After my day to rest, I felt more confident to go back to NCIS. Cynthia emailed me that I'd been the talk in the office all day. Everyone knew how I saved Ziva with just my nose. Apparently Tony was going to have quite the competition between the other agents in the building. At least everyone knew I was more than capable not only to handle myself as the Directors secretary but as a person.

Tony came by last night to check up on me, probably for the Director. He gave me flowers with a few cards signed by multiple agents throughout the building; all thanking me for protecting one of their own. Ziva sent a personal card thanking me for saving her life. As soon as the doctors told her she was free, she was so excited.

As I got ready for my first day, I couldn't help but smile at how Tony stayed for awhile just to talk. We had leftovers and watched football. He even helped unpack a box. I made sure he wouldn't find the case files. If he didn't remember me, why did it matter? And if he did remember, why hadn't be said anything? It was a time I'd rather put behind me and bringing it up wasn't the way to do it.

I checked myself one last time. The black pencil skirt complimented my legs as I wanted. The pale blue blouse made me feel comfortable. Everything accentuated my best features, which would drive Tony nuts. I giggled and put on a quick layer of lipstick.

I heard a knock at my door.

"Who the hell could that be?" I muttered.

I quickly went to the door. I opened it and blushed. "Hi Tony."

He ran his tongue over his lips. "What are you all dressed up for?"

"First impression always make a lasting impression."

His eyes roamed over me again. "That it does."

I turned around and went to my hall closet. "I was just about to head out. What are you doing here?"

"I thought we could car pool." He closed the door.

"Don't you think that's inappropriate?"

"Two co-workers going to work together. I don't see anything wrong with that." His eyes met mine. Playful again.

"I didn't realize you were even awake this early."

"Gibbs is strict."

"You seem like the type to always be late."

"Not always."

I grabbed a coat.

"Oh not that one." He stood beside me and looked in my closet. "No. No. You need this one." He pulled out a tan trench coat.

I took it from him. "How would you know that?"

"The black makes you look too intimidating. Being the Directors secretary, you need to be inviting."

I sighed. "I guess you're right." I switched coats and grabbed my purse.

He dangled his keys. "I'll drive."

I smiled. "What's it going to cost me?"

"A real date?"

"Hm. We'll see."

Cynthia showed me the ropes all day long. How to set up appointments, how to delegate which calls were more important than others, who to patch people to, etc. It didn't take as long as I expected. She warned me that Gibbs was also one to barge in whenever he pleased.

Ziva took me on a quick tour of the building. MTAC and the Directors office would be my frequent spots but they thought it might be beneficial for me to know where the forensics lab and autopsy lab were, ever in case the Director sent me there for information.

It was a hectic day but good.

I headed downstairs with Cynthia.

"I can't believe just how different each agency runs," I carried the number things the Director and Cynthia had given me.

Cynthia giggled. "I've never seen you this flustered. At least not since senior year."

"God. Don't remind me."

She laughed and had to breathe hard. She grasped the railing. "Oh boy."

"Cynthia?"

"Just a minute." She took in some deep breaths.

"What's wrong?"

She stood up. "Just a Braxton kick."

"Braxton kick?"

"It gets you ready for actual labor."

"Sounds pleasant."

"Oh you know it." She had beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Are you sure that's all?"

"I just started getting them. Pretty normal from what my doctor told me. I'm still getting used to this last trimester."

I stared at her but everything else about her seemed fine. "If you say so."

We walked down and saw agent Gibbs and his team working on something. There was a picture of a young girl on the screen.

I grabbed Cynthia's arm. "It can't be."

Cynthia looked. "Oh my god."

We walked over to the screen.

"Can we help you ladies?" Gibbs asked.

"Do you know who that woman is?" Cynthia asked.

"Not yet."

"It's Taylor. Taylor Blaine." I could hardly breathe. The picture of her lifeless body in the middle of her living room. Blood soaking her hair. A gash on her head.

"And how do you know her?" Gibbs asked me.

"We were all roommates. Freshman year," Cynthia said. "Oh my God."