Chapter 13
As the elevator moved past the third floor and the squad and break rooms and headed toward the fourth floor with the director’s office and his conference rooms, the car was filled with groans of frustration.
“Who pressed the wrong button?” Ziva growled out, as she watched the lights flash by.
“Easy, Ziva,” Abby teased. “We’ll just have to press the button again when we stop. The right button this time.’
But when the doors opened on the third floor, Abby had only a moment when she turned around before spotting Jet on the other side. She was suddenly pulled toward him.
When his lips came crushing against hers in his own special kind of domination, she heard growls coming from the elevator behind her. She would have laughed if she had been free. Instead, the laughter came from behind her, from Ziva.
“Stand down, gentlemen. It’s about time Abby had someone who wants to dominate her. Someone who wants to jerk her against them. Someone who wants to devour her like he is doing right now. Someone who wants…”
“Enough, Ziva!” Tim complained. “We got the picture…” he said as the doors closed on them.
Ducky quietly hit the level one button, hoping none of them saw his maneuver. It was nice seeing Abby getting a man’s attention for a change. “Well, then, I guess we’ll just have to wait until we rise again.”
“Do women really want that?” Tony asked everyone in the elevator, focusing mostly on Ziva. “Even a She-Ra woman like you, you want that, Ziva? You want some guy to just…do that?”
When the elevator dinged on the autopsy level, Ducky gave them an innocent smile. “I seem to have caught a bit of a chill. Will you be dears and hold the elevator while I run and grab a sweater?”
Ziva smiled at Ducky’s maneuverings, glad the two guys had missed his ”accidental” button pushing. Holding the door for the doctor by stepping in the pathway, she looked at Tony as she answered him. “Oh yes, Tony. Some women really do want that. The Alpha male who takes what he wants, who grabs and holds onto whatever he needs. It can be very…arousing. But not all women want that,” she hurried to reassure them at Tim’s crestfallen look.
“Some women prefer the more gentle approach to courtship and even to love making. I find to prefer both sides of the bed, as it were.”
Tony arched an eyebrow. Ziva not in control? Ziva wanting to be taken by a stronger adversary but then wooed. He gave her a smirk. “I’m equal parts Conan, Rhett, and Darcy, Ziva.”
Ducky, too, arched an eyebrow, regarding Ziva with a small smile playing over his face. “And a man truly comfortable in his skin will adapt with grace and love to whatever his partner needs at any given time.”
She was an enigma, Ziva, and Ducky was finding his senses quite aroused and intrigued. “A true renaissance gentleman loves the challenge and variety of a woman secure in her many roles.”
“I think a true gentleman period, Ducky. As a true lady would in kind, at least one who lived for more than a stateroom.” Turning to Tony, Ziva teased him, asking, “Are you offering, Tony? Because last time I checked, the only chemistry we create is when we blow things up.”
Tony snorted and shrugged. He and Ziva were like siblings. They flirted sometimes out of sheer boredom but there was nothing there beyond a mild appreciation for another attractive body. “Dating you would be like dating my sister.”
“If you had a sister, that is, yes? Because last time I checked, and I have checked, you have no sister.”
“If I had a She-Ra kind of sister, yeah,” Tony agreed, grinning. He glanced back at McGee and shrugged.
“What is a She-Rra? Is there a He-Ra?” Ziva asked confused.
Tony should have known that Ziva wouldn’t have been exposed to the He-Man world. “There’s He-Man and She-Ra. Twins. Brother and sister. Masters of the Universe cartoon series. McGee’s first crush was probably She-Ra. She was gorgeous and she knew how to fight. And for a long time people thought they were a couple, which was kind of funny when you think about it but kind of disturbing in a way too. It was a comic book series that were made into cartoons in the ‘80s.” Tony angled a glance at McGee. “You a fan, McGeek?”
“I was more interested in my chemistry set and taking apart the television than actually watching it.”
“So it was a cartoon based on an incecstual relationship between universal cartoons?” Ziva was more confused than before Tony had started to explain. “And the American television system was okay with this?”
Tony laughed, shaking his head. “No, they were brother and sister, no chemistry. No incest. Or even insects. But people saw what they wanted to see. Some folks’ll Brokeback anything or make characters be involved. Even Thom E. Gemcity has fans who want Tommy and Lisa together,” he said, referring to the characters in McGee’s books, ‘The Continuing Adventures of M. Fredrick’. “And have you ever seen the fanfic sites?”
“Are there people out there, breaking the backs of others? Should this be something we need to investigate? I have yet to hear about a serial killer singularly breaking the backs of the victims.” Shaking her head to show her complete confusion, Ziva continued. “What are fanfic sites, DiNozzo? Is this a new ailment that I need to be concerned of your medical condition from the plague? Does it enter at certain sites on your body?”
