Some women from Quinn's office invited her to have lunch along with other ladies from around NARA. Quinn sat down at the table of seven other females and opened her lunch.

"I heard he got fired because he went off the deep end," one lady said in a whispery, gossipy tone of voice. "He lost his badge and gun."

Another lady shook her head. "And all that time at NCIS…just gone."

Quinn's ear pricked at NCIS.

"They said he was one of the best agents in a long time. I know the sister of Bre Palmer…Jimmy Palmer's wife," the first lady said.

"I bowl in the same league as Abby…the lab girl there…and heard her say Tony was just devastated," another girl added.

"Hmmm…" One of Quinn's office mates replied. "I was told he was quite the lady's man back in the day."

Later, Quinn cornered her office mate who joined in the conversation at lunch. "Madeline, who were the other girls talking about at lunch? A Tony?"

"DiNozzo…the new security chief here. Have you had the pleasure of meeting him?" Madeline asked, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn shrugged. "Here and there."

"All I know is he used to be a cop and then worked at NCIS, dated a lot of women, something happened and he either quit or got fired…I'm not for sure which. I had actually forgotten about it until he showed up here." Madeline continued, "The other security guys are pretty cheesed off since they got picked over, and NARA hired from outside to replace the chief. But, Tony has way more experience. Not to mention he's pretty easy on the eyes."

Quinn nodded, taking all this in. As far as she could tell, he had never tried hitting on her or anything inappropriate. He had been friendly and easy to talk to. Maybe she'd ask him the next time she saw him.

The next time she saw him turned out to be weeks later. A bit of snow was on the ground, holiday decorations were everywhere, and the cold of winter had settled in. Over Thanksgiving, she had driven to her home in Lima, Ohio, to see her sister and old friends there. Quinn was becoming more social and going out with workplace friends but basically did all her shopping in the Abbott District near her condo. She had been thinking about Tony quite a bit but had gone on a couple dates with friends of friends. Those guys were nothing like Tony…more her age and definitely less mature. She missed his green eyes piercing into her soul, it seemed, and his beautiful voice. And, the feel of his hands on her arms…it was almost as if he had hugged her the day she got lost. His grip was strong, yet tender.

As for Tony, he couldn't get the blonde young woman out of his mind. In a way, he was thankful for the night-shift work but, in a way, despised it. Before he realized it, it was Thanksgiving. His old NCIS friends invited him to Thanksgiving dinner at Gibbs' place, and he dredged up the courage to go. That dinner was more helpful than he realized. He stayed late, talking to Gibbs in his basement about how it felt to maybe, possibly, enjoy someone else's company again. Gibbs understood; he had been there.

In mid December, Tony was shopping in the Abbott District, picking up small gifts for the NCIS crew and his Secret Santa gift at NARA. There were several unique shops around Quinn's building, so Tony walked there in a light snowfall. The sidewalks were crowded with shoppers…'tis the season. He passed a storefront, full of jewelry, shining in the Christmas lights. A customer inside moved, and he saw Quinn, peering into a jewelry case. Her blonde hair poked out beneath a knit beanie with a blue pom-pom on top. She was bundled in a puffy coat, wearing slim black leggings and black boots. He paused, debating whether to wait on her to come out so he could at least say hello. He stood at the corner of the window, pretending to look at the necklaces and watches, until she made her way out. He stepped into the shadows, losing his nerve to say hello. She stopped, checked her watch.

She turned away from him and headed in the opposite direction. He entered the shop to see what had caught her interest.

The emerald green velvet dress felt too luxurious to wear. It was form fitting, a column dress, down to her ankles with a slit up to her mid thigh with a line of crystals trailing from the bodice to the hem. She was astounded when she found it at a vintage dress shop and only bought it because of the nude half-bodice covered in crystals and the open back. The dress itself was relatively simple from the waist down, but the bodice was held up with one green velvet strap over her left shoulder and then a crystal-covered nude overlay that resulted in a bare right shoulder. Most of her back was bare, as well. Her right breast appeared to be only covered by the crystals. The NARA holiday fundraising gala was the first real D.C. event she was attending, black tie only; she didn't want to stand out, but she didn't want to be a wallflower, either. The women at the office had given her ideas of how dressed up to be. She splurged on matching emerald green velvet heels and wore crystal accessories, earrings, a bracelet, and a headband. She straightened her hair into a sleek style and did more of an evening look with her makeup. She notified the front desk of her building to call her a cab, and she put a white faux fur wrap about her shoulders, grabbed her crystal-studded evening bag, and left for the party.

