A/N: This is the first chapter of the story I wrote for three-steps for the NFA Secret Santa exchange. It is an AU Ziva/Jenny romantic pairing, with Jenny still as director of NCIS. There are five chapters in total, which will be updated fairly quickly. The name of the bookstore is an homage to "Ellen," the TV show that aired from 1994 – 1998 and broke ground in so many ways. The usual disclaimers apply, though the original characters are mine. Rating will go up in later chapters. I hope you enjoy the story and that you'll let me know if you do. =)

It was the Friday after Thanksgiving and Jennifer Shepard was heading home after putting in several hours at the office, despite the fact that it was technically a holiday for the agency. Truth be told, she had no place else to be and had relished getting through a veritable mountain of paperwork without her phone ringing off the hook. She had taken yesterday off, but this still felt like a long week in a series of long weeks. Nothing particularly difficult had been on her plate of late; just the continual round of meetings and phone calls, and smoothing the feathers that her best lead agent was so good at ruffling.

Yet, Jenny found herself feeling…restless. There was nothing wrong in her life. She had a challenging job she had worked hard to obtain. She had a beautiful home she'd inherited from her parents and a warm relationship with the woman who was more family than housekeeper. She had good friends, though precious little time to see them, it seemed. In fact, she could be on her way right now to the grand opening of a new restaurant owned by some friends, but she wasn't in the mood for a possible crowd. Nonetheless, in spite of all that was good in her life, Jenny was edgy, as though yearning for something more that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Suddenly she didn't want another empty night at home despite the fact that she really wasn't in the mood to be in a group either – at least not one in which she would feel obligated to be jovial, when she just wasn't feeling that way. She spotted some shops near her Georgetown home that had opened a few months ago. They were in a delightful section of town that bordered the stately old residential section in which she lived. The area had been rezoned to include commercial businesses and the buildings were old houses that had been renovated. The developer had created a very inviting spot, Jenny often thought as she drove past, yet she had never stopped there. Given that it was nearly December, the area was decorated for the holidays and looked particularly lovely tonight.

On impulse she lowered the window between her and her driver. "Sam, see if you can find a place to pull over near the shops up here, would you please? I'd like to look around."

"Sure thing, Director Shepard," Sam replied. "Looks like I could pull over up there and let you out, then find a place to park."

"Just let me out and go on home. I feel guilty enough that you showed up to drive me to work today, when you should have had the day off. Your family will be happy to see you."

Sam gave her a level look in the rearview mirror. "With all due respect, ma'am, it's my job to drive you to work, and I'll see that you get home safe and sound."

"Sam," Jenny smiled. "I only live a few blocks from here. Besides, I know a thing or two about protecting myself – and I carry a gun."

"Still –" Sam protested.

"Sam." Jenny pulled out her best director voice. "Go home. That's an order."

"Yes, ma'am," the driver agreed reluctantly.

He pulled to the curb in front of a shop filled with an eclectic mix of china and glassware, as well as some original pottery and glass art. Next door to that was a store that showcased expensive leather goods. She walked through those shops, nearly making an impulsive purchase of a new laptop bag before talking herself out of it. She slowly continued her perusal of the different businesses, admiring much and buying nothing. She felt herself slowly begin to relax and to genuinely enjoy her stroll.

Coming out of an antique shop, her attention was caught by a pine green Victorian-style house with white gingerbread trim that was anchoring the end of its block across the way. The sign out front indicated the name of the store was Buy the Book. Cute Jenny thought. There were no obvious Christmas decorations, but there was a single electric candlelight in every window. Clear white lights outlined the door and the two bay windows flanking it. The windows were well-lit to showcase a display of books in each, one devoted to children's items and the other an eclectic mix of other interests. More white lights curled along the banister that lined the wide front porch and twisted just under the handrails for the steps.

Jenny was drawn to the place and climbed the steps. Pushing open the door, she heard bells tinkle gently from their perch on the inside door handle. Her senses were immediately swamped in a pleasing manner. She noticed the smells first: new books, old books and a very light woodsy scent. It was well-lit, though most of the lighting was recessed or indirect, creating a warm glow rather than harsh brightness. Instrumental music of the seasonal variety was coming from speakers that were not immediately obvious. Sounded like Manheim Steamroller to her, and she found herself humming the words to "Winter Wonderland" in her head without even realizing it.

There were plump, cushy chairs and loveseats placed about, inviting one to find a good book and curl up with it right there. The books were mostly arranged on shelves, though side and coffee tables were scattered about, too, with books and other items on those, as well.

As the door closed behind her, Jenny felt the last of the tension she'd been carrying melt away. She loved books and the environment here was so inviting…she felt lighter, interested. There was no one about just now, which surprised her. The other shops hadn't been crowded, but there'd been a good amount of traffic in and out of them. Then she noticed the hours posted and realized the store was only open for about twenty more minutes.

