Abby and Jimmy strode through the beautiful backyard garden and seated themselves beneath the pagoda her father had built earlier that summer. Ivy had already begun growing along the white woodwork, giving it a rustic feel. The bench was concrete with a mosaic picture depicting gold and pink roses. The air smelled of honeysuckle, an aroma that only served to romanticize the moment, along with the golden-hazed sky and the lovely flora which surrounded them.

"Now what did you want to talk about, James?" she asked as she daintily crossed her legs at the ankles.

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Like what, darling?"

"You're calling me 'James' and 'darling;' it sounds fake."

She rolled her eyes. "That's what maturity does to you."

"If that's maturity then I don't want it," he replied with a sour face. He shot up and walked to the edge of the pagoda, glaring down at the rose bush. "Especially if it means you'll be kissing other men."

"Are you still harping on that?" she asked as she stood and walked to him. Her hand fell upon his shoulder and with very little effort on her part she managed to turn him to face her. The "mature, worldly woman" was dissolving, leaving in its place the starry-eyed teenage girl who Jimmy had pinned two days before. "Jimmy, I told you he means nothing."

"Yeah?" he mumbled. He looked down at his shoes as he kicked garden dirt about. "Well I still don't like it."

"You're silly," she said with a giggle. "What do you think is going to happen?"

"You're going to kiss him," Jimmy responded glumly.

"And then what?"

He shrugged. He didn't want to think about the kiss, let alone what would happen after that.

"He'll be gone after that," she continued. "He'll be off and I'll still be here in Sweet Apple with you." She wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest. "Tony isn't the marrying kind; he's the type who prefers to date around and have flings. And that's all this will be to him: a fling."

"And what's that got to do with me?"

"Oh, Jimmy," she sighed. "Don't you understand? Every girl needs that one special boy. She needs a reliable boy, trustworthy and hardworking." She looked up at him. "Don't you think I want to settle down one day?"

The mention of commitment sent Jimmy's cheeks ablaze and he fell into a state of stuttering. "I…uh…settle down?"

Abby laughed. "I don't mean right now, Jimmy! But one day…and I'll need that one special boy, won't I? Something tells me Tony DiNozzo isn't the settling down type."

The young boy's eyes were all stars now. "Wow…you mean one day you'd like to…uh…you know." He looked back down at his shoes, shy to breach such a serious subject. They were only teenagers after all! But still, the idea of one day marrying her…Jimmy couldn't deny it was a pleasant thought. "So you really mean it? Tony DiNozzo doesn't mean anything?"

She kissed him quickly on the lips. "He's just a phase, Jimmy. Let me give him this send-off, one last goodbye, and then he'll be out of my life forever."

That did the trick. Jimmy was now putty in her hand. "Okay," he conceded, "one last goodbye."

As the teenage couple reconciled their tumultuous relationship, a saddened Ziva watched from the stairs leading to the upstairs apartment. Funny, she thought, that two sixteen-year-olds had a more mature and more stable relationship than she and Tim did. She'd been waiting patiently at the man's side, hoping that he would finally pop the question and they could get on with their lives. She had been living in a dream, though; Tim was never going to settle down with her while his mother had him wrapped around her finger.

"Perhaps it is time to move on," she said to herself. "If he cannot recognize how important I am…well, why should I sit by his side time and time again? Let his mother hold his hand through all of this and come up with ideas to save him each time there is a catastrophic event, yes? I am a young and attractive woman that any man would be lucky to have, and yet I stay with him through it all! And why? Because…because of those gorgeous eyes? Because of those beautiful lips? Because of how warm it is in his arms?" She stood and began walking down the steps. "Well, no more! If he wants me he will have to make the commitment to me once and for all! Is he going to be his mother's perfect son or is he going to be the independent man I know he can be?"

There was no response to her question. Why should there be? She was, after all, talking to no one. "Great…now I am talking to myself. That is the first sign of insanity, yes?"

"Ziva?" She looked up and saw a harried Tim running out into the yard, looking about frantically. He caught sight of her, but didn't notice her somber mood. "Ziva!" he called as he jetted up the steps. "Ziva, we have a problem!"

"We have many," she said dryly as she took a seat on one of the steps.

"Mama didn't check in to her hotel! I don't know where she is! She's probably wandering the streets, looking for me! We may never find her!"

