He is so wrapped up in the conversation that he is having with a four year old that he doesn't hear footsteps approaching. He fails to hear the sound of socked feet smacking against the cold concrete floor. He only becomes aware of someone else's presence when Reed shifts eye contact. Sarah clears her throat. Without a single word Reed hops off the couch, and races towards his room. DiNozzo spins around to face her.

"It's not what it looks like," he insists, "I wasn't colluding with the enemy."

"I didn't say that you were."

"Right," he nods rubbing the back of his neck.

"Tell me agent DiNozzo, is there something that you want to tell me?"

He shrugs, "What would make you think that?"

"My son uttering the words, 'Have you told her?', may have tipped me off," she smiles coyly.

"How much did you hear?"

"Some famous last words," she responds coyly.

"You only caught the end of the conversation,".

"I caught enough," she argues.

"You caught his end of the conversation," he realizes.

"Is there something that you would like to tell me?"

"Maybe," he shrugs.

"Do you know how long Harm and I worked together before we finally got around to admitting how we really felt about each other?"

"I don't know."

"Nine years. It was nine years too long."

"He probably didn't knock you up on the first night you were together, either," he points out.

"Usually these type of indiscretions occur after a night of heavy drinking," she narrates.

"So what's your excuse?" He arches an eyebrow.

"I could ask you the same."

"Maybe you reminded me of someone I used to know."

"I guess I could say the same," she admits.

"You're not her."

"No, I'm not."

"You're different in so many ways."

"So are you."

"General, what do you want me to say?"

"The truth would be nice."

He nods in agreement, "If we're being honest I'll tell you that usually my first thought about a woman is how I can get her into bed. I am…"

She cuts him off, supplying an end to his statement, "Shameless?"

"Yes."

"At least you're honest."

"Let me finish," he implores.

"Okay," she agrees.

"I saw you sitting there, and I told myself that you were the type of woman that I should make my wife."

"Really?" She shoots him a questioning look.

"Yes."

"So you thought to yourself, there is an alcoholic, I bet she would make a good wife?"

"No."

"Why did you think that?"

"If it were rational I probably wouldn't have thought it. I have never, in my entire life claimed to be rational."

"How do I know that all of this wasn't a set up?"

"What kind of a set up?"

"Maybe you're just a distraction to keep me from catching a terrorist."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Maybe you planned to get me pregnant all along. You thought that you could convince me to trust you, and then you could carry out your plan."

"You are seriously twisted."

"I'm not the only one," she reminds him.

"I don't know how this is going to work out. I am a workaholic. I know absolutely nothing about raising children. I don't have the vaguest idea of how to be a husband, or a father. Yet, when I think about how the future is going to look, you're there."

"You did knock me up," she states the obvious.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"How did you mean it?"

"I can't explain it. Other than the time we have spent cooped up in this bunker, I barely know you. I'm sorry, I'm just talking in circles."

"From what I heard you aren't the mushy type."

"I'm not."

"What do you see in me?"

He takes a seat on the couch. She follows suit. He wears a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, and a white t-shirt. She studies his outfit in silence. His glance shifts to the shirt he's wearing.

"These were his clothes?"

She nods subtly, "I just couldn't bring myself to get rid of them."

"I understand."

"I'm serious though, what could you possibly see in me? I have been married twice. Neither marriage worked out."

"I didn't know that you were married before Harm."

"I was very young, and incredibly naïve. We were estranged for nearly a decade. Apparently things don't end well for anyone who marries me."

"I know you're a widow."

"Technically I've been widowed twice. My first husband was murdered before I filed divorce papers."

"So what?"

"Men do not last very long around me. One of my ex-boyfriend's was murdered shortly after we parted ways."

"Did you kill him?'

"I have been accused of murdering more than one of my former love interests."

"Were you guilty?"

"No."

"Then why would it matter to me?"

"Do you think that your fate will be any different?"

"Mac, everyone dies."

"I won't go through that again," she argues.

"What is it that you see in me? Obviously you see something in me. If you didn't you would have kicked me out at the first rest stop, and kept on trucking. I've never been married, and I have never been able to make any sort of a long term relationship work."

She grins, "I didn't like you at first."

"We conceived a set of twins on your living room floor the first night that I met you."

"I never said that was because I liked you."

"So what is it that you like about me?"

"The fact that you want to take my boys sledding."

His face turns into a question mark, "Excuse me?"

"You'll understand what I mean soon enough."