For several long minutes, I silently observe the ritual that goes on between my favorite group of agents from the fourth floor catwalk. As a director, I shouldn't have favorites… but as an agent, I have one team that I enjoy working closely with. Watching the interaction between Agents DiNozzo and McGee and Officer David, I can't help but think of it as a dance. Like a well-oiled machine, they each strive to find the best leads, thinking it will impress Gibbs.

Jethro, to his credit, remains as stoic as ever and in doing so, pushes his team to work harder for their, "atta-boy". Taking a long, slow sip of coffee, I watch them gather around the plasma screen television. From this distance, I can't see much… I make a mental note to pull the file later and read up on it. Tim steps up and says something, but his back is to me and his words are lost.

"Bring it up, McGee," I hear Gibbs growl. Even from here, I can tell he's irked by the technology. He always was… that's why he enjoyed our Serbian assignment; he got to play things the old-fashioned way. That's the way he wanted to play in Paris, too.

I feel his hand caress my cheek, blistering in the already warm Parisian night.

It comes as a flash, and, for a split second, I let it take me back five years.

His hands push my hair back so he can see my face, as he rotates me so he is on top.

With a start, I shake off the memory and down the last of my coffee. 'That was a lifetime ago,' I remind myself, and take one last look at the group below me. Everyone has gone back to their desks. Tony and Ziva are both on the phone, and McGee is busily typing away. I smile, in spite of myself, thinking about their intricate dance. Looking up to the last person on that team, I find his piercing blue eyes studying me.

Hands still in my hair, he locks eyes with me, and I can feel those cobalt blues burning into me. With a rough kiss, we are undone.

"Jen," he whispers against my mouth and collapses into me.

For a moment, I let our gaze meet. As if he can read my mind, an enigmatic smile crosses his face, and I am the first to look away. With my coffee finished, I have no excuse to be standing around. Turning, I go to MTAC and scan my retina. When the lock disengages, I open the door and take one final look back.

His eyes haven't left me, but the smile is gone. I let the door close behind me, cutting me off from his stare, but I can still feel its intensity. Grabbing a headset, I pull it on and begin counting the seconds until Jethro lets his curiosity get the better of him. And it will...

It's only a matter of time.