A/N: This was just a little something I thought of while I was supposed to be doing homework. I was thinking back to a moment in 7x02 and decided to expand on it slightly. And yeah, this is a non-dialogue story, I know that's a big turnoff for most (including me, most of the time), but I would appreciate it if you gave it a try. A little fluffy. Some pretty blatant Tiva.

Disclaimer: I own my computer, my coffee cup, and my Biology textbook. Which I am supposed to be reading. However, I do not own NCIS, although I would trade that for my Bio homework any day.

It was a typical day. A little chilly. Cloudy, the gray light spilling through the windows like water. The sky looked like a blanket. The air outside was thin and crisp and nippy.

The office was quietly buzzing with quiet chatter, as usual. Clicks of printers and fax machines, ringing phones, and the occasional raised voice punctured the monotony like soft knives. It was all familiar.

Gibbs was sitting at his desk, drinking coffee, a pile of dead Styrofoam Starbucks cups lying next to him. This was good; multiple coffee cups meant a smiling Gibbs. Or, at least, a not-frowning Gibbs.

I was sitting at my desk as well, doing nothing in particular- checking phone for any case alerts, logging onto my email every now and then. That was the thing about this job. It was irregular- like, for a week, we would be working on some tough case that prevented us from sleeping, and the next week, we would be re-examining cold case files, for lack of anything better to do. Sometimes I loved it; sometimes I didn't.

Either way, a little variety never hurt anyone.

Abby was almost certainly down in her lab, doing some personal forensic experiment. Abby was one of the only people I knew who found fun in their job twenty-four seven. That girl is obsessed with science. It's like she's addicted. She comes into work every day. Even on Saturdays. It's insane.

One the other hand, Palmer and Ducky were almost certainly not here. They usually only come in when we call. Ducky was probably off somewhere dealing with his mother. And Palmer…. well, Palmer was most likely sleeping. Or eating. Or maybe even reading or watching TV. What can I say? He's not the most interesting guy.

And then there were Tony and Ziva. They were probably having one of their silent conversations.

When I looked over at them, I found that I was right, although it didn't surprise me-this was a very regular occurrence.

Tony was leaning back in his chair, his feet balanced on his desk, his arms folded. His hair was a little messy today, and his suit, as always, a little tight. His eyes were squinted and his mouth slightly curled upwards. He was staring straight at Ziva.

Of course, because they were complete opposites, Ziva was leaning forwards, her chin propped up in one of her hands. Her chocolate hair was loose and curly today, spilling over her forehead and cascading over her delicate shoulders and back. She was wearing a close-fitting purple shirt, a little low-cut. Her Star of David necklace glinted in the watery light. Her mouth was also curved upwards into an insightful smile, although her large, pretty black eyes were opened wide. They were looking straight into Tony's hazel ones.

Just as Abby believed Gibbs had magical powers, I believed Tony and Ziva could read each other's minds. Honestly. They do it all the time.

They are completely incompatible people- opposite in every way. Tony is soft and obnoxious and joke-cracking the outside, strong and brave on the inside; Ziva has a stiff, tough shell she covers herself with constantly, but within that, she's gentle and sweet and caring.

But they can communicate mentally as if they are the same person. Like, they'll turn and look at each other at the same time, understanding of something in both their eyes. When one comes into the room, they'll turn, almost subconsciously, so that they're bodies are angling slightly towards each other. They can face opposite directions in the observatory room during an interrogation and have a conversation as thought they're sitting across from each other at a table. They finish each other's sentences. They know where the other is going before they even get up to leave.

It's scary.

And I've seen them have these silent little conversations a thousand times before. I've seen it during an undercover mission, at a fancy hotel dinner table; I've seen it when they broke into the base to steal DOMINO, walking side by side down hallways, they're faces turned towards each other; almost every day in the bullpen, when we're all explaining leads to Gibbs. Tony will say something suggestive, or make fun of one of Ziva's English mistakes, and they'll look at each other for like 10 minutes, not saying anything. I see it when they interrogate together. And I saw it when Ziva came back from Somalia, Tony's head tilted to the side, Ziva's upright and facing forwards. But they were looking into each other's eyes and reading things that I couldn't. It had been, like, half a year, and they still hadn't lost that weird connection.

I couldn't even begin to guess at what they were "talking" about now. Ziva tilted her head to the side, Tony leaned forward an inch. His smirk fell a little; Ziva's lips lifted a centimeter. She leaned pulled her arm that had been supporting her chin back into her lap; he lifted his feet off of his desk.

Ha. This was like a read conversation. But…without words.

I glanced over at Gibbs. He watch watching the both of them, coffee cup clutched in his hand, icy eyes squinted suspiciously.

Then he put down his coffee cup and stood up. Tony and Ziva glanced over at him at the same time, and also stood up. Gibbs walked purposefully down the hallway to the elevator, Tony and Ziva both on his heels, still smiling but no longer facing each other. The three of them stepped into the elevator, the doors slowly sliding shut behind them. I listened for the telltale clang of the elevator the signaled the flipping of the emergency switch and heard it only a few moments after the doors had shut.

Listening harder, I heard some sort of muffled dialogue, probably between Gibbs and Tony. Ziva interjected. Was cut off by Tony, who was cut off by Gibbs.

And I thought I had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about. Haha. Some conversations just had to be had out loud.

A/N: Sooo....it's official! There's my third story! Hooray! And I know it's probably crap. But, a review that says it's good, sweet crap would make me smile :)