Thanks to my beta Kristen! This is the first of my Valentine's Day stories. It may be possible to tell that I dislike this day...
Erm, and I am useless at cars, so I am assuming that McGee's Porsche only has two seats. If this is not the case, I apologise now.
Valentine Kytes
Ziva David swerved to avoid another car. American roads were so strange. Everyone seemed to think the speed limit was something they should stick to, not simply a guide.
She was not even in her own car. McGee had lost the use of his Porsche to her for a week after their last case. He really should have known better to bet on her accuracy with a gun. She was an assassin, after all.
Tony had definitely enjoyed her winning the wager. It might have had something to do with her lover's appreciation of the finer things in life, especially cars, and the fact she had driven the both of them to work for the last few days in the car. Tony, being Tony, was crowing to everyone who would listen. And quite a few people who did not want to hear about it. Gibbs had informed Tony that if he heard one more word about the car, he was going to have it towed.
She sighed as she ran a red light. For once, she was running early, but she knew from experience that if she slowed down, she would never arrive on time. And she did not want to be late for this. Tony had arranged for a quiet little Valentine's Day dinner at a beautiful restaurant.
Ziva did not normally celebrate Valentine's Day. She did not see the point in spending a lot of money on a commercialized holiday. But Tony had whined and twisted her arm, and eventually persuaded her to come round to his way of thinking – Valentine's Day was a night to celebrate their relationship. And it was only one night a year…
She found herself smiling. She seemed to do that a lot more now she was with Tony. He made her laugh with his crazy antics, even when there were days when she wanted nothing more than to kill him with a paperclip chain. The flicker of panic in his eyes whenever she threatened his life always made her smile inwardly.
She had no idea why they just seemed to click together. He was American, Catholic, juvenile, and an ex-cop. She was Israeli, Jewish, more grown-up than Gibbs sometimes, and an assassin. Yet somehow they were perfect for each other. They completed each other flawlessly. She could no longer imagine life without him. She would prefer to give up oxygen first.
Her car was filled with giggles, and it took her a moment to realize that they were coming from her. They were a sound she was still not accustomed to, although she found herself to be happier than ever before. Tony loved it when she giggled. He always tried to make her giggle again, when he was not asking for certain death…
She slammed on the brakes, steering as carefully as she could to the side of the road. She had just seen a very familiar hearse, with a very familiar Goth standing outside it, kicking a wheel.
Abigail Scuito officially hated her hearse. It always broke down at the most inopportune moments! Like the time Gibbs had been in that explosion and she had been forced to get a cab…
She made herself take several deep breaths. Positive thoughts, positive thoughts, positive thoughts. Her mind was not going to cause anything to happen to Gibbs. Not tonight, of all nights. Today was Valentine's Day, and she had a funny feeling that Mommy and Daddy were going out for a nice meal somewhere. She wanted everything to go well for them.
Although her night was rapidly going downhill. Luckily, a screeching of tires had announced the arrival of Ziva. Hopefully, the Israeli would take her to where she needed to go.
She tottered over to the Porsche, after giving the tire another kick for good measure. "Ziva!" she squealed.
The Israeli smiled her greeting. By the look of her dress, she was on her way to her own meal with a special someone.
"My hearse got another flat," Abby continued. "It always does this. And I was on my way to a romantic meal with Timmy too. Is there any chance you could give me a lift?"
Ziva glanced at the clock on the dashboard before nodding. "Of course. Where would you like me to take you?"
The Goth smiled as she climbed into the car and gave directions to her chauffeur. She leant back in her seat and thought of the man she was racing to see.
Tim McGee was kind and romantic, and everything she had used to ignore in a man. There was something about the air of danger that drew her towards men. Timmy might be a federal agent, but she still saw him as the stuttering young agent who had wandered into her lab when he had been stationed at Norfolk. She could banter quite happily with him, and he kept her on her toes. He challenged her, as she challenged him.
She loved him. And much as she had never really thought about it before, she could see herself settling down with him. Even her parents would approve of him, although that might have more to do with them being used to an endless parade of slightly odd boyfriends they normally met. They would probably worship Timmy.
She forced herself not to giggle. Since when had she become so sappy and normal anyway? She had spent last Valentine's Day in a cemetery, at a very nice party. They had invited her back this year, but she had declined after Timmy had offered to take her out. She enjoyed being fussed over.
