saturrn-writes

[saturrn-writes]

Updates!

Hi everyone, sorry for the long hiatus. I was finishing my degree and then we moved so I have not had as much free time. I will hopefully have some new fics coming soon.

Unfortunately, Tumblr is headed even farther in a direction that I just can’t support. I may post updates here occasionally, but starting in August any fics of mine will be posted exclusively on my AO3 (I will leave up what I have posted here, but anything new will not be posted here).

Thank you all for your support! Stay safe out there, please get vaccinated if you are able to.

[saturrn-writes]

new fic coming soon, sorry for the wait! life has been busy but hopefully i will have the first part of a multi part fic up soon

[saturrn-writes]

I Guess I Will Never Know (Ziva x Tony)

A/N: This takes place partway through S6E25.

This fic is also posted on AO3. Please do not claim my work as your own.

Summary: Tony, Ziva, Vance, and Gibbs are in Tel Aviv at the request of Ziva’s father following the death of Michael Rivkin. Ziva is angry, she and Tony finally have a heated confrontation about Michael that turns into… something else.

Rating: explicit for sexual content

TW// language, violence, smut, choking, mentions of death/murder

Word Count: 4215

      Tony was finally free. At least, free from the intense gaze of Eli David and the interrogation room. The sunlight outside of the Mossad complex was warm on his face and he took a few minutes to collect himself. Behind him, a door slammed shut and he turned to find a very angry Ziva David stalking towards him.

    “What the hell was that?” she demanded, stopping a foot away from him and crossing her arms. He could see she was itching for a fight, and he wasn’t inclined to stop her. He was in the right in the situation; Michael Rivkin had attacked him, not the other way around, and his actions were justified. He felt horrible for hurting Ziva, but he also felt that he had protected her from something worse. Eli David had all but admitted that Rivkin had been using Ziva, and he was livid. This man was her father, but he had one hell of a way of showing his love for his daughter.

    “What was what, Ziva? That absolute joke of an interrogation?” His blood was boiling at her accusatory tone, and although he was sympathetic to her feelings he was also not going to back down. “You heard what he said, he practically admitted that Rivkin was using you!”

    “My father would not do that to me.” Her voice was cold, her jaw firmly set, but he saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

    “I’m sorry about Michael, okay? I’ve said it a million times, I don’t know what more you want from me.” He threw his right arm into the air, the left one still secured in its sling. “Hit me then.”

    “What?” She cocked her head, anger still rolling off of her.

    “It’ll make you feel better. Hit me. As much as you want. Just maybe not my left arm.” He steeled himself, shutting his eyes and waiting for her attack. A moment passed in stillness and he opened one eye just in time to see her leg swing out and make contact with his right side. He doubled over, the wind knocked out of him as she stepped forward and pushed him backwards with both hands. He hit the ground hard, unable to make a sound as he fought to catch his breath. She was on him in a second, keeping him pinned to the ground. He waited for her to hit him again. Instead, she pulled a knife from her boot and held it to his throat.

    “Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” she growled, digging her knees into his ribs. He searched her eyes for a sign of… something, he wasn’t sure what. But all he could see was hurt, anger, and pain. She needed someone to blame, someone to hurt, and she had chosen him. He didn’t necessarily fault her for it, but it killed him more than the knife she wanted to slit his throat with. Before he could answer, Gibbs and Vance pulled her off of him. She didn’t fight back against them. Instead, she sent a cutting glare down at him and shrugged the two men off of her. “I need to speak with my father.” She turned on her heel and disappeared inside, knife still clutched in her hand.

    Gibbs knelt beside him. “Are you okay, DiNozzo?”

    “I think so.” He groaned as Gibbs helped him to sit up. He felt like he had been hit by a car, but he wasn’t going to admit that to his boss. “She’s a feisty one.”

    “Leon, give me a hand,” Gibbs said over his shoulder, and together they pulled him to his feet.

    “Go get some rest, DiNozzo. We’ll call you if we need you,” Vance ordered, but not unkindly. He gave Tony’s right shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to have a word with Eli.” He gave Gibbs a look that Tony couldn’t quite decipher before going back inside. The two Mossad agents standing by the doors didn’t make eye contact with either Tony or Gibbs as they walked slowly up the stairs together, with Tony using Gibbs as a crutch.

    “I’ll get you some ice,” Gibbs offered as they got to Tony’s room, helping him into the small, cramped space before leaving again in search of ice.

    “Thanks, boss,” he said as Gibbs’ footsteps receded down the hall. He sank down onto the bed, kicking off his shoes in slow motion as the soreness settled through his body. She had done a number on him and she hadn’t even hit him that hard. He stretched out on top of the covers, tucking his good arm under his head as he stared at the ceiling. She had so much fight in her, but he wished more than anything that she would direct it at someone else.

    A knock on the door startled him out of his reverie. Gibbs stepped into the room with a bag of ice in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Tony accepted both with gratitude, wrapping the sheet around the ice before applying it to his side. He inhaled sharply at the combined sensation of weight and cold, but he knew it would help. Besides, he wasn’t about to argue with Gibbs. “Call if you need something, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said once he was satisfied that Tony was settled again, then he disappeared. He dug his phone out of his pocket and set it on the small bedside table beside him before he closed his eyes.

       He was suddenly standing in Ziva’s apartment, unharmed, looking around in a daze. Michael Rivkin stood in the center of the living room, watching him with a bemused expression.

    “Looking for something, DiNozzo?” Rivkin asked, his dark eyes tracking Tony as he stepped farther into the apartment. He didn’t answer. Why was he there? The apartment was empty. No furniture, no picture frames, no shoes beside the door. “Answers, perhaps?”

    “I don’t want anything from you, Rivkin,” he growled, a sudden burst of anger flaring to life in his chest.

    Rivkin laughed. “Oh but you do, Tony. You want her.” He waved a hand and a photo of Ziva appeared in Tony’s grasp. She was smiling up at him from beneath an NCIS baseball cap, her hair pulled back. It was the first picture Tony had taken of her at a crime scene in the name of “probie hazing”. His heart fluttered but he kept his expression neutral as he looked back at Rivkin.

    “It doesn’t matter, Rivkin. You already lost her. She isn’t yours. She never was. You were a liar, you used her, you didn’t love her.” He didn’t know where his words came from, but they all rang true. Rivkin wasn’t wrong, exactly, but Tony found Rivkin’s word choice distasteful. “Besides, you don’t own her. You never did. She’s more herself than any of us will ever be, and she will never be anyone’s to give or take like your mom’s Tupperware.” His anger was only building as he stepped closer to Rivkin, reaching for his weapon. But he wasn’t armed. He looked down in shock, and when he looked up again Rivkin was gone. Ziva stood in his place, knife in one hand. She didn’t seem as angry as she had earlier, but she wasn’t calm either. She seemed to radiate heat and energy as he got nearer. He reached out a hand to her, unable to speak, but she swatted it away casually.

    “Why are you here, Tony?” Her voice was almost bored as she glared at him. “Here to take something else that is not yours?” She glanced around. “Where is Michael?”

    “He was here, and then when I looked again, he was you.” He frowned. “Um. He was there and then you took his place.” The more he tried to explain what had happened the stupider he sounded. His confusion and desperation seemed to amuse her, though. She laughed sharply.

    “Tony, you are having such a strange dream. Do you think that it means something? Or maybe you feel guilty about what happened to Michael?” Ziva was still Ziva but her voice was wrong. It sounded a little like his father, or maybe Gibbs. Either way, it was creeping him out a little. There was a knock at the apartment door. “You should probably get that,” not-quite-Ziva told him. “It might be important.”

    Tony jerked awake, the bag of ice slipping to the floor. It was mostly water at this point anyway. He looked around, slightly dazed. He was in the small room at Mossad, and he was alone. His phone wasn’t ringing, but he ached all over. Flashes of his fight with Ziva jumped into his head as he sat up and he sighed, reaching for the bottle of water. There was a knock at his door, the same sound that he had heard in his dream. He shook himself a little, the weird feeling from his sleep still lingering in his limbs.

    “One second, I’m coming,” he called out, standing cautiously. The pain in his side had dulled some because of the ice but the tightness in his chest had only increased. He staggered to the door, turning the light on before he opened it. Ziva stood in the hallway. Her eyes were red, and when he looked her up and down, he noticed her bruised and bloodied knuckles. “Did you fight your way up here, Ziva?” He couldn’t decide if he was happy to see her or not.

    “May I come in?” Any trace of the anger she held earlier was gone. She seemed deflated and unsettled, but not angry. Satisfied that she wasn’t here to kill him after all, he let her in.

    “You look like hell,” he said as he shut the door. He moved slowly back to the bed and sat down, looking up at her expectantly.

