So...after much thought and some prodding from reviewers...I've decided to continue this story for a little while. I've got some ideas. I'm telling ya, while I was out last night I had a serious brainwave for this story.

This chapter is kinda boring, but bear with me here. Just more speculation on Tony's thoughts...The first chapter I'm now considering as more of a prologue to the rest of the story.

We had come directly to the office from the airport, and my car was still resting comfortably in its space at my apartment complex. So, that night Ziva drove me home. I didn't know how that happened; usually I did everything possible to make sure I was never in that situation. Maybe I was drunk. Maybe this new concept I had of Ziva had driven my common sense and will to live completely out of my head.

But the drive wasn't as life threatening as it usually was.

Actually, I was surprised when she didn't even break a single traffic law.

We didn't speak on the way there, and Ziva didn't seem to need directions. Every time I opened my mouth to tell her where to turn, she was already in the process of reading my mind. I tried to talk about something else, but her posture and silence signaled to me that now was not the time to start any sort of conversation. So I just sat back against the seat and relaxed my muscles, stiff from traveling, relief and happiness at being home and back on dry land washing over me. It had been a rough day; after everything that had happened it was hard to believe I had been in the Banana Moon talking to Hector only this morning.

She pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex, her red Mini Cooper coming to a rest right next to my beloved Mustang. I almost cried like a baby when I saw it. Driving isn't really a privilege you miss until it's gone.

"Thanks," I said quietly, making no move to open the door or get out of the car.

"You are welcome."

More silence. It was aggravating, not talking. The awkward silence that it created was hard to bear...the only way to get out of it would be to get out of the car, to leave, and I didn't want to do that just yet. So I just sat there and breathed heavily, inhaling the wonderful scent of her perfume, waiting for her to speak.

"I missed you, Tony," she said quietly, after what seemed like hours.

"I missed you too, Ziva," I replied, turning to look at her seriously now. I wanted her to understand that this wasn't just one of those automatic responses people say, that I really meant this.

I wanted her to see through me, read my mind, to know how I felt and what I was thinking right now. I wouldn't be able to get the words out, but I wanted her to know. I wanted her to realize that after all this time, I had finally gotten past my idiocy and pigheadedness, that I, Anthony DiNozzo, was officially a changed man. It was horrible that separation was what it took to get that message through my head.

"Why does distance make us wise?"

"I guess you should be getting up to your apartment," she murmured. "It is late, and it would not be good for you to be late on your first day back."

She was right, of course. She was always right.

"Okay. See you tomorrow," I said, and my hand slowly curled around the door handle. "Listen, Ziva, thanks―"

"It is no problem. I was happy to do it."

"That wasn't what I was going to say."

She was staring straight ahead, over the steering wheel, avoiding my eyes. With a quick flash her arm darted downward and I heard a pop as the trunk was opened.

"Don't forget your stuff," she said softly, still staring. "See you tomorrow."

I sighed. I wasn't going to get any further with anything tonight. I grabbed my bags out of the back and swung them over my shoulder. As soon as I was clear, Ziva began backing out, a little too fast to be entirely safe. She didn't want me to come back to the window and talk to her.

Something was up with her, I decided as I let myself into my apartment, and I was determined to find out. I threw my stuff into a corner, not feeling up to unpacking tonight. Instead I went straight for the shower, peeling off layers of clothing as I went. It had been months since I'd had any decent hot water…and I definitely missed it.

I let the water pound into me for at least half an hour, letting the steamy water cover my skin, calming the soreness of my tense muscles. I longed for it to take away this emotional turmoil, to ease the pain of the torment and the agony I was feeling.

I thought about Ziva as I got out and toweled myself dry. I thought about her beautiful eyes, I thought about her soft skin. I thought about her temper, and the way her eyes flashed when I corrected one of her mixed up idioms or managed to get out a really clever jab when Gibbs was out of earshot.

I thought about her hair, and the way it seemed to shine no matter how she was wearing it that day.

I thought about how much I was in love with her, and what her reaction would be if I finally managed to get up the courage to actually admit my true feelings.

Ha. Like that was ever going to happen.

