First of all, I would just like to thank all the people who have shown appreciation for this story. Both my friend and I are completely overwhelmed.

Second of all, here's another update...in just one day!!! Yay!

Third of all, enjoy and happy reading!

Most of all...all positive comments and constructive criticism are always welcome. :)

What are you doing? Ziva thought, cursing herself. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the cool metal of the elevator. Her conversation with Jenny had turned unexpectedly bitter. Taking deep, steadying breaths, she called on her Mossad training to slow her heart rate. The elevator dinged cheerfully, opening its main doors to the main floor. Needing a bit longer she pressed the button for the squadroom, planning to ride the elevator down and back up. She had her eyes closed when the elevator began slowing. The doors opened and without looking, she instantly hit the 'door close' button, followed by the main floor. The sound of the doors reopening snapped her eyes open. Even before he stepped on, Ziva knew who it was. There was no way that she could forget that scent, ever so masculine and seductive, ever so comforting and familiar, which always brought him to mind. It was him....it was Tony.

Suddenly, the floor as well as the ceiling became VERY interesting. Tony stepped on hesitantly, Ziva's lack of eye contact not being missed. However, as much as he was hurt, he wouldn't allow Ziva to see it. He couldn't. So instead he made a joke. It had become his cover, his security....which had worked surprisingly well. He just hoped it would be the same for Ziva. She had an innate ability to see right through him.

"You, uh, you seen a good, um, movie lately?" His question came out in a stammer as he cursed himself for his lack of composure. Twice today, Ziva had already unnerved him and that bothered him...immensely. Dinozzo men were not supposed to be so easily flustered.

Ziva's head shot up at his unexpected question. He really hadn't changed at all.

Keeping her face as emotionless as Mossad could make it, Ziva ignored the sudden thundering of her pulse and met his eyes."No," Ziva said as calmly as she could manage. "I have always found books more fascinating."

Tony fought to keep from groaning. Of course she hasn't seen any movies, he berated himself. It's ZIVA. My little ninja never understood a good movie! His heart gave a particularly painful beat as he remembered. Of course, she's not MY ninja anymore. "Right," he said brilliantly. "Well. Read anything I would know?"

Does he not understand? Ziva thought furiously. I don't want to talk to him; I don't even want to see him! She wondere if he words would sound anymore convincing out loud than they did in her head. Somehow, she didn't think so. Realizing Tony was still waiting for an answer she responded in a chipped tone, "I I doubt it." Pride surged through Ziva. Her voice hadn't shaken; she had met his eyes and spoken as coolly and confidently. Continuing, she even smiled slightly as she added, "I do not think we would read same—"she paused, feeling her face flush. Damn language, she thought. What is that word? "Species. I do not think that we read the same species." Satisfied, she lifted her chin...and dropped it as Tony sniggered.

"Books aren't animals, Zee-vah," he managed between snickers. "You're thinking genre. We don't read the same genre."

"Why would you call a book the same name as that lamp –ghost?"

Tony sighed at her frustrated confusion. Could she look any more adorable? he asked himself. "That, Zee-vah, is a genie." If you find one, let me know. I could use the wishes. I'd get rich, get a car, and...Unaware of Ziva's intense gaze on him that noticed the twinge of sadness in his eyes, he thought, And I'd trade it all for you.

The elevator dinged and they both leapt for the door, crashing together in a mishmash of limbs.