    “I spoke with my father.” She either didn’t hear his question or was purposefully ignoring him. “It seems that your instincts about Michael were not just fueled by blind jealously.” She sighed. “I am sorry for attacking you earlier. I blamed you for everything. I never expected that my father would do something like that, not after everything else that has happened.” She started pacing, but because of the size of the room she could only manage a few feet in each direction before turning again. “I do not know what I am supposed to do now. My father wants me to stay in Israel.” She continued to pace but she fell silent, rubbing the tops of her hands as she walked.

    “Do you want to stay in Israel?”  he finally asked. He hoped she would say no, that she would come home with them and never leave him again. But he also meant what he had told Rivkin in his dream, about Ziva being herself and not belonging to anyone. He would like to call her his, but not in the way that Rivkin had, not in a way that would make her feel trapped. Not the way her father loved her.

    “I do not know.” She stopped in front of him, her eyes soft for the first time since Rivkin’s death. “What do you think I should do?”

    He took a deep breath. “Whatever helps you heal, Ziva.” He looked at her hands again. “Boxing match with daddy dearest?”

    She smiled faintly, just for a moment, but then her face clouded over again. “Not exactly. It did not feel right to use you as my punching bag, so I found a proper one.” She looked down at the floor. “I am sorry for hurting you. It made me feel better for a moment, but I have felt worse all afternoon about it.” She reached a hand out to him and he took it, squeezed gently. “How are your ribs?”

    “They’ve felt better.” While not untrue, he didn’t want her to know how much she hurt him, how frequently she made his heart ache. She knelt on the floor in front of him, resting one hand on his knee and reaching the other for the hem of his shirt.

    “Can I see?” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, and his heart skipped as he nodded. She lifted his shirt up and he followed her gaze. There was an ugly purple bruise covering a wide swath of his right side, and she dropped his shirt quickly when she saw it. “I am so sorry, Tony.” She stood up, taking a step back from him. “I should go.”

    “After all that, you’re just going to run away?” he snapped. The anger he had felt in his dream sprouted up again, taking him a little by surprise. She seemed taken aback but not entirely shocked at his response.

    “I do not want to make things worse. That seems to be all I am capable of doing lately.” She took another step back as he stood up, both of their movements seemingly in slow motion.

    “Didn’t think you of all people were afraid of a little confrontation, Officer David.” He was challenging her, daring her to face whatever she was so afraid of. Normally she was the one doing the intimidating, but this time was different. He held the upper hand; he was the one in control. “But if you want to leave then go, I’m not going to stop you.” He couldn’t have stopped her if he wanted to, at least not physically. But she didn’t run.

    “What do you want, Tony?” She sounded tired all of a sudden, but her eyes were brighter than they had been when she first showed up at his door. He looked her up and down again, following her curves with his eyes.

    “I want to ask you a question.” He took a careful step toward her, not wanting to scare her off but tired of her forcing distance between them. “Did you love him?”

    She didn’t react to the question for a moment, just stood there in silence staring at him. Finally, she moved forward toward him, looked him in the eyes with an expression he couldn’t quite read. “I guess I will never know.”

    He had no response for that. If she had said yes, he would have felt more guilty for what had happened but also more deeply hurt. If she had said no, he would have asked her why she cared so much and had treated him like that after he killed Rivkin. He hadn’t expected this unknown third option, one that held more weight and more uncertainty for both of them. He thought back to the conversation he and Rivkin had had in his dream. Maybe this third option was better after all. His anger fizzled into wanting, a deep longing that he was tired of ignoring. He leaned forward, grasping her waist with his good hand, and kissed her.

    This surprised her, and it took her a moment to react. Instead of pushing him away she pulled him closer, careful not to hurt him this time. Her arms slowly wrapped over his shoulders, her hands resting on the back of his head. Her touch was soft but warm, and he wanted to melt into her embrace. There was so much uncertainty outside of this room, but all of that fell to the wayside as he deepened the kiss. This was how their earlier encounter should’ve ended, not with her pressing a knife to her throat.

    “Tony,” she murmured against his lips, a sweet sigh that only encouraged him. He started to walk backwards, pulling her with him until he bumped into the edge of the bed and sank down. She followed him down, leaning away from him long enough for him to get settled in a seated position against the wall before she was on him again. He hummed his approval as she climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of him as he tried to unclip his sling with one hand. She laughed, pulling back to help him. “I will try to be gentle, I promise,” she assured him as he dropped the sling to his side, forgotten as he finally wrapped both of his arms around her. Despite the awkwardness of his cast, this was the most comfortable he had ever been. Her closeness had always felt like protection, and now it felt like a sanctuary. She felt like home, even in this fragile state of unknowing.

    “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, David,” he joked as she leaned back again, looking at him with concern.

    “I just do not want to hurt you anymore, Tony.” She seemed so sincere and all he could do was stare into her pretty eyes. After a moment she finally smiled. “I do not think I have ever seen you speechless.”

    “There’s a first time for everything,” he conceded as he held her face in his hands. “Now come here.” He pulled her down to him again, but the kiss was different this time, more electric and intense, a deeper want bordering on need palpable between them. Neither of them wanted to let this go, but they both seemed hesitant to push further. Finally, Ziva took another step toward the line, the one that they couldn’t uncross; her battered hands grabbed his shirt, pulling it up once again.

    “Is this okay?” she asked, waiting on an answer before she continued. He nodded, shifting away from the wall a little to make it easier for her. His sleeve caught on the cast for a second and she laughed quietly as she tugged it off. He couldn’t help but smile; this was a relief after days and days of the cold shoulder and endless angry stares. She ran her fingertips over his exposed skin, ghosting over the insidious bruise on his side before continuing just above the waistband of his jeans. His breath caught as she brought her lips to his neck, kissing up toward his jaw and nipping at his earlobe. He wanted to take all of her clothes off slowly and drink in all her curves and shapes, but he was not in a position to try and change their position. Instead, he pushed her gently away from him to lift her shirt over her head. She helped him, tossing it behind her as he traced his hands over her torso, gliding over her breasts and back down to rest on her waist. She unclasped her bra with one hand, the other cupping his chin with a delicate but slightly possessive touch that made him bite his lip.

    “You really are something else,” he murmured as he raked his eyes over her, trying to memorize her. Beautiful was an inadequate description; even in the low light of this room, she was ethereal. He kissed her shoulder, up her neck and down again, over her chest, savoring her as much as he could. Time stood still as he felt her breath quicken when his mouth closed around one of her nipples, his hands pulling her down against him. He didn’t want to hurt her either, but he liked the red fingerprints his grip left behind; he wanted to make sure she remembered this as vividly as he knew that he would.

She was graceful as she stood up, tugging her boots off before shimmying out of her cargo pants. He watched hungrily as she pulled her simple grey panties off of her gorgeous legs before moving back onto the bed, her intentions clear and her eyes seeking his in a lustful gaze. If she were anybody else, he would have made some joke about how easy it was to get her naked but not with her. She would have killed him for real, for one thing, but she was so much more than that to him. He wasn’t going to ask her if this meant something to her; he wanted to believe that it mattered more than just a distraction or an apology or some kind of rebound, and it seemed like it did, but he didn’t want to make any assumptions.

“Tony? Are you okay?” Her voice broke his reverie, edged with a deep concern that made him smile.

“I’ve never been better,” he assured her. “But I think I’m going to need help with my pants.” They both laughed as she helped him to the edge of the bed before tugging his pants off with sure hands. Her confident fingers ran up the inside of his legs, enjoying the feeling of him before she peeled his boxers off as well. He reached out to her as soon as her hands were free, pulling her back to him. His movement took her by surprise, and she toppled forward, knocking him backwards. Her face was inches from his, her eyes searching his face to make sure he was okay. “I’m fine, I promise,” he said with a laugh, wrapping his arms around her waist. It had hurt a little but the reward of her warm skin touching his more than made up for it.

“I will stop if you ask me to,” she whispered, running her hand over his jaw and down his chest. “Just tell me.” Slowly, she moved her legs on either side of his, her eyes once again seeking his for confirmation. He wondered if she was always this careful or if she was making an exception for him.

“You won’t break me, Ziva. I’m not made of glass,” he said earnestly. “Obviously be careful not to break my ribs again or anything, but I don’t need special treatment. I’m just like anyone else.”

“You are not just anyone, Tony.” Her face softened as she leaned down to kiss him. Her kiss was tender, intense but gentle, and he felt himself melting into her all over again. She didn’t say anything else, just deepened the kiss and pressed herself closer to him.

Any apprehension he had felt before faded completely, replaced with an intense desire and hunger for her. His hands, dancing over her body, grew rougher and more determined. With confidence, he reached between them so he could guide himself into her. She gasped as she settled onto him, the softness in her eyes replaced by sheer lust. He let her set the pace, his hands guiding her hips as he watched her body move. As she sped up, her hands desperately seeking purchase on the sheets beside his head, he ran one hand across her neck. As he did so, he saw something in her face change; the barest hint of a smirk, a deeper wanting in her eyes. He kept his grip on her hip with his casted arm, his other hand tightening around her throat.