Pulling on a pair of old pajamas bottoms that were still lying on the floor from the last time I was home, I sighed and sat onto my couch, sinking deep into the cushions and leaning back. I ran my fingers through my wet hair and exhaled deeply. This was so aggravating. It was worse than the movies; though at least in those you had writers that would have your words written for you. I had no idea what I was going to do about this particular problem.

Not for the first time, I wished I had someone to go to for advice on this sort of thing. Normally, I would have gone to Gibbs in a heartbeat, but seeing as I needed advice on breaking one of his own rules, I decided that it wouldn't be such a good idea. My next option, one I'd used several times before, would be to go to Director Shepard―Jenny―but seeing as she was dead now because of my asinine, probie-like mistakes in L.A. four months ago, that wasn't a feasible option either.

So who else could I turn to? Obviously McGee was out of the question; I couldn't trust the younger agent with a covert operation like this when he had demonstrated several times before his inability to keep secrets, especially my secrets, quiet around Ziva.

Abby? Maybe. A woman's opinion on this sort of thing would be very valuable. She could be a great help…or a great hindrance: I could visualize her bugging me about this new development every time she and I were alone.

And maybe even when we weren't alone. Gibbs had an uncanny ability to pop up in the scientist's lab without warning. It was risky.

So that left Ducky. And the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of going to the wise, older man for advice like this. He knew everything, because he's seen everything. I wanted to slap myself upside the head for not thinking about him first. Now I just needed to catch the ME when Palmer the assistant was off doing an errand or something.

I liked this plan. It was a good plan…the writers in my head for the screenplay of my life got some serious inspiration. I might even give them an Oscar. All that was left now was to actually get up enough courage to put this plan into motion. As I thought some more about it, I decided that there was an eighty percent chance I would freak out and not say anything at all; I felt like an idiotic, lovestruck teenager who just realized he was crushing on his best friend.

Oh God…how cliché is that? All those movies are seriously fucking with your reality, DiNozzo…

With a groan of frustration, I collapsed over onto the couch, burying my face in the pillows. This was so aggravating…how could I even go to work tomorrow, look her in the eye, without her knowing that something was up, without completely giving myself away?

I fell asleep on my couch, these thoughts whirling and tossing within my head. I woke to the sound of my phone ringing insistently from on top of my dresser in my bedroom. I sat bolt upright, startled. I was not used to waking up in my own apartment after all those months at sea, let alone spread out on my couch in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms. I rubbed my eyes, then quickly went into the other room to grab my phone.

It was McGee.

"What?" I asked, answering the infernal thing.

"Someone's testy this morning," the younger agent replied.

"Yeah, because it's freaking five in the morning, McAlarm Clock."

"Gibbs got a call. Double homicide in Georgetown."

I groaned. "Figures…first day back and I'm already going to be pulling an all-nighter."

"How do you know it's going to be an all-nighter?"

"I've been at this stuff longer than you have, Probie. I can just tell these things."

"I'm sure you can. Boss wants us at the Yard in thirty minutes."

I groaned and hung up the phone with a snap, going to my closet and searching for a clean shirt with the least amount of wrinkles. I really had to do laundry...

I made it to the office only a minute late, though I was still the last to arrive.

"Where the hell have you been, DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded as I walked in.

"I'm only a minu―"

I was cut off by a hard slap upside the head.

"Just like old times…" I said wryly.

"McGee, gas the truck," Gibbs said gruffly, tossing Probie the keys. "DiNozzo. David. Take the car and meet us at the Baker's house."

"Where's that?"

Gibbs pulled a sticky note off the pad on his desk and slapped it on my forehead like I was in grade school. I could see an address written on it in Gibbs' blocky capital letters.

"Thanks Boss."

Ziva laughed, and it was that sound that finally alerted me to her presence. I turned around, the sticky note still on my forehead. "What is so funny, Dah-veed?" I asked, accenting the syllables because I knew it annoyed her.

"You are still the same old Tony," she said, something strange in her eyes as she said it.

"Still sexy, funny, and loveable, you mean."

She walked around her desk as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and ripped the sticky note off of my face.

"You forgot 'arrogant'," she murmured as she walked past me. "Let's go, Tony."

I followed her towards the elevator.

The random quote in the middle "Why does distance make us wise?" is from the musical RENT...I was listening to the soundtrack while writing this. I don't know why i put it in there...it just seemed to fit for some reason.