Here's one more chapter to this one. I may extend it one more chapter depending on how you all like this one, but I haven't committed to it yet. I hope you enjoy it. Gregg.

Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

A fully dressed Ziva David came into Tony DiNozzo's bedroom to find him stiffly pulling on his socks. It was Tony's first day back to work since the under cover operation, and while he was much better, he was still not fully recovered.

"That is why you are going to be shooting a desk, yes," Ziva said, a slight chuckle in her voice. While she was still angered that Tony had had to go through what he did, he was rather humorous to observe.

"It's flying a desk, but shooting one will probably be what I want to do by the end of the day," Tony corrected as he sat up straight. He felt a stirring below the belt when he got a good look at her. "Why do you always have to look so hot?" he moaned out loud.

"I look hot in this?" Ziva asked, a little bewildered at the male mind. All she had on was her usual cargo pants, t-shirt, and hoodie. It was functional and infinitely practical. How was that in any way hot?

"Trust me, Sweet Cheeks," Tony said, using his favorite nickname for her. "A guy knows when a girl is hot, and you're definitely hot."

"So Little Tony is sending you some signals, yes?" she questioned teasingly.

"Hey, watch the little, Sweet Cheeks," Tony said, a bit sensitive about any "little" comments like all guys would be. He had nothing to worry about in fact, but the comments were difficult to let by without some indignation. "He prefers being called The Big D, and I should hope you'd agree with that after the last week."

Ziva chuckled. The last week had been one evening of fabulous sex after another. And while she would never give him the satisfaction, she had to admit that he was indeed big. The orgasms that The Big D had provided her while inside of her had been amazing.

"I am serious, Tony," she said with some concern. "Don't overdo anything. Gibbs will understand, and so will everyone else."

"I hope he understands about our obliterating Rule 12," Tony grumbled. He'd been worried about it all the past week, and there had been a couple of times in the early evening when Ziva had been giving him some "personal" attention, that Gibbs had called to check up on him. Each time Tony had almost had a stroke. He stood up. "How do I look?" he asked.

"You look fine, My Little Hairy Butt," she said, adding in her own favorite nickname for him.

"Ziva?" he warned, drawing her name out in a drawl. The last thing he wanted was for Gibbs and the rest to know what she called him. Probie would never let him hear the end of it, and Gibbs would make his life a living Hell for all eternity with his dry witticisms.

She smiled. "Don't worry, I won't let anyone know what I call you," she told him.

"Thank God," he sighed in relief. "Let's go."

The first couple of hours had been pretty simple, and he'd been visited by everyone at one point or another. Ducky had come up and questioned him about his medications and how he was coping with the aftermath of his experience. Abby had almost killed him with her excited hug, and then promptly apologized when she had seen his face scrunching in pain. She'd brought him her farting hippo for company while he was at work, though she'd told him that the little guy was not to leave the building. Probie had loaded him down with files as far as the eye could see, and then a couple of books that actually looked interesting. Not that he'd tell Probie that, but he was touched. Even Director Sheppard had come down and let him know that if he needed it he could have more time off. The real shocker was when Gibbs had come in, handed him a cup of coffee, and said it was for the wounded hero. Now that was not Gibbs! But he wasn't about to knock getting a free cup of coffee from the Boss.

All through the morning, though, he could sense Ziva's eyes on him, carefully cataloging every move he made to see if he was okay. Tony was a bit nervous about that. Gibbs was not stupid. Anything out of the ordinary put the man on hyper alert and he'd notice everything. It wasn't going to take long before the shit hit the fan and Gibbs figured out that Rule 12 had been broken any number of times, and ways, in the last week. He quickly opened a PM to Ziva.

Ziva! Quit looking at me like that! Gibbs'll know and I will be head slapped from now till Doomsday! Tony.

Naturally that did nothing to quell the stares and looks that Ziva was giving him. Instead there was a ping and he saw he had a PM from her.

You worry too much My Little Hairy Butt. Ziva.

Tony looked at the message incredulously. Worry too much? Damn straight he worried! He was recovering from being seriously beaten while tied down in a chair. The last thing he needed was to get even more poundings from a seriously pissed off former Marine sniper.

Z. I don't think you understand how much trouble we'll be in. We broke one of Gibbs' rules. And not one of the small ones, either. This one is the Grandaddy of them all! Cool it or your Little Hairy Butt will end up pulling duty in the wastelands of very Northern Alaska! He may even pull strings and create an NCIS station for yours truly at the North Pole! I don't like the cold, Z. Tony.

Just as Tony saw that she had read the message, and he was not too pleased when he saw her trying not to laugh (somehow he felt that she didn't understand the gravity of this potential disaster) he heard the voice he had been dreading hearing all day.

"DiNozzo! David! My office!" Gibbs barked as he walked by the entrance to the bullpen. He reached back and gave DiNozzo a head slap.

"Ow!" Tony said as he rubbed his heads. "On your six, Boss!" he sang out as he gave Ziva an I told you so glare.

The three of them entered the elevator and when it had gone down a few seconds Gibbs hit the stop button and the thing lurched to a halt, the lighting changing to auxiliary mode. Gibbs turned and glared at the two of them.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Bad hair day, Boss?" Tony quipped, which earned him a rather strong head slap.

"Not funny, DiNozzo," Gibbs warned. He crossed his arms, continuing to glare at the two of them. "When did it happen?" he demanded.

"What happen?" Ziva asked, playing dumb. She got her own head slap, but not nearly as forceful as the one Tony got.

"Rule 12," Gibbs supplied. "As in when did the two of you decide to break it?"

"It was all Ziva's fault, Boss!" Tony deflected, earning a very pointed, and menacing, glare from Ziva. "She took advantage of me in my weakened condition!"

"Weakened condition?" Gibbs asked, actually pretty amused. He could imagine the Hell Ziva would be giving DiNozzo when they left work that day.

"Actually, Gibbs, it was all Tony's idea," Ziva said with no hint of subterfuge, and gave a triumphant look over to Tony.

Tony's jaw about dropped. "Boss! I swear...!"

"Oh, give it a rest, DiNozzo!" Gibbs ordered. He gave them one last glare. "Against my better judgment, and at the direct orders of our Director, you can keep on breaking Rule 12. Just keep it away from work. Got it?"

"Yes, Boss!"

"Yes, Gibbs!"

Gibbs stabbed the resume button and the elevator car lurched up. The doors opened and he gave the each a head slap on the way out.

"Get back to work!" he ordered.

"See My Little Hairy Butt? Nothing to worry about," Ziva said as she walked back to the bullpen.

"Little Hairy Butt, Tony?" McGee asked, a wide smile on his face.

Tony froze in horror. "Ziva!" he whined, rushing back to the bullpen. When he rounded the corner of the partition he saw her working away at her computer, a knowing smile on her face. Gibbs was trying hard not to snicker, and it came out as a smirk. With a groan of frustration he made his way back to his desk and got back to work. He just knew this was going to be a long day. His computer pinged, signalling that he had a PM. Opening it, he sat there and stared at the message in shock.

Give yourself a head slap and get back to work! Gibbs.

Tony slapped the back of his head and diligently got to work on the files. All the while he wondered just how technologically savy Gibbs really was.

"Working, Boss!"

A/N: Probably a bit anticlimactic, but I wanted to end this on a somewhat funny, but positive note. Thank you for all who reviewed and those that read the story. I hope you all enjoyed it. Gregg.