“Tony…” She said his name in a strangled moan, her eyes rolling back as he squeezed harder. Her rhythm faltered for a moment and he let her go, running his thumb over her jaw.

“God, I could listen to you say my name like that all day,” he murmured appreciatively. The way she tightened around him wiped the smirk off his face, however, and he knew that he was close. With a smile, she ghosted a hand over his cheek and rested it on his neck, watching his reaction intently. He bit his lip. He knew she could kill him a hundred different ways with her bare hands, but something about that stirred a dark desire within him. He nodded, and she slowed to an agonizing pace as she pressed her hand to this throat. She wasn’t applying enough pressure to kill him or even hurt him, but it was enough to make his head spin as he bucked his hips up into her. “Ziva, please,” he choked out, begging her to fuck him harder.

“If you are sure, Tony,” she said, and picked up her pace again. She finally let go of his throat, reaching instead to rub her clit as she leaned back. Her eyes were unfocused but determined, and he held onto her as tight as he could when he released with a quiet exhalation of her name. She was right behind him, tightening around him as she reached her own climax with a soft moan. Slowly, she shifted off of him, curling beside him and resting her head on his chest. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, just listened to the sounds of each other.

After a few minutes Ziva got up and got dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull her boots on as Tony sat up, resting a hand on her back. “You don’t have to go,” he said as she stood up, taking his hand in hers for a moment.

“Yes, I do, Tony.” She pressed her lips to the back of his hand before she placed it on his chest. He wanted to ask her what this meant, for them or for her. He wanted her to stay, or at least promise she would come back. Instead, he said nothing. When she opened the door she paused, looking back at him over her shoulder. “Maybe I do know after all,” she said, and disappeared.

[saturrn-writes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: NCIS Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo Characters: Ziva David, Anthony DiNozzo, Jethro Gibbs, Leon Vance, Eli David Summary:

Tony, Ziva, Vance, and Gibbs are in Tel Aviv at the request of Ziva’s father following the death of Michael Rivkin. Ziva is angry, she and Tony finally have a heated confrontation about Michael that turns into… something else.

[saturrn-writes]

A Beautiful Stranger

A/N: This takes place just before Ziva’s arrival at NCIS in season 3. There’s a little plot if you squint, but it’s mostly smut.

This is also posted on AO3; please do not claim my work as your own.

Summary: Tony is out at a club in DC and meets a mysterious (and attractive) stranger; after an exciting night together, Tony is shocked to discover that she is the Mossad agent now attached to their team, Officer Ziva David.

Rating: explicit for sex, language, drinking

TW// language, sexual content, alcohol, mentions of violence

Word count: 4021

      Tony sipped his drink, attention glued on the heavily intoxicated and scantily clad bachelorette party that was gyrating together on the dance floor a few feet from the bar. One of the bridesmaids, a tiny blonde who looked like she could still be in college, caught his eye and he winked at her. She giggled, mimicking a lasso toss in his direction. He got up, leaving his glass on the bar and approached her with a grin.

    “Hey cutie,” he said as she grabbed his arm to pull him onto the dance floor.

    “Hi handsome,” she slurred, swaying on her towering heels. “You wanna dance?” Without waiting for an answer, she spun around, grinding her ass against his crotch. He grabbed her waist, less out of a desire to participate and more to keep her from falling over. He moved with her, enjoying the feeling of her against him.

    “Amber!” One of the other bridesmaids shrieked at the one he was dancing with, reaching her hand out to the small woman. “We have to go! The stripper is supposed to meet us at the hotel in twenty minutes!” As she pulled Amber away from him, he gave a little finger wave.

    “Have fun!” he called halfheartedly, once again mildly bored. He was hoping to find someone to go home with, but so far blackout coeds had been all he was able to find. He made his way to the bar again, ordering another beer and perching on a stool, once again scanning the crowd.

    “You, uh, come here often?” A voice from beside him drew his attention immediately and he swiveled to face its source. A small, tan woman was seated beside him, one leg crossed over the other and a drink in her hand. He couldn’t quite place her accent, but it was certainly attractive, and as he looked her up and down, he knew he wanted to go home with her. Her dress was short, tight, and black, hugging her curves and riding up slightly as she recrossed her legs. Her heels were smaller than Amber’s, but they easily added three inches to her modest height. Her dark hair was wavy and loose, and Tony resisted the urge to run his hands through it.

    “Occasionally,” he replied, trying to come up with a clever line. “But you haven’t; I would’ve remembered.” It wasn’t a particularly good line, but it was all he could come up with. Watching her lips kiss the rim of her glass as she drank was doing a number on him.

    “No, I only just arrived in town.” She didn’t elaborate, and this frustrated him.

    “I’m Tony,” he introduced, leaning closer to offer his hand. She shook it firmly, the strength of her grip surprising him.

    “Ziva.” She held his hand a little longer than she needed to, her thumb running along his knuckle before pulling back. He felt a little shock at her touch, wanted to feel it again but he didn’t want to seem pushy. She finished her drink, setting the empty glass on the bar. “Do you want to dance, Tony?”

    “Um, sure.” He finished his drink. “I don’t really dance, but hell, I’d do it for you.” He kicked himself as he slid off of his stool. That was such a stupid thing to say, but she seemed to find it funny. She grabbed his arm and led him to the crowded dance floor. Unlike Amber, she was confident in her steps and he watched as her hips sashayed in front of him. Her legs were long and muscular, and he wondered what they would feel like wrapped around him. They slipped into the crowd of people, moving closer together as the song changed, the jostling around them forcing them chest to chest. As they fell into rhythm together, Tony leaned down so she could hear over the music. “Where are you from?”

    “Israel,” she replied, turning so her back was against him, moving her hips against him. The friction from her ass sent a rush of blood from his head and he knew he there was no way he was leaving alone tonight. Her hand reached up to grab his head, tilting her neck up so she could reach his ear. “How long have you been a cop?”

    “A long time. How did you know?” She intrigued him more than anything, her exotic beauty and observant eyes were definitely going to get him into trouble.

    “Call it a lucky guess,” she replied, nipping playfully at his earlobe before letting go of him. He bit his lip at her action, his hands tightening on her waist. The bottom of her already short dress rode up a little higher, exposing a little bit of a tattoo on the inside of her right thigh.

    “Nice tattoo,” he commented, the subtext being a desire to see her naked. She picked up on this immediately, purposefully pulling her dress up for a second so he could see the whole thing. It was a small knife, the tip of the blade pointing to her knee. He let go of her waist with one hand, tracing over the tattoo with two fingers. She shuddered slightly at his touch, grinding harder against him in response.

    “Do you have any?” she asked, her voice a breathy whisper in his ear.

    “Why don’t you find out?” he suggested, hoping she would say yes. As a rule he never brought anyone home to his apartment, and he sincerely hoped she lived close by. She turned to face him, her lips ghosting over his.

    “Do you want to get out of here?”

    “I have a feeling you know the answer to that question, Detective Ziva.” He leaned in to kiss her, still holding her hips to keep her close. She responded quickly, kissing back with the same intensity he felt.

    “My hotel is across the street,” she said as she broke the kiss. As she led him toward the street, she looked over her shoulder at him with a suggestive smirk. “I hope you brought your handcuffs.”

    The air outside was cool, but not uncomfortably so. As they waited on the corner for the light to change Ziva snuggled closer to him, goosebumps dotting her arms as a breeze danced over them. He wrapped an arm around her, tracing his fingers down her arm as the light changed. They crossed the street and ducked out of the night into the lobby of her hotel. She slipped her key card out of her small purse as the elevator doors slid shut behind them, hitting the button for the fourth floor before turning her attention back on Tony. “Were you serious about the handcuffs?” he asked.

    She laughed. “Why, did I scare you?”

    “Hardly,” he said derisively as they arrived on her floor. “But no, I don’t currently have my cuffs on me.”

    “Tragic.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall, laughing as he almost walked into her when she stopped at room 417. “Mine got shipped to my apartment so I do not have them.”

    As soon as the door locked behind them Tony was on her again, pushing her against the door as she wrapped her arms around him and sought his lips. She tasted like whiskey and lemon as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. To his surprise, she pressed her tongue against his, fighting for dominance before pulling back to drag his bottom lip between her teeth. She shifted her hold on him slightly and spun them around, grinning as his back hit the door and her hands started to work the buttons on his shirt. She grew impatient after the third button and he helped her pull it over his head. She ran a hand over his torso appreciatively before kissing her way up his neck, biting just below his ear.

    “Careful,” he said, trying to hold back a moan. “I have work tomorrow and I can’t have any hickeys.” She rolled her eyes.

