 | ShatterStorm Productions
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| ShatterStorm Productions
|
Disclaimer: "NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigative Services," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Belisarius Productions, Paramount Network Television Productions, Paramount Television, and CBS Television. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with " NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigative Services," CBS, or any representatives of the actors.
Author's Disclaimer: If NCIS were mine, there'd be far less crime and much more smut!
Author’s Notes: This is for racethewind10 because she demanded post!premiere Ziva/Gibbs fic and threatened to hold her smutty CSI: Miami Calleigh/Natalia goodness hostage if I didn't comply...
Jenny had died alone.
Five gunmen had tracked her deep into the desert, killed her in cold blood, and gotten shot for their troubles. She hadn't listened to her instincts and now the Director was gone.
That fact weighed heavily on Ziva's shoulders, even after all this time.
She was on her way home. Thirty two thousand feet above the ocean. First class, thanks to her father's secretary.
It was over.
She should be thankful, should be able to let it go and finally grieve.
But, she couldn't.
They'd been friends for years; confidants, partners, and a compassionate shoulder to lean on.
She and Jenny had always taken care of one another whenever they could, but this time she'd let her down.
Two days after Leon Vance had called them up to his office, ready to dismiss them without explanation, her apartment had been quickly and silently packed up. Abby had taken the day off and helped her load dozens of boxes into the back of her hearse. Five trips had filled Gibbs' basement, temporary lodging for her belongings until she'd settled down and sent for them. And her car had been safely parked in his garage at his insistence.
She'd cooked dinner for the entire team that night. Overrun Gibbs' kitchen, using pots and pans that had long since seen the light of day. One last hurrah.
Tony's flight had been delayed and hers hadn't been until the next afternoon, so they'd all sat around their bosses kitchen table laughing and joking, clinging to the last precious moments they'd have together until early morning.
McGee and Abby had reluctantly taken Tony to the airport just as dawn began lapping at the horizon. Rounds of hugs were shared- more than a few tearful goodbyes- leaving Ziva and Gibbs lingering solemnly on the front porch long after the taillights had disappeared down the road.
They hadn't said a word.
She'd jumped slightly when his hand had covered hers, resting on a weathered, paint chipped railing, thumb rubbing across her skin soothingly back and forth. Their eyes met and she could feel herself breaking. Her throat tightened, stomach churning. His palm squeezing hers, fingers tugging until she gave in and fell into his arms.
Reality had finally caught up with her; suffocating her, trapping her.
Her face slid easily into the crook of his neck, hiding from the rest of the world as the warmth of his arms surrounding her and she sobbed quietly. Mourning the loss of her friends, both alive and deceased. Letting go of the life that she'd come to know and love.
She cried until her lungs had burned and dizziness set in. He'd supported her sagging body, a strong arm wrapping around her waist, fingers massaging the back of her head and neck, waiting patiently as her tears slowly stopped and the tremors that had raced through her body began to subside.
"It wasn't your fault, Ziva.”
Her eyes had squeezed tightly shut, a final tear fell upon her skin, fists tightening their grip on the front of his shirt.
"Yes, it was.” she rasped, throat swollen and raw with emotion, "I knew something was wrong, and-”
"It was not your fault.”
Her breath had wavered, body swaying as his grip loosened and he leaned back. Gibbs' hand slid out of her tangled locks, fingers determinedly lifting her chin before tenderly cupping the side of her face, looking her straight in the eyes. Softer this time.
"It wasn't your fault.”
His callused fingers had gently wiped across tear stained cheeks, her lashes fluttering closed as the grip around her hips tightened once again, steadying her.
"You didn't fail her, Ziva.” He whispered, "She was trying to protect you, keep us away, and you still went after her 'cause you're a damn good agent. Trying to change the past, blaming yourself for something that you can't change...”
