This is a two-part oneshot from Ziva's POV after the episode 7x06 Inlaws and Outlaws. The next part will be updated, but may be a while as I have exams, and shall feature the team. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS etc, I am just borrowing :)

It had been a long day at the bullpen. A long, boring day. No cases, just paperwork - and occasional stolen glances at the constitution. That only happened when the rest of the team was out – especially Tony. Why was he being more irritating then usual? Ziva knew, it was simple really, he was testing her - can she hack it? Of course she'll pass with flying colours. Another idiom she needed to remember after being corrected by Tony when she said 'like flying kookaburras.' He had annoyed her about it non-stop until she was this far from snapping when Gibbs came and gave Tony a head slap. Tony had been lucky today.

"Tonight will be all about studying," Ziva sighed to herself as she finally sat in her car in the car park. Her heart warmed at the memory of McGee asking her if she needed any help studying; he was a born and bred American after all. Ziva had kindly declined; she always studied better by herself. Just her and her books, maps, plans, whatever; it has always been like that…Ziva shook her head as old memories came flooding back – she didn't need this now, not when she was rebuilding her life. She went to start her car – a rental – when her phone flashed and rang beside her.

"Hello?" Ziva said as she flipped the phone open and held it to her ear.

"Fancy a catch-up drink, Ziva?"

It was late by the time Ziva finally found the bar. Though she had suggested this bar close to her apartment, she was still getting used to this part of town. Gibbs had demanded that the paperwork be done today, Ziva wondered if Tony was still there, a humorous half-smile forming on her lips. She walked into the bar and wasn't surprised at how empty it was – it was a Thursday night after all. She saw him in a booth against the far wall, so she ordered her drink before sitting opposite him.

"Your call was a surprise, Damon." Damon raised his eyebrows.

"A nice surprise?" Damon asked before downing the last of his beer.

"I hope you realise you are keeping me from my studies," Ziva smiled.

"Really, Ziva, what are you studying? How to kill a man in less than ten seconds?" Ziva was tempted to say she already knew how to do that.

"No, I am becoming an American and my exam is soon. I had a plan for tonight."

"Oh, well I hope I didn't rain on your parade," Damon replied with a slight smile. Ziva's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but she dismissed it as more drinks came. She declined a second drink while speculating how many American idioms she'd have to learn, was there an endless amount?

"If you want, we could do this another time Ziva?" Ziva realised that Damon had taken her confusion as annoyance. She quickly smiled and took a sip of her drink.

"No time like the present, right?" Damon nodded, pleased. He was right; his phone call had been a nice surprise for Ziva – though she'd never admit it. It was a welcomed distraction that Ziva didn't realise she needed. She had reasoned with herself while driving to the bar that she would study tomorrow and on the weekend. This opportunity to sit and talk with a friend who didn't know, didn't question her or worry was a cherished moment she couldn't pass up.

"How are you, Ziva? Moved I'm guessing. This is far from where we used to hang out." Ziva noted how observant he was, it had been almost two years since they had last spoken.

"I'm fine. I just needed to…start over, somewhere new, yes?" He nodded, understanding. "And how are you, Damon?"

"Jobless," he said, shrugging, as a sad looked crossed his face. He looked away from Ziva, across to where two youths were dirty dancing before adding, "Again." Ziva sat and waited, he obviously wanted to talk, though his body language contradicted that. It had been him that had called her, after all. Ziva sipped her drink as the silence progressed, he mind wondering to Tony; he must have finished by now.

"I'm sorry Ziva," said Damon. Ziva looked up surprised to see he was looking at her, how could she not have noticed his movements? "I know I called you, but I don't want to talk…" he cut off, not really knowing how to finish the sentence.

"About the past?" Ziva question. He nodded sheepishly, looking back down at his drink. "I understand." He looked up, a questioning look in his eye. Ziva laughed lightly. "Do you think I want to talk about the past then?" He cracked a grin, making him look young and trouble free; Ziva's pulse jumped, but she ignored it – now was not the time.

"How about we look to the future then?" Damon asked, "What should be my next job?" Ziva smiled, and said the first thing that came to mind.

"A bartender?" His smile dropped and he scrutinized her, but she smiled indicating it was a joke, and he laughed.

"Next!"

"Ok, a bouncer then. You sure have the…build for it." Damon choked a little on his beer at this, which just made Ziva laugh louder.

"Oh yes, that is exactly what I want to use my skills on," Damon said between laughing.

"Ok then Mr. Picky," Ziva said, "why don't you suggest something." He smiled.

"A fireman?"

The night had continued on like that until Ziva had finally realised the time - how were these simple things getting past her? – and left. She was now in her bed, doing some quick study. She looked across at her clock, 1:30am it read. She sighed, tomorrow would be a long, tired day. She turned off her lamp and rolled over, instantly closing her eyes and feeling sleep wash over her – at least she would be too tired to dream, if you could call it that.

A loud, close sound woke her from her almost-sleep, making her jump up in bed and point her gun at her bedroom door. She switched the light on and realised it was simply her phone vibrating on her bedside table. She tired to calm her breathing, while scanning the room. After a moment she slipped her gun back under her pillow and reached across to her phone. It was a text message, it read, 'how about a personal trainer? Damon.' Ziva let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. She quickly typed back, 'what happens when your client dies from exhaustion?' She hit send, then turned off her phone. Her mind strayed for a second to Gibbs, then the team – what if they needed her? They all knew her home phone, she was still complying with rule three. She smiled at the thought, and went to sleep, not really sure if she left the light on out of exhaustion or comfort.

AN: This is my first story, so I would love to know what you thought! :) This was not beta-ed and all mistakes are mine. Next part cming soon :)