    “I know, I do too. I am starting a new job and I need to make a good first impression.” She shrugged. “That does not mean no biting though,” she said with a wink, nipping at his earlobe again. He couldn’t hold back his moan this time, steadily growing more desperate as she bit harder on his neck. He pushed away from the door, hitting the lights as he kissed her hungrily. They stumbled toward the bed, stopping only for him to kick his shoes off. She turned them again, pushing Tony down onto the bed and climbing on top of him. Her dress was bunched around her waist as she settled down, moving against him as their kiss intensified. His hands were everywhere, trying to memorize her body with his touch as she pushed him down onto his back and stood up.

He leaned on his elbows as he watched her slowly unzip her dress and drop it to the floor. It fell in a black puddle at her feet and she stepped out of it, still wearing her heels, as she slowly crawled over Tony. The only thing she was still wearing was a lacy black thong as she got to work undoing his belt. She sat up farther to unzip his pants and he took a moment to admire her. She was truly beautiful, a soft hourglass of muscle and smooth, tan skin. Her loose hair was wild and there was a mischievous glint in her dark eyes as she got up again to pull his pants completely off before climbing back on top of him. As she captured his mouth in a filthy kiss, he couldn’t even compare her to one of the leading ladies in any movie he had ever seen; he was too distracted by the way she smelled, the way she tasted, the way she felt on top of him. Normally, he was the dominant one in these situations, but she was different. She was powerful, strong, and completely comfortable in herself and what she wanted, and that made her all the more desirable to him. He finally hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and dragged them down, stopping to flip her on her back so he could take them the rest of the way off as she kicked off her heels.

Her laugh turned into a moan as he started to kiss his way up the inside of her leg, over her tattoo, towards her center, ghosting over her clit with his tongue and watching in awe as she arched off the bed, her strong legs urging him down again. He obliged her happily, tracing her opening with his tongue as she buried her hands in his hair. She cried out in Hebrew as he finally rubbed his tongue over her clit again, and he wrapped his arms around her legs as he got comfortable, continuing to lick her forcefully, encouraged by her moans. She tasted heavenly, and despite his desire to be inside of her he was enjoying himself. She was unashamed to be vocal about how she felt, guided him gently but confidently to where she wanted him to touch her, and after several minutes she was starting to shake.

“Good girl,” he praised, humming appreciatively against her pussy as he continued to devour her. This sent her tumbling over the edge, almost choking him with her thighs as she came, her hands gripping his hair ferociously as she bucked her hips against his face. He eased up, continuing to slowly touch her as she came down from her high and she leaned up on her forearms to smile at him.

“Not bad, Tony,” she panted, running a hand through her hair as she caught her breath. “Come here.” She pulled him to her and kissed him harshly, swiping her tongue across his mouth, tasting herself on his lips. He thought he might die from how much that turned him on, even more than he already was.

“We can stop if you want,” he said as she grappled him, flipping him onto the bed so she was once again on top of him.

“Do you want to stop?” She looked at him with the barest hint of concern. “I do not want you to be uncomfortable, and I know it is also getting very late.”

He glanced at the clock. It was well after midnight. “I think it’s technically early, actually.” He looked back at her. “I don’t want to stop. I’m tempted to call out of work tomorrow so we can do more of this.”

She laughed. “Tony, I cannot call out on my first day.” She kissed him again. “But maybe I could see you again?”

“I’d like that.” He kissed her neck, licking down to her collarbone before biting down, listening to her breath hitch. She caught his hands and pinned them over his head, kissing down his neck. She let go of his hands as she slid down his body farther, finally grabbing his boxers in her slender hands and pulling them towards his ankles. He helped her get them off as she turned her attention to his painfully hard cock. She met his eyes as she wrapped her hand around him, and he hissed at the sudden contact. He tried to keep still as she stroked him leisurely before taking him in her mouth. Reflexively, he tangled his hands in her hair as he moaned at the feeling of her tongue on him. He reveled in the feeling of her mouth on him, but it wasn’t enough. “Ride me, Ziva.” It came out more as a command than a request and he felt her stiffen between his legs. He was worried that he had pushed too far, but the look she gave him told him it was the opposite.

“You are the boss now, are you?” she asked, biting her lip as she straddled him, using one hand to line him up with her entrance as he grabbed onto her waist. Slowly she lowered herself onto him, her eyes rolling back a little as he stretched her. She was impossibly tight, but she was still slick with arousal and her earlier orgasm, so he had no trouble sliding all the way into her. He reached up to cup her breasts, tracing his thumbs over her nipples as she started to move, setting a steady pace.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned quietly, leaning forward to suck one of her nipples and then the other, all the dirty sounds she made adding to the incredible amount of pleasure he felt. Feeling emboldened by her vocal enjoyment he grabbed her hair again, pulling her head back so he could bite across her neck as he bucked his hips to match her pace. He heard her breath catch at his forcefulness and he took that opportunity to bite her lower lip before kissing her again. Her hands were buried in his hair, her grip tight as she continued. He felt himself getting close, and she seemed to pick up on this as well because she smirked at him before pushing him back into the pillows so he could watch her body move. She moved her hand between her legs to rub her clit as she picked up her pace, her eyes squeezed shut as her legs started to shake again. “Fuck, Ziva!” he cried finally as he reached his climax. She was right behind him, clenching tight around him as she collapsed forward, breathing heavily. He rubbed her back as she rested against him, loosening her grip on his hair as she came down from her high.

After a few minutes she rolled off of him, stretched out on her back beside him, one hand on her stomach and the other tucked under her head. “I am extremely jetlagged but that was very worthy of my time,” she said finally. “Thank you.” He sighed, reaching a hand out to rub circles on her side.

“I should be thanking you,” he said nonchalantly. “That was incredible.” Truthfully, it was the best sex he had ever had, but he had a sneaking suspicion that saying so out loud would go to her head. He smiled at the thought, at the idea of maybe seeing her again. “I should probably go. I have to be up for work in a few hours and I need my beauty sleep.” She watched as he started collecting his clothes, finally stretching and getting up to turn on the shower as he rebuttoned his shirt.

“I would ask if you wanted to stay but I think I would sleep better alone before I start work,” she said as she poked her head out of the bathroom. “Another time, perhaps.”

“Um, yeah.” He crossed to the desk and scribbled his phone number onto the notepad. “I left my number on the desk. Call me sometime, okay?”

“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Tony.” She gave him one last kiss, the kind that made him want to get undressed and take her back to bed but he knew he needed to go home so he could sleep.

“I’ll see you around, Ziva,” he said, opening the door. “Good luck with the new job.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. Get home safely,” she replied with another half-smirk, and shut the door behind him.

By the time he got home it was a little after four and he knew that the upcoming workday was going to kick his ass. Still, as he got into bed in his apartment, he thought about the graceful lines of her body and the way she squeezed her eyes shut when she came, and the feel of her skin in his hands. As he fell asleep, her shadow danced through his head like the women in a James Bond opening credit scene.

                     ***The Next Day***

      Tony, McGee, and Gibbs stood in the squad room, watching the monitor as McGee played the security footage from the marina where they had found the dead petty officer.

“Can you zoom in, McGee?” Gibbs asked, pointing at a dark sedan that pulled into the parking lot minutes before the murder.

“On it, boss.” McGee clicked some keys, zooming in on the car. “No plates, but I might be able to isolate his face.” He tapped some more keys as Tony stared intently at the screen, trying to identify something useful.

“It looks like a Honda, but I’m not totally sure,” he mused out loud, rubbing his temples. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before thanks to that delicious Israeli woman and it was seriously affecting his concentration.

“Boss, this is as clean an image as we’re gonna get,” McGee said, throwing up a slightly blurry photo of a middle aged white man with a buzz cut and some serious facial hair. “I’ll start running facial recognition.”

“I know that man,” came a voice from behind them, a familiar accent that made Tony’s cock ache in recognition. He turned to see Ziva standing at the entrance to the bullpen, her curves covered by camouflage cargo pants and a loose black V neck shirt. “His name is Dominic Svoboda. He is a Czechian national. He has been affiliated with arms smuggling and mercenary activities since 1998.” She set down her backpack on Agent Todd’s empty desk. “Sorry, I just got out of my meeting with the Director,” she said to Gibbs, holding her hand out to him. “Ziva David, Mossad.”

Gibbs ignored her outstretched hand, glancing upward toward the second floor. Director Shepard was watching him carefully. He eyed her suspiciously and headed for the stairs.

“Don’t mind him,” McGee said. “I guess he wasn’t expecting you. None of us were.” He stood up from behind his desk. “I’m Tim McGee, and that’s-“

“Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo,” Tony interrupted him. She turned her sharp gaze on him, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smirk that only he could see.

“Tony,” she said casually. “We met downstairs, remember?”

“Ah, yes,” Tony sighed, relieved that she had covered for them both. “I didn’t realize you meant you were being assigned to our team.”

“Well, I am here now.” She turned to McGee. “What can I do?”