Tony let out a frustrated growl. “Brokeback Mountain, Ziva,. The movie. Two guys in love, forbidden love. Won a lot of awards a few years ago. Fanfic is…fanfic. People write stories about their favorite movies or TV shows or books, change the plots or focus on characters that don’t have an intense a relationship. People pair Tommy and Lisa together a lot, or Fred and Amy. Sometimes even Lisa and McGregor or Lisa with Drake, the kindly but handsome English doctor. And there’s a huge presence of people who write stories and want Tommy and Fred together or even Tommy and MacGregor.”
“Oh, yes. The book about the cowboys. Never saw the movie, but the book was not bad. I recommend it. The stories are essentially scripts, perhaps? Or versions, continuations of the general story arcs? So, these people would be fans of the show they’re writing for, yes? And since very few shows are actually reality, writing additional branches to these arcs would be fiction. So, I should assume ‘fanfic’ is actually an abbreviation of ‘fan fiction.’ Does that make sense to you?”
“Exactly, Ziva,” Tony remarked, wondering why she was talking it to death. “The cowboys.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Best damn forbidden love story this century and you mention the cowboys.”
“Well, that is what they were, were they not?” Ziva laughed at his frustrated expression.
Tony eyed McGee. “What do you think about fanfiction, McClancy? Does it bug you that people want Tommy and Lisa together?”
“It bugs me when people take a perfectly good story and massacre it. Yeah, there are some that are pretty good. Nice plot, well written. But most are just…just…awful! Massive grammar and spelling errors, big, BIG holes in the plot, just…gah. Don’t get me started. New topic,” Tim begged.
Tony grinned, clapping a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Sorry, McHemmingway.” Tony leaned in close, whispering into Tim’s ear now. “I bet you’re a Fred and Amy shipper, aren’t ya? The old hardened man and the younger whimsical woman.”
Yeah, some of them were written terribly, but there were a few good ones out there. Tony’d discovered a few and had them on his author alert.
Tim had to lift an eyebrow at the way Tony talked about the ships. Seemed his partner knew quite a bit about the fanfic world. Interesting. Deciding to test that, he said, “Maybe, but I bet you’re more of a Fred and Tommy shipper, maybe even a McGregor and Tommy.” Too late, Tim realized what he’d said.
Tony gulped hard, eyeing McGee. “Not interested in Fred and Tommy,” he said after a few moments. There was no way he was touching the McGregor and Tommy comment. It could only cause problems. And if McGee ever found the names of the authors on his author alert…
“Um…yeah,” Tim said, not wanting to keep that topic of conversation going. It was too dangerous.
“Ducky, I believe the boys have talked themselves into a place they do not wish to be, yes?” Ziva said laughing.
Ducky arched a brow. “There is nothing wrong with reading a bit of homoerotic fiction, you know. It does not impact a heterosexual man’s masculinity at all. Not that sexuality has anything at all to do with masculinity. Why, one time I was treating a royal marine, very…what was it you’d said? He man? Anyway, his boyfriend was the sweetest young man, about ten years his junior. They didn’t work in the same division and they were both quite masculine men. Somewhat like McGregor and Tommy. So if you plan to go that way, Timothy, do it with the understanding that not only is there quite an audience for it, but that nobody will look at you any differently if that is the way the characters wish to be created. You are, after all, a slave to your muse.”
Tony gulped. Every word Ducky said made him want to crawl in a deeper hole, but he bravely stood his ground, even if he never lifted his eyes from it.
“McBrokeback can write whatever he wants. Anyone who doesn’t read it is an idiot.”
“I’ll…uh…take that into advisement, Ducky. Though I never really thought of it going that way…” Tim stumbled through. “Thanks, Tony. Really. I appreciate it.” He’d never thought Tony would be a big supporter of his books; he’d always given Tim a hard time.
Tony shrugged, knowing his face was really red. “Any time, Probie.” He snickered inwardly at the double entendre there.
Crisis averted, Ducky turned his attention back to Ziva. “And speaking of real world sorts of dating partners and my darling warrior here, you are an enigma, dear girl.”
Confused, Ziva asked, “How so, Doctor? I would think that I am pretty much a simple person to figure out.”
“Only if someone looks at you on a single level,” Tony retorted. “For a sparring partner rather than a lover.”
Ducky paused for a long moment. “My dear, if he isn’t a worthy enough partner, telephone me if you might like to explore things with an older gentleman.” Even though Ducky knew he wasn’t her type, he had to mention that. He knew she had an attraction for men at least a bit older, and she sometimes flirted with Director Morrow, but he was elder even to the director and was essentially old enough to be the Mossad officer’s father.