Hearing the thickness in his voice she'd looked up at him, finding his grief filled eyes staring intently back at her. The pain that he'd let her see in that brief moment, the way his jaw tightened, lower lip quivering in restraint, showing her that he trusted her enough to let her see him like this, said more to her than any advice that he'd offered her that evening.
They were both broken.
"You can't live life like that. It's all that you'll think about. You become it. And it'll tear you apart.” He paused, finally managing to curb his emotions, smoothing a few curls behind her ear, "But you cannot blame yourself. You understand?”
She nodded, watching a wave of relief pass over him, before being swept tightly back into his arms. A long sigh slid past her ear as he rested his cheek against hers, leaning their hips against one of the wooden posts on the porch, taking some of the strain off of their tired bodies.
"You can't blame yourself either, Gibbs. Jenny wouldn't have wanted it...” She'd whispered a few minutes later, pushing just a little further, "and neither would Shannon or Kelly.”
His muscles had tensed at the mention of his late family's names, seemingly stunned for a moment before trying to pull away from her. Closing himself off. Struggling with his full strength for only a few seconds before he'd realized that she wasn't going to let him go.
She'd gone too far, she knew that.
But, no one else was stupid enough to push him over the edge. To force him to heal. It had been her last chance, at least that's what she'd thought, and she couldn't have let it slip by.
With one last, almost pitiful, attempt to break free from her hold, he'd finally given up. Her fists released their grasp on his shirt, quickly smoothing up his chest. Fingers had run soothingly through his short, silver, hair as he relaxed against her. Forehead resting on her shoulder, uncharacteristically vulnerable.
She could feel his heart beating against her own, slowing to a steady rhythm as more and more time passed. They stood there until little rays of light started cascading through the trees overhead, beams of warmth just barely falling onto the safety of Gibbs' porch. Birds sung their happy morning songs, and squirrels chased each other across the lawn.
The longer they held each other, sought warmth and stability, the more she started actually noticing his touch. His scent had slowly washed around her and she'd felt a little, barely there, nuzzle of his nose against neck. She'd felt the surprising buzz of his fingers rubbing circles into her lower back, the other set running slowly through her tangled hair.
She'd let her thoughts stray- just for a moment. Gallivanting into dangerous and forbidden territory. She'd known it was wrong, but she couldn't resist the temptation.
She'd thought it was the last time they'd ever see one another. How could she have known? Would she have stopped herself if she'd known they'd be reunited four months later?
It made her pulse thrum faster and her stomach clench. Her head had felt light on her shoulders, like she was swimming, her only anchor being the feeling of his breath as it rhythmically puffed across her sensitized skin.
It'd been so confusing. All of those conflicting feelings running through her. Body telling her one thing, head telling her another.
She'd promised herself not to indulge. To take the time to digest what her sudden, though not wholly unwelcome, attraction meant.
But his hands kept moving up and down her spine, sending tingles of pleasure flowing through her. Making her shiver and slyly rub herself against him under the guise of burrowing closer for warmth.
She didn't have any time left to think. The clock had been slowly running out and she'd just wanted to feel.
To forget.
He was safe. This was safe.
Before she could change her mind, she'd pulled back slowly, his stubble scraping deliciously along her chin. She'd trembled, almost moaned, letting her nails scratch lightly down his scalp.
It was only a few kisses. Lips dragging delicately along his jaw. Testing the waters.
The taste of his skin, the sharp intake of breath that he'd taken as she reached the corner of his mouth.
It made her heart flutter and her mind spin.
This wasn't her. She'd never been this careless with her personal life before.
"Ziva.” He warned halfheartedly.
They'd both been completely vulnerable.
Her hands cupped his face, thumbs covering his soft lips, silencing him. Pressing the bounds of their friendship.
Comfort in familiar arms.
How far would he let her go?
Her eyes had dragged slowly up to his- ice-blue, strong, questioning- before pressing forward, bridging the last few inches between them.
The kiss was chaste at first. Tentative. A simple meeting of lips. A thank you.