“What else do you know about Dominic Svoboda?” McGee asked, pulling his photo from Interpol and sending it to the television screen.

“He has been on Mossad’s radar for several years now after an attack on an Israeli school tied his guns to several terrorist cells. He has been in the United States for approximately six months. I will reach out to one of my contacts for more information about his associates here.” She reached for the desk phone but stopped when Tony coughed uncomfortably.

“Um, that’s Kate’s desk,” Tony said quickly. He looked up at the stairs when he heard a door slam. Gibbs gave Ziva one of his long stares as he rejoined them in the bullpen.

“Tony, McGee, this is Ziva David. She’s with Mossad, on temporary assignment here. Someone wanna catch me up?” He grabbed his coffee cup off of his desk, stared at McGee.

“Well, Officer David was just telling us about Dominic Svoboda here,” he started, but Gibbs cut him off.

“McGee, trace anything of his you can find. Tony, give Officer David the tour.”

“Right. This way, Officer David,” Tony said, as casually as possible, as they headed toward the elevator. “We’ll start in the basement. I’ll tell Abby about our Czechian arms dealer and see what she can dig up on his guns.” Ziva hurried behind him. The elevator began to move down, and Tony reached out to hit the stop button. The lights cut out and the car came to a bouncing halt. He turned to her, crossing his arms. “You didn’t tell me you were Mossad,” he hissed at her. She leaned against the wall of the elevator, mirroring his body language.

“You never asked,” she replied simply. “Besides, I am more than capable of being an adult about this. We cannot keep seeing each other, but we can work together in a civil manner.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Unless you are unable to contain yourself?”

“Excuse me, what?” he asked, taken aback.

“You heard me, Very Special Agent DiNozzo,” she challenged. “Are you incapable of remaining composed in the office?”

He wanted to argue with her, but he kept having flashbacks to the night before, her beautiful, naked body arched off her bed in sheer bliss, and he felt himself getting a little hot under the collar. “I’ll be fine but thank you for your concern. It’s endearing.”

She took a step forward, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Are you sure about that? You look a little uncomfortable, Tony.”

He looked away from her face to calm himself down but found himself following the line of her shirt to her breasts, and further to the camo pants that were just a little snugger on her hips than they should be. The things he wanted to do to her in this elevator… He shook himself back to the present. “I don’t know, Officer David, you seem like you’re the one who’s distracted.”

She licked her lip absently as she reached for the elevator button and he couldn’t resist any longer. He grabbed her waist, slamming her against the wall and pressing his lips to hers. She tasted like coffee and mint, a combination even more intoxicating than the alcohol on her breath the night before. As he dug his fingers into her hips she arched up to him, a low growl in her throat as she dug her fingers into his shirt. After a minute, she pushed him away from her. “We cannot do this right now.” As she hit the elevator button again, she gave him a suggestive glance. “You know where I am staying until my apartment is ready. Seven o’clock, do not be late.” She winked at him. “Bring your handcuffs this time.”  

[saturrn-writes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: NCIS Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo Characters: Ziva David, Anthony DiNozzo, Jethro Gibbs, Jenny Shepard, Timothy McGee Summary:

Tony is out at a club in DC and meets a mysterious (and attractive) stranger; after an exciting night together, Tony is shocked to discover that she is the Mossad agent now attached to their team, Officer Ziva David.

[saturrn-writes]

Fighting For You (TonyxZiva)

A/N: This takes place in the middle of S11E2 “Past, Present, and Future”; Tony has just found Ziva in Israel, they share a tender moment in the olive grove and then things get *spicy*

 I have also posted this fic on AO3. Please do not claim my work as your own. 

Rating: M for smut, fluff, language, slow-ish burn

TW// language, sexual content, arguing, blood (not sexual), mentions of pregnancy

 Word Count: 7244

      Ziva rested her forehead against Tony’s. “I’m fighting for you, Ziva,” he whispered, his voice breaking. She sighed.

      “I know.” She didn’t know what else to say. The tenderness of the moment hung between them like branches around them in the olive grove. She and Tony had been coworkers for years, but there had always been something more between them. The night of the car accident, she had been trying to tell him she loved him. She never had a chance that night, and there never seemed to be a good time. If she said something now, she was afraid of ruining the moment completely, afraid of losing Tony forever. Deep down, she was more afraid of what might happen if she let herself be too vulnerable with him, what would happen if he loved her back. 

      “Ziva,” Tony repeated, his voice barely audible. He felt frozen in time, like he was standing on the edge of a cliff and one false move would send him plummeting to the bottom of the ravine below. He had fallen hard for the Israeli beauty, but he was never quite sure how she felt about him. After the NCIS attack and their trip to Berlin the two had grown closer, but the amount of unspoken tension between them was confusing. He loved her, wanted to tell her, but he was also incredibly physically attracted to her and wasn’t sure if it was truly more than that. Spending time with her in close quarters made him jumpy, desperate to touch her. Her fighting, dominant nature turned him on, but in this moment he wanted to take things slow and gentle. He had told her she wasn’t alone, and he needed her to understand that he meant it. 

      “Tony.” That one word was heavy with emotion, longing, tinged with a sharp sensuality that made his heart flutter and his pulse start racing. He had been shot at, kidnapped, and tortured during his tenure as an agent but this was the most afraid he had ever been. That maybe she felt the same way, wanted him the same way. Ziva reached a hand up to his cheek, thumbing the short beard he had grown in since Cairo. Her eyes caught his in an intense stare and he tried not to blink, scared the moment would be over or that it was all his imagination. 

      Ziva watched his eyes, watched him swallow in anticipation. She had never been afraid of anything, but this was different. This could change everything, and she didn’t know if it would be for better or for worse. She took a breath to steady herself, then swiftly closed the distance between them. 

 His beard was scratchy on her face, but his lips were soft, firm against her own. He grabbed her face in his hands, not wanting to let her go. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him toward her, kissing him with an unbridled hunger that lit his blood on fire. He shifted his hands to wrap them in her wild hair and she moaned softly into the kiss. The sound spurred him on, biting at her lower lip. Not one to back down from any kind of fight, Ziva bit back, running her tongue along Tony’s lip with a smile as he opened his mouth in surprise. His hands began to wander under the hem of her shirt, desperate for closer contact. Ziva finally pulled back, leaving her hands at the back of his neck. 

 “That was…” she trailed off. 

 “Yeah. Um.” Tony let go off her shirt. “I’m sorry.”

 “No, I am sorry. I should not have done that.” Reluctantly, she let him go. “I know we no longer work together, but we should not be doing this. Not here, not now.” She sighed. “Everything is upside down and sideways.”

 “It’s upside down and backwards, David,” Tony corrected quietly, smiling faintly at the Israeli. “But I know what you mean.” He checked his watch. “Are you hungry? Because I’m starving.” 

 Ziva chuckled. “You have not changed at all, have you?” 

 “Guess not.” 

      They walked back to the house in silence, hands barely touching. The truth was that they had both changed, but it was easier to pretend that they were the same as they had been when they first met. “There is not much food in the house, but we will make do,” Ziva informed him as she shut the front door behind them. She followed him to the kitchen, glancing out of the windows to check their surroundings. “It is all clear. I do not anticipate unwanted company, but if you can find me so can someone else.” She secured her gun back in its holster and shut the curtains at the kitchen window. Light still peaked through, but the olive grove was now a green haze through the white material. Tony was standing in front of the pantry with his arms crossed. 

      “You weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t planning on having company. Any chance we can order a pizza or something?” He turned to face her. She was watching him intently, taking in the strong shape of him. He looked exhausted but happy, and she felt herself relax for the first time in weeks. 

      “No pizza, but there is tomato and cucumber salad in the fridge. There might be some couscous in the pantry still. I need to get more supplies.” 

      “Sit down, I’ll cook.” Tony went back to rifling through the odds and ends in the pantry and cabinets. While Ziva watched from her perch at the table, Tony made the couscous and opened the container of tomato and cucumber salad. “It’s not much, but it’s a meal,” he said finally, placing a bowl in front of Ziva and setting one at the place across from her. 

      “Thank you, Tony.” She poked at the couscous with a fork. “I know that I told you coming here was a mistake, but I am glad you did.” 

      “I meant what I said at the airport before. You are not alone. I’ve always been here for you. I know we’ve had our moments and I know that it’s hard for you to trust anyone, but I’ll always be here for you no matter what. I promise.”

      “I know,” she replied, not quite meeting his eyes. “And I believe you. But there are still so many pieces I must put back together. I buried my father months ago, but I feel as though I am still burying him. I do not know if there are still people after me, and I am tired of running.” 

      Tony reached his hand across the table and took hers, tracing his thumb over her knuckles. “You don’t have to run anymore. You don’t have to keep hiding and looking over your shoulder. You can breathe easy, Ziva, at least for now.” 