She wondered how he would be getting to the restaurant. Ziva had his car, and she had not given him a lift. Maybe he would get the Metro?
Someone ran in front of the car, and Abby found herself clinging to the dashboard as Ziva slammed on the brakes. What had just happened?
Jennifer Shepard was not in a good mood. The universe seemed to be conspiring against her today.
It had started off well. Gibbs had come into her office first thing in the morning, and actually waited for Cynthia to announce his presence. Jenny had initially suspected that this was due to him seriously pissing off another agency and needing her to smooth things over, but he had locked the door behind him and smirked at her. She was slightly surprised at his invitation for dinner, and had been starting to insist that he take her somewhere other than his basement or her study when he had given her the name of her favorite restaurant and a time before walking out again.
Sometimes he could be so sweet. And other times she wanted nothing more than to bash his head in.
Nevertheless, she had spent most of the morning with a big smile on her face. Until SecNav became interested in a case – thankfully not Jethro's – and she had been forced to spend the afternoon in MTAC with an increasingly irate boss. When she had finally managed to escape…
"Ziva, Abby," she greeted them, suddenly very glad she had decided to take her life into her own hands and run out across the road. Maybe everything would work out after all.
"Director," Ziva replied, while Abby gave her a huge grin.
Jenny moved round to Ziva's side. "I'm so sorry, but my town car is stuck in traffic," she explained. "I left my driver in the car and hopped out to get the Metro, but I seem to be lost. And at this rate, I'm going to be late for my meal with Jeth… Someone."
If it was possible, Abby grinned even more. She clapped her hands together in delight. "I knew Mommy and Daddy were back together," she squealed.
"Is there any chance of a lift?" Jenny almost begged.
Ziva thought about it for a moment. "There are no more seats free."
Jenny silently cursed her being in McGee's Porsche. Only two seats meant that there was only enough space for two people.
"But… you could hide in the trunk. If you do not mind."
Jenny thought for a second. She was fairly sure the restaurant was close by, and she wasn't claustrophobic. She could manage. "Thanks," she smiled.
Ziva popped the trunk and she climbed in carefully. It was nice and empty; she had half-expected McGee to be storing emergency supplies in there like a good boy scout. As the lid was closed, she took several deep breaths.
The car squealed as Ziva drove off, and Jenny grinned. She must be the only person in the world who was no longer afraid of the Israeli's driving. On the other hand, she still got nervous when Gibbs was behind the wheel, but there was something that made her trust Ziva.
She hoped they would remember to park the car somewhere dark before letting her out. Jethro would go crazy if he knew she was traveling around DC in this way. She smirked. Maybe she should tell him anyway. He might find it amusing.
In the darkness, she thought of her lover. Why had they wasted so many years apart when they were so perfect together? She felt drowsy, and gave in to the tug of sleep…
Ziva David wished her radio was on. She had turned it off after Abby had tried to find heavy metal music on other stations. As close as they were nowadays, she could not cope with listening to the Goth's music on a regular basis.
She liked driving with music. She liked singing at the top of her lungs while running red lights and ignoring stop signs. It just was not the same without it. It drove Tony mad, mainly because he seemed to be convinced that she was going to crash every two seconds. That was untrue: she was a careful driver. She had never crashed unintentionally and never intended to.
Only Jenny seemed to appreciate her driving. The redhead did not grip the car door handle like everyone else did, nor breathe a sigh of relief when she arrived, nor get out of the car, fall onto the sidewalk and refuse to get up. She had been forced to headslap Tony for that particular incident.
She put her foot down as she reached another junction, speeding across it to the blaring of car horns. She had to drop two people off at different restaurants before she could go to her own, which gave her right of way. She wished she had blue flashing lights; everyone would move out of her way then.
She heard a siren and glanced in her mirror. Damn! A traffic cop was right behind her, and had evidently seen her last maneuver. Swearing violently in Hebrew, she pulled over to the side of the road.
"Maybe if we smile nicely he'll let us go with a warning," Abby hissed, clearly not happy with this turn of events.
Ziva nodded, thinking furiously. If he tried to delay them for too long, she would deal with him in other ways.
