The bullpen was quiet. Too quiet, special agent Anthony DiNozzo decided, barely glancing at the glittering night skyline of the metro area as he passed the large window on the way to his desk. The life of an NCIS agent was certainly fast-paced and with its fair share of interesting moments, but the worst part was definitely the paperwork.
He was not alone in that opinion.
Agent Timothy McGee and newly-minted agent Ziva David took their places at their respective desks minutes later. The fact that they had worked through the night was not going to deter them from completing the mandatory forms to formally wrap up their current case.
Deciding to break the silence, DiNozzo cut his glance to McGee. "Where's Gibbs?"
McGee stopped typing. "Getting coffee? He was right behind us."
DiNozzo considered this. "How come we didn't get coffee?"
"I don't drink coffee after midnight," McGee said matter-of-factly. "I switch to tea to make sure I can sleep. It's not good for your neuroses to interrupt your sleep patterns like that."
The Italian shuddered. "Tea," he said, his distaste evident. "There was a reason they dumped all of it in Boston harbor."
"Was that not protesting the government?" Ziva interrupted. Her dark eyes danced as she surveyed her coworkers. "Not a statement on the taste."
"It doesn't matter," DiNozzo snapped. He ran a hand through his hair. "It's almost two-thirty. When was the last time we were here this late anyway?"
"Last week, DiNozzo," the unmistakable voice of special agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs rang out. He breezed past the bullpen on his way up to MTAC. Before DiNozzo could open his mouth, Gibbs said, "I want that paperwork finished and on my desk before oh-six hundred. And DiNozzo? Make sure Abby gets a refresh on her Caf-Pow!"
DiNozzo groaned.
*
Shortly after three, DiNozzo couldn't stand it any longer. His paperwork was done. It was even electronically filed. He was, in short, all done with his work responsibilities. His social responsibilities, however... to begin with, his clothes reeked- he felt like he'd rolled around in the mud. Incidentally, part of his evening had taken place in a riverbank, so that was probably a fair assessment. He decided that if he had to be at work again at oh-seven hundred, he could use the locker room adjacent to the base gym to freshen and wake himself up.
He walked off without a word. McGee, seeing his departure, just shrugged. Ziva, on the other hand, noted the placement of the button he'd pressed when he got on the elevator. The gym, hmm? Knowing his personality the way she did, she assumed that his vanity had gotten the best of him and he was heading to shower before work.
Ziva paperclipped her reports together and placed them on top of Tony's on the pristine top of Gibbs' desk. She looked at McGee. He had a pair of earbugs? earbuds? headphones in, and he was typing like a madman. She smiled.
*
"This is the night, it's a beautiful night, and they call it Belle Notte," sang DiNozzo as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel. The combination of the lukewarm water and the crisp apple scent of his shampoo had refreshed his mind and body completely. Maybe too completely.
He looked around and over his shoulder. He was alone. He grinned, and looked down at himself. His cock, formerly limp, was as awake as the rest of him. A good eight or nine inches and pleasantly thick, it was always a hit with the ladies he'd dated. He grasped himself in his hand, and began to pump his dick in stride, running his thumb over the head with each downstroke. His mind started to wander. He thought briefly of Jeanne Benoit, the smoking hot doctor who had a penchant for incredibly satisfying blowjobs a particularly trying case had placed him undercover with, and then his thoughts wandered to his old partner. Kate. He'd always been attracted to Kate. He suspected it was partly because she was always so condescending of him, and partly her squeaky-clean demeanor and background. Catholic schoolgirl, indeed. He pictured her in her uniform, kneeling between his legs to take his heavy cock in between her lips... No. It was still a little weird to reminisce in that way. He did have some fond memories of that night, though...
He let out a groan of pleasure as he stroked himself that echoed through the empty locker room. On the subject of partners... his evening "under covers" with Ziva was still a memory he jacked off to from time to time. It had both equal parts novelty and steaminess to it that made it one of his favorite scenarios to recall while masturbating. He was essentially paid to fuck his partner, and they both had a hell of a time acting the part. Of course, it was just between the two of them that they had actually done what Gibbs had asked them to act out- Ziva hadn't made any attempts to rekindle their brief tryst, and he hadn't pressed.
On the other side of the locker room, Ziva licked her lips. She hadn't forgotten their time in the hotel room, and intended to collect on past dues now that the opportunity had... risen. She made her way over to the shower stall he was in, and moved into view.
"Ziva!" DiNozzo's voice pitched higher than normal as he struggled to tug the towel that hung loosely around his neck down to his groin to cover his pulsing dick. "What are you doing here? This is the men's locker room!"
Her lips quirked into a grin as she pulled his hand clutching the towel to his crotch away. "I thought I could assist you." He let go. His surprised face morphed into a sly grin.
She surveyed his cock. It was standing straight up and pulsed with his heartbeat. She took it in her small hand and stroked it lightly.
"That's- that's some good work, Probie," DiNozzo muttered, grasping for a locker to keep himself upright.
"Maybe this would work better if you sat down," Ziva suggested.
"There's the towel room," DiNozzo said with a suggestive eyebrow raise. "They're pretty fluffy, for navy towels." He led her into a fairly large alcove that had several racks of folded towels. With a few swipes, a pile formed at their feet. He pulled a chair over and tossed a towel on top of it, sitting down on the cushy impromptu upholstery.
"Now," Ziva purred, "Where were we?" She knelt in between his legs again and grasped his cock. After a few short pumps, however, she decided to up the ante. Licking her plump lips, she took the tip into her mouth.
DiNozzo closed his eyes. This was so much better than what he had expected from his little jaunt downstairs.
Ziva swirled her tongue around the tip, working it into the small indent at the top of the head. She glanced up, and keeping her eyes locked on Tony's, she took it further into her mouth. When she had successfully taken half of it down her throat she began bobbing her head up and down, stroking with her hand as she went.
Tony groaned. "Yesssss..."
*
McGee was taking a sip of the weak tea he'd found in cupboards of the small kitchenette area when his phone rang.
Ziva. "Hey Zi-" He stopped short when he heard the response... or lack of, from the other end. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Then again, he should've known better. After all, Tony was known for chasing any and all skirts that passed him.
An idea began to formulate. Not really one to get even, McGee decided that the old adage still applied. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
*
Tony was focusing on something, anything at all, to keep from coming too quickly. With Ziva's succulent lips wrapped around his dick the way it was, her tongue stroking it, this was proving to be incredibly hard.
Hard being the operative word, obviously.
