OMG, scousemus1c, I did it! I posted my fic. Hope you like it, guys. I'm gonna need your support on this one. It's the longest I've posted as of yet. And remember it's set before Flesh and Blood. Sometime season five, I guess. Hope you'll enjoy.
/Belker
Chapter one
Tony huddled in his jacket. It was cold and his body was trembling, and the wet jacket didn't do much to change that fact, but he figured he would be just as freezing without it. So he huddled.
Ice cold water dripped from his hair into his eyes and he wished for the hundredth time that he'd brought his cap. Swiping irritably over his face from time to time, he hoped the infuriating rain would stop already. But he stayed where he was. He didn´t move. Just waited.
"DiNozzo!"
"Boss?"
"You up for a stake out?"
"Always, Boss", he grinned excitedly.
That was last week. That was before he knew.
He was waiting for her, and he did it well; the 'waiting' thing. He had once overheard Gibbs in the bullpen: 'May not believe it, McGee, but I don't know anybody who can wait like DiNozzo can'.
He wondered levelly if the boss knew why he was such a patient man in situations like this. In spite of Gibbs' great investigative skills, Tony would say that - no, he didn't have a clue as to why his SFA had this deftness. Because Gibbs had never met Tony's father.
He shifted position slightly, and violent shivers all but made his knees buckle. He glared at the door that would reveal the target of his boss' - and thereby his - interest, willing it to open. In an effort to make his teeth stop chattering, he clenched his jaw hard and in doing so caught the tip of his tongue. The sharp sting was a sudden reminder of past times when he had stayed out in the rain. It usually involved some kind of physical pain as well.
Great memories, those. He forced his mind onto another path. Wet T-shirt contests. Hot showers. Laura in Accounting. Cold showers.
Then there she was; the target. His mission. A tall brunette, wearing an impeccably tasteful outfit and an air of caution. She peered through the front door of the hotel, frowning at the pelting rain. Obviously turning down the doorman's offer to hail her a cab, she produced and unfolded an umbrella before stepping out into the street, avoiding the larger puddles.
He let her walk halfway down the block before moving out of the alley. Tall as he was, Tony could still resemble a lurking shadow if he wanted to be inconspicuous.
The streets were all but empty due to the downpour, which suited him perfectly. He tailed her for three blocks and then, as she stopped momentarily to peek through a store window, he made his move and slid up next to her.
"You could never afford those Jimmy Choos", he said lightly, making her turn her head.
She eyed him; not suspiciously or surprised as he would have thought, but with great amusement evident on her face. Was that a smirk gliding over her lips?
"You would know, with a cop's salary", she said unmoved, and turned to look at the beautiful shoes again.
He had underestimated her. Again. She'd probably known from the start that he was following her. He snorted a laugh. "I'm not a cop anymore. Federal agent, nowadays. Government property."
"Wow, that's great", she said, with what he believed to be genuine warmth. She looked him in the eye and smiled. A real smile this time. "That's really great, Tony."
"Thanks, Moira. Heard you aren't doing too bad yourself. Well, for a high school drop out, that is…"
They both smirked at shared memories for a second, then stared at the window again.
"Sooo…" She caught his eye via the reflection, all amusement gone from her face. "Why are you following me, Mr. Federal Agent?"
He took a moment, then huffed slightly. "My boss made me." No more. He gave her no more than that.
She just nodded as if she understood, thoughtfully biting her lip, looking down on the water soaked tarmac. "Just following orders, huh?"
"Yes."
"You going to arrest me?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Whether you have anything to do with Eric Hunter, or not." He caught her cringe from the corner of his eye.
"Eric Hunter", the Director said with a touch of steel in her voice, as she put a picture up on the plasma in MTAC. "Our liaison in Mossad tells us he's the one behind the shipping of weapons - US Navy weapons - to enemy lines in Iraq."
"Nice guy", Tony commented.
"No. No, he's not." Jenny glowered at the picture. "He is however a new face to us. He wasn't even a blip on our radar before Mossad got us this new intel. This is a bomb waiting to blow, gentlemen."
"What do you want me to do this time, Jenny?"
Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Tony's straightforward question, but didn't comment.
"You will establish contact with Hunter's fiancée. She is, as far as we know, not involved in any of his affairs, but she is our best chance of getting in to his inner circle."
"How? What if she won't cooperate?" Tony asked warily.
"She will." The Director looked confident. "She's the head of the Detective Division in Baltimore PD as of last month. She's expected to become the new Deputy Police Commissioner when Barksdale retires. And she's here in DC next week on a conference."
Tony didn't flinch when the picture of Moira was put up on the screen, he just blinked once.
