A/N - so thanks for the reviews and well - I couldn't delay their first meeting any longer... Enjoy
Part 4
Her first intimation that something was going on was when a guy in a loud Hawaiian shirt and dark shades collided with her in the hotel lobby. His apology was a lazy grin and a blatant perusal of her body that made her itch to see if he was still smiling when she introduced her knee to his groin. But there was nothing lazy about the sleight of hand by which he pressed a key card into her hand so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Jen was perfectly aware that Said was having her watched – she hadn't needed the prickle at the back of her neck as she left the house to tell her she was being followed. But she was still sure that he wasn't anymore suspicious of her than of the other people around him and she intended to keep it that way. But the key card in her hand and the room number inscribed on it was, she hoped, proof that help had arrived.
Either that or she was about to walk into an ambush.
With that in mind her gun was in her hand as she slid the key card into the slot, heard the click of the lock and pushed the door open.
"Shalom Jen," it was the sight of Ziva, the sound of her voice and her slight nod of reassurance that had her lowering her weapon.
"Shalom Ziva," as she kissed her cheek she whispered, "thank you," and felt her partner tighten her arm around her shoulder just for a moment. She stepped back and let her eyes travel to the two men in the room; Ziva followed her gaze and said in what might be a long-suffering tone.
"I think you've already met Agent DiNozzo," Jen raised an eyebrow at him remembering the way he'd looked at her and his smile in response was just a little abashed and far too charming for his own good. She could tell that he knew that he was a lady killer but when she thought about how he'd got the key card into her hand she recognised that there had to be more to him than that. "And this is Special Agent Gibbs."
The older man was standing in the shadows by the window and as Ziva introduced him he barely turned his head. But with the cadence of the light played across his features all Jen was aware of was his eyes; piercing, uncompromising and looking at her as though he could see everything she was working so hard to keep hidden.
"Agent Shepard," his voice was a low growl that did very little to disguise what she interpreted as impatience – not one of her fans she assumed. "Would you like to tell us what we're doing here?"
She bristled at what she interpreted as a suggestion that she'd panicked. She wasn't a probie, she was a seasoned agent, running a high profile undercover operation and if Special (but not as special as he thinks he is) Agent Gibbs didn't realise that she'd be very happy to explain it to him.
He said very little as she recounted the sudden change in Said's behaviour, but she could tell that his eyes were often resting on her, though when she looked at him he always seemed to have just looked away.
Forcing her attention back to Ziva and DiNozzon she was surprised to hear that they had recovered some of Said's recent phone conversations – but not surprised that they reinforced the impression of his paranoia and fear.
"You have no idea what prompted the change?" She knew the expression on her face spelt out what a dumb question she thought that was, because if she knew she'd have dealt with it by now. But she absolutely wasn't going to be intimidated by Agent Gibbs.
"My first thought was that he must have found some of the trace systems we have – but I looked back through the transactions and I can't see how he could have. And he hasn't changed anything; he's using the same systems to move money, I still have all my access to the accounts – which must mean he believes they're secure." She described how his paranoia and suspicion was being expressed – trying to help them understand how diffuse it was. "I don't think he knows what to be afraid of – what form the betrayal takes; it's just there."
"So, is the operation compromised or not?" Agent DiNozzo wasn't the only one who was confused about that.
She was frustrated – this operation had taken up almost two years of her life and now it felt like it was unravelling before her eyes. But she was damned if she was going to give up so easily. "That's what I expect you to tell me." She looked at her watch, "I have to go, but I've brought you Said's schedule and his contacts – I need you to find out why he's behaving like this and I need to know quickly."
She dropped the small card that held all the information onto a table and headed for the door, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder and see if Agent Gibbs had reacted to the fact that suddenly she was the one giving orders.
She wasn't entirely surprised when someone followed her out of the hotel room to catch up with her as she was waiting for the elevator. But she hadn't expected it to be Gibbs – although he didn't look too happy about it either.
"I have to get back," she announced as soon as he stopped beside her – hating how defensive she sounded, as though she was running away. "I need to collect some more clothes – but Said doesn't want me away for too long."
