Late the next afternoon, each member of the team was at his or her desk finishing up the reports on this case that had revealed Dwight Kasdan to be the serial killer they'd been chasing. It had ended badly for him the day before; he had met his death at the hands of one Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

One of the building security guards approached Gibbs' desk and spoke to get his attention.

"Agent Gibbs?"

Jethro looked up. "Yeah, Robinson?"

"The visitor you were expecting is in the interrogation room. Martinez is standing guard," he informed Gibbs enigmatically.

Gibbs nodded once. "Thanks. I'll take care of it."

Robinson walked away and Gibbs got up from his chair. As he rounded his desk, he said, "David – you're with me."

It was hard to tell which of his three agents looked more confused, but Ziva stood automatically and caught up with him. Once they were away from the squad room, Gibbs asked her almost offhandedly, "Got your knife on you?"

"Of course," she answered, more baffled than ever.

"Gibbs, what is this about?" she asked. But the only answer she got was one of his characteristic half-smiles and a murmured, "You'll see."

As they reached the interrogation room, Gibbs first opened the observation room door and flipped on the light. That would render the room completely visible to anyone inside the interrogation room. OK, this is getting really weird, Ziva thought. With a glance, Gibbs confirmed the recording equipment was off and shut the door. He spoke to Martinez.

"No one gets in there until we're finished, got that?" Gibbs directed.

"Sure thing, Agent Gibbs," Martinez responded. "No one will get past me." He positioned himself in front of the observation room door, hands resting on the heavy belt that held his gun, handcuffs and other tools of his trade. At 6'3" and upwards of 270 pounds, he made for an imposing figure.

Gibbs gave a single nod in thanks, then opened the door to the interrogation room and stepped through the entrance. Still holding the door, he tilted his head to motion Ziva in. What – or rather who – she found sitting rather indolently at the table stopped her in her tracks for a moment. Her eyes flew back to Jethro's as he closed and locked the door behind them. He met her gaze directly and gave her a slight nod. The look between them spoke volumes but was indecipherable to anyone else. Most would have assumed he was just using one of his nonverbal cues to a member of his team, but Ziva could see more.

Her heart rate sped up. You are sure? she questioned with her eyes. I'm sure he affirmed wordlessly with his.

"Agents Gibbs and David," Holly Snow drawled. "Surely it doesn't take two of NCIS' finest to remove this piece of jewelry from my ankle. And, frankly, it surprises me that I am not reporting to my probation officer for this."

"My idea," Gibbs revealed. "Thought there was something you should know."

"And you need backup for that?" she questioned, sultry amusement clear in her raised eyebrow as she flicked her gaze to Ziva then back to Gibbs.

"I'm the backup," Gibbs revealed, then leaned against the wall with deceptively casual ease, his arms crossed. With a silent incline of his head, he gave Ziva the go ahead.

Removing her knife from its usual hiding spot on her person, she advanced toward the former madam, perverse satisfaction rolling through her when Snow fixed her gaze on the weapon warily.

Without a word, Ziva crowded into the other woman's personal space a bit, then crouched to quickly and efficiently slice her knife through the strap holding the device to Holly's leg. As the monitor fell away, Ziva caught it and straightened to lay it on the table. She returned her knife to its customary resting place, then she leaned in close, effectively trapping Holly with one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair. She spoke quietly into the other woman's ear.

"Just so you are aware, I am the only woman Jethro needs," the Israeli began. Holly would have had to have been deaf or stupid to miss the warning in Ziva's tone, and she was neither. She was, however, quite simply stunned. Snow couldn't stop the surprise that danced across her face before she schooled her expression back into her usual look of sexy, condescending amusement. Her bright-eyed gaze found Gibbs, who stared back at her unwaveringly.

"He may use you to close a case," Ziva continued. "In fact, I would expect nothing less of him.

"But on a personal basis, he is off limits to you," Ziva revealed firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "He is mine. Understood?" After receiving a nod, Ziva moved back to stand between the madam and Gibbs, though she automatically stood a little to his left side. She was too good of an agent and soldier to completely block his path to the woman in the chair in case something unexpected happened, but her message was clear: to get to him, you are coming through me.

To a less perceptive eye, Ziva and Gibbs' close proximity and their obvious ease with each other would simply be written off as two co-workers who were comfortable friends. But Holly could see below the surface now that she knew to look.

"Well, well, well…" the former madam drawled in a knowing tone as her gaze moved between the two. "Still waters do run deep. Careful though; sometimes the undercurrent can be a killer." Her words hung in the air for a moment.

"Guess I now know why the initial fee for my services was a 'deal breaker,'" she offered as she cocked a brow at Gibbs. He stayed silent, having no intention of getting into a drawn-out conversation over his reasons for turning her down.