It would have said, 'Thank you for saving my life- for saving me from myself.', but really, it was the only way she could think of to tell him that it was alright to move on.
That it was alright for both of them to move on. No matter how reluctant they might be.
She should have stopped it there. Should have broken away from him, severed their connection before things got too messy.
But she couldn't.
'Just this once', she'd told herself.
Relaxing into him, she'd allowed herself to give into her desires.
Just this once.
Ziva had sighed against his mouth, melting into him. And that little moment, the sound in the back of her throat, the way she nudged against him the slightest bit, it changed everything.
A catalyst of sorts- the breaking point.
They'd ignored the rules- Gibbs' and society's- the ones telling them it was wrong and that they'd regret it. Maybe it had been the alcohol they'd shared throughout the evening, or the odd understanding that they'd always seemed to have with one another. Whatever it was it hadn't mattered. Not then.
It had been too late for regrets.
He'd tilted his head, pressing into her more fully, nipping her bottom lip before flicking his tongue teasingly over it. Her eyes had flown open in surprise, a gasp escaping her just long enough for him to sweep in and cautiously explore her mouth.
A shiver tore through her. She hadn't been expecting that. Couldn't have predicted it; the thrill that she got, how enticing it would be, and the wave of relief that had come with it.
She'd felt herself moaning softly, lashes slowly slipping shut as her fingers slid back around his neck. At some point she'd risen to the balls of her feet, arching against him as the kiss deepened. Tongues sliding along one another; warm and delicious, just as she'd always suspected but would never admit to occasionally pondering about.
Gibbs' touch had swept down her sides, along her hips, fingertips dancing across the strip of skin between her tank and the waist of her skirt, and finally down over the swell of her ass. He'd pressed her closer, kissing her with a new sense of urgency, allowing her to feel him hard against her. His length digging into her stomach as he'd shuffled them sideways, lifting her up onto the railing, sliding smoothly between her legs before wrapping them around his waist.
Everything had happened so quickly. Spiraling out of control, surpassing everything they'd thought they knew, because it truly was the end of their world as they knew it.
His palms had run up her bare thighs, material sliding indecently high, tugging her flush against him. She'd swooned, forgot to breath. Ankles had locked together behind him, securing him in place, rolling her hips into his until the grip he had around her tightened and his breath hitched.
Her head had fallen back with a groan, breaking the delicate silence of early morning, teeth attacking her neck, suckling and nipping. Somehow, she'd found her way under the back of his t-shirt, nails accidentally biting into his shoulder blades as he'd started grinding against her in return. Short, sure strokes, lining up perfectly against her, hitting all of the right spots.
Ziva's entire body had warmed in an instant. Stomach flipping and tensing.
Large fingers dipped inside her top, cupping her breast, gently kneading, waiting until her nipple had puckered against his touch before circling it with his thumb. She'd whimpered, almost moaned, when his lips soon followed, brushing cloth carelessly aside. The strap on her shoulder had slid down her arm as hot, wet lips surrounded her; sucking, barest scraping of teeth, tongue flicking.
She'd all but quivered in his embrace. Pleasure pooling low in her belly.
Limbs temporarily forgotten began to move. Caressing down his sides, sliding over his stomach and up to his muscled chest. The thin shirt he'd worn had been soft and cool over her knuckles, his bare skin radiating massive amounts of heat under her touch.
He'd felt divine.
Lips eventually left her cleavage, mouth reclaiming her own, tasting vaguely of her perfume and the cheap beer that McGee had brought to dinner last night. She'd bitten his lip gently, tongue sweeping along it and then past his teeth to explore as her fingers had finally managed to stray below his belt. Teasing him, cupping the bulge in the front of his jeans, squeezing lightly before fumbling with the button and zipper.
Gibbs had growled and smirked against her, pants falling around his knees, nails scraping lightly up her inner thighs as she'd reached into his boxers and took him in her grasp. He'd twitched against her fingers. Thumb rubbing over the head before slowly stroking him, enjoying the way he'd thrust toward her with each movement.