Feeling a little foolish for his diversion, he ducked into the autopsy suite, grabbing some Scotch instead of a sweater. “Thought we could warm up in a more inviting way.” As he passed Ziva, he made it a point to give her a slow smile. She was a wise investigator and could connect the dots.
“You better be careful, Ducky. Someday, I may take you up on that offer.” Ziva laughed warmly as she waited for him to return. When he smiled at her in an almost inviting way, Ziva found herself reevaluating the doctor. He was a charming, sophisticated man, completely opposite of the men she usually ended up with. Intriguing, she thought.
“In the elevator?” Tim quipped. He’d been drunk in odd places before, but an elevator? That’d be a new one.
Ducky chuckled. “If you insist, my dear boy, but I can think of more favorable places to drink it. But not better company to drink it with.” He looked over at Ziva again before sliding his glance away. He was probably coming on a bit strong now. He looked at his Scotch longingly and tried to relax with his younger colleagues.
Still a bit confused, Tim asked, “Where do you suggest we go then, Ducky? Are we staying here? I don’t know if that’s a wise move, drinking at headquarters. Can we leave? We could go to someone’s place. Maybe even grab our food before we leave.”
Ducky sighed. “I suspect we’re being kept here for a reason, perhaps myself to watch over the prisoner cum FBI agent and you all to give reports and statements of what happened. We can always return to Autopsy if you don’t want to take a chance on being discovered. Though we all know Mike himself enjoys a tipple on occasion. As long as we don’t get drunk, nobody would dare say anything.”
Tony took the bottle and poured a little into the cap, savoring it. “Good taste in Scotch, Duckman. As long as we stay focused, we should be fine. Been a long night for all of us and we’re strung out.”
“Then Autopsy it is, Ducky. Can someone push the button so we can get the doors opened? I know you and Ziva have some interesting information to share about what went down in Observation.” Tim was beyond curious, painfully so, to find out what really had happened between Abby and the FBI agent.
“Ah yes, it was a very interesting event there. In there, I mean.” Ducky punched the button and they all tumbled out. “Yes, yes, very interesting indeed, young Timothy.” Ducky gave Ziva an embarrassed smile. “Timothy, can you send Cynthia a message letting her know that we’ll be down here and the food can be delivered here or you and Anthony can go collect it.”
He led them inside and motioned them into his inner office where a small table and four chairs resided. Propping the large metal door open, he invited them to sit down and relax.
“Oh, I’m sure we can go get it. She’s done enough today without having to deliver food to us. What do you think Tony?” Tim asked, watching Ziva take a seat.
“Yeah, sure,” Tony agreed. “What’re you drinking, Ducky? Beside the Scotch. Water? Soda? Caf-Pow? We can hit the vending machines as well. You want a Coke, Ziva?”
“A bottled water would be wonderful, Anthony. Shall I put the kettle on while we’re waiting?” Ducky asked, directing his question to Ziva.
“Tea will be wonderful, Ducky.” Looking at Tony, she called, “Water, Tony. Thank you.”
Ducky nodded, putting his electric kettle on and filling it with his last bottled water. “English Breakfast or Earl Grey, my dear? You boys don’t want any, do you?”
“I’ll pass, Duck, thanks though,” Tony said.
“Me too, Ducky. Soda or Caf-Pow will be fine,” Tim added.
“Though we may be close to breakfast by the time of day, it is still evening to me. I will go with the Earl Grey, Ducky. Thank you.”
Turning to Tony, McGee asked, “Think we should get Abby one? Don’t want her to think we’ve forgotten her.”
“She’s got the two liter, she’ll be fine,” Tony assured, motioning toward the hall and jerking his head toward it with an exaggerated glance to Tim. “We’re gonna exit, stage left for now.”
Ducky watched the younger men leave and nodded in appreciation. “Great choice, Ziva. Earl Grey is my favorite. Do you take it with cream or sugar?” Ducky bustled around, preparing the tea before looking over his shoulder at her. “I’m delighted to have you in my lair, my dear.”
“I take it as it is, Doctor. Nothing added.” She laughed at his description of his office. “Your lair, huh? Do you entice unsuspecting women here to have your way with them?” she teased.
“Only the beautiful ones,” he shot back, adding a splash of cream to his own tea and bringing them both over to the table. He sat beside her, watching her casually, trying to study and analyze her expression. “Do you think I’m discerning, a man of good taste and breeding?”
Picking up her cup, Ziva blew at the steam rising from the dark liquid and responded, “I think you are first and foremost a gentleman, Ducky. Since I do not know your family history, I can only guess as to your breeding.” Taking a sip of her tea, she added, “But your taste in teas is exquisite.”
