A/N - thanks for the reviews. I'm not completely sure this works - but well, maybe it does. Thanks to E for all her wise words.

Part 6

The surveillance at the restaurant had to have been Gibbs' idea, she and Ziva had decided months ago that trying to keep that close a watch on Said was too risky, but apparently what she thought didn't count for too much at the moment. Jen almost wished she'd left the matter in the hands of Mossad – though a moment's reflection told her that in that scenario she'd have lost just as much control; probably more.

And that was what was really bothering her. She didn't like her fate being in someone else's hands. Let alone someone who had provoked her into losing her temper a mere 10 minutes into their acquaintance.

But, Agent Gibbs was NCIS' choice, Director Morrow's choice. And she had to respect that – even if she thought the man needed an attitude adjustment.

Said's paranoia meant that he was in a heightened state of awareness so in the restaurant she'd made sure his attention stayed on her – fortunately that wasn't too much of a challenge.

He'd asked her about the necklace, as she'd known he would, and she'd told him that she'd found it in a flea market in Paris and added softly that she was wearing it because it went with her dress. Since he'd brought her the dress in question he could hardly fault her taste and, like the last time she'd worn it, he was far more interested in getting her out of it.

Once or twice she'd found herself touching the stone at her throat, her fingertips grazing the crystal; maybe because she knew who was watching her. But she couldn't afford to let herself become preoccupied with him; even if she still shivered at the thought of his strong, callused fingers grasping her wrist and then brushing her palm as he shoved the necklace into her hand.

"Jasmine?" she actually jumped at the gentle touch to her cheek – realising with shock that Said had emerged from the bathroom to find her day-dreaming.

"I was miles away," she'd never done that before, never let him catch her as Jenny – let alone whilst thinking about another man. But he smiled at her and pressed a kiss to her head as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the breakfast tray.

"Somewhere nice?"

"A beach in the Caribbean." She offered, her mind moving quickly to try to make the most of the situation. "There was sun, sea – a plentiful supply of pina colada and you were there as well."

"Applying your sun screen I assume?"

"Among other things," she pulled him towards her, "maybe we need to get away for a while," she said quietly; every inch his concerned lover.

"That's not a bad idea," she was smiling at him when her cell phone beeped.

This time it was Ziva who followed her into the elevator and after the difficulty she'd had persuading Said to let her leave she was relieved to be in a familiar presence – she hadn't been alone with her partner since this whole mess had begun.

"What's going on?" She asked – knowing that Ziva would never have risked a direct message unless it was important.

"Agent Gibbs is waiting,"

"Well, let him wait – Ziva?"

"We found something. We're using the suite next door to yours."

"Does this hotel know you're using its empty rooms whenever you need a place to meet. I assume you aren't staying here?"

"We're being discrete. I am sure the hotel do not know we are using the rooms. Agent Gibbs thought it would be less dangerous to meet here."

"Oh of course he did," she couldn't argue with the logic but she was already tired of hearing his name drop from her partner's lips. The elevator stopped at the floor of the suite and as they got out she asked, "so, what's he like to work with?"

"More impressive than I expected." Jen was surprised and a little disgruntled because she knew exactly how difficult it was to impress Ziva; it had been years before she'd got more than polite tolerance from her partner and even now she wasn't really sure how the younger woman rated her skills.

"Impressive," she queried, stretching the word out and raising an eyebrow. Ziva rolled her eyes.

"You know I do not understand American innuendo. I mean he is sharp and experienced – I am learning a great deal from him."

"If he's so good it's a shame he is such an arrogant pain in the ass."

"Perhaps he is not arrogant – you were not exactly co-operative."

"He started it," Jen said – knowing she sounded exactly like a kid in the playground. "Acting as though this whole situation was beneath him. How was I supposed to respond to that?"

"He knows you are good a good agent – he told me so himself. You could actually try to work with him?"

"All right," she pulled a face at Ziva, mollified by a compliment she hadn't been expecting "I'll go easy on him. So, when he's not being a pain in the ass, what's he like?"

"I told you – impressive, though I think he is difficult to get to know. I also do not imagine he enjoys being kept waiting."

