Author's Note: Greetings, readers. This is my first posted story. I'm so excited!

I came up with this at about 5AM so if it doesn't flow, it's because I was half asleep. It's an NCIS story. I just now got into it and the TIVA element drew me in like a moth to a bug zapper. Some of my stuff may be non canon but I'll get better at that soon enough. Thank god for DVR and Wikipedia, eh? Anyway, here's the first chapter and it's a blend of humor/angst/ and a little sexy time. Hope y'all like it.
Disclaimer: NOT MINE. IF IT WAS, I WOULD NOT BE LIVING WITH MY PARENTS AND WORRYING ABOUT CHEMISTRY AND ENGLISH HOMEWORK I "FORGOT" TO DO.

She was screaming, wildly thrusting her hips into his. He flipped them and drilled into her, growling her name over and over. The bed was shaking and her screams be came a loud, liberated howl as his seed poured into her.

"TONY!"

Sitting bolt upright, Ziva David was shaking with barely suppressed lust. Looking to her right, she half expected Anthony DiNozzo to be there. Of course, he wasn't. This was getting unbearable. MOSSAD had trained to deal with killers, terrorist, even rapists. They didn't teach her anything about love.

She had been taken down by an Italian-American, movie obsessed, goofy, down right excellent NCIS agent. He didn't even have to fire a shot! All he had to do was grin or laugh manically at a good prank and she was a puddle of goo.
Reaching into her bedside cabinet, she found her thick black journal she'd been keeping since her arrival in America. Opening to a blank page, she began to write frantically getting the words out.

MAY 2006-0230 Hours

I had yet another dream of him. They're becoming more frequent and vivid. This time, we were in the hotel (you know, THE HOTEL), only we weren't faking it or undercover. What am I going to do?! Anthony is my partner, not to mention my best friend! How am I going to keep my sanity if I just want him to do me?!
It's not just desire. It's love. I'm in love with Anthony James DiNozzo. His assignment/love thing with Jeanne Benoit didn't motivate me to make a move after it ended. Oh, no! Stupid me had to push him away! It hurt to be lied to but I basically cast him to the wolves. I'm so worried about him.
See, he's been so depressed. We haven't pranked McGee in ages and Gibbs hasn't head slapped him in almost 3 months. He's lost weight and I can tell he hasn't been sleeping.

God, why is that when one of us tries to make a move, the other runs, does something stupid, or gets hurt? It's like some outside force is writing our story and using plot twists to keep us apart. Kind of like a TV show. Sure, it's good for ratings but what about us? Can the writers throw us a damned bone, please?! Ugh... can't believe I just wrote that. If Anthony doesn't drive me to the loony bin, I'll end up doing it myself.

All right, brain. Wake up and give me some options.

#1: Go back to Israel and never see him again.

Pros: Out of sight, out of mind.

Cons: Lose my family and Anthony.

No good. Next option, please

#2: Tell him.

Pros: Get it off my chest.
Cons: I may have just imagined all the tension between us and after being rejected, I'll be heartbroken. And I'll look like a...Dumbass? Yeah, that's it.

No Good. Can't you think of anything I can use?
Come on, brain. Help me out!

#3: Stay Quiet.

Pros: Keep my dignity intact.

Cons: He never finds out. He finds some big breasted Stepford Wives extra, marries her, has babies with her, and I end up an embittered old cat lady. And I hate cats!

"Damn it!" she groaned, thumping her head against her wooden headboard.

#4: Become a Lesbian.

I love men too much. I love Anthony too much.

Brain, you have failed me! And Heart, you're just making things worse!

I guess I'll have to go it alone.

Ziva never expected to fall in love. Hell, she never expected to see 30.

Yet, there she was. 33.5 years old with nothing but her sig and her journal to keep her warm at night.
Just as she put her journal away, ready to distract herself with a snack, her phone began to vibrate and ring. Her ringtone was I'm a Man by Chicago, one of her favorite songs.
She caught it and flipped it open with practiced ease.

"David.", she answered.

"Gear up, Zee-Vah. We got a dead marine. The body was stuffed in the ceiling of a local Stop and Go. Or Stop and Stick Up, as I call them."

Ziva chuckled. It was nice to hear Tony's gallows/frat boy sense of humor again.

"Okay. Come get me?"
"Sure. I'll be there in 20. Bye."
"Shalom."
She closed the phone and hurried to find something to wear.
She really wanted to look nice for him.