“Then I would never lure unsuspecting women to my lair. They’d always suspect and come willingly,” he replied, flirting with her with ease. “Double bergamot Earl Grey, Ziva. Premium taste and quality for a true lady.”
“From a true gentleman,” she acknowledged with a raise of her cup.
He toasted her silently, regarding her with a small smile playing over his lips. “This FBI agent intrigues you. Why?”
“I do not know, Ducky. There is something about me that recognizes the fighter in him, almost like a kinship. That is the best way I can explain it.”
Ducky nodded, sipping slowly. “And your gut says that he is a noble fighter and not someone who will take unfair advantage of our Abigail?”
“Yes, my gut is saying just that. I do not see him as the type of person who would take advantage of someone he has a connection with like he has with Abby.”
“Do you think it is a real connection then and not something manufactured by their unique circumstances, Ziva? You would be in the best position to know, having been undercover many a time in your history. Is the connection real for its own merits or simply manufactured by the situation and the adrenaline rush of being undercover?”
“I have seen the two of them together; I have seen Abby’s reaction after her first encounter. No, this is not something easily attributed to the situation, Ducky. And yes, I have been undercover in more compromising positions than this, and there was never that kind of connection.”
Ducky nodded. “Then I hope he’s very good for her, Ziva. I think she needs someone, that she is through with being alone, lonely. If this man can give her what she needs, that connection will be mutually beneficial for both of them. I did hear, as you well did, that the poor man suffered quite the tragedy. A wife and daughter lost, wasn’t it? Perhaps they both long for the connection they’ve found tonight.”
He sipped his tea and leaned back, watching her, studying her.
“I can only hope that their new relationship, or whatever it may be, can fill the holes in both of them. Abby has been searching for so long. And that contact, of being whole with someone has been so absent from her life. Despite her cheerful disposition and her energy, there is always something so sad behind her eyes. Until today. Until she had a highly…erotic run-in with another undercover agent.”
Ducky nodded. She had seen the change in Abby as well. “That look exists in all of our team’s eyes. And yours, my dear. I do hope that you’ll be able to let your guard down and let some lucky man in. Being alone in our line of work is neither fun nor soul satisfying. Having someone there in the good days and the bad is most necessary, Ziva. I despair of you and Timothy and Tony and Mike being alone.”
He realized he was starting to sound like a mother hen and trailed off.
“And you, Ducky? Do you not wish for the same? To have someone there for you when you return home? You have one of the more difficult jobs here, dealing with the dead, and often the victims. How come you have no one at home?”
He watched her for long moments, trying to find the right words, in an uncharacteristically quiet moment. “Since Mother passed on, I haven’t had any interest, Ziva. Dating can be so tedious, even for someone who enjoys the gift of gab like me. When one gets to a certain level, and with our job experience and the hours we keep…” He trailed off, sighing. “It takes a special woman, a rare breed indeed.”
Hearing the pain in his voice, Ziva knew he missed his mother, despite the craziness she sometimes interjected into his life. She leaned over and grabbed one of his hands in hers. “And I am sorry for that, Ducky. She was a lovely woman. I am sure you miss her. But you are not old enough to sit around that big lonely house alone. You deserve someone who will make you happy. And I hope someday you will let yourself find that person.”
“I hope I will, my dear,” he replied, squeezing her hand lightly. “When one cares for a person for so many years, it does leave a void even if the end is expected, and in some ways, is a blessing.” For many years, Ducky had cared for his mother and now that she was gone, there was a huge adjustment to make.
“And what about you? Such a beautiful woman to be wasting away with only work and fitness and martial arts training. Have you anyone special in mind? Maybe Anthony or even Timothy?”
A shadow passed over her eyes as she remembered the one who was supposed to have been. “It is not wasted time, Ducky. It is necessary for me to always be ready, no matter the situation. My training helps to guarantee that. Tony and Tim? Not likely. Our ships are not likely to pass in the night, Doctor.”
“And it is necessary that you be fulfilled in all aspects of your life, Ziva. Your warrior skills are wasted if you don’t apply them to all aspects of your life.” He wondered for a moment what she meant with regard to Tony and Tim but then decided to just ask.
“What do you mean about Tony and Tim, Ziva? Do you not feel that they’re worthy of you or that you are not worthy of them? They’re two very handsome men, perhaps not the warriors one might expect you to be with…”
Ducky found himself trailing off as he regarded her.
“Oh not at all Ducky. They are both wonderful men. But I have had an emotional relationship with someone I was partners with, like I am partners with Tim and Tony. It did not…end well.” Ziva was not one to discuss many aspects of her life that had helped to shape her, good or bad. Though with Ducky, she seemed to be able to open up more effortlessly. Something about the doctor put her at ease.