      She let out a shaky breath, finally meeting Tony’s eyes. “What about Gibbs?”

      “I feel bad for lying to him, but I understand why you didn’t want me to tell him I found you yet. You’ll have to talk to him eventually, though.” 

      “Perhaps.” 

      They ate their meal in silence, listening to the sounds of nature filtering through the windows. It was peaceful here, and part of Tony wanted to hide out here with Ziva forever. Just the two of them, making up for every missed moment they could have shared over the years. 

      “I forgot about the wine,” Ziva said finally, pushing up from the table and gathering the dishes. “Would you like some?”

    “Uh, sure.” Tony got up too, running water in the sink and reaching for a sponge while she poured two glasses of red wine. “You got any movies out here in the Israel boonies?” Tony asked as he took one of the glasses from Ziva.

      “No, sorry. We do not even have a T.V.” She sipped her wine, leaning one hip against the counter and watching Tony over the rim of her glass. Tony grinned at her in that way he had, the same smile he gave whenever he was giving McGee a smartass answer. “What is so funny, Tony?”

    “I was going to suggest a movie, but I hear strip poker is still a popular pastime.” Ziva rolled her eyes.

      “I was not aware that this was a frat house.” She was trying to read his expression, gauge whether or not he was doing his usual casual flirting or if this was a hint at wanting to continue what they had started in the olive grove earlier. It was hard to tell, but she didn’t want to ruin anything by asking about it outright.

      Tony finished his wine, set the empty glass on the counter, and crossed his arms. The joking smirk was still half on his lips. “I wonder if Adam likes strip poker,” he mused, and Ziva glared at him.

      “What?” she demanded, crossing her arms and clutching her glass in one hand. Her eyes were shooting daggers at him, but the intensity of her gaze sent a shiver down his spine.

      “Your little, uh. Friend with benefits. Adam.” Tony took a step forward towards her. She held her ground and kept her gaze locked on his, her eyes narrowing.

      “As I have already explained to you, it was one time. A moment of weakness.” Her voice was firm, but he heard a tinge of something at the edge. Regret or guilt, maybe, but that could have been his imagination. Her eyes scanned his face, and then the edges of her lips curled up into a mysterious smile. “Are you jealous, Tony?”

      He almost said yes, but he kept it to himself. Instead, he shrugged. “Just confused. I was serious about what I told you at the airport before. I guess I wasn’t sure why you would turn to him when NCIS has been your family all these years.”

      She sighed, her shoulders sagging a little in defeat. “I do not know, Tony. He was here, and you were not. We did not really talk about it before or after, it just happened and that was the end of it. We are all adults, so I do not understand why you are so insistent about this.”

      “I don’t know, Ziva, I guess I thought that after the attack on NCIS and everything that something had changed between us.” His voice raised as he continued, starting to pace the small kitchen as he talked. “There’s so much back and forth, and I feel like we’re constantly walking this fine line between friends and something more. I know you have a hard time trusting people and I know that you’ve been hurt before, but I really though that maybe something would be different. CI-Ray was a murderer, but you almost married him for fuck’s sake. I was always there for you, but whenever you need me you pull away. I don’t get you, Ziva! I’ve been trying since the day I met you but I don’t understand you at all. Every time I think I do, you go sleep with Adam or you go rogue, and I can’t keep doing this.”

    “How dare you bring Ray into this!” She was almost shouting, her tone matching his. “That was not about you! That is your problem, Tony. Everything has to be about you. Are you really that selfish?” She slammed her glass down on the counter and it shattered, shards flying and the last remnants of merlot trickling over the lip of the counter and onto the floor. Neither she nor Tony paid it any attention. “I devoted my life to Mossad and then to NCIS, to my father and then to Gibbs. Work has always been my focus and my priority, and everything else has been secondary. It is easier that way. You killed Michael, and I know you had your reasons, but I am sure that if you thought about it from my point of view for a second you can understand why that was traumatic. How was I supposed to know that Ray was a bad man? It is not always black and white, Tony, but you have no concept of nuance.” She took a breath, absently pulling a sliver of glass from the side of her hand before lowering her voice to her normal volume. “We work well together, and I trust you with my life, but that does not mean that something more makes sense or is comfortable for me.”

    “Newsflash, Ziva: life isn’t always comfortable! You of all people should know that. I’m sorry about Michael, and about Ray, and that clearly you have some serious trust issues that you need to deal with. I understand all that. But it feels like you aren’t even trying, and I’m tired of feeling like a yo-yo. You pull me in but push me away again as soon as I get close.” He took another step forward, his pulse racing in his ears. It felt good to finally say all of the things he had been holding back. He didn’t want to hurt Ziva, but he was also tired of having to pretend that she didn’t hurt him right back. Not to mention that her fiery aggression was turning him on again.

    Instead of stepping back she took a step forward, planting her feet and challenging him with her eyes. They were maybe a foot apart, but she wasn’t going to be the one to cave in and close the distance. “You do not have a great race record with women either, Tony. La Grenouille’s daughter, a million one night stands that you cannot even let stay in your apartment. You are a grown man that sleeps in a twin bed, Tony. That is a sign of commitment issues if I have ever seen one.”

    “It’s track record, Ziva.”

    “What?”

    “You said race record. The phrase is track record.”

    “You are insufferable sometimes. Did you know that?”

    “I’ve been told. But you love it.” His tone was challenging but he waited with bated breath for her reply.

    “I do,” she said quietly.

    “What?”

    “I do love you, Tony.” She reached out a hand to touch his chest, pressing her palm flat against his heart.

    “I love you, Ziva David.” He mirrored her gesture, resting his hand against her racing heart. Her skin was warm through the thin fabric of her shirt. They stood like that for a few minutes, neither of them daring to shatter the fragility of the moment. “And I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to be so aggressive. It’s not all your fault.”

    Ziva wrapped her fingers into a fist, pulling Tony to her by his shirt. “Rule number six, Tony. Never say you are sorry.” Her face was inches from his, her eyes daring him to close the distance.

    Tony felt his anger fade into desire as he looked down at Ziva, but his eyes widened in shock when he saw her hand. “You’re bleeding,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Is there a first aid kit around here?”

    “I am fine, Tony. I have endured much worse.” She pulled her hand away, wiping it gently on her pants. He caught her waist with his now empty hand, bringing her closer to him.

After another agonizing minute of heavy eye contact, Tony kissed her again. She tasted like wine and hope, a dizzying combination that Tony savored. The kiss was tender at first, but the gentleness evaporated into desire, need, and hunger. Ziva grappled with Tony’s shirt, desperate to take it off of him as he walked them backwards towards the counter. The small of her back hit the edge of the counter and Tony lifted her onto it with one swift motion, letting her pull him closer to her with her powerful legs. She eased her grip as Tony pulled back to help her with his shirt, but they found each other again quickly, the kiss all teeth and tongue and hands all over. Tony moved to nip at her neck and she moaned something in Hebrew, throwing her head back and dragging her nails over his shoulders.

Tony began impatiently tugging the hem of her shirt upward, dragging his thumbs along her toned torso as she pulled away from him again, raising her arms over her head. Her shirt dropped to the floor as she kicked off her shoes, once again seeking his mouth with hers. She shifted her weight slightly and pushed him back, sliding off the countertop and forcing him back against the wall, her hands planted on either side of him as she dragged her tongue leisurely up his torso. He bit back a moan as she bit into the flesh of his neck, sucking a deep purple hickey into his skin. “Did you think you would have the upper hand this whole time, Tony?” she questioned, her voice thick with lust as she pressed him closer to the wall. Before he had a chance to answer, she moved her hands from beside his head to his belt, her nimble fingers making quick work of the buckle and sliding the leather from its loops. She held it in one hand and leaned close to his ear, her free hand slamming back against the wall. “Since you do not have your handcuffs, I would be more than happy to make do with this,” she hissed, nipping his ear. He couldn’t hold back a moan at her words.

“I don’t even have a smartass comeback to that. That is easily one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard in my life. However, I want full use of my hands tonight.” As he finished his sentence, he dropped his hands to grip her waist and spun them around so she was pinned to the wall, knocking a picture frame sideways as he did. Before Ziva had a chance to react, he grabbed her wrists and held them over her head, leaning down to kiss her clavicle. Her moans sent a shiver down his spine as he kissed down her chest, tugging at the cups of her bra with his teeth impatiently as he reached her breasts.

She broke the hold he had on her wrists with ease and reached behind her to unclasp her bra as he slid the straps down her arms and tossed the garment back toward the kitchen. Agonizingly slowly he traced his fingers over her small, pert nipples as her back arched off of the wall and her hands found purchase in his hair. With a devilish grin he dragged his tongue over one nipple before closing his mouth over it, looking up to see her eyes shut and her mouth fall open in a delirious exhalation of his name. He used one hand to roll her free nipple, his other hand gripping her hip with a possessiveness that he didn’t know he felt towards her. He grazed his teeth over her nipple and she inhaled sharply in response, biting her lip to avoid giving him the satisfaction of another moan. Instead, she pulled his hair and dragged him back up to her mouth again, capturing his lips in a filthy open-mouthed kiss that left them both wanting more.

