Refuge

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Screaming.

Loud, mind boggling, heart wrenching, screams.

Ziva woke with Tony’s body tense and fitful against hers. His shirt was soaked with sweat, wild heartbeat matching her own as she struggled to assess the situation. Her eyes flew open finding his brow furrowed, grimacing in pain and fear, as he tried desperately to defend himself against the attacker haunting him in his dreams.

She felt Gibbs squeezing all of them tightly together, his palm strong and warm on the middle of her back, immobilizing the man between him so that his flailing arms wouldn’t hurt either of them. She had almost forgotten that a third person was there, and she‘d never been more thankful. Mossad officer or not, Tony was almost twice her size and the only way that she could have subdued him would have been by force and nothing less. She’s glad it hadn‘t come to that.

Ziva rested her temple against Tony’s and made comforting shushing noises in his ear, wiping strands of damp hair away from his forehead as she attempted to soothe him.

It didn’t take.

He whimpered, still trying to wiggle his way out of their arms, and moisture once again welled and spilled from beneath his closed eyes.

How many more times would she have to watch him cry because of this?

“Tony.” She whispered, trying to gently wake him. “It’s just a dream, no one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe now.”

Still nothing.

A gargled gasp suddenly slipped from his throat, and his body began to quake and tremble as he struggled for breath in giant heaves of air. Tattered hands strained to break free of Gibbs’ hold on them, desperately wanting to claw at his blue and purple throat, the word ‘no’ repeating silently across his lips as the expression on his face changed from fear to sheer terror.

“Tony!”

Ziva felt helpless. She’d been trained to deal with almost any situation; bomb threats, terrorists actions, war. But at no time in boot camp had she been briefed on what to do in this situation. It terrified her.

With her hands braced on his shoulders she shook him as hard as she dared, pleading with him to let everything go and come back to them.

“You’ve got to wake up, Tony!” She was panicking, and she hated it. “It’s all over. You’re safe! She won’t hurt you again.”

Tony’s movement seemed to wane a bit, but what bothered her most was his change from gasping for air to not breathing at all.

She shook him again to no avail, and she could feel the urge to sob rising in her as she saw his skin start to turn red with lack of oxygen and exertion.

“Gibbs,” her voice begged urgently, “do something!”

The man grunted shifting as he freed one of his hands, the other still restraining his senior agent, and she prayed that he could rouse him.

“DiNozzo,” he barked, “wake up! You’re late for work!”

That’s when she heard the slap, and felt Tony’s head lurch forward.

It had done the trick.

She sighed with relief, a grateful smile beginning to form her mouth as the younger man’s body froze between theirs. At first she thought she’d have to remind him to breath, but a few seconds later his body took over and he drew in one long needed lung full of air after the other. Puffy eyes popped open next, searching the room frantically for his captor before realizing that she wasn’t there, and he finally allowed himself to relax into the bed beneath him.

He seemed embarrassed when their gazes met, small sniffling noises coming from him as he realized that they‘d seen him at his most venerable. Sadly, she couldn’t help sympathizing with him; bordering the line of pity and sorrow, only a few of the emotions that she‘d been having an increasing amount of trouble hiding from him over the past year. But, after being through a few rounds of torture herself- let’s just say that one always remembers the terrible experience itself and the haunting of it afterward, that is if they happened to survive. The first time is always the hardest to get over. If she could help him in any way, she would.

Without realizing it, her fingers had worked their way through his hair and her brow had rested against his, thumb rubbing his scalp rhythmically in a comforting motion.

“Are you alright, Tony?” Ziva whispered.

Shivering, a new wave of tears fell upon his face as he shook his head, nose rubbing timidly against hers as his head moved back and forth, their lips a puff of warm breath away. Gibbs released him and Tony immediately wrapped his arms around her waist, crushing her in a full body hug as he wept quietly against her.

Carefully, her palm glided over the crown of his head, down his neck, and past his shoulders where it met another warm hand resting between Tony’s scapulas. It moved the tiniest bit, and before he could retreat completely she laced a few of their fingers together, squeezing them tightly.

