A/N: Ok fist things first, inspiration for this fic came from Oxymoronic Alliteration's fic entitle Two to Tango. You should probably read that first, as I reference it a few times. Next up, you should know that I am usually a McAbby and Tiva shipper, but there's just something about this pairing that I just adore. And lastly this is set early season 7 post Power Down, but Endgame never happened. I just can't do that to McGee.

If there was one thing Ziva David did not like in life it was confusion. The unknown bothered her, especially when it came to information being with held from her. Lack of knowledge caused mistakes and lives to be lost, especially in her line of work. So upon finding herself in a situation where all the questions asked could only be answered by her, Ziva was at a loss.

Pacing her apartment Ziva ran a frustrated hand through her hair as she tried to sort through all of her thoughts. How had this even happened? Sure they worked together, and yes they were friends too. She trusted him with her life; she had to in her profession. But how had he managed to get past all her defenses and make himself such an integral part of her life?

It was partially her fault, she supposed. The tango lessons she had asked him to attend with her nearly a year ago. She had meant it when she said that he was the only man she would not mind spending an hour with outside of work. It had seemed like such an innocent request; she had just wanted someone there with her that she knew. And how he had surprised her at the lessons; McGee could dance! That had been the first time she had truly noticed him as a man, not just a friend or co-worker. Slowly lessons began to be followed by a late dinner or drinks. Just two people getting to know more about each other. It helped that they lived close to each other as well. And then she had cancelled the lessons, and the dinners, and everything else by returning to Israel .

Following that had been Somalia . She had been ready to die, but no, McGee, Tony and Gibbs had come to rescue her. While she later found it had been Tony's idea to come and get her, it had truly been McGee that had saved her. He had re-enlisted them for tango lessons. A welcome home present or outlet, he had claimed while they had been stuck in an elevator all night at the Navy Yard. Granted that had been after she had let it slip that between Tony and McGee, she found McGee to be the better looking one. Still, none of this answered her questions in regards to her seemingly sudden shift in feeling towards her partner.

How did she feel? She didn't even know anymore. He had been such a steady presence in her life for the past four years. He had somehow managed to ingrain himself into her life at his own unobtrusive speed. She trusted him, enjoyed his company and even cared for him. None of that accounted for her suddenly overwhelming emotions. How had it happened so fast?

It had been a slow sort of seduction, Ziva realized, not fast at all. A process spanning four years really. At first she had thought it was Tony she had feelings for, but no, he was always interested in someone else. It hurt to admit that, but it was the truth, a truth made crystal clear after Jeanne and Tony's constant dismissal of her probing in regards to how he felt about her. Grinning slowly, Ziva thought back on the times they had shared both at work and outside. One memory in particular stood out. It h ad been their first lesson back at Rosetta Stone, and McGee had been teasing Ziva about being rusty.

"Come on, Ziva! Don't tell me you've forgotten everything," McGee teased.

"I have not. The inability to practice has, however, slowed me down. Somewhat," Ziva responded with a roll of her eyes.

"So you won't see this coming?" McGee asked as he dipped her, much like the first time. Placing his left hand on Ziva's back and grabbing her left hand with his right, he dipped her back. Ziva gave a small yelp of surprise, much like the first time he had done so. With a satisfied smirk, McGee brought her body back up, flush against his.

"Timothy McGee! I told you to never do that again." Ziva glared at him.

"And you promised to never let it slip that I could dance," McGee countered. "Don't tell me you forgot that too. What happened to that endless Mos—uhm memory?"

Ziva looked down at her feet, falling silent.

"Aww. Crap. Ziva, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, that was inconsiderate."

"No. It is ok, McGee. It is part of my past."

"Still, that was tactless," McGee protested. "Let me make it up to you. Dinner after class?"

"Sure, McGee. That would be lovely." Ziva smiled slightly, looking back up at him.

Breathing a sigh of relief, McGee nodded in agreement "Great. And you do know that it is okay to call me Tim."

Dinner afterwards had been lovely. McGee had been the perfect gentleman. He always was. It was a part of his charm, much like his large heart, caring nature, and slight ineptness in social settings. Suddenly Ziva stood stock still.

No.

It couldn't be.

Could it?

It was. Ziva David, former Mossad officer and trained killer, was in love with Timothy McGee, NCIS junior agent and all around computer guru. This was insane. Yet she really shouldn't be surprised. He had become her best friend and confidante. It was more a natural progression.

A sudden knock at the door pulled Ziva from her thoughts. Glancing at the clock, she cursed silently. She had forgotten about lessons tonight, odd considering that they had sparked her current train of thoughts.

"Coming." Going to the door she flung it open.

"Hey, Ziva, you ready to go?" McGee asked before noticing her outfit. "Or not."

"I am sorry. I lost trail of time," Ziva said heading for her bedroom

.

"Track, Ziva. It's lost track of time."

"Right. I will only be a moment," Ziva called, rushing into her room to change.

"Sure thing. We still have some time anyway," McGee responded, leaning against the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room.

A few moments later Ziva stepped out of her room, dressed in a red halter dress with a ruffled skirt, ruffles accented with black silk piping, falling diagonally over her knees. Strappy red heels and a black head band embroidered with red roses completed the outfit. Looking up from his cell phone, McGee's mouth went dry.