A wave of disappointment took her by surprise, then she shrugged it off. She decided to look around a bit and come back another time for a longer stay.

"Feel free to look around," a lilting accented feminine voice called out from somewhere in the back. "I will be out in a moment."

That voice was as intriguing as the rest of the shop, and her heart rate kicked up a little. Wow – it's been a long time if only her voice can pique my interest like that Jenny thought.

Few people at work knew that Jennifer Shepard dated women. It's not that she went out of her way to stay in the closet; she simply didn't choose to shout her way out of it. It was just one aspect of who she was and she could never figure out why it was such a big deal to some people. Plus, she worked around a lot of military folks, and "don't ask, don't tell" had been the kindest official stance on that issue until very recently, though it was a far-from-perfect solution.

Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. "Sorry, I –"

The woman coming through a white swinging door suddenly stopped, eyes widening a little as she took in her customer. She was mesmerized by Jenny's attractive face framed by very short, stylish red hair and a figure that managed to be elegant and alluring at the same time. Jenny caught a quick glimpse of a kitchen behind the door as it swung gently back and forth a couple more times, before her focus centered on the woman who'd just come through the doorway.

Feeling a bit like someone had just planted a roundhouse kick to her solar plexus, Jenny could only stare at the dark-haired beauty that now stood before her. Black curls flowed past the woman's shoulders. Her skin had a tanned hue and eyes the color of good whiskey looked out from a lovely face.

The other woman recovered first. "Welcome," she smiled. "We will be closing soon, but please feel free to look around."

Jenny finally found her tongue again. "I'm sorry – I didn't realize how close it was to closing time when I came in. I could go – "

"No!" the dark-haired woman said quickly. "I mean, I'm glad you did – stop in, that is."

Coming closer, she offered her hand with a smile. "I'm Ziva, Ziva David."

Jenny returned the smile and the handshake. "Jenny Shepard. This place is delightful – is it yours?"

"Well, mine and the bank's," Ziva confirmed dryly. "Please look around. Give a shout if you need me." Her eyes met Jenny's with an unfathomable look that suggested there was more to those words than their face value.

Jenny's heart rate kicked up again. Oh, I need you. Wait. Where had THAT thought come from?

Ziva gave her a knowing smile, then went behind the counter to begin her closing process. There was a gas fireplace in this large front room with an inviting fire crackling. The merchandise displayed in here included best sellers, magazines, accessories such as bookmarks and book lights, and a section of bargain books.

Jenny wandered into the other rooms noting the content for a future visit. Christmas was coming; maybe she could do some of her shopping here. Good excuse to see that beautiful woman again a voice said in the back of her mind. There are worse reasons to shop another voice responded.

"Oh, God, not only am I talking to myself, I'm answering myself. That can't be a good sign," she muttered in a low voice for her ears alone.

In the back, strategically placed near the bathroom, was a large, extensive children's area. There were several other sections, as well, grouped by topic.

She paused when she came to an alcove off to the left. There was an inviting stuffed chair with a large ottoman pressed up to it, so the chair extended like a chaise lounge. On impulse she sat down, allowing herself to sink into the softness for a minute while she looked around at the books in this area. She recognized the spines of a few of the books and scanned the other titles with interest. Author's names such as Katherine Forest, Sarah Waters, Val McDermid and Rita Mae Brown leapt out at her. She leaned back with a smile, closing her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to imagine that this particular section had some personal connection for the shop owner, as well.

Her eyes flew open when a soft, sexy voice said, "I see you have discovered one of my favorite spots." She found Ziva leaning against the doorway into the alcove, arms crossed, a smile on her face.

Jenny was more than a little embarrassed to have been caught in such a position – and that Ziva had managed to sneak up on her.

"I'm sorry," she began for the second time, getting up from the chair.

"Please – don't be. I am very pleased to find you in here," Ziva assured her, her dark eyes sending a message of definite interest.

There went Jenny's heart rate again – and her imagination.

"Well, I'm sure I've kept you past your closing time," Jenny said. "I should go…"

"Actually…" Ziva stalled her. "I …" She pointed toward the front room and screwed her face into an expression that questioned, yet suggested at the same time that she more than half-expected Jenny to say no. "Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?"

Jenny allowed a small smile. Feeling a little like she was just about to bungee-jump off the Washington Monument, she answered, "As a matter of fact, I'd like that."

Ziva's own smile bloomed. "We could sit in front of the fire out here, if you like."

"Sounds great," Jenny agreed, following the other woman as Ziva turned and walked toward the other room.