"OK," Jen raised her hands in surrender. But just as they reached the door to the suite Ziva paused and shot her a look,

"And he is at least as interested in you as you seem to be in him."

"I'm not…!" Jen protested, hating Ziva's knowing smirk and the blush she could feel on her cheeks. But she'd already pushed the door open and Jen had no choice but to follow her inside.

She was conscious of Gibbs immediately – though she barely glanced his way, but even so it took her a moment to notice DiNozzo lolling in a chair and the laptop open on the desk."It's good to see you Agent Shepard," the voice was one she knew and she took a closer look at the computer, smiling as a familiar face filled the screen.

"Director," she greeted warmly.

"Well," Morrow said, "now that you're here let's get on with this. Jethro?" Jethro – his name was Jethro? She wouldn't have guessed that in a hundred years and as she processed the information she couldn't help but look over her shoulder at the man in question.

"Last night Officer David was informed that the Egyptian Police had discovered a body. This man," he nodded towards DiNozzo, who handed over a photo, "was very briefly in Gravois' company a week ago just before Agent Shepard reported the change in his behaviour. We've identified him as Rashid Abdullah – a minor peddler of information between terrorist groups. We think it is likely that he warned Gravois, probably for money – and then was killed for blabbing."

Jen listened with growing disbelief – a dead man who traded information, a contact with Gravois that she knew nothing about and the tiny links in a chain that went all the way back to a threat that explained Said's fear and paranoia all too well.

No wonder he had agreed to her suggestion that they get away for a while – she was surprised that he hadn't taken flight already. At last it was clear that it wasn't the authorities that he feared, but a radical group, even by the standards of those he worked for, who had a history of targeting people moving money for other terrorists – and stealing it out from under their noses.

"They don't like bankers much," Gibbs said as DiNozzo handed over some more photographs, these ones showing dead bodies and a burnt out house. "Mossad think this was their work. It was a small scale operation, looks like they invaded the house, tortured the occupants until they handed over the access codes to accounts and then killed them all. The accounts were all cleared out – the money used to buy weapons."

"If you're a terrorist where do you go to report a crime?" DiNozzo quipped, but no one responded

"The situation is very serious," Morrow was saying, his warning enough to chasten the junior agent – more or less.

"So - what do we do?" DiNozzo asked instead.

"It's Agent Shepard's decision." She looked up, shaken out of her stupor by Gibbs' voice. She knew he understood the gravity of the situation but she had been feeling as though she was losing control and she hadn't expected him to respect her enough to hand it back to her.

There was really no choice, and as she watched him she knew that he realised that as well. Her mind flashed rapidly over options; searching for something they had missed. If they pulled the operation now they'd get Said, get the money and most of his clients – but she'd been determined that they'd follow the money all the way to its destination and it was hard to give up that idea. And still he was watching her, saying nothing – as though he knew that she needed to be sure.

"We pull the operation," she said, turning her head back to Morrow on the screen. "If they're targeting him we risk losing everything."

"Mossad will not be pleased," Ziva said – and Jen knew she was right.

"I'll talk to our colleagues in Mossad," Morrow said, "and set the wheels in motion. It's going to take 24 hours to get all the warrants – not to mention arranging the co-ordination between agencies. Perhaps now we can increase the surveillance on Gravois?" Jenny saw the slight smile flicker across Gibbs' expression and was surprised when Morrow chuckled. "I see you've already taken that decision out of my hands. Thank you Jethro – I appreciate it."

He had second and third thoughts about following her – but when Agent Shepard had slipped out of the hotel suite he'd glanced towards Officer David; who had inclined her head to indicate that he should go after her. It wasn't what he was expecting – but he certainly agreed that someone needed to keep her in their sights.

She'd made a tough call – made it only after thinking through all the alternatives. There was no doubt that she was sharp and intelligent and that she had nerve; but he had seen just how much the decision had cost her and he admired the strength it had taken to make it anyway.

He stepped out onto the roof, wishing he'd brought his sunglasses; until squinting against the sun he spotted her looking out over the city.

