Tony got back to his apartment and checked his watch. Midnight. He hadn't been kicked out of a bar before midnight since college.

He couldn't get Ziva out of his head. There was a feeling bubbling in his stomach; he was in love. He had never felt this way before. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He asked himself. His cell started ringing. "DiNozzo."

"Hey."

"Ziva. This is a bit of a surprise."

"I have another surprise for you."

"What would that be?"

"Open your door."

Tony moved to his door. "I can see you through the peephole. And for the record, I'm looking down your shirt." Tony opened the door and saw Ziva was smiling. Click.

"Surprise. May I come in?"

"Yeah, of course." Ziva stepped under Tony's outstretched arm and into his apartment.

"This is a nice apartment," she said.

"Thanks," Tony replied. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No. Why? Did you have something in mind?"

"Maybe. But it's gonna take a few minutes. So make yourself comfortable, and I'm gonna get started." Ziva sat down on Tony's couch, and Tony started cooking.

After several angry, profanity-filled Italian outbursts (Which caused Ziva to start laughing), Tony finally threw together his grandmother's pasta puttanesca.

Tony stuck his head into the living room. "Food's ready," he said calmly.

Ziva got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, still smiling because of Tony's outbursts. Tony didn't know it, but Ziva could understand every word that he said; none of it was pleasant, but it didn't keep her from laughing.

Tony didn't even hear Ziva when she hit the kitchen. He just turned around, and there she was. And she was laughing.

"What's so funny?" Tony asked.

"I understood what you were saying," Ziva replied.

"I should probably apologize." Tony laughed at himself, with good reason.

Ziva shook her head as she sat down. "There is no need. I have heard worse... from my father."

Tony started laughing as well. "Sounds like a nice family," he joked.

Ziva nodded. "There used to be moments where I would hope that I had a normal family that was looking for me."

Tony smiled again. "I know how you feel. There's days where I just want to get away, and then there's days for Rule Number 8."

"Rule Number 8?" Ziva repeated, confused.

"My boss has this list of Rules. Number 8 is 'Never take anything for granted.' That's only one of about 50."

"So what was today?"

"What?"

"Was today one of those Rule 8 Days, or was it one of those days where you want to get away?"

"A little of both."

"Which is it right now?"

"I'm not sure. I'll tell you tomorrow, but it's looking good so far."

Look good, it did. After a lengthy late-night dinner, Tony and Ziva stayed up until the crack of dawn, just talking. One thing was for sure: Even though they had only known each other for a few hours, Tony and Ziva had fallen in love. When Tony went to work Monday, everybody could tell.

Sometimes, the Boulevard of Broken Dreams made a right turn into paradise.

"My shadow's the only one that walks beside me. My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating. Sometimes, I wish someone out there will find me. 'Till then, I walk alone."

Sequel is coming. I can only promise that it will be a "Burn Notice" Crossover, picking up where Tony goes into work after the weekend.