This is the sequel to "McGee Becomes the Hero". I finally found the ideas to do another few chapters of Elle and McGee's life together!!!

Tony walked into the bullpen one morning, took one glance at McGee, and then stopped suddenly. The other agent was listening to something on his IPOD and his feet were doing some sort of pattern on the floor beneath his desk.

"Hey, McDance-a-Lot, what are you doing?" Tony wanted to know, setting his bag down beside his own desk. "Ziva, what is he doing?"

Ziva looked up from her book. "I have no idea." She looked at Timothy and then back at Tony. "Let's find out."

Tim was lost in music and thought when someone took his headphones out quite suddenly. "Hey!" he exclaimed.

"Would you care to explain what you're doing, Fred?" Tony wanted to know, referring to Fred Astaire.

McGee sighed. He'd been discovered, so he might as well admit the truth. "Okay, Elle talked me into taking dance class," he admitted. "I'm just refreshing my memory on the box step."

"Dance lessons?" Tony repeated seriously. Then, he burst into unrestrained laughter. "You let her talk you into that?"

McGee sighed and rolled his eyes. Ziva just folded her arms across his chest.

"I think it is a wonderful idea," she finally remarked. "Dancing is wonderful exercise."

Tim smiled triumphantly up at her. "Thanks, Ziva," he told her.

DiNozzo sat down at his desk, eyeing Ziva warily. "You like the idea? What are you? Insane?"

Ziva smiled smugly. "I think you are afraid of not knowing what to do, Tony," she remarked.

Tony laughed again, but it was a nervous laugh this time. "Am not!" he insisted.

Ziva laughed herself. "Okay. Then take lessons with me."

McGee's mouth dropped open and surprise flashed across Tony's handsome face.

"Dance lessons with you?" Tony repeated. "Are you freakin' kidding me?"

Sitting down at her desk, Ziva smiled again and twirled a pen in her fingers. "Is somebody afraid?" she asked slyly.

"All right, you want to take dance lessons with McGee and Elle, then we'll do it." Ziva turned to McGee, who was still somewhat in shock from what had just passed between his teammates. "So, McGee, can you get us a spot in the class?" she wanted to know.

"Uh...um...I'll just uh...call Elle right now," he stammered. As he dialed his phone, a smile spread across his boyishly cute face.

I was sitting at the desk of my new job, a secretary to a banker, when my desk phone rang.

"Ms. Collins' office, this is Elle. How can I help you?"

"Hey, baby, it's Tim," the voice on the other end of the line said.

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure that my boss was still in her office. She was. "I'm glad you called, McGee. I wanted to tell you that if you don't want to go tonight we don't have too."

"Nah, Elle, it's fine. I want to go. But I was wondering if maybe you would call the studio and see if we can get another spot for Tony and Ziva. They want to take lessons with us," Tim told me.

I choked on my coffee. "Are you serious?" I gasped. "Did you tell them any of the particulars?"

"Nope. But they really want to take with us, Elle. Think you can call them?"

A huge smile spread across my face. "I think I can arrange that. Do I have you permission to use some of my more...persuasive methods, if necessary?"

"Go for it, sweetheart. I'll see you tonight. I love you, Elle."

"I love you, too, Timmy."

When I hung up the phone, I had to muffle my unrestrained giggles as I pulled the dance studio's card out of my desk drawer and dialed the number quickly. Fortunately for me, I managed to obtain the last space available for the class.

Later that evening, at 5PM, I grabbed my purse, told my boss goodnight, and headed downstairs to the parking garage. My office was only ten minutes from the NCIS building, and in no time at all, I was parking my car in the NCIS parking deck.

McGee had left me a pass at the desk, like he always did whenever I was coming by to visit the team, or just see him on my lunch break. I walked up to the desk and smiled at the security guard.

"Ms. Charlton!" he greeted me. "How're you doing? How are the wedding plans going?"

I grinned. Over the past months, I'd gotten to know the various guards that worked the desk and they me. "They're great, Bill. We're thinking of going to Jamaica."

Bill handed me my pass after I signed the clipboard. "Have a good evening, Ms. Charlton."

"Thanks. I'll see you again soon."

I rode the elevator up and McGee met me at the door. I looped my arm around his neck and rose up on my tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips.

"I'm glad you're here," he told me softly. "I love you. Have I told you that lately?"

I smiled at my fiancé. "Seems like you might have," I teased, kissing him again quickly and then wrapping my arms around him tightly. Never would I forget how close we'd come to losing each other forever. If one bullet had only been a few inches to the left or just a little higher, I'd never be able to look in to McGee's bright blue eyes and hear him tell me that he loved me more than anything.

"If you two lovebirds can stop making out in the office, we might actually make this dance class on time," Tony remarked sarcastically, walking up to us, followed closely by Ziva.

"Don't worry, Tony," I told him. "We've got forty-five minutes."

"What exactly will we be learning?" Ziva wanted to know.

McGee shrugged casually. "You know, the Foxtrot, the Waltz, and the Quickstep. All the Latin dances come later."

"Latin?" Tony repeated, his smile disappearing.

"Yeah, you know, the Rumba, the Samba, the Mambo, the Jive and maybe a few more. I'm not sure," I replied.

Tony looked at Ziva. "You're gonna pay for this, David."

"Oh," I laughed to myself. "You have no idea!"