"Of course, my alternate stipulation to reduce my days in that ugly ankle bracelet to time served has its appeal, as well," she reflected, lifting her leg and pulling up her pant leg just enough to admire the slender ankle that was now free of the offending monitor. She stood.

"Message received, Agent David." With that line, Holly Snow moved to the door with a sultry sway to her hips. Seriously, did the woman know any other way to walk?

Gibbs reached over to release the lock on the door, then stepped back to Ziva again.

With one hand on the knob, Holly turned toward Ziva. "I applaud your taste in lovers," the former madam commended her. With an appreciative look that traveled lightly over the Israeli, she added, "And his."

With a sexy smile, she left.

Ziva's eyes widened at first. Snow's parting words had been completely unexpected. She turned to face Jethro, her eyes finding his. Those blue eyes she adored were twinkling as he smirked and she couldn't help the surprised laugh that left her throat. The door was still open, so he settled for reaching out and squeezing her hand surreptitiously. That one touch communicated his love and support without a single word. She returned the grasp with a press of her fingers before letting go of his hand, her heart and her gratitude in her eyes.

Gibbs released Martinez from his post with a quick word of thanks and they headed back to the bullpen. Ziva kept her face carefully blank, though there was a lightness to her heart and an extra sparkle in her eye that hadn't been there the day before.

Taking advantage of the fact that she wouldn't do anything to him in public, he murmured for her ears only, "You know, you're kinda cute when you're jealous." His eyes gleamed devilishly.

Her eyes threw him that slit-eyed, mock glare she'd perfected, promising retribution in a more suitable location.

He couldn't wait.

The two agents resumed their seats, while Tony and McGee looked on, obviously dying to ask what was up, but feeling really awkward about doing so for reasons neither could define.

Finally, after Tony had opened and closed his mouth three times, Gibbs said without looking up from his computer, "Something on your mind, DiNozzo?"

"No, Boss." Pause. "Well, yeah…just getting the idea I shouldn't ask," Tony finally sputtered out.

Gibbs was in such a good mood after seeing Ziva's reaction to his little surprise, that he took pity on the man. "Holly Snow was just here to get her ankle bracelet removed," Gibbs supplied.

"We don't usually do that…do we?" McGee asked, totally bewildered.

"Special request" was Gibbs' succinct answer, leaving out that the request had come from him.

Tony had more questions, but wisely kept them to himself. He noticed Ziva had her head down, diligently back to work…though there was a mysterious slight curve to her lips that piqued his interest even further.

Shortly after, Gibbs stood up from his desk and gathered his gun and badge from his drawer, clearly making to leave.

"Going somewhere, Boss?" Of course it was the ever-curious Tony posing the obvious question. Gibbs raised his eyebrows with a direct look that said he didn't report to the younger agent; it was the other way around.

"Did I miss the memo on you and me getting married, DiNozzo?" Gibbs snarked.

"Uh, no, Boss…just wondering if you needed us along," Tony back-pedaled.

Gibbs shook his head.

"Just headin' to the cleaners before they close," he relented enough to answer, though it was more for his lover's benefit than his senior agent's. He avoided looking at Ziva directly, but his peripheral vision caught her pleased smile as she dipped her chin even further. He grinned inwardly. Nothing made him happier than making her happy.

"Finish up what you're doing and get out of here," he directed all of them.

As Jethro walked by Tony's desk, he bent his head to his right, feeling to make sure he had his keys in his pocket. The position of his neck revealed the mark Ziva had left there yesterday. It had been mostly hidden by the collar of his polo all day, but from this angle it was clearly visible.

Tony started to speak once more, then thought twice about it. You had to give him points for trying to keep his foot out of his mouth - and his head free from a slap.

Jethro paused in front of his senior agent's desk.

"What?" he asked in a long-suffering tone.

"Nothing, Boss," Tony responded wisely, though his nonverbal cue of a tug at his own collar gave his thoughts away anyhow.

Gibbs continued his walk toward the elevator, hiding his smirk by walking away.

"What's the matter, DiNozzo? You never had a run-in with a curling iron?" he asked as though he were completely serious. Tony opened his mouth, finger poised in the air, but for once words failed him. His mind was clearly going a mile a minute trying to decipher what had to be code for something.

Gibbs stepped into elevator inwardly chuckling.

Ziva simply could not stop the bark of laughter that left her lips. Tony looked at her and she arranged her face into an innocent expression.

"You know, Tony, curling irons can be very dangerous," she pointed out conversationally. "Why, I could kill you with one without even trying very hard."

"Well, when you put it that way…" Tony muttered, his sense of self-preservation kicking in. He focused his attention back on his work, quiet for now in the face of her breezy remark.

Nothing could stop a conversation in its tracks like a death threat from Ziva.