"Gear up, we've got a case" our boss's authoritative tone rang throughout the bullpen. I glimpsed across the walkway and saw the slight nod from my partner. Yanking my crime scene gear from its corner, I strode briskly, my eyes concentrated on the dark hair ahead of me.

Tony's green eyes were completely interlocked with my brown ones as he whined and complained. "Zee-vah, you should've let me drive! Gibbs will kill us if we get to the crime scene before he does." I shook my head at the pronunciation of my name he predominantly used. We bumped along in the NCIS van as the speedometer fluctuated and leveled out at 75. I took a sharp turn onto a major highway, dubbed "US-1".

"Tony, Gibbs ordered me to drive for a reason. We have to drive to Miami at least that is what the CPS, yes, said. If you drive, it will take us days to get there." I responded informatively. Tony threw his head into his hands, and my sharp ears caught McGee's barely audible groan. Laughing, Tony said "GPS, Zee-vah. G-P-S. Global Positioning System. You've been in the US for what, three years now, and you still can't figure these things out. You know 47 ways to kill someone with a paper clip, but not a simple device like this. Tsk tsk", he said, feigning disapproval.

Shaking him off, I continued "We are sharing jurisdiction with another group. The liaison on the FBI…"

"Damn cocky Feds" Tony interrupted under his breath.

I shook my head "and the Jeffersonian Institution. Have you ever heard of it?" directing my last question at McGee.

He began to get giddy. "Yeah, I have. They are supposed to be the best facility in the country in terms of science and computer forensics. Abby is gonna be so excited!"

"Man, it gets worse than Probalicious here? Z, we are so in for it."

Shaking my head at yet another nickname for me, I concurred with his statement. I voiced my opinion on the matter.

Gripping the wheel tighter, my hands firmly on the "10 and 2" grip, I pushed my foot upon the gas pedal, accelerating in order to swerve around a slow Mazda ahead of me. Tony began to whimper like a little child, and McGee was pushed flat against the back of the van. A soft semismile appeared across my lips, but I released my foot slightly.

Time, surprisingly, passed quite quickly in the van. Tony shared humorous stories of his childhood, where he was "loaded", as he so bluntly put it. I shocked myself with being able to laugh easily at his jokes. McGee also joined the conversation, telling tales of MIT, where he went to college. All too soon, we pulled up into the alleged crime scene, our silver-haired boss already present.

My Mossad skills taught me to observe my surroundings pristinely, in order to look for potential enemies and/or suspects as such. I noticed a tall, maybe about 6'1", dressed in a dark black suit, chiseled muscles visible even from a distance, standing beside him an auburn-haired woman and I could see his protective hold on her- probably a girlfriend. Oh well. This must be the Jeffersonian team, obviously quite unorthodox.

Gear slung across my shoulder, we trudged forward, awaiting Gibbs's instruction. Speaking of Gibbs, I looked around and didn't see him anywhere. Suddenly his hand appeared out of nowhere to smack Tony in the back of the head. Stifling a laugh, I heard his gravelly voice questioning "Why were you so late?". Like a child, he stuck his pointer finger at me, saying "Ziva drove…" I interrupted his incriminating statement with a "death glare" and cracked my knuckles menacingly. His open mouth shut immediately, and he fell silent, a truly rare occurrence.

Gibbs then escorted our trio over to the corresponding two. Extending a calloused hand, he introduced himself to the tall brown-haired man "Leroy Jethro Gibbs, but you can call me Gibbs." The man returned the gesture "Special Agent Seeley Booth and my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan. Nice to meet you." His manners were as impeccable as his appearance. And "partner". What did it mean in this instance? As I pondered the question, Gibbs began to point to McGee, Tony and I and introduce us. I acknowledged my own name with a slight nod of the head, but Dr. Brennan extended her small hand toward me, something she had not done for McGee. Her perfectly French manicured nails contrasted heavily with my bitten and torn ones. I had participated in futile attempts to rid myself of the habit since childhood. Not knowing what to do, I shook it, and as we did, our gazes interlocked. She had crystal blue eyes that seemed to notice everything. Dr. Brennan was truly a flawless and ravishing woman, and jealousy raged through my insides.

I forced a polite smile on my face and withdrew my hand. Gibbs moved on to Tony, who jumped the gun, spitting out "Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo, but you (emphasis toward Dr. Brennan) can call me Tony.

Jealousy overwhelmed me even more. Did he find the need to flirt with every woman he encountered? I was so tired of him doing that. She laughed, and responded "You can call me Tempe". I saw Booth stiffen at her side and drape his long arm across her shoulders. Even I, unfamiliar with American mannerisms, could interpret it as a gesture of "claiming her". I, who as much hated chivalry as much as the next person, wished someone would treat me like that. His warm arm around my shoulders as I snuggled my head into his warm chest, green eyes focusing upon me, only me. I shook my head vigorously in an effort to rid myself of these thoughts. Remember rule number 12, Ziva. If it ever even happened, Gibbs would shoot us.

"Something wrong, Miss David?" Booth's bass voice rang in my ears. I stood up straighter, and glaring right at him, responded "Number one, it's Officer David, and two, nothing at all and if there was it would be none of your business!"

I regretted my harsh words immediately as the compassionate glimmer in his brown eyes turned to ice. Dr. Brennan placed her hand upon his forearm, and almost magically, the impending rage abandoned his irises. They sure acted like a couple. At this exchange, I saw Tony lose some of the swagger in his posture, probably not from being able to hook up with yet another girl.