Ducky squeezed her hand gently then came around to wrap her in his embrace, his hand stroking through her dark hair for one moment before pulling away. “Make no mistake, Ziva. That was for my benefit rather than yours, my dear.” He sat close to her, touching her knee with his. “I am sorry to hear that, my dear. And I understand your reasons for hesitating.”
She wasn’t usually used to overt expressions of affection, well other than from Abby of course, but getting a hug from Ducky was surprisingly comfortable. When he pulled back, she leaned back in her chair. Shrugging her shoulder, she took a sip of her tea instead of answering.
And this made her very uncomfortable. That much was clear to Ducky. He nodded in comprehension, not saying a word but just observing her. She had no idea that she revealed even more than she thought she was hiding with her evasive techniques and motions. He wasn’t fooled by the conflict he saw on her face and in her eyes. She longed to have a romantic partner; she just wasn’t sure how to go about getting the one she wanted.
“Who is he?” Ducky asked. “And does he have any idea?”
“There is no ‘he,’ Ducky, not any longer. More like an idea, a hope of someone in the past,” she said cryptically. “I just do not trust others excessively, which makes it difficult to allow anyone into my life that did not begin by necessity.”
“I understand, my dear. And I’m very sorry that there is nobody for you. You are a very worthy and beautiful woman, my dear. I hate to think of you withering away. You need someone with whom you can be real, someone who will love you as you deserve to be loved and someone you can be vulnerable with.”
“Do you think I am withering away, Ducky?” she asked, looking down at her body. “I would think that my physique is a prime example of a woman’s body.”
Ducky took a good long look and gave her a smile that was complete masculine approval. “I meant your soul, Ziva. Your physique is as perfect as any I’ve seen.”
“Why thank you, Doctor,” she said, giving him a smile of her own. “But do not worry, my soul is intact.”
“But it is lonely, Ziva. I can see it in your eyes. When was the last time you let a man in? Was it the one who was lost?” Ducky was aware he was pushing but he couldn’t help it, he needed her to know that she was not alone, despite the way she closed herself off from others.
“You need love too, my dear girl.”
“Yes, I know, Ducky, and it is lonely. But best to be lonely than in a position where something of myself is lost. And I do have love in my life. I have my friends, who enrich my life with enough love…for now.”
He regarded her for a few long moments, nodding but not pushing beyond that. He had been where she was once upon a time and all the advice in the world wouldn’t have changed his world view.
~*~
In mere moments, before she fully realized what was happening, Abby was left alone in the hallway with Jet, who was indeed devouring her. Clutching him to her, she was almost afraid of letting go, afraid someone would interrupt them again.
Jet took her hair down and tangled his hands in it, his body pressing against hers, causing her to bend backward slightly as he kissed her hard and passionately. When he finally came up for air, his breathing was ragged and his thighs were cramped. His entire body was coiled and he was fighting the urge to grind against her, to see how far he could push her and how responsive to him she was.
“I need you,” he whispered against her mouth. He knew his mouth had to be as smeared with the remnants of her lipstick as hers was and if his eyes had that hazy look like hers did, they were both in trouble.
“I want you and I need you, Abby. This isn’t over, is it?”
Now that she’d been with her friends, her feelings might have changed…
When he released her mouth, her breath came out in desperate gasps, her chest heaving from the adrenaline coursing through her blood. Rubbing one of her legs against him, needing to feel more, to drive them both further, she gasped, “Not over. God no! Not by a very long, long shot.” Bent back like she was, Abby clutched at his shoulders, but more from desire than from necessity.
Her black hair cascading over her shoulders and behind her back, she let one hand creep up and run through his silver hair, her nails scraping lightly at his scalp. Against his lips, she returned, “I need you, Jet. My body is screaming for you.” To show him, Abby arched against him, needing to feel his passion against her moist heat.
“God…” She was going to be his undoing. In a desperate bid for control, as misguided as it was, he turned her around so that her back was to him, his mouth moving over her neck, hard cock grinding against her ass and both hands on her, one squeezing a breast and rubbing a hard nipple through both her bra and T-shirt and the other slipping up her thigh, but not quite touching her core yet. He’d save that for when they were alone.
“Mine,” he whispered against her earlobe, knowing they had to stop, that there were cameras all around them.
“Yes, Jet. Yours,” she gasped, as he spun her around. He was grinding against her from behind, hands torturously moving over the most sensitive parts of her body. And how he knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, where to bite that would drive her absolutely crazy, she couldn’t figure out.
Instead, she moved against him, her ass rubbing against the rigid cock pressed into her. Her head falling backward onto his shoulder, she tried to give him better access, groaning, “I want you take me, Jet. Right here. Later. I don’t care. But I need to feel your body against mine. It doesn’t seem to matter that I don’t know you at all. My body knows you. My soul knows you.”