"I'm fine," she said automatically, not turning around so he could decide if he believed her. "I just wanted a few more days, or weeks – trace the money a few steps further along."

"They'll always be another step, another reason to delay" he offered, "this one's just too dangerous."

"You ever been undercover?" She asked, surprising him with her question.

"For a few days, a couple of weeks at the most. Apparently I look a lot like an ex-marine." His attempt at humour barely made an impact – but she did turn around to look at him.

"It eats into you," she said, "takes you over. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever find myself again. Good undercover agents don't pretend – they bring something of themselves to the person they've become. Maybe there's too much of me in Jasmine."

He watched her for a moment, taking a step closer to better see the expressions darting across her face. The one that he was sure he'd interpreted correctly was embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I…"

"Don't apologise," he told her, "it's a sign of weakness." She folded her arms and looked up at him with what might be amusement.

"So, what does that mean – that you're never wrong?"

"Almost never."

"My God – you really do have an ego the size of a planet."

"You aren't the first person to tell me that."

She smiled – the strain dropping away from her face and he couldn't help his reaction; the sharp intake of breath that had her eyes widening.

"Just when I thought things couldn't become any more complicated," she observed wryly. He wasn't entirely sure what she was talking about until she gestured to the diminished space between them. "I don't do this," she said.

"Me neither,"

"Good to know." And still he didn't move – and neither did she and if anything the space between them had become far smaller. "I should get back," she said at last, "Said wasn't pleased that I left, I had to tell him it was an emergency."

"You're going back?"

"If I don't he'll be gone before we get the warrants – with most of the money." He hadn't thought it through – he'd imagined she'd co-ordinate from this end, that there would be no need for her to return to the house.

"So what's the plan – they get you out just before the arrests and then you re-surface somewhere else to take over the business."

"That's one option,"

"Morrow told me to get you out." She looked surprised and he realised that she had no idea how highly the Director thought of her. "Forget what you think you ought to do – he'll cover it, but it's your decision." She bit her lip and tilted her head to look up at him.

"I seem to be making a lot of difficult decisions today." He couldn't read her – though that might be because it was a little too easy to get lost in her eyes. "Let's get Said under lock and key – and then I'll think about it."

It wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was the one he expected. He didn't have to like it and from the way his gut was acting up he had every reason not to, but it wasn't his decision to make.

Finally giving into the temptation that had been building within him since he'd seen her walk into the hotel suite, if not since the first time he'd set eyes on her, he touched his index finger to the pendant at her throat. "Do me a favour – don't take this off?"

Her eyes fluttered closed as his finger trailed along her collarbone – he was no longer making any attempt to pretend that he was touching the pendant. "God" she murmured and he knew she'd felt it too – the heat building between them in a slow burn, despite his having barely touched her.

He'd reached for her before he was aware of what he was doing, his hands settling on her hips as he pulled her towards him. "Don't," she breathed, opening her eyes and pressing her hand against his lips. "If you kiss me, I'm going to think about you every time he touches me tonight." She traced the place his lips joined with her fingertip and then pulled back – as though she had never meant to reveal so much. "And I'm already thinking about you far too much."

Even if she hadn't spoken he'd have known from the way she touched that she was just as affected by this as he was. He backed away, but made no move to relax his hold on her. He rubbed his thumb back and forth at her hip; she shifted fractionally and her shirt rode up. He couldn't resist and his fingertips stroked over soft, warm flesh that he knew he could easily become addicted to touching. "I have to go," she whispered – reluctance tingeing her voice.

"You keep saying that."

"And this time I mean it." He let her go, watching as she strode towards the doorway – smiling at the determination that was etched into every stride.

"Watch you back Agent Shepard!" He called after her and she stopped, turning to look over her shoulder. Smiling quickly at him she replied,

"Count on it, Agent Gibbs," before disappearing back inside.

He took her place looking out over the edge of the roof, trying to imagine that he'd be able to see her leaving. He'd found it hard to stomach the thought of Gravois touching her before, but it was much more difficult now. And she'd practically told him that Gravois would be touching her.

He wished he'd kissed her.

TBC