A/N: Hello my fabulous readers! Thanks for the amazing feedback lately—it's been, well, fabulous!

You won't get any clarity on the previous chapter for a little while, so get comfy. Today's chapter will bring another little mystery.

I updated my profile, inspired by Bravo My Lady Grace and dizzy – in – the izzy's great profiles. Mine can't compare, but it's not excessively long and the story of how I watched NCIS film and got to hang with the cast & crew is up, so if you have some time on your hands, you're welcome to take a look.

Confession: my birthday is next month and I'm terrified that I'll be forgotten. At my old church, my small group threw little surprises for everyone in our group on their birthdays, but I left that church before they ever got to give me a surprise. It sucks. I just wanted that one day to be special, you know, and I never got it. Now I'm at a new church and the girls in my group haven't exactly warmed up to me yet, but they've given the other girls little gifts on their birthdays this year, and I'm scared they'll forget. Part of me hopes my old and new groups will miraculously remember. If they do, I will cry. Publicly.

But I don't think they will.

Okay, just though I'd share that with 1.07k people tonight, because I just really needed to tell someone, as silly as it is.

So yeah. Enjoy your chapter!

Tony hadn't expected his fingers to rest so comfortably on the keys of white and black. He hadn't expected them to dance so naturally upon the ivory.

He also hadn't expected to take to his piano teacher so well. Ms. Lia had silvery hair and lines of laughter and of tears on her face. Her sweet blue eyes encouraged with her sweet kind voice.

"I grew up in Romania. At the time, it was a Communist country and things were not going so well for my people. I began playing the piano at age three. They took me to a great many countries; Poland, France…I played for the kings and queens and dukes. I was awarded trophies for my talent, but the government took them. They threatened me and told me not to talk about the countries I saw, the freedom and peace I saw. They did not want the Romanians to know how opposed to communism other countries were. The entire country only had three TV channels. The government told the people that America was terrible, that it was dirty and that Romania was the best of countries," Ms. Lia said one day as she shuffled through pieces of music. Her accent was thick and often hard to understand, but she spoke in such a factual manner, detached though somehow, heartfelt. It was how Ziva had spoken so often.

"It was very difficult for me to see other countries thrive in such freedom. I could not even tell my family. When I was asked about the beautiful places I had seen, the answers I gave to be so, so generic. Then twelve years ago I came to America. I worked on a cruise ship for some time, then I moved here to Virginia to teach piano," she finished.

"Wow, what a story," Tony said in awe. He shifted on the piano seat. He had been taking lessons from her for four weeks now and neither had mentioned what he was so embarrassed to say. "I'm probably your oldest student,"

Ms. Lia looked up and searched his eyes, searched his face. She put down the papers. "In age, perhaps. But your heart is much more complicated. You are a child yet you have seen the tragedy few can imagine,"

Tony eyed her. "And why would you think that?"

She sighed just a little. It wasn't an impatient sigh, or a sigh of misunderstanding. It was a sigh of hopefulness. "The heart does not have words. It does not write with letters or symbols. Anthony, we are all poets. Our hearts sing like sunrises and cry like rainfall. We hope as we await the light of tomorrow's dawn. We weep as we see the thunder storm above us. Our hearts find us longing for the first ray and the first raindrop. Some just cannot find the words, though they are always there. The beats are important, yes, but you find your words in the notes," Tony just looked at her, unable to speak. "Perhaps you should play. Play with your heart," Tony turned to the piano hesitantly, his fingers resting upon the keys. "Close your eyes and play,"

Tony closed his eyes, and began to play. The song he found in his heart was bittersweet. Though the notes were high and soft, they sang a song of a broken heart, of longing, and of trying. He played for several minutes, not noticing the tears that had fallen on the keys. Nothing, no one, dared interrupt. The phones didn't ring, the lawn mowers didn't gravel, and even the birds didn't sing.

There was nothing but the soft heart that wrote the words into notes.

Finally, he ended. He didn't look at Ms. Liana, but instead clasped his hands in his lap. "I guess you were right,"

She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looked at her. "I wish I was not,"

Tony smiled sadly. "Me too,"

Abby and Gibbs sat on the bleachers in a crowded gym. Tony was coaching his first basketball game with his team, and they had come in moral support. McGee was off getting coffee, a large Caf-Pow, and a diet cola, as well as a variety of seriously artery-clogging snacks.

Tony was on the other side of the gym, smiling and laughing with his team, coaching them. The Junior Wizards were winning and had been the entire game. He was as enthusiastic as ever, yet somehow managed to find a way to make them respect him. Tony high-fived one of the boys as he sent another out onto the court.

"He looks really happy," Abby commented to Gibbs, smiling.

"He is," Gibbs agreed.

Abby looked at Gibbs and pursed her red lips in thought, her expression then falling to a small wave of sadness. "You think he'll ever date again?"

"It's only been two months, Abs. Give him some time,"

"I know," She admitted.

"He'll date again, sure," He finally answered her question. Abby continued looking at him. "Any questions?"

"You think he'll ever move on?"

This struck a chord in his heart, reverberating with an aching sigh somewhere within. He looked over at Tony. "No, I don't think he will," Gibbs said, his mind wandering away.

The group sat around the table, Gibbs, McGee, Abby, and Tony, eating away at the two large pizzas they had ordered in celebration of Tony's first win. The team was celebrating at one of the boy's houses, complete with a boatload of sugar and caffeine.

They sat at the table, laughing and talking as usual. It felt so normal, so right, excepting the fifth chair at the round table, empty and silent though it screamed of an unforgotten something.

"The team was awesome tonight, Tony," Abby commented.

"They kicked butt," McGee agreed, shrugging happily.

"Thanks, guys,"

"It reminded me of a young boy I knew when I was in my fifth year. Basketball was all he could talk about…" Ducky began to ramble. They let him, smiling at him patiently, slowly losing themselves in their thoughts.

Tony's eyes drifted to the chair across from him. No tears welled in his eyes, no sighs escaped his mouth. He simply looked at him, the ghost of a familiar half-smile appearing on his face, eyes soft with memories. For the first time all day, he thought about her. For the first time, no ache hurt his heart as he thought about her.

And yet, the remembrance of her smile and her support was burned into his mind.

And it always would be.