Tony slid his hands over her body and under her butt, scooping her up and walking slowly down the hall, stopping to press Ziva against the wall a few times and kiss her deeper as she wrapped her legs around him. He stopped again, fumbling with a doorknob behind her and almost falling forward as the door swung open. He flicked on the light, breaking their kiss again and frowning as he was greeted to the sight of a study instead of a bedroom. She extricated herself from him and gave him a playful swat on the chest. “The bedroom is the next one down, Tony, and the door is open.”

“In my defense, I was a little distracted,” he said defensively, glancing around the small room.

“You are not thinking with the right head, yes?” she questioned playfully, hooking her thumb in one of his belt loops and pulling him towards the desk.

“You could say that,” he conceded. Ziva swept a couple of books off the desk and pushed Tony onto it before straddling his lap and resting her knees on either side of his hips. She ran a hand through her hair as she leaned down to leave a trail of kisses over his chest and up his neck, stopping to nip his earlobes again before sliding her hand between them to settle over the bulge in his jeans.

“Someone is excited,” she murmured into his ear, palming him teasingly through the denim fabric. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone, but she was trying to maintain her composure as much as possible and not grant him the satisfaction of her caving first.

“Can you blame me, David? I don’t know if you’re aware or not but you’re probably the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. I could be misreading the situation, but it seems like you want to fuck me too so yeah, I would say that I’m excited.” He was speaking quickly, trying to keep a grasp on his sanity as her hand increased pressure and her mouth continued to mark him, claim him as hers. He bit his lip as she popped the button on his jeans and tugged the zipper down. He leaned up, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to pull his jeans down and kick them to the floor. “As fun as this is, my back is killing me and you’re wearing too many clothes. Bedroom,” he growled, once again lifting her and walking toward the door, flipping the light off as they reached the hallway.

“Next door on the left,” she muttered against his mouth, trailing one hand along the wall until she hit the doorframe. He turned, pushing her against the doorframe as he pulled at the waistband of her pants. She gripped the doorframe with her hands and arched up away from the wall as he dragged her pants down her muscular legs, letting them fall before pulling her against him again and stumbling into the room. He hit the light switch and then settled his hands under her butt again, running his thumbs under the black lace of her panties before placing her on top of the unmade bed. He stood back to admire her graceful body as she rested on her elbows, waiting for him to join her. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and red from their vicious kisses. Her gold Star of David necklace shone from the tan skin of her chest and he smirked as he watched the swift rise and fall of her peachlike breasts as she caught her breath. Her stomach was taut, her hips slim but beckoning where they met her legs under the black lace. “I need you, Tony. Please,” she said, her eyes wide as she met his gaze.

“God, you don’t need to tell me twice.” He bent down to remove his boxers and she watched his muscular form appreciatively. He wasn’t excessively muscled, but he was strong, solidly built, a form that she knew from memory after so much time with him. As he straightened up her eyes widened even further. His cock wasn’t abnormally long but it was thick and veiny, and she bit her lip thinking about how he was going to feel inside of her. With a smirk, she hooked her thumbs through the waistband of her panties and dragged them slowly down her legs, letting them drop delicately to the floor beside the bed as Tony watched with obvious enthusiasm. He climbed onto the bed, leaning over her once again with a smile and lust blown eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered as his hands roamed her body, stopping at her hips just inches from where she wanted him the most. He shimmied down to settle himself between her legs, kissing his way up her calf and up to her inner thigh. He stopped when he reached the inside of her right thigh, chuckling to himself. “So this is the tattoo.” It was a small knife, the blade pointing down toward her knee. He kissed it gently.

“Yes, Tony, this is the tattoo,” she said with a sigh, mildly agitated that he had stopped what he was doing. Her skin was on fire from his touch and his mouth and she was tired of waiting. With a low, almost feral growl she flipped them over, pinning him beneath her. Biting her lip, she reached between them to guide him to where she wanted him the most. With a cry of relief and pleasure she sank onto him, letting herself adjust to his size before she opened her eyes to look at him. His mouth was slack, his fingers gripping her hips for dear life as she squeezed around him. She was so tight, warm, and velvety and he knew in that moment two things: he was never going to love anyone else the way he loved Ziva, and he wasn’t going to last very long like this.

“Fuuuuck,” he finally said. “Why the fuck did we wait so long?”

“Shut up Tony,” she replied breathlessly, holding onto his hands as she started to move. She started slowly, rolling her hips against him as he bottomed out inside her, relishing the feeling of him stretching her out. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. The only sounds in the room were their moans and heavy breathing, skin on skin as Ziva maintained a steady pace, her nails dragging down Tony’s back. She was desperate for friction on her clit but that could wait; he had started to buck his hips up to match her rhythm and she was a little distracted by how good he felt. His cock twitched inside her and his thrusts got sloppier, but he tightened his grip on her anyway. He didn’t want her to be disappointed, but more than that he didn’t want it to be over already. As Ziva had pointed out, he had had more than his fair share of one night stands, but this was a very different level of intimacy and experience for him. He wanted to pleasure her more than he craved his own climax, wanted to wake up with her in the morning and fall asleep with her at night not just tomorrow but every day after that. He wanted forever with her, no matter what it took.

“Ziva, I-“. A shaking moan cut him off as he came inside her, gripping her tightly and kissing her with a desperate fierceness. She slowed, riding him through his high, murmuring words of assurance in his ear. Her touch was tender as she cupped his chin in her hand. “I’m sorry,” he panted, kissing her shoulder.

“Rule six, Tony.” She smiled at him, thumbing his lower lip. “I liked it very much.”

“You didn’t cum yet, though,” he insisted, shifting beneath her to grip the back of her thighs and lay her on her back. She whined at the loss of contact as he slid out of her and he wanted nothing more than to fuck her again. However, he knew himself enough to know that he needed a break before he could go another round. He smiled in satisfaction as he watched his cum dripping out of her pretty pussy onto the comforter.

Briefly, he thought of the photo from one of her undercover assignments, the one that showed her with a prosthetic pregnancy belly. She was smiling in the picture, glowing even, despite the fact that the pregnancy was fake, and he was hit with the sudden desire for a wedding and little DiNozzos, watching his pregnant wife painting a nursery in their home. He shoved those thoughts aside for the moment; there would be plenty of time for that later.

He returned his attention to Ziva, who was watching him intensely through her eyelashes, one arm thrown behind her and the other resting on her stomach. He traced one finger up her leg, from calf to thigh, briefly rubbing over her tattoo before drifting languidly between her legs, ghosting over her clit before trailing up over her hip and then resting on top of her hand. As much as he liked her dominating personality, he liked that she was at his mercy now. He smirked as he settled his hand on the inside of her thigh, inches from where he knew she needed him to be. Her lusty expression darkened, and she glared at him.

“You are not as funny as you think you are, Tony,” she hissed.

“Tell me what you want.” It was not a request but a demand, his voice making her stomach flip and the hand not under his gripped the sheets in anticipation.

“Tony, please.”

“Please what?” He tightened his grip on her leg, watching as she bit her lip. “Use your words, baby.”

“Tony, I need you to touch me. Please.” Any traces of the anger and frustration she had expressed earlier had dissipated into desire. She liked to be in control, but she wanted him to claim her, make her his however he wanted. She didn’t want to think about what would happen in the morning, about what this would mean for them both. She wanted to enjoy the moment, the feeling of bliss that came from Tony’s touches. “I thought you said I did not have to ask you twice.”

He shrugged. “I changed my mind.” He kept one hand on her thigh, slowly dragging his other hand over her hip and gliding his thumb over her clit. Her reaction was immediate, her back arching off the bed and her grip on the sheets tightening. As he applied more pressure, slowly starting to rub circles on her clit, she was struggling to bite back moans and cries of ecstasy. “You can be as loud as you want, no one but me is going to hear you. And trust me when I say I love to hear you.” He watched her face as he slipped one finger inside of her, then another as he continued to rub her clit.

“Tony!” She was very quickly approaching her climax, her mind going hazy and blank as he worked her over with his hand. His fingers curled inside of her and he relished the softness of her as he stroked her walls, the chorus of delicious moans and swear words coming from the Israeli beauty egging him on. She started to clench around his fingers and he knew she was close. He kept up his pace, watching her intently, and finally she fell over the edge with a strangled cry. Her legs shook, her toes curling and her fingers wrapping themselves in the comforter as her legs clamped down on his arm. Slowly, he slid his fingers out of her, the mixture of her cum and his coating them delightfully. As Ziva fought to catch her breath her leaned down to kiss her. To his surprise, she caught his hand in hers and brought his fingers to her mouth. He watched, wide-eyed, as she licked his fingers clean, sucking them fiercely. His cock twitched at her actions and he wrapped his free arm under her back, pulling her up to a seated position as she dropped his hand and captured his mouth with her own. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, still racing from her orgasm. Watching her writhe under him had hypnotized him and he knew he would be replaying that in his head forever.