"Have a seat; I will bring out the tea," Ziva directed, gesturing toward the chairs and loveseat grouped in front of the fireplace with a low coffee table between them.

"Can I help?" Jenny offered.

"I've got it," Ziva tossed over her shoulder. "Make yourself comfortable."

Jennifer slipped off her coat and laid it and her bag on the counter. She looked at the chairs and the loveseat, wondering where she should sit. Get a grip, Shepard; stop over-thinking this.

She – somewhat reluctantly – chose one of the chairs, not wanting to appear too eager to sit close to the dark-haired woman.

Ziva came through the swinging door carrying a tray loaded with a teapot, cups, and a small plate of delicious-looking cookies.

"That was quick," Jenny observed.

"I had just put the water on to heat when you first came in. Usually, I have my tea upstairs, but tonight I was planning to do some extra work down here before calling it a night."

"I feel as though I should apologize for interrupting your work," Jenny responded with a coy smile, "but I'm not really sorry."

Ziva's light laugh delighted Jenny's senses. "I am not sorry either," she admitted. "Besides, dusting the shelves can wait until morning."

Ziva poured the tea and offered Jenny cookies. "So what brings you into my shop tonight, Jenny Shepard?"

"I was heading home from work, but found I wasn't really in the mood to be home…" Alone. Again. She left the last two words unsaid. "I had noticed these shops, but had never explored them. On impulse I had my driver drop me off for a look around. A while later, here I am."

"I'm glad," Ziva said simply with a small smile gracing her lips.

"So am I," Jenny responded in a low voice.

"You have a driver?" Ziva questioned, with a lift of one eyebrow.

"Just for work," Jenny explained. "Comes with the job."

"Oh? What is your job?"

"I'm the director of NCIS." At Ziva's questioning look, Jenny elaborated. "Naval Criminal Investigative Services."

"Impressive," Ziva acknowledged.

Jenny shrugged. "I've worked hard and sacrificed a lot to get to this point. But lately…it just feels like a job…" She looked into the fire, inexplicably introspective.

"I do not wish to pry, but is everything all right?" Ziva asked softly, brows lowered slightly in concern.

Jenny broke out of her reverie. "Hmmm? Oh, yes, it's fine." She shook her head. "I've just been feeling a little out of sorts lately…"

She mentally shook herself. "Sorry – I'm fine. Really. How long have you been here?"

"In this shop? Or in this country?" Ziva asked with a grin.

Jenny laughed. "Both. I've been trying to place your accent. Israeli?"

"Very good. You've impressed me again," Ziva replied with a look that spoke volumes. "My family moved here twelve years ago. I was eighteen and just starting college."

"What brought you here?" Jenny asked.

"My father took a job with your government, something that keeps him tied to his desk and his telephone far too much, if his grumblings are to be believed."

Jenny gave a wry smile. "I know the feeling. Where did you go to college?"

"Columbia."

Jenny raised her eyebrows slightly. "Now it's my turn to be impressed."

Ziva inclined her head in acknowledgement of the compliment. "I love books and my goal was always to own my own bookstore. When other children were playing school, I was playing library," she admitted, making Jenny laugh. "After college, I moved back here near my parents and went to work for a large bookstore. I learned a lot there. Six months ago, I opened this place," she looked around in satisfaction.

"Your shop is terrific. Do you have any help running it?" Jenny asked in a hopefully-subtle attempt to sniff out if there was anyone special in Ziva's life. She'd already noticed Ziva wasn't wearing a ring, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

"I have two college students, Holly and Josh, who work with me part-time; my sister helps out once in a while if she can. She's a nurse, though, so she is pretty busy.

"I live upstairs, which seemed the most cost effective approach…but sometimes I feel like I never get away from work," Ziva said. "There is always something that can be done, and living upstairs makes it hard to ignore it."

"I don't live at my job, but sometimes I feel like I do," Jennifer commiserated. "What interests you besides books?"

"Well, I run most days. I loved my kick-boxing class, but the timing for that has been difficult with my hours at the store. I began training in Krav Maga in Israel and I will confess to keeping up with that whenever I can."

Jenny raised an interested eyebrow. "From books to hand-to-hand combat – a fascinating combination. And not one you find every day."

Ziva grinned. "True. Books are my first love, but there is something powerful about knowing you can take care of yourself in a physical situation, you know?"

"I do," Jenny agreed. "What else do you do besides sell books and practice kicking ass?"

Ziva laughed. "I like dancing and music…what about you?"

"Oh, hiking and taking walks…I like music, as well, and dancing, though I don't have much opportunity for that. Photography interests me, and most nights you can find me curled up with a good book."

"There is no one at home to distract you?" Ziva asked, doing some not-so-subtle fishing of her own.

