"Where are the papers I have to sign, Duck?" Special Agent Tony DiNozzo asked as he walked into the autopsy room early one morning.

"They're over on my desk," Ducky answered while turning around from the x-ray he was examining. "You seem to be in a bit of a hurry, Anthony. I wasn't aware a call came in."

"One didn't and I want to make sure I'm out of here before one does," Tony replied and sat down at the desk against the wall. He picked up the pen he found lying on top of the papers and began looking them over. "I'm using some comp time and getting away for a long weekend."

"Getting away?" Ducky asked thoughtfully. "Finally taking that beach vacation at last? You've been wanting to do that for some time now."

"Not unless Montréal has a large expanse of beach I don't know about," Tony said and looked up from the papers he was signing.

"Montréal? I believe that there are a few beaches, not like those in the tropics but beaches nonetheless," Ducky answered. "It doesn't really seem like your idea of a long weekend getaway."

"I don't know, Duck; it has a certain je ne sais quoi," Tony replied elusively and went back to the paperwork.

"Would that je ne sais quoi happen to be named Victoria?" Ducky asked and smiled at the NCIS agent indulgently. He had heard the rumors floating around the building regarding the agent. Abby, who usually told him everything going on at NCIS, wouldn't confirm or deny the gossip when anyone asked which added more fuel to the rumors. Tony himself had been unusually reticent and displayed an uncharacteristic lack of bravado about his social life since his return after his overnight hospital stay. Ducky now knew the rumors were mostly true.

"So you've heard?" Tony nodded absently and looked up at the medical examiner now standing beside him.

"That sort of news travels fast, Anthony," Ducky replied.

"Especially since it's me," Tony said wryly.

"Yes, well, I'm sure that added to the general interest. I wouldn't let it bother you, someone will soon take your place," Ducky said. "I'll bet Victoria's looking forward to seeing you."

Tony stood up and handed the pen to Ducky. "I'm surprising her. It's gonna be just the two of us, Ducky. No work, no siblings, no hospitals allowed."

"Enjoy yourself, my boy," Ducky told Tony as he walked out of autopsy.

While Tony was on his flight to Montréal, Victoria Theriault walked into her office after meeting with other curators and assistants about the exhibition that was opening the next night. She was surprised to find someone seated in the high back chair facing her desk. She was even more surprised that someone had a familiar face when he rose and turned to face her.

"Victoria, how have you been?" the man asked in French as he stepped closer to her. He kissed her on both cheeks as he continued, "You're as beautiful as ever."

"Charles, this is a surprise," she replied taken aback by his presence. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard about the exhibition," he answered and handed her a bouquet of fresh flowers. "I thought I'd come for the opening."

"You heard about the exhibition?" Tori asked the man she had once lived with in France before going to sit behind her desk. She had not heard from Charles Alauzet since she had left Paris when they had broken up years prior.

"You borrowed two pieces from a very good friend," Charles said plainly and returned to the chair.

"I don't remember your name coming up in conversation with anyone I spoke to," she told him as she wondered about the reason for his sudden reappearance in her life.

"No, but you did happen to mention your love of scouring the markets on Rue Cler," he stated. "I decided that the possibility of two women devoted the Rue Cler markets while being extremely knowledgeable about classical art was very rare."

"So you decided to come to Montréal all because of Rue Cler?" she inquired with a quizzical look on her face .

"I decided to come to Montréal and see if I was correct. And I was," Charles told her with a smile and then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Do you have time for lunch?"

"It's a busy time for me, Charles," Tori replied honestly. She was still uncertain how she felt about him tracking her down after so long and not sure she wanted to prolong the encounter.

"Victoria," he objected. "I'm sure they will allow you some time for lunch."

"Fine, but I can't be gone all afternoon. I have things I need to get done," she answered. "There's a bistro not far from here if you don't mind walking."

"You're a very difficult person to find, do you know that?" Charles told her when they were seated at an inside table close to the front of the restaurant.

"You've been trying to find me? Why?" Tori answered warily and switched to English in the hopes of a shorter conversation.

"I wondered how you were over the years," Charles replied. "How do you say it? I wondered what you have been up to."

"I haven't been in hiding since coming back," she told him.

"I was looking for Victoria Sciuto in New Orleans," he said seriously. "I was surprised to find you living in Montréal with a different name."

"It's been a long time, Charles," she told him. "You didn't really expect me to be sitting around pining after you ended things?"

"You are married now, yes, but you do not wear a ring?" he asked ignoring her inquiry and let his eyes move from her face to her hand and back again. As she followed his gaze, she was almost certain that Charles' sudden arrival in Montréal was related to more than a museum exhibit.

"My husband died," Tori said shortly not wanting to get in to more details.

"I'm so sorry, Victoria," Charles told her. "It must be difficult to be surrounded by the memories, yet you stay?"

"I like my job and the city. It's home," she replied. "How are things with you?"

"My wife left me last year," he answered. "She moved back to Nice with our two children."

