Disclaimer: Yep, you know the drill.

An: I really hope you are enjoying it up until now. But the burning question is 'What will happen next?' Well instead of reading this why don't you get on and read the next chapter? PS; My sister says hi to you all. PPS; Well done to all those Olympians who took part in the games, especially Mr. Phelps. Eight gold's!!

While Gibbs waited for the coffee and Caff-Pow Abby sat at a table, untangled her MP-3 and started listening to the song she'd had on early. Gibbs wasn't the only one to give her a weird look as she hummed along. She took an earpiece out when he sat down. "What is that?"

"What the song?" He nodded "Oh, it's from the Eurovision song contest. Why?"

"The what?"

"The Eurovision song contest is basically the country's of Europe getting together to see who can sing the best. This is Finland's entry Missa Miehet Ratsastaa, by Sebastien Tellier."

"Hmm." Gibbs smiled and glanced at his watch.

"Time we got back. Come on." They left, not noticing the second floor gossiper, who'd just phoned someone, someone very interested in what he had to say.

The cell rang, for a moment it seemed no one would answer it, but then a hand reached over the side of the partition, grabbed it and disappeared back over, its owner baring it away to the photocopier, which was spewing out copies of the paper for the past two weeks.

"DiNozzo."

"Hi, it's Jack. I don't if this would interest you, but your boss and Abby have just left together, and as far as I can tell they came together as well."

"Brilliant, just what I needed! Thanks. And remember, keep your gob shut about this, ok?"

"Yeah, I know; gob shut, eye's 'n' ear's open."

"Good. See ya!" Tony turned around to see what was taking the photocopier so long, and found Ziva lent against it. He tried to ignore her and retrieve the copies but she sidestepped, blocking his way.

"What was that about?"

"A private matter. Which in cause you don't get the hint means nothing for you. Now shift." She just gave him a quizzical look and carried on towards the stairs and her way to MTAC. It seemed to Tony that everyone had secrets these days. Perhaps he should start a folder on her as well, hey, why not start on McGee, just for good measure?

Talking of folders, he really ought to get back to work, or risk the wrath of Gibbs.

She couldn't sit still, she wanted to race up to the roof and scream as loud as she could. It looked as if she had finally gotten her heart's desire; Special-Agent Jethro Gibbs. And he was all hers. She'd make sure of that.

He'd hardly sat down before his phone rang.

"Gibbs."

"Yes, I guessed seeing as I phoned you."

"What can I do for you Director?"

"Why don't come up to MTAC and explain Ms. Scuito's behaviour?" She didn't feel that calling her Abby was entirely appropriate; this was a government agency, not a nightclub.

"Sure, give me a minute to detach DiNozzo from me conversations and I'll be right up." The phones went dead at both ends.

"Tony, what do I do when you evesdrop?"

"Erm, you generally slap the evesdropper round the head. Why?"

"Because I trying to see if the message is getting through to you. Obviously not, eh?" Tony tensed waiting for the head slap, which never came.

MTAC was dark when Gibbs entered, not that it was ever anywhere near light, and there was a man on the screen, talking in very fast in Jewish. Taking a seat next to Jen he saw that the person talking to the man was none other than Ziva.

"Who's that?" The question was asked in a stage whisper.

"That is Deputy-Director David, he works for Mossad."

"David?" The name meant something he was sure, but the reason had slipped his mind at that moment in time.

"Yes, Ziva's father. He has very kindly had someone watch the airports in Israel, in case a friend of the FBI's goes walk about out there. And I have no clue why I told you that."

"I always was good Jen. Anyway what did you want?" Ziva and her father now seemed to have started arguing instead of discussing matters.

"One it's Director. And two: what was that with Ms. Scuito? Have you given up on rule 12?"

"No, not entirely. But she can be a bit sharp sometimes. You'll get used to her. Though a free piece of advice for you; don't piss her off, you'll soon find that if she stops work in a form of protest, then the whole of the office will join her. That includes the entire of my team, American or not. Otherwise I don't see any problems. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Ziva had watched most of the exchange, after cutting her father off about, for some unknown reason, her shoes. She decided to ask about this Scuito person and what this rule was.

The air outside the stuffy MTAC was welcome as Gibbs and then Ziva left, the latter hoping to get away without being collared by the earlier. It didn't work.

"Deputy-Director, eh? Bet he was trilled that his daughter had chosen, perhaps one of the most dangerous jobs possible. Well based on how many of that profession are murdered each year."

"He was far from thrilled. He tried to get me to see sense, but I just hung in and that made him see that I wasn't going anywhere." Gibbs laughed at her mistake, and she just grew annoyed at him, not understanding her error.

"What?"

"You said that you 'hung in', it's actually 'hung on'."

"Oh."