Gibbs’ grasp tightened in return for the briefest moment, a gentle circling pressure continuous against her knuckle, and she let her eyes slip shut.

Everything would be alright. Tony would be alright. Eventually. She had to believe it was true.


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Ziva wasn’t quite sure how long they had stayed in that position, curled up against each other, but at least Tony had finally stopped crying.

The sky was now a dull blue, and the morning songs of early birds were being sung just outside the window. Dawn was almost here.

Gibbs began snoring lightly, his fingers slack in hers, and she couldn’t help releasing a little chuckle.

Tony’s eyes opened, looking at her curiously, his voice hoarse from so much abuse. “What?”

She shook her head, mouth brushing dangerously against his as she spoke. “I always thought Gibbs would snore.”

He grinned, the first real smile she’d seen from him since the kidnapping. “That coming from the only woman I know who could wake the dead while she slept and still deny that she needed a breath right strip?”

Ziva glared at him. “If you weren’t hurt so badly already, I would have certainly caused you more pain by now for bringing that up again.”

He sobered and peered at her from under a thick amount of lashes. “I know. I’m sorry.”

That was new. Tony hardly ever apologized to anyone.

“It’s okay.” She craned her neck, kissing him tenderly on the cheek. “I’m just glad that you’re alive.”

He pulled back for a few seconds, staring at her contemplatively in a mournful manner. This was probably as close as she would get to a thank you from him, not that she actually needed or deserved one. She had let him down, not protected him and backed him up when he needed her. And yet, she was still the first one that he’s asked for after getting out of surgery at the hospital. She didn’t fully understand it, but she was so grateful that he hadn’t shut her out. He had needed her, and she had remained by him almost day and night since then.

She was here to stay.

Tony shifted forward and her eyes fluttered shut as his stubbly face rubbed against her chin, trying to bring his lips up to her cheek and failing terribly, landing somewhere around the corner of her mouth.

Sucking in a sharp breath, her body went rigid. He must of realized what he’d done because his moist lips left hers immediately, but didn’t go far, still hovering just a fraction of an inch away.

They were teetering on the edge of a very thin and blurry line. One that she’d promised herself that she’d never allow them to cross. The tension had always been there between the two of them. On cases and in the office. But, as far as Tony knew, he never had a chance with her.

She wouldn’t admit it out loud, or even to herself, but she longed to feel his kisses again. The memory of their undercover mission, not too long after she’d started working at NCIS, wasn‘t as grizzly as she’d described it to be when Abby had accosted her and demanded details not long after they‘d finally become good enough friends to request such things.

In fact, the experience had been quite pleasurable.

She’d made Tony out to be a chauvinistic pig, when in all reality he had been a perfect gentlemen about ninety percent of the time. She‘d also told the lab tech that he‘d been horrible in bed, from what she could tell anyways, but that was so far from the truth it had almost physically hurt to say so. It had been so hard to ignore his charm during that assignment, and more than once she wished that the circumstances had been different.

Ziva’s temperature rose and her body flushed with arousal just thinking about the all of the intimate things they had done together in that hotel room without being intimate. She had wanted it to be real. To let go and feel him against her, over her, in her. A chance to forget everything that had happened those few months after Jenny had asked her for Intel on a terrorist op; moving to the States, becoming an NCIS/Mossad liaison, finding out that her father wasn’t perfect, murdering one of her own kin.

The circumstances were different now, but could she really take advantage of that? Of him?

Tony’s gaze met hers briefly and then drifted down to her mouth, lingering almost tantalizingly, tempting her, before sliding back up. There was a glimmer in his eyes, venerability, something that she hadn’t seen before. At that moment, even though she’d seen him in the buff, he had never looked more nude. All of his walls were down, there was nothing left to hide.

Her final bits of restraint crumbled. How could she resist him?

Before she knew what she was doing, her chin had tilted forward those last few centimeters and their lips met. Soft, yielding, and just as she’d remembered them.