The traffic cop glared at them, a notepad and pen in his hand. "You've been speeding for the last two miles," he growled. Ziva would have been scared if she had not worked with Gibbs for years. She was practically glare-proof. "And you just ignored a red light."
Ziva plastered a smile on her face. "I am so sorry, Officer," she simpered. "I am just in a bit of a rush."
The cop carefully looked over the car. "Can you pop the trunk for me?"
She felt panic rise in her chest. Opening the trunk would be a very bad idea. It would get them into a lot of trouble for sure. "I, erm…"
"We're in a bit of a rush," Abby piped up. "Could we just have our ticket?"
"Open the trunk," the cop ordered.
Sighing, Ziva did as she was told. "We can explain…"
She heard a curse from the cop, before a gun was pointed in her face. "Out of the car, now!" the cop yelled. "Hands where I can see them!"
They obeyed, unsure exactly what the problem was.
"You two are under arrest for kidnapping the Director of a federal agency," the cop continued, reaching for his radio to summon backup.
Ziva groaned. The one person who knew about NCIS was the one person who had found Jenny.
"Hey!" Abby objected. "We're not kidnapping her! We work for her. And she agreed to get in there."
The cop put his radio away. "Show me some ID then. And why is she drugged up?"
"She is a heavy sleeper," Ziva admitted. "I would be careful when you try to wake her up."
They slowly found their identification. "That's me," Abby pointed. "The photo isn't brilliant because that was a court day, but it's me."
The cop stared at it. "That's a fake," he declared, before turning to Ziva.
The Israeli felt confident that he could not dismiss her ID as easily. She was wrong.
"NCIS?" he read. "Never heard of it."
"But you know who she is!" Ziva argued. "She is the Director of NCIS."
"Not according to ZNN," the cop pointed out. "They show her a lot. And they say she's FBI. I've never heard of NCIS."
Leroy Jethro Gibbs stared through the bars of the cell at one of his agents and his lab tech. Someone was going to pay for this misunderstanding. He had actually looked forward to this Valentine's Day, after so many years, and it had all been ruined.
Although it wasn't his team's fault. He was going to kill the stupid cop who had never heard of NCIS. You thought you were finally used to it… and then someone else came along and refused to accept NCIS was a real agency.
He had just arrived at Jenny's favorite restaurant when his cell phone had gone off. Thinking his lover was simply stuck in traffic, he had answered. He had certainly not expected Abby on the line, or for her to ask him to sort everything out. Ziva had used her phone call to contact Tony, who seemed to have called McGee to joke about them both being stood up.
Next to him, Tony was chuckling away, amused at the whole incident, while McGee looked more nervous. Gibbs couldn't blame him; Ziva looked as though she was about to rip the bars apart with her bare hands before murdering Tony. The girls had faithfully reported everything to them, leaving Gibbs to explain the situation to the cop. Meanwhile, his senior field agent seemed to think it was a good idea to taunt an assassin.
He rolled his eyes. "Go," he ordered, opening the door. "All of you. Don't be late tomorrow," he warned at their retreating backs.
Running his hand across his forehead, he made his way to the interview room where the cops had left a sleeping Jenny. No one had been able to rouse her, which did not surprise Gibbs. The woman was capable of sleeping through an explosion. And even when she did wake up, she was normally very grumpy.
Opening the door, he stared at her for a few moments. She looked so peaceful that he felt it would be a crime to wake her. But he had managed to persuade the restaurant to find them another table, and he needed to get her there. Nervously, he shook her.
"Jen," he called.
She slumbered on.
"I bought coffee," he tried.
She groaned. "Coffee," she managed to mumble.
Biting back a chuckle, he waved his cup in front of her face. "Coffee," he confirmed.
She sat up, stretching slightly before rubbing her eyes. He held his tongue over how cute he found this; last time he had mentioned it, he had ended up with a black eye. He did not want to end up being plied with questions by a curious DiNozzo.
She reached out and stole his coffee. He let her take a few sips before he stole it back. She glared at him.
"We have reservations in fifteen minutes," he informed her.
She tried to work out a kink in her neck. Taking pity on her, he shifted so that he was behind her. He gently applied pressure to the sore spots, happily drinking in the soft sounds she made.
"Ready to go now, Sleeping Beauty?" he teased.
She slid off the table and took his proffered arm. "Why am I in a police station?" she asked, completely confused.
THE END