"That must be difficult," Tori said sincerely.

"At times," he told her. "My colleague tells me there's an opening coming up at the Cluny. It would be perfect for you and you could return to Paris."

"Is that what brings you here?" she said. "You wanted to tell me about a job?"

"You loved Paris," Charles responded ignoring her questions again. "You would be happy there again. Think of what it would do for your career."

"I'm happy here, Charles," she said earnestly. "Besides, tapestries really aren't my thing."

"You are happy being alone?" he asked.

"I'm not alone," Tori said correcting him. "I have friends here. My family is in Washington, DC which isn't that far away. Plus, I'm still close to my husband's family. They check in on me from time to time and make sure I'm okay."

"You could make new friends," he told her. "Revisit the places you used to go. Rekindle old friendships."

"It's not that easy, Charles. I can't just leave," Tori protested. "I have a life here; a job I love; a boyfriend."

"Aahhh. He wouldn't like you to go even if it would benefit you and your career?" he asked curiously.

"I wouldn't like me to go right now," she replied making sure to stress the "I".

"It's serious this relationship?" he inquired looking directly into her eyes.

"Mostly," she answered deliberately vague as she stared back at him. Tori liked Tony… a lot, but they had really only become somewhat more seriously involved in the past month or so. At this point she had no idea where their relationship was headed and didn't want to look too far in the future given Tony's past. She also did not want Charles knowing more about her life than he already knew.

"It's getting late, I need to get back to the museum," Tori added as she rose from her chair.

"Promise me you'll think about it, Victoria? It is too important an opportunity to just brush aside without giving it some thought, especially if you are unsure about your boyfriend," Charles told her.

"My answer isn't going to change," she replied.

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo dialed Tori's number at the Montréal Museum of Fine Arts as he sat in his rental car at the airport and asked to speak with Victoria Theriault.

"I'm sorry, she's out for lunch," Sylvie, the receptionist, said to him. "Would you like her voice mail?"

"No, merci," he answered and hung up. He drove to the museum despite the fact Victoria was out, determined to not let all of his plans go awry. After finding a parking space he walked in the direction of the small bistro Tori had taken him to when he was searching for Abby. With any luck, that was where Victoria Theriault was having lunch.

As he approached the restaurant he spied Victoria sitting at a small table near the front window. Sitting opposite her was a handsome older man with dark hair that was greying and strong, chiseled features. Instead of walking inside and approaching them, Tony stood where he was and watched. As Tori rose to leave, the man leaned in and gave her a quick kiss causing Tony to shake his head in dismay and disbelief.

Tony quickly turned and headed back towards the museum and his car before she passed his way as she exited the restaurant. In the parking lot, Tony sat in his car and thought over the past few months since he had met Victoria Theriault. She had told him that she expected his full attention to their relationship and he was totally committed to seeing where it might go. He never suspected even for a second that she might be seeing someone else. He put the key in the ignition and started the engine. A few seconds later, Tony shut off the engine and banged his hands against the steering wheel. He got out of the car and walked into the museum.

"Sylvie, is Victoria back from lunch?" he asked when he approached the desk.

"Yes, let me call her and let her know you're here," she answered without asking his name. Tony had made quite an impression on her the first time he had visited the museum.

"Not necessary. I remember where her office is," he said and strode down the hall to Tori's office as Sylvie followed trying to catch up.

"She's on the telephone," Sylvie told him sternly outside Tori's partially opened office door. Tony ignored her, knocked on the doorframe and pushed the door open wider before walking in. From her desk, Tori looked up as the door swung open and Tony stood in the entrance.

"Can I call you back? Something's come up here that needs my immediate attention," she said into the phone and hung up. "Tony, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," he said shortly.

Tori looked at him with narrowed eyes not really believing him and then glanced to towards Sylvie who lingered in the doorway watching. "Thanks for bringing him down, Sylvie." She then turned her attention back to Tony and asked, "What are you doing here on a Thursday afternoon?"

"I told you I'd come see you in a few weeks," he said. "Here I am."

"I didn't think we decided on anything definite," she replied with a hint of a smile.

"Obviously," he said gruffly and glanced towards her desk. On the far corner sat a bunch of flowers still wrapped in paper. They appeared to be fresh and to have been casually tossed there. "Want to get some lunch? I didn't eat before I left, I thought I'd wait and get something with you."

"I already ate. If I had known you were coming, I would've waited," she said and stared at him directly. The tone of his voice since arriving had not gone unnoticed but Tori wasn't about to get into what was bothering him while she was at work. She dug in her purse and fished out her keychain. She took off the key to her apartment and tossed it at him. "Do you think you can find your way to my place again? I'll try to get out of here as early as I can."

He caught the key effortlessly. "Thanks, I'm sure I'll find it," Tony replied disarmed by her ease. "You don't mind, do you?"

"If I did, you wouldn't have the key in your hand right now," she replied wondering where his questions were coming from. "Make yourself at home. If you don't feel like stopping for food, there's leftovers in the refrigerator."