She arrived at the gala, held at Constitution Hall in a gallery room the size of half of a football field. A massive Christmas tree commanded one corner of the room with poinsettias and holiday decorations all around. The room was lit by Christmas lights and battery-operated candles. She checked her wrap, examined the silent auction items, and mingled around the room until she found her table placement. She gazed around the room again. She felt like she was in an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, like The Great Gatsby, everyone was dressed to the nines. Ladies in silk and satin, and men in rented tuxedos, vests, and bowties. She was a sucker for a man in a well-fitted black tux. She recognized NARA administration, the women she worked with, and several others…but no Anthony DiNozzo. To say she was disappointed was putting it mildly. Dinner was served, along with sporadic silent auction announcements and a live instrumental band playing quietly in the background.

From across the room, hidden in a shadowy corner, Tony leaned against a door jamb and inspected the crowd. He had arrived fashionably late to assess the situation. He eyed Quinn sitting at a table with her co-workers, sharing what appeared to be a lovely meal. He wasn't interested in eating…he was interested in her.

The dinnerware was cleared, and silent auction winners were announced. Dancing commenced. That was Tony's cue…he stood up straight, adjusted his suit jacket and tie and hair, checked his breath…and made his way to Quinn's table.

Quinn turned her chair just a bit to watch the dancers. It made her think of her high school days and dancing in Glee Club. Those boys could wear a tux, she thought and smiled. Her co-worker said something behind her, and she looked back over her shoulder to reply. When she turned around to watch the dancers, a presence stood in front of her, his hand extended to her.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice deep and as soft as her velvet dress. When he approached her, the slit of her gown exposed her crossed legs to her mid thigh. His jaw clenched, and his pulse quickened.

He took her breath away, and, for a moment, she couldn't speak. Without a word, she put her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. He glanced over his shoulder at her with a wink and a smile.

On the dance floor, they assumed the position, her hand on his shoulder and his hand at her back, and began moving slowly with the flow of the other dancers to the "Christmas Waltz." She looked up into his sparkling green eyes. She could feel his fingertips on her bare back, and goosebumps popped up on her arms.

"I-I've missed seeing you, Anthony," she whispered at last. "I've just missed you."

When he asked her to dance, those were the only words he could manage to verbalize and only because he had been playing them over and over again in his mind. When he was actually in front of her, he too was breathless. Now, on the dance floor and in the routine of a basic waltz, his heart rate had slowed back down to somewhat normal.

"And I, you," he replied. And then he blurted out, but as smoothly as possible, "You're stunning."

Her smile beamed. "You clean up very nicely," was all she could think to reply. She had noticed his black tuxedo was well fitted and his bowtie perfectly knotted and, oddly enough, emerald green. He was clean shaven with his hair parted above his left eye and slicked back. He reminded her of an old-time movie star.

"Silver Bells" began playing, and they continued dancing.

"Anthony, I'd like to get to know you better," she said finally. "I'd like for you to get to know me better…that is, if you want to."

He hadn't expected that. Ever so slightly, he pulled her closer to him, his fingertips on her back sliding slowly downward. Quinn purred quietly, but he heard it, he felt it.

"I agree…I hope you'll see me again," he mustered…he was lightheaded from holding her so closely to him.

She could feel the warmth of his body so close to hers. She gazed up into his eyes, watched him clench his jaw. She took a deep breath; her body was nearly pressed against his. She was so close to him that her cheek was almost touching his. She inhaled his aftershave and let him lead her around the dance floor. No other boy - man - had held her so intimately.

He needed to pull it together. He had not held a woman this closely since the day he left Ziva in Israel. After he heard Quinn moan at his touch and saw the goosebumps on her arm, he knew he was losing the battle, he was falling for her. Dancing her around the floor, amidst the Christmas lights and music, he was heady with emotion. She had stared him down, and he had clenched his teeth together to keep from kissing her squarely on the mouth. She had stepped ever so slightly closer to him…their bodies nearly touching. He could feel her breath on his neck, then on his ear, and he had to pull back a bit…another second of those chills and his mouth would be on hers. He wanted their first kiss to be memorable and private, not in front of their co-workers.

The song ended, and he led her off the dance floor and out into a corridor. A cool breeze was what he needed…anything to hamper what he was feeling.