“Not here. Someplace where we can be alone. Without cameras. And not like overgrown teenagers groping each other.”
Seeing the wisdom in that, Abby couldn’t help but retort, “But it’s so much fun to live a little dangerously. Don’t ya think?”
He laughed. “Don’t you think we’ve lived dangerously enough today?” He motioned to his face and then trailed a finger over her throat.
“Not the kind of danger I’m craving all of a sudden.” Even though her body shook under his touch, when he motioned to his face, the sight of his earlier beating served to bring her a bit back to reality.
It took supreme effort before Jet wrenched himself away, panting, cock so hard it grossly distended the front of his pants. He felt like he was a wild animal controlled by lust and need and hunger.
“Kind of danger that sometimes follows me,” he told her. “Especially on an op like this one. I don’t know that you’re prepared.”
“You better know now rather than later that I’m a fan of danger, Jet. I happen to enjoy living on the edge. What would I need to do to be prepared?” She’d already gone so far to ensure her part of the investigation. And now she was worried, with good reason perhaps, that the powers that be might see her reaction to Jet as a weakness in her ability to continue to work on the op.
He sighed, decided to be blunt and honest with her. “Maybe this time you bit off more than you can chew, Abby. They want to talk to you, want to bring you in on the op. Deep, deep undercover, leaving your work and world and family behind… For god knows how long. They want us to work both ops. Together.”
Cynthia silently fanned herself, watching from the alcove, unseen. She was going to have so much to tell Mellody tonight. These two were on fire and she just hoped nobody got burned. Unable to help herself, she walked toward the elevator, knowing someone was taping this and that she’d have to do damage control before it got onto the NCIS network.
“Abby! How are you?”
Abby had stumbled a bit when Jet had let her go, but quickly righted herself and turned around when she heard her name. “Cynthia?” she squeaked in surprise. “I didn’t know anyone was there…I, um…I…” She really didn’t know what to say, having been caught making out with Jet like a pair of randy teenagers.
“It’s a good thing someone was,” Cynthia said, clear annoyance in her voice. It was the only way to deal with what she’d seen. She couldn’t admit that she wanted a silver-haired man like that one, roguish and bruised, or maybe one with eben less hair and a low, sexy voice. “Perhaps you should do your audio-visual magic before everyone sees what I have on the NCIS network.” Almost of their own volition, Cynthia’s eyes trailed down Abby’s body and focused on her hardened nipples and then the massive bulge in the man’s pants that the hands he jammed in his pockets couldn’t hide.
“I’m waiting for the food,” she explained lamely.
Jet saw the woman watching them and stepped slightly in front of Abby, protecting her. “Was that a threat? Were you threatening her?”
“No,” Cynthia said, gasping at the malice in his voice. “Just warning her. You guys shouldn’t have… Not here…” She waved her hand, looking at Abby for help.
“Easy, Jet. Easy. Cynthia’s a friend. She didn’t mean anything by it. She was only trying to help.” Abby pulled back on his arm, trying to focus his attention on her, though she was strangely touched and turned on even more by his need to protect her. “She was only trying to warn me, to warn us, about who could be watching, about who could be walking up on us. I want to be with you, Jet, but not in the middle of a hallway with cameras on our every move.”
Gibbs half turned, nodding. “All right. I…” He shook his head and took a couple of steps away, digging his hands into his hair and fighting to calm his body down. He signed that he was giving her time with her friend and looked at the window at the river.
She bit her lip as she watched him walk away, wondering if he was having a hard time coming out of his undercover persona. She’d seen Mike and Tony acting like caged animals after being pulled off an undercover op suddenly. Knowing he’d have to return to that world only too soon, she looked at Cynthia, “I can’t alter the video feed, Cynthia, you know that. It’s a federal crime and I’d rather keep my job. I’ll just have to tell Morrow, see if he’ll remove it. Or at least help make sure it doesn’t spread. Can you help me with that? To make sure it doesn’t go viral?”
“I’ll talk with him too, Abby. Be careful, please. I don’t want you in the gossip network.” Cynthia glanced over at him. “I assume that he is the reason why the director of the FBI is here.” She gave Abby a gentle hug. “Be careful. That man looks like he could make you commit murder without either of you blinking. I’ve never seen you like this, Abby. I’m worried. You’re shaking…”
“Cyn, I’ve been in the gossip network since the first day I started here,” Abby laughed, trying to make light of something that had been painful before. She loved how she dressed; her clothes reflected her personality. But it had been painful to hear her coworkers mock her, though she may make fun of it now. “And you’d be shaking too, Cynthia, if he had grabbed you and kissed you like that. Trust me.”