"I fail to see what the problem is."

He looked at his girlfriend in utter shock. "Mama's out there alone and I can't do anything to help her!"

"Your mother is a resilient woman, Timothy," she replied calmly as she pulled him down to sit, "she will get by."

"But—"

She raised a hand to silence him. "If she has not materialized by this evening I will personally conduct the search party. Right now we have things to discuss."

"Such as what?" he asked glumly.

"Such as how we're going to squeeze a mayor, an ambitious woman, a song, and a farewell kiss into a three minute spot."

He sighed and rested his chin in his hands. "Well, if we rush along Mayor Vance and Mrs. Gibbs—make sure they keep it short and simple—then we push Tony and Abby on. If we're lucky we'll end with a couple of seconds to spare."

"Mayor Vance strikes me as being a talker. I assume he'll have a nice, long speech written out for the event."

"Well, if it looks like he's going to drone on, I'll have Tony and the band start up and drown him out. It's a bit rude, I know, but it'll get the job done." He sighed once more and began tapping his fingers against his cheek. "I'm just so worried!"

"Oh, Timothy!" she cooed as she cuddled up beside him. "This will work! You will reap the benefits and then you and I can finally get married."

"No," he grumbled, "I mean I'm worried about Mama!"

"Mama!" That one word sent Ziva over the top. She jumped to her feet and began descending the steps two at a time. "That is all I ever hear anymore! Mama this, and Mama that! It's as though there's another woman!"

Tim followed behind contritely. "Ziva!"

"No more!" she proclaimed. "You can do this yourself, Timothy McGee!"

He caught up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him. "Hey, come on," he whispered. "You know you're the only woman for me."

"Other than 'Mama,'" she muttered sarcastically.

"She's my mother, Ziva. The bible says 'Honor thy father and thy mother.'"

"Honor, yes; grovel before, no." She turned in his arms so that they were face to face. She looked up into his beautiful green eyes and momentarily lost her train of thought. "Timothy," she said softly, "I respect your dedication to your mother, but you are a grown man now. You need to make your own choices in life."

"And if my choice is to take care of Mama?"

Her lips pursed into a frown and she pulled herself from his embrace. "Then my choice is to leave you to it."

"Ziva! Ziva, please! I love you!" Tim managed to grab her again. He dipped his head down so that his mouth was directly against her ear. "I love you so much I can't stand it. If you left…well, I just don't know what I'd do."

His words made her smile. It was always nice to know just how much a man needed you, to hear him begging you to stay.

"I promise you we'll get married. We'll have a nice little house for just the two of us."

"Mmm," she murmured with glee. "Tell me more."

"A beautiful rose garden," he said as he plucked a blossom from the Gibbs' rose bush. He stuck the stem behind her ear. "And perhaps a baby…or two…or three…" he said, punctuating each number with a kiss to her neck.

"Timothy," she whispered, eyes closed in bliss. "Perhaps we should go somewhere a bit more…private…"

He turned her around in his arms. Her lips looked so delicious…so kissable. In closer he went…and closer…and closer…

"Timothy!"

The couple jumped apart at the shrill call. It was a call that they knew all too well. "Mama!"

Tim ran toward the house, leaving Ziva fuming behind him. So close! She had been so close! Mama McGee must have had some sort of sixth sense, letting her know the most inopportune time for her to pop up out of nowhere. She wasn't sure what magic spell the McGee matriarch had over her only son, but Ziva hoped to one day learn her secret.

"Mama?" Tim bolted into the house and found his mother, donning her usual mink coat, seated on the couch and fanning herself. "Mama! I was so worried about you!" he said as he rushed to her side. "I told you I made you a reservation!"

"Oh, Timothy," she said in a faint tone. "I didn't want to inconvenience you. You're a young man now; no need to take care of dear old Mama. And…" She stopped and let out a long sigh. "Oh, that journey took its toll on me…"

"I'll get you some water, Mama." He ran off, leaving his mother to hem and haw dramatically while fanning herself frantically. Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs exchanged looks.

"We would love to put your mother up, Mr. McGee," Jenny said, "but I'm afraid we've reached our limit."

Mama McGee shook her head. "That's okay, I can find somewhere to bunker down. So long as my little boy is happy…"

"Mama, you can have the bed upstairs. I'll sleep on the floor," Tim proclaimed as he returned with the promised glass of water. "You need a bed more than I do."