"Are you ready?" Ziva asked, grabbing her purse and phone from the counter, while doing her best to hide her smile at McGee's expression. The dress truly had been a good idea on her part, and it was rather comfortable, considering.

"Uh…Yeah." McGee cleared his throat a few times, eyes still glued on Ziva. The dress clung to her curves in all the right places and showcased her legs perfectly. Tugging at his shirt collar, McGee opened the door for Ziva, allowing her to pass him on her way out the door.

Class passed in a similar fashion as all the others. Rosalita, ever the task mistress, tweaked movements and positions, and McGee still declining any and all invitations to join advanced classes. Afterwards, Ziva quietly suggested dinner, claiming that she wanted to try the new French restaurant between her and McGee's places. Never one to refuse a lady, McGee agreed easily.

Dinner passed easily, both parties enjoying the meal, with only the occasional comment passed between the two. During dessert McGee tried to think of something to say, but didn't want to make a fool of himself. He knew Ziva well enough to know something was wrong, but if addressed the wrong way, the young agent could very well find himself on the receiving end of the Israeli's temper. Arguing with the voices, in his head McGee decided straightforward was probably the best way to go. Walking out of the restaurant, and noticing Ziva shiver, McGee slid his jacket off and placed it around Ziva's shoulders with a smile.

"Thank you, McGee." Ziva smiled up at him, noticing how close he was.

"You know after nearly five years of working together, it's ok to call me Tim."

"Tim." Ziva nodded, drawing out his name, almost like she was tasting it. "Tim. Could we talk?" Ziva asked suddenly serious.

"Of course, Ziva. Is there something wrong? Are you okay?" McGee asked, thrown by the look on her face.

"I am physically fine, McGee, no, Tim. I…is the some place we could talk privately. It is important."

It was the look on Ziva's face that worried McGee more than anything. It was the closest thing she had to a vulnerable expression, with her eyebrows creased slightly, eyes downcast, and mouth turned down just slightly. Nodding he ushered her to his car, opening the door for her. His gut was yelling at him that something was off, McGee knew that much. What he didn't know was what exactly was off.

"Here we are," McGee said a short while later, pulling up in front of Ziva's house. "I thought you'd want to talk somewhere, you're comfortable." He shrugged at Ziva's questioning look.

"Thank you." Ziva smiled.

After sliding out of the car and opening Ziva's door, McGee smiled, albeit nervously. Ziva climbed out lettting McGee close the door, but didn't move from beside the car. Her only movement was to wrap McGee's jacket tighter around her petite frame.

"Ziva? Did you want to go inside?" McGee asked, softly.

"Not just yet." Ziva shook her head, leaning back against the Porsche. McGee leaned back too, standing next to her.

"Tim…do you believe in soul mates?" Ziva asked after a few moments.

"Soul mates?" McGee looked down at her.

"Yes, soul mates." Ziva nodded, not meeting his gaze, staring instead at the front door of her small house.

McGee paused "I…hope there is such a thing. I'm not really sure if there is. At one point I had thought Abby might be mine, but that didn't quite work out for me." McGee grinned slightly, shaking his head. "I was a lot younger then, and it's not like my track record with women is exactly stellar. But um, yeah, I guess I kinda do believe in soul mates. Someone who can compliment another person, in nearly every way."

"So two people who are exactly the same?" Ziva questioned, heart sinking.

"What? No, not at all. They'd have to be very different. Compliment, each other. Pick up where the other lacks. Though I'm sure some similarities would have to be there. Why do you ask?" McGee asked, turning so he was facing her.

"I…uh." Ziva looked up at Tim nervously. "I…"

"You what, Ziva?" Tim asked softly, his bright green eyes meeting her dark brown ones curiously.

Pausing for only a second, Ziva leaned in closer to McGee, kissing him suddenly. Tim stiffened, his mind going a million miles a minute. His only real coherent thought being, Ziva's kissing me! It was a few seconds more before McGee actually responded. Wrapping his arms around Ziva's waist, he pulled her closer. Ziva smiled against Tim's lips, her hands sliding up into his hair.

Pulling away after a few more moments, Ziva smile up at Tim. "I think you may be my soul mate, Tim. That is why I asked." Ziva paused once more, uncertain how to continue, especially given McGee's silence.

Tim smiled slowly at Ziva. "Well I don't know if I am or not, but I'd really like to see if I am. I know I haven't said much of anything to you, since…Somalia, but I've thought of you every day, every night. You seem to have taken over my brain. It's overly romantic, I know, but it's the truth. And if there's anyone in the world that I would choose to be soul mates with, it's you."

"You are not worried that we are too different?" Ziva asked hesitantly.

"Not really. It's the beauty of you and I. Sure, we're different, but there are some similarities. I promise." Tim grinned, pulling Ziva closer, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

"Well, if I had known tango lessons would get me here , perhaps I would have suggested them sooner." Ziva smirked, causing Tim to laugh. It would be an odd journey, for the unlikely pair, but both were sure it was more than worth it. After all, one of their common factors was plain stubbornness and willingness to fight for those they loved.

** Remember reviews are love! Oh and I'm thinking of turning this into a series of one shots. Yes? No? Maybe?**