A/N: I don't own any of this… Also, I'm not very well versed in Navy protocol, so I just made some stuff up. Just bear with me

"Congratulations, Agent David. You are now an official officer in NCIS."

"Thank you, sir," smiled Ziva, shaking Director Vance's hand. "I appreciate it."

"Well show it by doing a good job."

"Yes, sir."

"And one thing," he called out, before Ziva could leave. "I need to explain a few things to you. You are no longer a liaison officer. You are exclusively NCIS now. And, of course, with you're history, in order to become a NCIS special agent, you will have to agree to a certain number of special conditions. One, you answer to the United States government, and only the United States Government. Two, as previously agreed, you, unlike your co-workers, are now a Navy reservist officer. We've directly translated your pervious Mossad officer rank to your new rank of Lieutenant. This means, of course, you are now subject to Military law. Three, when a case involves the Mossad, you are to take yourself off the case. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Good. Welcome home, Ziva."

The lights shone brightly in her face when she stepped out of the Director's office and into the bullpen.

"And there she is," yelled Tony, a large lamp in one hand, and the other one cupped around his mouth, attempting to imitate sports announcers. "Special Agent Ziva David."

"Get that out of my eyes, DiNozzo."

"Congratulations, Ziva," called out McGee, from his desk. "So I'm assuming you passed all the tests?"

"With swimming colors," she smiled.

Tony flashed Ziva a smirk; "Flying colors."

"I do not understand. Colors do not fly. Nor swim."

"Welcome to the world of idioms, Probie."

"Please do not call me that."

The two suddenly turned when a crash sounded through the bullpen. McGee was on the floor, his wheels of his chair rapidly turning. Gibbs was staring down at him.

"No video chatting with girlfriends on the job, McGee."

"Uh, I'm sorry, boss. Won't happen again," replied McGee, almost automatically as he stood up and dusted himself off.

He felt his head lurch forward as Gibbs slapped him across the back of his head.

"Don't apologize." Gibbs turned to the rest of the team. "Get your things ready; we're going to San Francisco."

"San Francisco? Why San Francisco? What's in San Francisco? Why us?"

"Too many questions, DiNozzo."

"Right."

"I'll explain on the plane. McGee, get Abby. DiNozzo, get Duckie. Ziva, everyone's bags are in the lobby. I called a cab. Bring them to the cab."

Tony turned to McGee in the elevator; "Shouldn't I be getting the bags?"

"She's stronger than you, Tony."

"No, she's not."

"Yes, she is."

"I'm stronger than you."

"I'm not Ziva, Tony."

"Gibbs! I do not think I can go eight hours without Caf-Pow."

"They have Caf-Pow in San Francisco, Abs."

"Gah! Fine."

Abby settled down in her seat, pouting. The group had managed (miraculously) to all be seated together. Ziva and Gibbs claimed the aisle seats, while Abby was sandwiched between them. Tony, McGee, and Duckie sat behind them. McGee sighed as Duckie began to explain some sort of myth about things that fly. Tony leaned over the seat in front of him.

"So, why are we going to San Francisco? Don't we have a case to work here? That dead marine isn't getting any younger."

"He is dead," said Ziva, matter-of-factly. "Of course he is not getting younger."

"We've got a dead Navy ROTC cadet in Berkely, DiNozzo."

"Isn't that civilian jurisdiction, boss?"

"Not when she's the younger sister of our marine. Sit down, DiNozzo. I want to sleep."

"Oh…" said Tony, buckling his seat belt. He made a motion to lean forward again.

"I told you to sit down, DiNozzo!"

"Ah, yes, boss."

McGee flashed Tony a toothy smile.

"Yeah, sit down, DiNozzo."

"Shut up, McGeek."

Ziva slinked down in her chair as Tony and McGee argued behind her. She most definitely did not want to hear the two agents bickering for the next eight hours… she silently considered slipping sleeping pills into their drinks. It didn't help that she was sitting beside Abby. She swallowed as she unwaveringly looked forward.

"Hey! Hello? Ziva?"

"Yes?"

She hadn't realized that Abby had been calling her.

"Gibbs just told me NCIS isn't going to pay for our hotel rooms… So there's no way we can afford to stay in our own rooms. I mean, Gibbs can because he like never spends any money, so he's got a lot, but right. I'm talking about, you know, us." Abby had hardly taken one breath. "Anyhow, McGee and Tony will probably stay in the same room, which would be interesting, but we'll talk about that later, and so, um."

Abby had finally slowed down, biting her lip. She had no idea how to phrase the last bit of her ramble, which was really the main point of it.

"You want to know if we should share a room, yes?"

"Um yes. Right. That. Exactly."

"I would be happy to."

Ziva didn't mention that she probably could afford her own room as well. Of course, neither did she mention the strange nervousness fluttering through her chest.

Three hours into the flight, Ziva suddenly felt a weight on her shoulder; Abby's head rested on the crook of Ziva's neck, and slowly, Abby snuggled in closer. Ziva swallowed hard for the second time that flight, gripping the sides of the seats as she struggled to keep her composure.

"It is raining like rats and mice!"

"Cats and dogs, Ziva. Cats and dogs. You still have much to learn, my immigrant friend."

"Oh come on, Tony," smiled Abby. "Rats and mice. I kind of like it. It's got a ring to it. Cats and dogs are getting cliché anyway."

Ziva turned to the police officer who had picked them up; "Does it always rain like this here? California is the 'Golden State,' is it not? That would insinuate… sunlight?"

The detective laughed, "No, you're right. It's the LA folk that get scared shitless of rain. We usually get light rain up here in the north. Although, even for us, this amount of rain is a little unusual."

The car lurched forward as it climbed one of the steep road peaks. Tony leaned forward and stuck his head between the detective and Gibbs (who was riding shotgun).