"No, no, son! You're the successful songwriter. You've earned the right to a bed. I'm just a sad old woman who's on her way out." She raised her eyes to the heavens. "I'm coming, Louie! Don't worry about a thing!"

"Are you sick, Mrs. McGee?" Gibbs asked skeptically. He had a knack for spotting phonies. This woman was convincing, no doubt, but it was clear she was putting on an act. Clear, of course, to everyone except her son.

"Just a weak heart," the woman replied. "But I'm so luck to have such a sweet son as Timothy. He's a songwriter, you know."

"We know."

"He's going to continue on the family business, isn't that right, son?"

Tim's cheeks blazed red and he averted his eyes. Mama could always tell what he was thinking. "Actually, Mama…well…I've been thinking…I mean, I've got that degree in chemistry and…well…don't you think I should put it to use?"

Any weakness Mama McGee had ailed from dissolved as she narrowed her eyes angrily. "Chemistry? My son in chemistry?" She shot up and began pacing. "It's that Ziva girl! She's tricked you and turned you against your dear old mother!"

"She's done nothing of the sort, Mama! Ziva only wants me to be happy!"

But the woman was on a roll now and nothing, least of all her son's feeble protests, could stop her. "Oh, she's a crafty one, she is! Making you leave the family business! And for what? For chemistry? Ha! How has chemistry ever changed the world?"

"Mama!"

This time it wasn't Tim calling for his mother; the call came from Abby who was racing down the stairs with Michelle near behind. The girl was grinning excitedly while her mother studied her in horror. The horror may have had something to do with the black spider web that now decorated her neck

"Abigail! What on earth is that?"

"Isn't it great!" the girl gushed, oblivious to her mother's anger. "They're all the rage nowadays! Doesn't it make me look so rock and roll?"

Her mother grabbed her face and turned her head so to better study the new addition to her daughter's skin. "It's not permanent, is it?"

"No," Michelle assured the woman. "Well, I did use a permanent marker…but it should come off eventually."

"Eventually!" Jenny shouted. "Abigail, you march right upstairs this instant! I do not want you coming back down until that…that thing is gone!"

"But mother!"

"No 'buts'! You get that thing off! I will not have you walking around looking like that!"

Abby pouted and turned to her usual ally. "Daddy?"

Gibbs wasn't about to get in the middle of it. "Listen to your mother."

"Ooo, it's not fair!" Abby screeched petulantly as she stomped back upstairs. "It's just not fair!"

Jenny folded her arms angrily, trembling as she reached the limit. "Kids!" she spat out. "So ungrateful and disobedient!"

Mama McGee laid a hand on the younger woman's arm sympathetically. "I wish I could tell you it gets better, dear; unfortunately," she said with a harsh look to her son, "I think it only gets worse."

"Hey! Now I think I've been a pretty good son," he argued. "I've always been there for you!"

The older woman didn't listen as she puttered through the kitchen. "I'll just make it easy on you Timothy," she said as she opened the oven and stuck her head inside. "I'll just lie right here and put you out of your misery."

"But I'm not miserable, Mama!"

"I'm coming, Louie! Save a game of pinochle for me!"

Tim grabbed the woman and pulled her out of the kitchen appliance. "Now, Mama, stop acting like this!"

"What've I got to live for?"

"Me, for one!"

"Oh, I'm only holding you back, Timothy…"

"No, Mama! You're not holding me back!"

"That's parenthood," Mama McGee said to Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs. "You give and give and give…and then they leave you with your head in an oven."

"Never!" Tim proclaimed firmly as he embraced his mother. "I'll never leave you, Mama! I swear it on my life!"

Their commotion was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Ziva was standing in the doorway, arms akimbo, looking on with disdain. Mere minutes before Tim had been holding her in his arms; now she had been replaced by his mother once again. She couldn't live this way.

"Do not mind me," she said tersely, "I only came to use the phone. I think it may be a bit too crowded here and I would hate to take advantage of the Gibbs' hospitality. If you need me, I will be staying at the Sweet Apple Inn." And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed out.

"Ziva!" Tim called out as he went to followed her. He was halted by his mother's hand on his arm.

"Now, now, son," she cooed as she led him in the opposite direction of where Ziva had just gone. "Don't worry! You can always find another secretary!"