His body had tensed seconds later, stopping her with a hand on her wrist. Guiding her to push his boxers down as he somehow managed to get her panties off without lifting her off of her perch.
It had all started to blur together. Need overpowering all of their senses.
He'd shuffled closer to her, erection pressing tightly against her inner thigh as his fingers slid between her legs, rubbing along her folds before dipping inside. Her heart had almost leapt out of her chest, every part of her focusing on his touch. Feeling him test her limits. Seeing the smirk curving his lips out of the corner of her eye as his thumb brushed against her clit in tight, little circles, two digits moving rhythmically, like he was twisting along her inner walls.
Ziva had started whimpering, almost mewling, her hips bucking toward his hand. Heat and pleasure coiling within her. Her eyes had slipped shut, teeth worrying her bottom lip, arms secured tightly around his neck.
She could feel him watching her. His lips hovering over hers, his breath mixing with hers, guiding her legs back around his waist. Her muscles quivered, strained, body on edge.
Hips had angled toward hers, fingers slipping out of her just before she'd hit her peak. Her groan of disappointment had been muffled by his mouth and cut short when his cock quickly replaced them, thrusting into her with one fluid stroke.
They'd both stilled.
Absorbing one another. Every little detail.
She'd fluttered around him, stretching to accommodate his girth. Arousal rising and curling in her, almost to the brink. Hips had rolled against his, desperately trying to get him to move, but he'd refused.
Ziva's eyes had opened, his palm cupping her cheek. Their gazes met; blue eyes darkened with desire and a glimmer something that she couldn't quite place.
Her features had softened, head tilting to the side as she'd studied him. Her nails had dragged up his neck, his eyes hooding with pleasure. She traced over his cheekbones, up along the ridge of his forehead, and down his nose, before finally ending up at his lips. Fingertips smoothing along their lightly bruised and swollen surface. They puckered against her touch, making her grin fondly in response.
She'd leaned forward, their mouths a fraction of an inch apart before she'd met his gaze once more. He'd given a subtle nod of his head, returning her smile, before bridging the gap between them, kissing her tenderly.
Their movements had started slowly.
Tongues dueling and exploring. Hips rocking languidly. Groans slipping from both of them, the friction almost too much to bare.
His weathered palm slid up her side, covering her breast. Pinching and rolling her nipple until she'd gasped, head rearing back, his lips trailing down her neck and across her collarbone.
A light breeze had swirled around her, sending goosebumps trailing across her skin. Little shivers ran through her and she'd clutched him closer, the length of his chest sliding teasingly against hers with each thrust.
His pace started to quicken.
The sun warmed her face; eyes closed, still pointed toward the sky. A few wayward acorns rained down onto the porch roof, bouncing around loudly above them until they'd roll off and hit the ground behind her.
Ziva's world started to sway. Legs had tightened, heels digging into Gibbs' lower back, hands desperate to find bare skin. To feel connected.
His head had been buried in the crook of her neck. Tongue flicking across her pulse point. His muscles had rippled with effort under her palms, nails leaving reddened trails down his spine.
Panting. Desperate. Bucking and grinding toward him.
So close.
She'd started moaning. Ready to snap at any moment. Feeling him hot and hard, sliding in and out with nearly wavering force.
Teeth sinking into her shoulder.
Heart stopping, lungs ready to give out, tightening all over.
Time seemed to slow.
Thrust.
Gasping for breath.
Thrust.
Legs shaking.
Thrust.
Pulsing and expanding inside of her.
Thrust.
Fingers bruising her hips.
Thrust.
Pelvis crushing her clit.
She'd almost blacked out. Edges of her vision had blurred and darkened.
White hot pleasure spiking. Breaking.
Gibbs had groaned, shaking against her as she finally tensed, fluttering and spasming in rhythmic pulses around him. Arousal liquefying, quivering in sated lust.