“Yeah but not with your own sex tape. I know all the Hollywood starlets have them but that doesn’t mean my friend Abby needs one.” Cynthia remembered how the gossip network had been all aquiver once Director Morrow hired Abby just out of her master’s program. But everyone had grown to respect her and this was not going to impact that. Cynthia would work double time to make sure it didn’t.
With Cynthia’s comments, Abby felt so grateful. Grabbing the woman to her in a fierce hug, she whispered, “Thank you, Cynthia.”
She chuckled nervously, looking at Abby. “Who is he? He’s not your usual type…”
Looking over at the man in question, she almost giggled, saying, “Oh, I know he isn’t. And that makes it kinda exciting too. His name’s Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Jet . He’s undercover with the FBI. I guess we were running undercover ops at the same time. And things just kinda exploded. Which caused a few problems. I mean, you saw an explosion just now. But he’s a good man, I know he is.”
Holding up her hand, she stopped her friend from interrupting. “I know what you’re going to say. ‘How could I possibly know someone I didn’t even know existed more than a few hours ago?’ And you’d be right. Except…I just know. My gut, Cyn. My gut is telling me that he’s someone I can trust. Plus, the Director of the FBI vouched for him. And that’s no small thing.”
Cynthia shook her head and shrugged. “I have no room to be throwing stones, Abby.” Abby knew about her completely inappropriate crush on a coworker and they both were aware that it would never happen.
“Please! No one’s throwing stones. You doing okay with all that?” She was concerned for her friend. Crushing on someone who impossibly out of reach was generally painful.
“Not all agents are good men, Abby. Be careful, honey. He looks like he’s very commanding and in control.”
“Oh I know, Cynthia, and I’ll be careful. And honesty, I don’t mind the commanding in him. It’s kinda nice to be able to say for sure that I’m the girl in the relationship, you know?”
Cynthia shrugged, angling them away from the cameras so that their lips couldn’t be read. “He doesn’t wear his ring any more, and his wife screamed at me when I phoned her earlier. Security has stopped letting her in. But he’s still married to her and I won’t be the cliché, Abby.”
Cynthia knew exactly what Abby meant. So many of her boyfriends and dates had been metrosexual and not at all commanding. She hankered for a leader. “You’re lucky…he seems like quite a man.”
“I’m so sorry, Cynthia, but I understand not wanting to be the other woman. That’s not any kind of place you deserve to be. I hope this works out in the best way for you.” Dragging her eyes over to the man, she whispered, “Yes, yes he is.”
“It’s hard working so close, spending so many hours with him,” she said with a sigh. Cynthia, Ziva, and Abby spent some quality time together, usually with Chinese or pizza. She was saddened that their time as three single women seemed to be over. Something had changed and Cynthia could see it.
“He makes you burn, doesn’t he?” Cynthia asked wistfully.
Hearing the wistful sound to her voice, Abby tore her eyes away from Jet. Cynthia looked sad all of a sudden and Abby didn’t fight the urge to hug her forcefully again.
“Don’t worry, Cyn. It’s all going to work out. But don’t wait around for him. You deserve someone who can be with you, now. Not someone who makes you wait around. You’re too gorgeous and amazing for that.”
Sighing, Abby continued, “Yeah, he does make me burn. Slowly. Quickly. Like lava and a forest fire, all in one. I don’t understand it.” Giving her friend a cheeky smile, she finished, “But I sure am liking it.”
“It sounds like he is pretty special, Abby. You tell me if he gives you any trouble, okay? I know people…” Cynthia winked at her friend. “It’s hard, you know, when someone means so much to you. Mellody and I are going out to dinner but our cells will be on…you call me if you want to talk or anything. And make sure mine doesn’t stay up all night subsisting on coffee and adrenaline.” She sighed, knowing that she would stop back before she went home, just in case Tom needed anything.
“He is, Cynthia. I’m not sure why, but he is special to me. But I’m kinda eager to find out why.” She laughed lightly, smiling at her. “I’m sure you do, lady, I’m sure you do. And I will, on both counts. When I have a free moment, when this is over, I will call you. I promise.”
“You’d better,” Cynthia shot back.
~*~
Director Martin Fletcher reached for the folder of Gibbs’ painful past. “Let my man, Tobias here, coordinate with your agents, Tom. Maybe he’ll see something they haven’t. If your girl agrees, I’ll have my agents bring over our case files. We can’t continue to keep Jet here for an extended period of time, too much of a chance for his cover to be compromised. We’ll install him in a suite somewhere with a couple of agents.”