"I-I just needed some air," he said to her, leaning against a wall. She leaned up against the wall next to him.

"Me too," she said quietly. Eventually, though, she reached for his hand, and he entwined his fingers with hers.

After a couple more dances and hearing the total funds raised, Tony offered to give Quinn a ride home. She accepted.

The valet pulled his gunmetal gray Dodge Charger to the front of the convention center where he and Quinn waited in the flurries. He opened the passenger's door for her and then headed in the general direction of the Abbott District.

"Do you mind if we make a slight detour?" he asked her with a mischievous smile.

"Not at all, Anthony…" she said, smiling back.

Traffic was light, and he drove quickly to NARA, parking in front of the building with his flashers on. He hopped out and walked to her side of the car, opening her door.

He offered her his hand, and she stepped outside with him. He led her to the front steps.

"Where it all began," he said, sweeping his arm toward the building. "I wanted this to be special."

Holding both her hands, he stepped close to her and leaned in, gently and cautiously kissing her. She responded, kissing him back. She let go of his hands and cupped his face, bringing him in closer. Even in her heels, she was on her tiptoes to meet his urgent kiss. His hands were at her waist, finally holding her closely against his body.

And then…he pulled back, his breath white steam in the cold air, his hands holding her upper arms. Jaw clenching, he uttered, "Quinn…I-I want to move slow with this."

She looked up at him. Her pupils were dilated; her mouth formed an "o." She slowed her breathing and then said a simple okay.

"You're freezing…let's get back in the car," he said, ushering her back to the passenger's door.

He turned up the heat once he got behind the wheel.

"I didn't want all of NARA's eyes on us or your doormen…I wanted it to just be us."

She nodded. "I understand."

He put the car in gear and began driving. He reached for her hand as they drove toward her condo. Once there, he pulled to the curb and again helped her out. He walked her to the doors of her building and faced her, his hands holding her elbows.

"Thank you for the dances tonight, Quinn. Officially, are you free New Year's Eve?" he asked her.

Her heart swelled. "Anthony, I thought you'd never ask."

He pecked her shyly on the cheek, gazed into her eyes, then turned to leave.

She got to her condo as quickly as possible to write about their evening in her journal to capture the memory. She quickly but carefully removed her gown and accessories, slipped into a nightshirt, and hopped onto her bed with her journal. In the ladies room at the gala, Quinn had jotted her phone number on a cocktail napkin and slyly dropped it in his jacket pocket before leaving the party. She hoped he would find it and call or text her soon.

She had turned to jello when he finally kissed her. Her senses were heightened due to the cold, standing on the steps at NARA. She could understand how this guy could be called a "lady's man," wearing his tuxedo like a boss, his confidence, his charm. The only word she could summon to describe him was debonair. She emailed her sister about him, wishing she had snapped a few pictures from the day in the park. New Year's Eve couldn't get there fast enough.

When Tony arrived at his apartment, he stripped out of the tux, checking the pockets before hanging it carefully in his closet. He found the cocktail napkin and brought it with him to his living room. He sat on his couch in a tshirt and his boxer briefs with the TV turned to sports but not watching it. He opened a bottle of beer and recalled the evening's events. He held the napkin with her number in his hand, even brought it to his nose to catch her scent.

He could still taste her lip gloss on his lips, feel her fingers in his hair, urging him closer to her. Even with her wrap and his overcoat, he could feel her hard nipples against his chest. At the gala, her breath against his ear had nearly done him in. Other women he had seen in the past most likely would've asked if that was a gun in his pocket or was he just happy to see them, but Quinn hadn't seemed to notice, or, if she had, she was too ladylike to joke about it.

He picked up his phone and added her number to his contacts. He dialed all but the last number, on the fence about whether to call her. He hit the final number and listened to it ring.

Quinn was shocked to hear her phone ringing. The number showed up but no name. She answered after the third ring.

"Hello?"

"I had a great time tonight, Quinn," he said. His nervousness shocked him.

She smiled at the sound of his voice. "Me too, Anthony."

He chuckled a bit. "I guess you know I found your number…"

She laughed, too.

"I just really wanted to hear your voice again tonight…"

"Me too, Anthony," she replied. She could hear him smile across the cell signal.

"Talk to you soon…good night."

She sat on her bed with butterflies in her stomach, then continued writing in her journal.