"Well, there's Louisa," Jenny said, not missing the slight disappointment that crossed Ziva's face. Doing the happy dance inside, she went on. "But considering that she used to change my diapers, it's rather like hanging out with one's mother."

Ziva's brow gathered in confusion.

"Louisa has been the housekeeper at my parents' home since before I was born. After my father died, I inherited the house – and Louisa and the house are a package deal," Jenny shared.

Ziva's face cleared. Ah. "Well. It seems we are both in need of some recreational time," Ziva observed with a suggestive smile.

Jenny smiled back, feeling butterflies start up in her stomach. "You know," she said slowly, "I have an extra ticket to the National Symphony this Sunday afternoon. I don't suppose you'd be interested in joining me?"

"I would like that very much," Ziva replied, with a soft smile on her face. "And Sunday is perfect. The store is open for a few hours in the afternoon, but Holly and Josh take care of that so I can have the day off."

Jenny grinned. "Terrific. I could swing by and pick you up around one thirty. That would give us plenty of time to get there, park and find our seats. The concert starts at three o'clock."

"I will be ready," Ziva promised, her eyes shining.

"Your English is remarkable, by the way," Jenny observed.

"Thank you. I began learning it in primary school in Israel. I know I could use more contractions – they do not come naturally to me. But, going to college in America helped a great deal in becoming more familiar with your language. And sometimes I do not - don't - understand your…what are those things called?" she muttered to herself. She looked to Jenny for help. "Those sayings that sound like one thing but mean something else."

Jenny thought for a moment. "Idioms?"

"Yes! That's it. I have some trouble with 'getting' some of your idioms."

"Well, those can be tricky," Jennifer observed.

"Holly and Josh have strict instructions to correct me with idioms, and I consciously try to use more contractions, but I have to work at it."

"Well, don't force it too much. I think your command of the language is incredible."

"Thank you. While my parents have never changed their citizenship, my sister and I both became American citizens. I would like to speak the language well enough to blend in, but I am not sure that day will come."

Ziva leaned forward to sit her cup on the table and Jenny's attention was caught by the gold Star of David pendant that shimmered in the light for a moment. Her curiosity was roused as she considered the music she still heard playing in the background.

"You have a question," Ziva observed perceptively.

Jenny laughed a little self-consciously. "I could use someone with your powers of observation at the agency. Any interest in a job change?"

"None," Ziva responded, eyes twinkling. "Ask your question."

"Well, I made the assumption that you're Jewish. So, I was thinking that it's surprising that you have Christmas music playing." She paused, looking a little pensive. "Is that offensive? Because it wasn't meant to be."

"Not offensive at all," Ziva reassured her, "and your assumption is correct. I play it because the holiday music is festive and my customers and staff enjoy it, though I'll admit to being partial to the songs about snow and snowmen myself." Her eyes twinkled attractively again. "Actually, I play a variety of music because I want everyone to feel welcome here."

Another wave of attraction hit Jenny as she considered the woman in front of her. The more she learned about her, the more she liked – and the more she wanted to know.

Jenny was reluctant to end the evening, but it had been a long day and she didn't want to overstay her welcome. She sat her cup on the tray and said, "I've enjoyed meeting you very much, and I thank you for the tea. But I should be going."

"Is your driver waiting?" Ziva asked.

"No, he's home for the night," Jenny answered.

"Let me give you a ride, then."

"No, no. I've held up your closing tasks long enough. Besides, I live close by and I'll enjoy the walk," Jenny declined.

"Well, if you are sure…At least take my number and call me when you get home."

It had been a very long time since anyone besides Louisa and Sam had been concerned over whether Jennifer Shepard made it home or not. It felt nice. Really, really nice.

"All right," she acquiesced. Besides, having Ziva's phone number was a definite plus.

Getting up, Jenny pulled her cell phone and reading glasses from her purse. Slipping her glasses on her nose, she smiled at Ziva. "Shoot."

As Ziva gave Jenny her number, she pulled her own cell out of her pocket. "Perhaps I should take your number, too, just in case."

Though her face gave nothing away, inside Jenny was shouting woohoo! She rattled off her number, which Ziva quickly saved in her phone.

Slipping on her coat, Jenny moved toward the door. She paused, then turned back determinedly.

"Can I just ask: are you seeing anyone?"

Ziva smiled and shook her head. "No – but I hope that is about to change," she said with a meaningful look.

Jenny's wide grin was happy. "Me, too." She held out a hand, lingering over holding the dark-haired woman's hand.

"Goodnight. I look forward to seeing you Sunday," Ziva said.

"If not before," Jenny said enigmatically. "Goodnight, Ziva David."

Still grinning, Jenny stepped out onto the porch. She walked home slowly with a silly grin on her face and a lighter heart than she'd had in quite a while.

To be continued...