It probably wasn’t the best idea that she‘d ever had. He had just lost his first serious girlfriend to a crazed woman in a warehouse wielding a knife and several other painful implements, and been tortured for days on end. And then there was always good old rule number 12. How she absolutely hated that rule. Coupled with the fact that Gibbs, the creator and enforcer of said rule, was not only in the same room as them but within arms reach.

She couldn’t help herself though. It was a bit like feeling drunk; a little buzz that has you floating happily along until you do something so stupid, but incredibly satisfying, that you hope when you wake up in the morning you can just blame it on the booze and forget it ever happened. The only problem is she wasn‘t intoxicated, or high on pain meds, or so exhausted that she wasn’t thinking straight.

What could she possibly say to him that would get her out of this? Wait, did she really want to get out of this though?

He sighed into their chaste kiss, nudging her gently as he increased the pressure, and the sound of her own pulse thrummed louder in her ears, her stomach flipping in response.

No, she definitely didn’t want to get out of it.

Ziva tentatively slid her mouth along his, re-familiarizing herself with him as she tested the waters, seeing how far Tony wanted to take it. She didn’t want to push him into anything that he wasn‘t ready for, but she needed to feel more of him. It was driving her insane. The sweet, little pecks she‘d been supplying him with just weren’t enough for her, and she really hoped that he wouldn’t mind if she deepen their kiss a bit more.

Her lips began lingering on his for longer moments. One second, three, five, eight. Until she didn‘t break away from him at all and began moving slowly in a deliciously erratic rhythm. He smiled against her, following her lead, and she relaxed a bit more, relieved that he wasn’t objecting to anything she’d done as of yet. Objecting to her.

In all actuality, it was the exact opposite.

She hadn’t noticed before now, mostly because she’d been focused on his mouth and nothing else, but Tony wasn’t exactly a silent partner in their exchange. Deft fingers had found their way under her tank top again and were caressing and wandering their way up her back. His touch and the cold air made her shiver as the hem of her shirt rose, tempting her to sit up and rid herself of the thin material, peeling it over her head and tossing it to the floor- baring her assets to the world, or more accurately, him. The need to feel his touch, his lips, trace familiar paths over her bare skin was overwhelming, almost to the point of insanity. But that would involve severing their kiss, and there was no way that was going to happen any time soon. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

He began nibbling along her bottom lip before bringing it between his own, suckling on the luscious flesh until she moaned and pressed herself closer to him. Her body throbbed in time with the beat of her heart, and her stomach tingled and fluttered, each twinge of pleasure more heightened than the last.

This was going to be so good. She could feel it.

Her tongue gently parted and probed his mouth until he responded in kind. Tasting his warmth and spice; like a mug of hot cider on a cold winter night. It made her long for a mountain of pillows and quilts piled knee high in front of a stone fireplace, its flames crackling and popping as it cast a flickering glow across their overheated skin. What she wouldn’t give to be burrowed in a little cocoon of patchwork with his arms wrapped around her body, pressed firmly into her in all the right places. To be able to smell the burning wood in the air and hear the wind swaying in the trees outside on a moonlit night.

Thankful to have him here and now, Ziva tightened her leg around him. Hips rolled softly against his, providing enough friction for both of them to get a little thrill, and she shivered when a humming noise vibrated through his chest like the purr of a cat. He was hard and hot, wedged intimately against her at the perfect angle. Just enough stimulation to keep her satisfied, but not nearly as much as she actually wanted.

That’s when she felt it. A faint shudder of Gibbs’ fingers in her own, a quick squeeze followed by an equally quick release. Until that moment she’d almost succeeded in ignoring his presence.

Her kisses slowed and pleasure wilted eyes slid open reluctantly in a move of caution. She could have probably passed it off as a twitch, and left it at that, but if she had learned anything in her life it’s that nothing is ever as it seems.

A quiet grumble came from behind Tony and this time she froze, stomach clenching in terror. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence. Her lips no longer moved, a last little shred of sobering self-restraint surfacing from somewhere within her. But she didn’t have the heart to stop her partner from continuing to plunder and dominate every corner of her mouth. He deserved it. Even if he was just using her to forget everything that happened, put it past them in favor of feeling something other than despair. She understood.