Relief.
Air rushed back into her. Arms clinging tightly around him, holding him close as he followed her over the edge. Accepting his release as he shuddered and thrust twice more, drawing out the last few morsels of pleasure for them as he slowed to a stop.
Their breathing had been labored. Sagging into one another. Sweat drying on their skin.
The world slowly returning to them.
Ziva had been the first to move. Leaning back just enough to slide his head from the comfort of her shoulder, cheeks cupped in her hands. Clouded eyes meeting, smiles shared.
Lips had touched briefly. Soft and slow.
A goodbye.
Foreheads pressed together. Resting. Basking.
A whimper when he'd eventually slipped out of her.
The sound of families starting to wake up in the neighborhood; a car door slamming down the street, dogs barking in the distance.
Gibbs had kissed her once more before sliding out of her embrace, and she'd found herself wavering on shaky legs, wishing that he'd have held her just a moment longer. Hoping against hope that she could have stayed there- in his house, in his arms.
But some things just weren't meant to be.
When the plane finally touched down in DC, the city was already surrounded by darkness, bright lights shining like a million little beacons across the horizon.
She'd been exhausted. Only managing to sleep for a few hours during the long flight. Her back and head still ached. The explosion at the bar in Morocco had definitely left her hurting. Pain relievers didn't help much, so the rest of the trip she'd spent reminiscing over Jenny, Gibbs and the rest of her family.
The good times and the bad.
Tears had been shed, a handful of tissues spent and used. But for the most part, she'd looked out her little window at the planet beneath her with a smile on her face.
She was excited to be back in the states. Even if she'd spent a good hour and a half in customs before she could collect her luggage and grab a taxi back to NCIS.
For the first time in her life, she'd actually hated being back in Israel. She'd resented being there, and by extension resented her father for requesting her immediate transfer the second she'd been sacked. The only shining moments had been McGee's weekly e-mails and the one call that she'd gotten from Gibbs.
Sure, she had reconnected with her cousin Ezrah while she was there, but it was expected of her by the rest of her family to socialize with him. They'd had dinner a few times, she'd met his fiancé, and he'd ended up inviting her back for his wedding in mid-October. She'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoyed his company while she was there and was looking forward to seeing him again.
But it just wasn't the same.
She'd missed her real family. The one she'd made, not that one attached to her by dirtied blood.
So when she'd arrived in the NCIS lobby, stowing her duffel with Manny the security guard, she'd felt a strange giddiness creep up on her.
She shuffled quickly inside the familiar elevator at the end of the hall, grinning as it slowly made its way up to the third level.
Her stomach felt nauseous and her body began buzzing in anticipation.
Who would she see first?
McGee? Tony? Abby? Gibbs?
The cart slowed to a stop, loud ding sounding her arrival, shiny metal doors sliding open...
She was a bit disappointed.
'Lee?'
Of all the people in the building, she had to be the one who greeted her after months of absence?
Ziva smiled anyways, knowing that she was the reason Michelle was holding a heavy box filled with office supplies and personal effects in front of her. Demoted back to the legal department. Again.
The second she entered the bullpen though, she'd spotted her gang. A rush of relief and pure joy coursed through her.
Abby was the first to tackle her, wrapping her in gangly, overenthusiastic, limbs. Tim grinned happily at her, observing from a few feet away.
And then there was Gibbs.
Their eyes caught briefly.
“We miss you, Ziva.”
“I miss you too, all of you...”
They smiled, a look of recognition passing between them before he tugged her close, pressed tightly against his body.
For that tiny moment, all she could think about was that day on his front porch. How after they'd gathered and straightened their clothes, he'd guided her into his house, upstairs and then into his bed. Curling himself around her, his chest pressed tightly to her back, arm wrapped over her waist, as she'd cried herself silently to sleep.
It wouldn't be the same, now that they were working together again. She knew that.
But whatever happened, she'd always be safe in his arms.
End.