"This won't take long," he followed her into the elevator and as soon as it started to descend pushed a button that seemed to bring it to a halt. "Your operation could be compromised," he announced – as though this might come as news to her. "I need to know what you plan to do about that."
"I thought we'd established your next steps?" she ground out – keeping her temper with difficulty.
"Do you need to be pulled out?" he said, without bothering to respond to her words. He was talking to her as though she was an errant child who'd wandered off from her parents in a park and now needed to be rescued.
"Absolutely not!" she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head up to meet his uncompromising gaze – determined not to give an inch on this. "I need you to find out why Said is behaving this way – I didn't call for a rescue mission. Do your job Agent Gibbs – and I'll do mine."
In some distant part of her mind she recognised that she was channelling her frustration at him, because losing her temper under cover just wasn't an option. But the voice pointing this out to her was quiet and she ignored it.
"Even if it gets you killed?"
"This operation has taken two years of my life – so I know exactly what is at stake here and I'm not pulling out unless I see some proof that my cover is blown. I don't know how you work Agent Gibbs, but I was taught to follow the evidence. So, you find me some evidence and then we'll talk."
Something flickered in his expression – but she couldn't even begin to interpret what it was. The man was like granite – which did very little to explain why she couldn't quite stop herself from looking at him.
"I try not to get my team killed Agent Shepard – that's how I work." He reached into his pocket and fished out something small that glinted in the light. "So, humour me and take this," a small crystal that had formed in the shape of a rose dangled from a fine golden chain. "It's an alarm – break the chain and we'll know you're in trouble. We might even come to your rescue."
She leant back against the wall of the elevator – knowing she was just about to cross a line and not particularly caring.
"Said doesn't like other men giving me jewellery," she said – letting the innuendo drip from the words.
She'd done it deliberately, so she wasn't surprised when something else flared in his eyes and while she tried to guess what it meant, he grabbed her arm and shoved the necklace into her hand.
"Lie," he said and before she could respond he reached for the button and set the lift moving again. Not that she was in any state to find a smart answer – because she was still trying to deal with the way her heart rate had apparently doubled the moment he'd touched her.
As she stalked out of the elevator without looking back Gibbs was forced to conclude that as first meetings went it hadn't exactly been a resounding success. He couldn't even claim that he hadn't been warned. Morrow had said she had 'a hell of a temper,' and despite that he'd somehow felt the need to bait her and clarify for himself that the Director had not exaggerated.
The fact that when she was pissed her eyes flashed and when she crossed her arms it accentuated her breasts was a mere coincidence. Or that was what he was telling himself.
He understood her hostility, knew that she wouldn't easily give up an operation that had placed her in harms way - literally sleeping with the enemy. His gut twisted at the thought of Gravois touching her, his hands trailing all over pale, smooth skin. Gibbs closed his eyes and ruthlessly pushed that thought away – because she was doing what needed to be done and it wasn't any of his business.
In her place he knew he'd have reacted with the same vehemence; would have fought just as hard to protect the operation and would have demanded evidence before making a decision about its future – probably in similarly acerbic tones. He almost smiled at the way she'd sent him off to do his job – though she must know that she was asking him to do the near impossible. As though she was used to people wanting to do the impossible at her behest.
She hadn't been what he was expecting. He'd been too caught up in her collaboration with Mossad, put off by the counter-intelligence work and based on that he'd made assumptions about Jenny Shepard and he'd been wrong.
He should have listened to what Morrow had said about her, should have asked her partner what sort of Agent she was – because he'd been in her presence about thirty seconds when he knew that he'd completely misread her; and he was angry at himself for making such an amateur mistake.
Despite that he hadn't realised just how deeply she'd got to him until he'd grasped her hand and found himself within a hairs-breadth of pulling her to him and kissing her. Her magnetism, the flare of heat and attraction he'd experienced was almost a personal affront to his judgement and only in that moment did he realise that he'd behaved as though it was her fault that he was already in over his head.
This didn't happen to him; he'd never been attracted to a colleague before and though he liked feisty women he'd always been convinced that relationships between agents were a very bad idea – messy and complicated. Nothing about this situation had convinced him that he was wrong about that.
She wasn't even a red head.
In his professional judgement it was a damn mess.
TBC
