"Have you ever been in love, Ziva?"

"I am not certain what you mean by love, Abby. However, yes, I have."

"And were you alike?"

Ziva laughed. "Not in the slightest."

Abby sighed. "See, that's my problem."

"What is?"

"We're too alike. We like the same things. We talk the same language. We're . . . We're kindred spirits. And that never works."

"Does it not?"

"No. At least . . . I love him, but . . . I'm so wrong for him. He needs someone who -"

"Will love him for who he is. Abby, Tim loves you; you know that. It is clear to see."

"I don't want to hurt him."

Ziva was silent for a moment. Then she said, "I believe you are doing that anyway."

"What? What do you mean, Ziva?" Abby demanded, glaring at Ziva.

Ziva stood her ground. "He, to use a cliché, gave you his heart a long time ago, did he not?"

It was Abby's turn to be silent.

Finally she said, her voice quiet, "Yes."

"Then stop searching for what you already have. Take a chance Abby, give Tim your heart. After all, tomorrow is Valentine's Day." And with those words, Ziva turned on her heel and left Abby's lab.