“Don’t like sharing,” Mike growled, looking at Morrow, wondering if his boss’ anger at him was going to make him end up leaning more toward the FBI’s wants and needs rather than NCIS’. He wasn’t going to lose his op to a turf war.
Ignoring Mike’s kindergarten comment about not liking to share, Morrow wanted to clear a few points of his own. “I’d prefer it if Franks and Fornell headed the joint operation, despite my agent’s earlier behavior. Otherwise, I have no problems with bringing Tobias into the fold. I don’t see any reason for Abby to not agree. And if she does stay on in her undercover capacity, where do you expect her to go? In what capacity is she going to enter with your agent?””
“Franks and Fornell it is.” Martin wouldn’t give Fornell any chance to object, and he knew damn well that in Fornell’s shoes he’d be yelling out that he wasn’t interested. Martin’s mind started working.
“We need to see who your girl spoke to tonight. How airtight is her identity? Could we form a new one for her? Jet is in deep. I don’t think he’s seen his house, his bank accounts, or even his driver’s license in over a year. I intend to keep it that way. Abby couldn’t just come here to work and then go off to parties at night. There is no way I’d authorize my boy to be put in that dangerous a situation. They’ll need to set up shop somewhere, apartment rental, someplace, maybe near where my man is. If you want to bring a couple of your agents along, we can do that as well. Personal assistants. Business associates. Those things can always be explained away. But the wrong person seeing the gorgeous girl they saw at the White House one night pulling in to the Navy Yard the next could be the death of my man.”
Tom turned to his senior agent. “Franks, you’re the one best able to answer that. Other than McGee who escorted her in and Gibbs, who did Abby have any contact with? Was her identity well established? Or can we do what Fletcher suggests? I agree that it would not be safe for either of them, to have Abby return to NCIS during the day. This may need to be a complete undercover operation for her as well. I would suggest McGee and Tony as the backup agents. They have both served undercover as support personnel for a major op. Having them in as hotel employees, bellhops, hosts at restaurants should work again. McGee’s presence would also help to enable us a way of searching out bugs or wire taps.”
“Damned if I know. Ask the girl. McGee and DiNozzo lost sight of her and I only had audio and not visual. She set her own ID up and she’s good. Damned good.”
Mike didn’t like this idea one bit. “You’re breaking apart my team and leaving me and Ziva to do all the leg work here? On two ops? Am I understanding that right?” Mike knew that McGee and DiNozzo wouldn’t be able to go back and forth as well.
“If she had spoken with someone, wouldn’t you have been able to hear?” Tobias commented sarcastically. “If she’s that good, will it hinder adding her as a partner to Gibbs’ undercover work? I know she’s the one who set it up, but do you believe she’s good enough with the FBI’s help to be able to dig her undercover persona in deeper?”
“Damned if I know,” Mike snapped back. “And yeah. We didn’t have audio on her speaking with anyone else.” Her mic had been garbled by the necklace but he wouldn’t admit that. “But how do I know who saw her or whose eye she caught?”
“Mike,” Morrow warned, reining in his attitude. “We’re trying to work cooperatively, you two. Do try and extend that to this meeting. And Mike, it is not a farfetched idea to think that the head of an operation might know that information. And if you don’t, perhaps McGee, David or DiNozzo do, maybe even Gibbs. We’ll have to have a debriefing of them, including Abby, of what happened prior to the crash of our two agents.”
Returning to Mike’s previous concern, Morrow sought to explain further, “You and Ziva will not be running two ops alone, though I am sure you could handle it if I asked. No, you will have Agent Fornell and possibly Sacks, I’m assuming.” He looked to Fletcher for confirmation.
“Four people for two ops,” Mike muttered, shaking his head.
“Tobias,” Martin said quietly. “Dial it back. I need you focused.” He paused for a beat and then looked at Tom. “Tom will keep me informed but you need to answer to Director Morrow as if he were your immediate superior. He’ll keep me informed throughout the operation. But he and I won’t tolerate pissing contests or turf wars. You both understand this, as senior agents. I hope…”
“Yes, Boss,” Fornell answered, knowing cooperation was important to the success of the dual mission.
“Good,” Morrow replied. “The less piss I have to do deal with the better. And you’ll be piped in directly to MTAC to keep you updated on all aspects, Martin.”
“Don’t like it,” Mike shot back. “But fine. Fine. Whatever you two guys want, we’ll do. But I’m not running Ziva ragged. Won’t do it, won’t happen.” He turned to Fornell. “And you better be able to keep up.”
Martin rolled his eyes at the antics of the agents jockeying for position. He and Tom were beyond that, the agencies coexisted well together. “I know, Tom. I appreciate it.” His stomach let out a rumble and he chuckled. “Food should be here soon. Food then debriefing, going to be a late night, men.”
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