Tony DiNozzo stood with McGee and Abby in a church lobby, feeling very much like the third wheel as they avidly discussed some computer thing. He checked his watch for the umpteenth time and found that there was another half hour to go until Palmer's wedding began. Why had they gotten here so early?

"Where's Ziva?" he asked, interrupting Abby mid-sentence. "Why didn't she ride with us?"

"I called to see if she wanted us to pick her up, but she didn't think she'd be ready in time," Abby replied, and then grinned as she spotted something over Tony's shoulder. "There she is!"

Tony turned around just in time to see Ziva slipping inside the church. Her dress was dark purple and knee-length, with a sash around the waist and a V-neck that was not terribly revealing. Dark hair fell over her shoulders in loose curls, and her smile when she spotted her coworkers completed her stunning appearance.

There had been many, many times in the past seven years when Ziva had taken Tony's breath away, and this was just the latest. Still, the wedding atmosphere seemed to accentuate all her features, and he found it difficult to take his eyes off of her.

She strode up to him, smirking, and tapped him lightly under the chin. It was only then that he realized he'd been gaping, and he felt his neck get hot.

"Like what you see, Tony?" Ziva asked, giving him that familiar teasing smile before slipping past him to greet McGee and Abby. Tony cleared his throat and tugged at his shirt collar, and, once he had regained his cool, turned back to the group.

When, exactly, had he turned into a bumbling idiot?

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An hour later, the wedding was well under way. Tony sat in the third row, between Abby and Ziva, and stared at the ceiling, wondering what kind of food would be at the reception.

He jumped when something jabbed him, hard, in the stomach. Ziva pulled her arm away and glared at him.

"What the hell was that for?" he hissed.

"Pay attention," she whispered back.

Tony exhaled through his nose and faced the front in time to hear Palmer say "I do". The preacher turned to Breena and said, "Do you, Breena, take Jimmy to be your lawful wedded husband…"

When he finished, she said, "I do," and gave Palmer a completely adoring look. The two were lost in each other's gaze as the ceremony ended, and they were kissing before the preacher finished telling them they could.

Tony crossed his arms and watched the two of them: Palmer, the autopsy gremlin, and Breena, an attractive embalmer. Two peculiar people who were perfect together and, somehow, had found each other in this huge world.

Something hit him, and he turned to look at Ziva. She was watching the happy couple make their way back up the aisle, but she turned her head when she felt Tony's eyes on her. "What?"

"Remember when you asked me if I ever thought about soul mates?"

"And you answered my serious question by talking about one of your movies? Yes, I remember."

Ignoring the jibe, he continued, "I decided I believe in them."

Ziva raised an eyebrow. "In soul mates?"

"Yeah."

"What makes you say that?"

He nodded at Palmer and Breena, who were stepping out the doors at the back of the sanctuary. "Those two."

Even though he didn't offer any further explanation, Ziva seemed to understand. She thought a moment, and then said, "They are rather fitting for each other."

Like us, Tony thought. But he didn't dare say it… not right now, anyway. Right now, he and Ziva were locked in a staring contest, and he was trying to figure out what she was thinking. Her dark eyes were swimming with rare emotion, but he couldn't tell just what those emotions were, and-

"Hey!" Gibbs yelled from down the pew, and Tony and Ziva sprang apart, wide-eyed. The two of them were on the end of the pew, and Gibbs, Ducky, McGee and Abby were all waiting for them to move.

"Sorry, Boss," Tony stuttered, standing up and following Ziva into the aisle. She walked on ahead with Abby, and once they were out of earshot, Gibbs smacked Tony on the back of the head.

"Rule number twelve, DiNozzo."

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Apparently, Mrs. Breena Palmer was a big barbeque fan, because that's what was at the wedding reception. As Tony piled his plate high with ribs, he noted that the meal seemed a little strange for this occasion, but hey, he wasn't complaining.

He shoved the ribs down his throat, too hungry to savor them. In fact, he was so hungry he didn't bother to sit down; he stood in a corner and ate, getting sauce all over his face.

As he was finishing up, Ziva suddenly materialized beside him, holding a wad of napkins. She took his plate, put it in a nearby cart of dirty dishes, and stuffed the napkins into his empty palm. "Please wipe your face."

"Why, you don't like this?" he asked, getting up in her face and baring his teeth.

She coughed and backed away. "Your breath is disgusting."

"It's barbeque, Ziva. It's a staple in American culture. Really, now that you're a citizen-"

One second, he was talking and had napkins in his hand; the next second, his hands were empty and his beautiful Israeli partner was cleaning his face for him. The way she did it was mildly painful, scrubbing at each sauce stain until every last speck was gone.

"There!" Ziva sighed, satisfied. "Much better."

She leaned against the wall beside him, and they watched the dancing couples in silence. Across the room, the newlyweds fed ribs to each other, dripping barbeque sauce on Breena's white dress. Gibbs and Ducky were at a table in the middle of the room, and Abby had dragged McGee onto the dance floor with her.

The people he cared about most were all right here, in this room. Whenever they were all together like this, Tony felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and relief. Somewhere along the way, this team had become his family.

Ziva's arm brushed up against his, and Tony was reminded of his realization about her: that the two of them just might be soul mates. Now that he thought about it, he had considered the possibility when she first brought it up, years ago. But he was still recovering from the disaster with Jeanne, and he couldn't deal with it then.

He could deal with it now.

"Hey, Ziva."

"Yes?"

Tony pressed a kiss to her temple, and his heart skipped one or two beats. "You look beautiful."

He remembered the story of her first fight-he said he liked me- and was half-afraid he was about to receive a punch in the face, as well. After all, he had never said anything like that to her before, and he had certainly never kissed her face. But Ziva just smiled at him and said, "Thank you, Tony."

They faced forward and fell into a comfortable silence, but Tony was ecstatic.

This wedding wasn't a waste of his Saturday, after all.

I am half-asleep as I finish this, and I'm sure in the morning I'll find all kinds of things I hate about it. Oh well. Up it goes! Thanks for reading, and please review!