AN: I've been very quiet lately. Sorry :-/ I'm doing the "after work hustle" here. Trying to make some items for a craft show here on May first. My goal is to be able to afford to go back to college in November. And right now it doesn't look good. So I'm hoping the craft show can help me earn some $$!!

Regardless, this showed up in my brain last night and bugged me all day. It is 100% unbeta'd so I'm SURE there are issues; they're all mine - no blaming anyone else.

Thoughts & reviews are appreciated, as always.

It was a secret they kept between the two of them.

No one had to know.

Once a month, Abby would bring in an extra Gluten Free Chocolate cupcake with Devil's Food Icing and tuck it safely in the fridge in her office. In exchange, Ziva would bring the Midol and a copy of Cosmo.

The two would sit on the futon in Abby's office and eat chocolate cupcakes and flip through the trashy magazine while Abby explained the finer points of American culture to her assimilating friend. They would both succumb to the monthly draw of hormones and embrace the girl-time, despite their nontraditional attitudes.

But really, truth be told, they were there for the chocolate.

This month, however, Abby had run late and not been able to stop for the cupcakes. Ziva, too busy with a case, hadn't been able to sneak away for an emergency Devil's Food run.

The as-yet-untouched box of valentine's candy in her desk drawer had become her savior.

She pried the lid off, snatching up a random confection and sinking her teeth slowly through the milk chocolate coating and into the chewy nougat, her eyes closing as the flavor swirled over her taste buds.

The box had been a surprise that morning. She hadn't expected a beautiful single red rose atop a box of chocolates. She certainly hadn't expected the box to come without a note.

The mystery had nagged at her, initially. But eventually the chaos of NCIS and her life shoved the question aside and the box had gone almost forgotten, shoved to the back of her desk-drawer.

But today, today she remembered the box with restrained glee, knowing its contents would alleviate some of the hormone-induced chocolate craving she couldn't seem to squelch.

As she swallowed the last of the nougat, she reached back into the box, letting her fingers dance across the surfaces, trying to select at random.

But when her fingers brushed against the cool feel of metal, her eyes flicked open and she pulled the box closer for inspection.

There, tucked neatly under the remaining chocolates, lay nestled in the box a delicate gold chain.

Ziva curled her fingers around chain and gently pulled it from beneath the chocolates.

What was now obviously a necklace dangled from her fingers in front of her eyes. Her breath almost caught in her throat as she traced the necklace down to the pendant hanging at the bottom.

It was a delicately crafted, hammered-gold Star of David. It looked remarkably like the one that had hung around her neck for the last twenty years.

Her lips twitched, trying to repress the knowing grin that threatened to break into a full beaming smile.

She set the box back on her desk, managing in spite of her shaking fingers to replace the lid. With a flick of her wrist, she wrapped the chain around her fingers, tucking the pendant firmly in her grip.

Shouldering her bag and grabbing her keys with her free hand, she strode towards the elevator.

To say that Tony was surprised to find her on the other side of the door at this late hour was an understatement.

She hadn't been to his house in longer than he cared to remember. Where at one time she had been a fixture in his place, her frame stretched on his couch watching movies, or her presence at his stove, helping cook dinner, now his apartment echoed with her absence.

He couldn't help but instinctively step to the side, allowing her to enter his apartment without either uttering a single word. He shut the door behind her, hearing the soft thump of her bag landing on the floor just inside the doorway.

When he turned, he saw her hand unfolding, the sparkling gold chain tumbling from her grasp.

Tony looked up, forcing his gaze to remain impassive as he met her eyes.

She reached out her hand and, drawn by instinct, he reached back, allowing her to delicately settle the necklace in his hand.

For the smallest of moments, Tony just knew that her next words, her next actions, would be laden with rejection.

But then, Ziva's lips flickered almost imperceptibly. But he noticed.

He always noticed.

And he felt the knot of worry that had taken up residence in his gut since placing that damned box on her desk, suddenly uncurl, now becoming a gentle flutter of anticipation.

She turned, using her hands to gather her hair up, holding it away from her neck.

He didn't need to hear her ask. He just stepped forward, unclasped the necklace and draped it carefully against her creamy skin. Tony's fingers lingered at her neck, unwilling to leave the warmth of her skin.

She turned her head, her nose a hair's width from his chin.

The Mossad agent would have played the moment for all it was worth. Teasing, banter, ensuring she had the upper hand.

The instinct was still there. But she was able to ignore it.

Instead, she gave in to the desires of the woman she was becoming. And in a hesitant and gentle move, she tipped her head up and kissed his cheek ever so lightly.

"Thank you," she said softly, her breath caressing his skin.

"No more losing them," he replied, his fingers slipping off her skin, one resting carefully on her hip as she spun to face him. He knew his words weren't accurate; though they never discussed it, he knew that the necklace had somehow been sacrificed to Saleem. He knew it as instinctively as he knew that it was more than just a necklace to her. "I'm not replacing this one next year." It was safer – for them both – to not mention the unmentioned. It was safer to let the terrors they had survived remain unspoken until the timing was right.

Ziva's hand closed around his arm, feeling the cotton of his shirt under the pads of each finger. She felt him automatically tighten his grip on her hip and she couldn't help but lean into the touch. "Next year the chocolates will be plenty."