, but not so hard as to knock her off balance. She panted through her moans, contracting at just the right moments. All this practice is making her really good at this.

"Oh, God, Ziva, that's it baby…" After about a minute, I knew there was no turning back. No slowing down or stopping would prevent this surge of pleasure building inside of me. A few carefully timed contractions and I was absolutely done for. "Oh my God, Ziva, right – fucking - there - ohhhh God…"

We screamed together, the culmination of all this work reaching her just before it reached me. Every muscle in her body tightened: her hands gripped my chest, ankles pinched my thighs, and she squeezed around me so hard that I couldn't hold off any longer. I exploded inside of her, shivers racing through my body, followed by waves of relaxing pleasure. About ten seconds later, Ziva collapsed onto my chest. We panted there together. A minute or so elapsed as we caught our breath.

"You forgot the water, again, didn't you?" Fuck. I did.

"Yeah, Ziva, I did." I could barely speak. "You're crazy if you think I'm moving."

"You're dead If you think you're not." Touche… Fine… I rolled over and headed out to the kitchen, resting my hands on my knees before pulling the fridge open. Pulling on the handle helped to stable myself, my legs still shaking. I grabbed two bottles of water and stumbled back to the bedroom, holding onto anything along my path. Is that how they do it in Mossad? Damn.

I sat on the edge of the bed, nearly inhaling the half-liter bottle in one gulp. Ziva's eyes were closed but she reached for her bottle, instead touching my back. I reached around, holding the cold bottle to her stomach. She hit it away and punched me in the side.

"Ow!"

"You deserved it, Tony."

She drank the bottle as quickly as I did and tossed it on the floor. I laid down, rolled over and cuddled up behind her. I kissed her shoulder blade and drifted to sleep.

Tony woke, his eyes opening, adjusting to the dying candlelight. His memories of those days still lingered with him, dominating his dreams. They clung to his mind through the good days and the bad, presiding over his life while he lay in the bed which had witnessed their activities so many times. They usually brought him comfort and closure, but during her Aliyah, he found his most intimate of dreams haunting, keeping him from resting peacefully during the only times he could shake them from his consciousness.

But for tonight, that didn't matter. Ziva was home and safe, and Tony felt his dreams wouldn't haunt him any longer. He rolled over and laid a kiss on her shoulder before drifting back to sleep.