Another grumble and a soft moan grated her senses, leaving her laying there completely mortified. If Gibbs was in fact stirring they were more than screwed, and not in a literal sense. So, she waited. It seemed like an eon before everything was quiet again, the smacking of their lips the only sound in the room. Seconds passed slowly, her focus wavering the higher her count got and the safer it became. But after a minute or so of silence and continued kisses her control slipped and she allowed herself to be dragged back down into a whirlwind of sensation and lust.

Tony’s hand began wandering the expanse of her body, making her ache in all of the right places. Places she’d long forgotten about and had no hope of ever finding again.

She could definitely get used to this.

His fingers twined in hair, caressed along her shoulders and arms, teasingly swiped across her chest making her breath hitch and her nipples tighten, followed by broad strokes of rough palms down her ribs and back before coming to rest on the swell of her ass.

A moan slipped from her throat, muffled by his mouth, as his thumb rubbed circles into her hip and his pelvis slowly began grinding against hers continuously. It felt like she was on fire, liquid desire pooling shamelessly between her legs. The urge to rub her entire body against his front, supple curves scraping delectably over the hair on his chest and the hardness of his muscles, was too much to handle. Her back arched, tender breasts pressing into him, stomach heaving as she struggled to fill her lungs with air. It was exhilarating.

Without much thought, Ziva’s fingers slid up his neck and through Tony’s hair, tilting his head to a better angle as she explored his mouth thoroughly and deeply, not missing a single spot. Of course, never one to be idle, his tongue soon battled and teased her own, leaving her breathless and begging for more.

But something wasn’t right.

She knew that she should have noticed it right away, whatever it was, but her mind was too clouded, pleasantly hazed, and only focusing on sensation and need. It was still there though, even through passionate kisses she could feel it creeping its way through her consciousness. Like a snake slowly winding around its prey before squeezing as hard as it could, sucking the life out of it- gasping and wheezing.

And then she knew exactly what it was.

A hand, clearly not Tony’s, under her flannel pants caressing the sensitive skin behind her knee with warm and calloused fingers, sending jolts of pleasure down her spine.

It hadn’t fully processed yet, what she was feeling. She was sure that it was supposed to feel wrong or embarrassing, being caught like this. But, it didn’t. And she was also sure that Gibbs was supposed to be upset, even downright angry, with them for having a serious heavy petting session in his bed. But, he didn‘t seem to be. And he certainly wasn’t still asleep.

She couldn’t even formulate a reason in her confused brain as to why he wasn’t red-faced and yelling at them in true Gibbs fashion. She could imagine it now; “What the hell do you two think you’re doing?!” or “Get your hands off each other! Have you forgotten about Rule number 12?”. Then insert a few head-slaps and more angry bellowing. Yet, nothing of the sort happened.

Tony hadn’t even noticed that anything was different, which both relieved and unnerved her at the same time. Was this really happening?

Ziva relaxed a bit, easing back into the kisses she‘d been sharing with the man in front of her for the last several minutes, as Gibbs continued his thorough inspection of her leg. Fingers kneaded her muscles, releasing tension that she hadn’t even realized was there to begin with. His touch was soothing and gentle, covering every inch of her that he could reach without alerting the man between them.

Without any prompting, and much to her surprise, he bent her leg and arched it above his waist, anchoring it there as Tony thrust against her. She gasped, her head rearing back as she released a throaty moan, and she swore she could hear Gibbs chuckle when her hips bucked unexpectedly at the new angle. If she were able to form any semblance of coherent speech, she would have called him a sadistic bastard. But she’s sure that he’s heard it more than once before.

Tony had taken to trailing openmouthed kisses down her neck, nuzzling and nipping as he went. And somewhere between him sliding one of her spaghetti straps down to give the same attention to her cleavage and Gibbs’ hand becoming more daring in its exploration, she found the courage to open her eyes.

The only thing she saw over her partner’s shoulder was an ice blue gaze staring back at her.

TBC...