Despite the intensity of her climax she was not sated, and her dominant side returned with a ferocity. She pushed him back to straddle him once again, but he wasn’t ready to give up the fight either. He gripped her wrists and used his bodyweight to flip them over, trapping her beneath him as he planted open-mouthed kisses on her neck and jaw. She wrapped her legs around him, grinding against him as she found his mouth with her own, kissing him desperately and murmuring in Hebrew against his lips. He relaxed a little against her and she used this to flip them over once again, almost sliding off the side of the bed. She laughed, leaning down to kiss him softly. “Oops,” she said, nipping at his lower lip as he tightened his grip on her. She knew she would have bruises in the morning from his fingers on her hips and the thought sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

“I always knew you were a wildcat but goddamn,” he said, halfway between a whisper and a growl. “Are we going to fight again or are you going to let me fuck you?”

“You think you are so tough, Tony, why don’t you do something instead of talking about it?” She pulled away from him, once again challenging him with her eyes, daring him to do something. Taking her by surprise, he pushed her off of him, scrambling to his knees and flipping her again so she was face down, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling up on all fours. She could easily have kicked back at him, pushed him off the bed, hurt or killed him and escaped into the countryside. Instead, she spread her legs a little farther apart and arched her back, her perfect, round ass in the air and waiting for Tony to make a move. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her lip caught between her teeth, and he ran his hands appreciatively over the curve of her ass before once again burying his cock inside of her. The sound she made as she rocked back against him to match his pace was unbelievable, a mix of a moan and a growl and a cry of his name.

“You’re perfect,” he muttered, grabbing her hair and wrapping it around his hand, pulling back to arch her back even farther. Ziva was completely at his mercy, once again tightly gripping the sheets as Tony pounded into her, all inhibitions gone as animal instincts took over. She snaked a hand beneath her to rub her clit as he dug his free hand into her ass, her second orgasm building quickly under her practiced ministrations. He felt her start to clench on his cock and he knew that he wasn’t far behind her. He increased his pace, panting, and her cries became an unintelligible mix of Hebrew and English as she came undone beneath him, her legs shaking and threatening to collapse. He wrapped an arm beneath her stomach to support her as he came again, easing his grip on her hair and rubbing her back, murmuring praises to her.

With a reluctant sigh, he pulled out of her and collapsed to her left, landing on his side and reaching out to brush her cheek as she curled up next to him. She was exhausted, mostly from the emotional toll the last few weeks had taken on her, and she struggled to keep her eyes open as the waves of her climax subsided. The heat that burned in the pit of her stomach, between her legs, the craving for him had lessened but still had not subsided, and she struggled to calm her heartbeat. Despite her dissatisfaction, she felt content, fulfilled, at peace for the first time in a very long time.

“You are not falling asleep on me already, are you?” she asked, playfully nudging him in the ribs as his eyes drifted shut. They flew open, surprised, and he met her gaze with a dubious expression.

“I had my suspicions that you were a hellcat in bed, but I don’t know how you have so much energy.” He rolled onto his back, one hand sliding around her and his hand tracing soft circles on her shoulder. Her skin was hot and sticky, and he could feel her elevated pulse. At his words, she averted her eyes, suddenly self-conscious. She turned over so her back was to him, tucking her legs towards her chest. He sensed her closing off again and he regretted his words. “I’m sorry, Ziva, I didn’t mean it like that.”

She sat up and crossed her legs, still facing away from him and now just out of his reach. The silence was uncomfortable and heavy for a minute before she finally spoke. “Maybe this was a mistake.” She didn’t regret it, but she worried that he did, worried that she was too much or not enough and that he would be the one with regrets. This self-consciousness was unfamiliar to her; she had experienced insecurity with her job and her abilities with Mossad and NCIS but had never felt incompetent when it came to carnal pleasures. But Tony was different, special even, and now that the initial heat of the moment had passed, she was unsure about where they stood.

“Do you really believe that?” he questioned, her doubt striking his heart. Slowly, he sat up and slid to the edge of the bed. “If you want me to leave I will. I don’t want to, but I will.” He glanced over his shoulder at her and she shifted to face him.

“No.”

“’No’ what?”

“I do not want you to go.” She reached her hand out to him. “And I do not regret tonight.”

“Then why do you think that this was a mistake?” He took her hand, rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

She shrugged. “I do not know, Tony. This is unfamiliar territory for me.” She chewed her lip, trying to put her thoughts into words. “I do not want to be too much or not enough for you. In any sense, not just now. I know that I love you, and I also know that it has been a long time since I have had such a good time with someone. I do not want to take it for granted or spoil a good thing because I still do not feel entirely satisfied.” She looked at him through her lashes. “Which is not to say you gave a poor performance, because it was quite the opposite. However, I do not want you to feel pressured or inadequate in any way.”

“You are one of the most selfless people I have ever met,” he assured her. “But we’re both adults, I can handle anything you throw at me. We will find a way to make this work, in here and out there.” He nodded towards the darkened landscape outside. “I told you that I would take care of you, and I will. I promise. Tonight and tomorrow and as long as you’ll let me.” He pulled her towards him, wrapping her in a hug. “Just don’t shut me out anymore, please. I can’t handle that again.”

“I make no promises,” she replied finally. “But I want to find a way to make this work.”

He kissed the top of her head. “What do you need right now?”

“Just you.” She leaned up to kiss him again, slow and deep, drawing him farther up the bed with her. Once again, she wrapped herself around him, clinging to him desperately as the tender kisses got heavier and more desperate. She was suddenly afraid, not of being close to him but of possibly losing him after all of this. “I love you,” she whispered as he slid himself inside of her again, relishing the closeness of him, the way they fit together perfectly.

    He wrapped his arms around her even tighter, resting his head against her chest so he could listen to her heartbeat, hear her quiet moans as she kept a slow, steady pace. He could sense the exhaustion she felt and he tried to tell her that she could stop, but she was determined. She shifted her position slightly, seeking friction as the tiredness took over and she chased her own high one more time.

Seconds turned into minutes and then into nothing; time no longer existed, no longer mattered for either of them. The dark countryside beyond the windows melted away, the world beyond the edges of the bed ceased to exist. The only thing that either of them were aware of was each other, the sounds of their breathing and heartbeats echoing in their ears.

Ziva felt her orgasm building slowly, the slow burn in the pit of her stomach pulling her out of her reverie. Instead of rushing toward the edge she maintained her pace, relishing the gradual building. Tony was close but trying not to throw her off her rhythm, so he held onto her and whispered praises to her. Finally, after what felt like a glorious eternity, she said his name, a drawn out moan as her head dropped to his shoulder and she started to tremble from the force of her climax. He couldn’t hold out anymore, finally letting himself cum as he stroked her back.

With a sigh he laid back against the pillows, pulling her down with him and holding her close against his chest as she finally settled down. One leg was still hooked over him, keeping herself grounded and, at least subconsciously, keeping him anchored to her. Neither one of them wanted to break the silence. Unlike earlier, this wasn’t a weighty silence but a pleasant one, a quiet intimacy that cradled them both in warm happiness. He stroked her arm, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his. He had never been more content than in this moment, never been more in love until now. “I love you,” he said finally. “I love you.”

“I love you, Tony.” She turned on her side, pulling the comforter up over both of them and snuggling against him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

She was quiet for a moment. “For everything.” Those two words hung heavy between them, weighed down by all the things that they had never said to each other until now, or at all.

“I mean, you did most of the work,” he joked.

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” Her tone was flat, unamused. He sighed.

“I’m sorry. I really haven’t been able to say anything right today,” he said quietly.

“No, it is alright.” She rolled onto her stomach, tucking folding her arms under her head and watching him. “I do not want you to go another minute without knowing that I am grateful for everything you have done for me.”

“I told you before, Ziva, I will always be fighting for you. I’m not going anywhere, and all you have to do is ask.”

They drifted off, their legs tangled together under the comforter. In the hazy morning light Ziva woke, turning to see Tony fast asleep beside her. She smiled at him, watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. She felt at home here, safe, and she wanted nothing more than to stay here forever with him. She wrapped herself in the comforter and rested her head on his chest. “I will be fighting for you, too, Tony. Always,” she whispered, and fell asleep once more.  

[saturrn-writes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: NCIS Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo Characters: Ziva David, Anthony DiNozzo Summary:

This takes place in the middle of S11E2 “Past, Present, and Future”; Tony has just found Ziva in Israel, they share a tender moment in the olive grove and then things get *spicy*