"Let's see what happens if you go a little faster. Maybe we can pull an old Starsky and Hutch."

"Starsky and Hutch?" McGee stared at Tony.

The detective quickly took his eyes of the road to glance at McGee; "You've never seen it? Classic cop flick. Hilarious."

Tony finally, willingly leaned back into his seat.

"Finally!" he said. "Someone who understands good movies."

"Here we are," announced the detective. "The Marriott. Enjoy your stay, folks. Call me tomorrow morning, and I'll take you down to the station for briefing."

"And your name and number would be…?" Gibbs asked, slightly impatient.

"Uh, Detective Bobby Miller, sir. And this… is my number."

Detective Miller handed over a crumbled piece of paper with number scribbled across it.

"If there's anything I can help you with, just give me a call. The chief isn't too happy to see you guys, but personally, I'd be glad for some help."

"Thank you, detective."

Gibbs turned to see Tony hopelessly struggle with all the bags, who then pouted when Ziva took them from him and quickly took them into the hotel. Abby patted Tony's gut.

"There's a gym inside. Maybe you can work out!"

Abby quickly skipped away before getting caught in the throes of Tony's glare.

Ziva opened the door for Abby as the two entered the room. Ziva busied herself with the bags, well aware of the fact that Abby was staring at the one queen size bed that dominated the room. She continued to look away as she explained.

"I tried to get a room with two beds, but they did not have any left. There is a couch, though, so I can sleep there."

"No! That's okay. It's a queen size bed. We'll fit."

"Actually," Ziva said, "there was one room left with two beds. But Tony and McGee took it. Tony called me probie and then sliced me in line."

"Cut you."

"What?"

"He cut you in line." Abby laughed at Ziva's confused expression.

"Oh. Thank you. I will remember that. Cut not slice…"

Abby laughed again as she threw herself against the bed; "Don't worry about it too much. Idioms are stupid." Abby stuck out her tongue.

Ziva turned away as she searched through her bags for something more comfortable to wear. She hadn't had time to change since the morning they left D.C. That, and she didn't want to touch the bed yet… Terrorists, snipers, and trained assassins she could deal with, but this for some reason proved to be difficult. Ziva grumbled to herself as she pulled out a T-shirt and sweats.

Abby couldn't help but stare at the suddenly 'scantily-clad' Ziva. She felt her throat go immediately dry as she stared at the other woman's backside. By the time Ziva slipped into her change of clothes, Abby was looking into the TV, watching some ridiculous commercial for cereal. She coughed, attempting to get the dryness out of her throat.

"Is there something wrong, Abby?"

"Um, no. Nothing wrong here. Nope. Nuh-uh."

"Okay."

Abby found herself staring at Ziva again… the navy blue NCIS t-shirt clung to her torso well… not to mention that the grey sweats were hanging from hips rather nicely as well. Abby swallowed as she felt her throat go even drier.

"I hope you do not mind," Ziva said. "I am a little bit of a night-sparrow."

Abby couldn't help but giggle; "It's night-owl, Ziva."

"What?" Ziva couldn't stop the expression of incredulousness spread across her face. "But owls are awake in the night anyway! It is redundant!" Ziva leaned back into the bed, slightly annoyed. "I do not like these American idioms."

"Don't worry," Abby said.

She put her head down on Ziva's shoulder again.

"And also," she continued, "I'm a bit of an insomniac myself… Wait, no! This'll be fun! It'll be like a slumber party!"

"A slumber party? What is a slumber party?"

"What? You don't know what a slumber party is?"

"We never did such things in my family."

"It's like… a super-long play-date! Like, one that lasts all night long!"

"A date?" muttered Ziva, to herself.

"Ziva?" Abby said, after a silence.

"Yes?"

"If you can't get to sleep, do you wanna go get something to eat or something? I mean, we've been in that stupid plane for eight hours, and I'm feeling kind of Caf-Pow deprived…"

"No, it is okay," laughed Ziva. "I have never had Caf-Pow before. Maybe I will have some."

"Oh my god. You have got to try some. It's like… a to-do list for life. C'mon."

The two quickly left the room, well, that is, after Ziva laced up her work boots. The girls heard a crash as they passed one of the rooms… and then Tony's voice.

"No! Probie! Look what you did! That's God's way of telling you we should watch my movie, and not your nerdy documentary, got it?"

They laughed.

"They will probably be fighting throughout this whole trip, no?"

"Yes, yes they will…"

"So, Ziva. McGee tells me you're an official NCIS special agent now. Sounds fancy."

"He is right. Actually, I am technically a Navy reserve officer now. They implied that they would like my experience in the Navy."

"That's great!"

"Thank you, Abby," smiled Ziva.

"Have you heard from your father since you…"

"Resigned? No, I have not. It is strange, no?"

"Yeah, it kind of is. But don't worry. Gibbs is like an honorary dad to all of us."

Both mind's wandered to the statement that had just left Abby's mouth; it was true. Abby hadn't seen her biological father in years, Ziva's father was nothing more than a Mossad Director, Tony's father was a little bit of a jackass, and even McGee's father had never made a presence. Not that it truly mattered. Gibbs was, as Abby said, like a father to them all.

"So… what do people do in these… slumber parties anyway?"

"Oh, well there's pillow fights… truth or dare… games… popcorn… and boys. We talk about boys!"

"Boys?" Ziva couldn't help but feel her heart drop a few inches.

It couldn't be helped, of course. Statistically, most girls are straight, after all. Silently, Ziva reprimanded herself for being so stupid, to say the least. She looked to the side, quickly regaining her composure. She had been through enough undercover missions to know how to hide herself.

"Boys," she said again, flashing Abby a cheeky smile.

TBC….

The title song is by Ra Ra Riot.