"What?!" Moira burst out, turning to him, seeking his eyes. "He's my fiancé, but I'm sure you already knew that by the way this conversation has turned out. Why are the feds interested in Eric?"
"Because he's an arms dealer and a murderer", Tony answered evenly, finally meeting her fiery gaze. She didn't believe him, he could tell.
"I won't have any of this crap!" She turned away from him, eyes blazing, chestnut hair flying. Tony stood calmly observing her. He knew she would come to her senses and listen to him. She was just too good a person to have any part in her fiancé's dirty business. Too good a cop.
She walked defiantly a couple of yards, then came to a halt with slumping shoulders, umbrella hanging useless by her side. She took a few deep breaths and spoke, without turning.
"I won't have any of it, Tony. Tell me it's not true." Her voice sounded so small.
He couldn't remember her ever sounding like that.
"Come on, DiNozzo, hustle!" Moira yelled at him. He ran faster and she fired a couple of rounds in the general direction of those store robbers that had him pinned. He came crashing down beside her, panting painfully, drawing his gun.
"What took you so long?" she grinned at him, eyes sparkling as she ducked the flying bullets.
"Moira…", he warned. "We're waiting for back-up this time!"
She just laughed in excitement and raised her gun again.
"It is true, Mo. I saw the intel myself. He's rotten to the core, and we think he's using you to access vital information from the Department." He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry."
"No, you're not." She drew a couple of deep breaths, walked a bit closer. "What do you want me to do?" The voice was shaky - the tone of determination wasn't. The self confident Moira he knew was back in control again. The self confident Moira he knew would never let it show that she'd just been devastated.
"We need information on Hunter and we need information on his contacts, especially those in Iraq", he said.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked again.
The self confident Moira he knew would want to get this bastard. Or die trying.
"Let's get inside", Tony prompted. "There's no one following you. Not today."
She raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't follow through with unnecessary questions. She eyed his wet jacket, his trembling body and the bluish tint to his lips and said; "Let's."
They walked in a rather brisk pace, the way they used to when they were prowling the same corridors down at the police station, looking for coffee or something to eat. She didn't ask him where they were going. She trusted him that much after all these years.
After a short walk, during which she noticed Tony scanning the area around them subtly but efficiently, they arrived at a small coffee shop.
"This will do", Tony muttered and opened the door for her. He ordered coffee and positioned himself facing the door. He didn't speak, and neither did she. The coffee arrived and he put both of his shaking hands around the mug, savoring the heat. He downed half the cup and sighed contently.
"How long have you been following me?" she asked him finally.
"Only the last couple of days", he said, looking at his reflection in the black coffee. She nodded silently. "How long have you known?" he countered.
"Just a few days or so", she smiled, and leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I haven't shuffled papers for that long, Tony."
He smiled back at her. He had missed her.
It took about fifteen minutes to fill her in on the meager, but very viable intel NCIS had obtained on Hunter. How Mossad agents had discovered that US Navy weapons were used in attacks on Israeli targets, suicide bombings and other unthinkable deeds. How their liaisons in Mossad painstakingly, and not without losses, had picked up a trace that led to a small American import-export business owned by Hunter's company. He told her about the pictures he had seen and about the few phone calls NCIS had managed to tap into and record. He told her a grim story about her lover and fiancé that she really didn't want to hear, but she didn't interrupt once, only nodded occasionally. Her face was ashen when he finished and her knuckles were white.
"So… there you have it", Tony said, playing with his empty coffee mug. "Do you believe it?" He didn't offer his sympathies. Didn't ask how she was holding up, or if she was okay. He didn't have to ask if her life had crumbled to dust around her, and she loved him for it.
"Yes, I believe you, Tony." After all, she always had. "Now, how does the NCIS think that I can help?"
He looked intently at her. "You know you don't have to do this, don't you? We can blow the whistle and pull you out now."
"Yeah", she snorted. "You won't have anything to pin on Eric, he walks and then I will have to get a new identity, lose my job, my life. Not to mention the blood that would be on my hands if I didn't try to stop this. No, Tony, I'm in all the way."
"Okay", was all he said to that. "I'll see to it that you get back safely to your hotel, and report to my Director. We'll contact you tomorrow. Just get to the lecture and someone will be there."
He let her go a block from her hotel, she squeezed his arm and he followed from a distance. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. As he watched her walk briskly down the street, he opened his cell and speed-dialed.
"Hey, Boss, it's me. I've made contact with the target. She'll do it… Yes… She seems like a good person."
Snapping the cell shut he let out an anguished sigh. This would not be easy. He hated lying to Gibbs.
TBC
Soo...What do you think? Does my OC work? More team Gibbs to come - promise!
