"This. . .is the perfect way to spend the weekend."

"I can think of better things to pass the time."

With that, I undo the satin belt, letting the fabric fall over my shoulders and to the ground. The two of us inch closer, our lips meeting in the middle.

Minutes later, we are both completely undressed and swimming in the covers of the bed. My hand finds the remote on the nightstand, and I switch on the blaring music.

"Prime acting, my dear." Tony's lips brush against my neck as I slip under a moment of bliss.

Something. . .below pokes my inner thigh. "Doesn't feel like you were acting, honey."

"For your information, that's my knee." He clarifies. "Let's say another. . .forty minutes? After all, I have a reputation to protect."

"A reputation only I get to witness, right?" A smirk dangles across my lips.

"I'd have it no other way."

As Tony said, we wait forty minutes, switching positions every so often, before laying side by side in bed. Suddenly, there's a knock at the door.

"Room service." A voice call from the other side.

I grab the satin robe tossed over the chair, slipping it around my figure before opening it up. Just as planned, McGee arrives.

He's dressed in a bellboy uniform as he wheels in a tray of metal platters, wine, and flowers. We slip in the ear comms. McGee sweeps the room for bugs before placing some of his own.

When he detects one on the small table, he discreetly places a metal cover on top, prohibiting all connection to the other team.

"DiNozzo, what the hell are you doing?" Looks like comms are working. "You're married assassins, not visitors at the Playboy Mansion."

Tony attempts to cover himself up once again. "Blame the missus, boss. It was her idea."

Our conversation is cut short with the telephone ringing.

"Have her answer it." Jenny instructs.

"I'll get it, honey."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

Picking up the telephone, I press it against my right ear for the team back home to be able to hear.

"There's a cellphone in the Bible next to your bed." The man speaks in a heavy tone.

I approach the drawer, opening up the drawing and Bible to reveal a cellphone cut into the pages of the religious book.

"I have it."

"Keep it with you at all times. You have dinner reservations at the hotel dining room at 9:00. Don't be late."

The dial tone emits as soon when he hangs up the phone.

I slip the cellphone into the pocket of my robe. "Change of plans, sweetheart." I sultrily strut towards him. "That was the concierge. We were able to reserve a table in the dining room after all."

A small grin appears on his face at the sweet nickname.

"Seems like we have a wonderful night ahead of us." He hands me my flute of champagne, and we touch glasses.

Once we change into our formal evening wear, Tony and I leave for the restaurant downstairs. He wears one of Abby's latest inventions: spy glasses.

"There's quite a crowd here tonight." He scans the crowd, allowing Abby to identify everyone in the room and retrieve a background.

"Yes. Yes, there is." My thoughts drift off to the hand he has strategically placed over my thigh.

Tony picks a shrimp off the cocktail he ordered earlier. "See anyone you know, sweetheart?"

"No." I attempt to ignore his hand, although it drifts dangerously high. "But the night has just begun, darling."

A waiter arrives with our trays of food. I, of course, have ordered a salad and Tony the steak. But before I can take a bite, he calls back the waiter.

"My wife ordered the chicken." He chuckles before growing serious. "And I'd prefer if you didn't assume her eating habits by bringing out a plate of cow food."

"I'll bring out the chicken, sir." Probably crapping his pants, the waiter runs off with the salad.

"Way to keep your cool."

"Just because we're on a fake date doesn't mean you can forgo your diet."

Tony begins to cut his steak when Gibbs interrupts.

"Switch hands, DiNozzo. Ducky says Ranier's a lefty."

It takes everything in me to not burst out into laughter right at that second, but I pinch my arm to control myself.

The senior agent struggles to cut his steak with opposite hands. "If we were on an actual date, I'd be able to eat with my right hand and not make a fool out of myself."

Suddenly, the cellphone from the Bible begins to ring.

"Oh, would you look at that? It's our dear friend." I flash the cell against Tony's glasses so the others could track the number. "Nice of you to call again. We were waiting patiently." My fingers drum against the tabletop.

"Thought it would help to see your target in person tonight."

"He's in this restaurant?"

"You don't see him?"

"Over twenty hours of flight, you're lucky I'm not asleep. The restaurant is also completely packed." I stifle a gentle but silent yawn. "But we will recognize him soon enough."

Abby continues to trace the call, so I need to stall him some more.

"There are quite a few U.S. Marines in here. It doesn't seem worth the danger for the sum you're paying us."

"Accomplish your mission, and we'll discuss more."

I chuckle under my breath. "Unfortunately, that doesn't mean you will pay us more."

"He's calling from a payphone inside the restaurant!" Abby yells into the comms. Tony and McGee move into action while I stay on the phone with our man.

"I have to talk to my boss."

"Yes, yes, do talk to your boss. We will be waiting for —"

The line clicks before I can even finish talking.

"How rude. He hung up on me."

He's gone before the two men get to him. Tony returns to our table as I gaze out into the crowd, keeping an eye for what could be our man.

Tony leans down to kiss my cheek as he sits down. "Must have slipped through the kitchen. I didn't even get a look." My hand wraps around his, squeezing it ever so lightly.

"Should we go back to headquarters?" I mutter to Gibbs.

"No." He declares firmly. "I want you and DiNozzo back in your room, maintaining your cover."

"All night?" He clears his throat abruptly, close to choking on his dry martini.

"Did I stutter or something, DiNozzo?"

I reach over, wiping the bits of food by his lip. "Cheer up, Jean-Paul." My throat vibrates in a slight hum. "You and I have quite a bit of night left."

However, as soon as we arrive in our room, the two of us barely change out of our formal clothes before passing out on the bed.

I wake up at the early hours of five in the morning whilst Tony is still splayed across the bed. He is one sensitive cuddler.

"Tony. Tony. Hey, DiNozzo!" McGee calls him, but he merely switches off the comm. "This is just great. They're sleeping in a five-star hotel, and I'm a waiter."

"If you could, you'd be in this room instead of me." I unprop my legs from the coffee table.

"You're awake?"

"I've been awake since 0500." My back to the flower cam, I stop at the foot of the bed. "He likes to cuddle in his sleep."

He changes the subject. "Ziva has a package for you."

"Is it her shades?" I have been waiting so long for them to arrive. "Think you can bring them up when you serve us breakfast?"

"Sure." He obliges quickly. "But Gibbs wants Tony up, too."

"I can handle that."

My hair falls over one shoulder as I bend forward beside his head. "Oh, Jean-Paul. Wake up my little. . .cuddle bear."

He simply smiles in his sleep, further hugging the pillow into his chest.

"Wake up. . ." I press sweet kisses to the tip of his ear and neck. ". . .mon cheri."

And when that doesn't do the trick, I drop cold, cold water onto the back of his neck, instantly waking him up from his deep slumber.

"I'm in position, boss!" He stands guard on the bed. . .in only boxers.

"Our breakfast should be arriving soon."

Tony jumps off the bed, his arms wrapping around my waist from behind. "I'm not really in the mood for breakfast. In fact, I —"

"Still right here, DiNozzo."