Chapter 8 – Not By Bread Alone
Tim slouched over his knees and tried to ignore his parched mouth and the rumbling of his stomach. A dull ache crept up his back from sitting so long on top of a toppled tree trunk. He glanced back to the dense jungle that Abby had disappeared into, her voice drifting in sing song tones from somewhere deep in the brush.
"Abby! I'm coming in there after you if you don't hurry up!" Tim yelled towards the jungle. She responded with a distant, rambling protest. "Don't you dare step foot in here, McGee! Do you know how many plant-based deathtraps I've found, just waiting for some naïve investigator that can't recognize poison ivy when he sees it?" Tim rolled his eyes and rested his chin in his hands. Abby continued, her voice growing gradually closer. "You would get blown up! I mean, not literally blown up, with limbs flying and brain matter scattered everywhere, but cheeks puffing out and skin bubbling and giant red rashes and. . ."
"Alright, I get it, I get it! Sheesh. . ." he muttered, and suddenly she burst forth from the foliage. Tim stood to his feet and watched her with some curiosity as she walked up to him with her hands behind her back. "You find anything? Anything edible, at least?" He tried to peek over her shoulder but she angled herself away and walked past him, grinning widely. "Maybe. . ." she intoned. She brought her hands around and held two large coconuts up to her chest.
"I've always wanted one of those half- shell tops," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye.
Tim was glad the sun had already given his face a rosy tinge, because he could feel himself blushing. He gave her a sly grin and took one of the fruits from her. "You sure they're big enough?"
Abby reached out and tapped him on the nose. "Naughty Tim."
* * *
Ziva bounded through the jungle to the constant sound of Tony's whining.
"Hungry. . .God, so hungry. . .could eat a horse. . .a whale. . .maybe even McGee's cooking."
"And what is wrong with McGee's cooking?" she asked, hoping to put a stop to his incessant rambling.
"Well, look at how much weight he's lost. . .can't be because of good food."
Ziva looked back at him and smirked. "And yet you wouldn't hurt to, how you say—lose a few pounds yourself, yes?" She stifled a laugh as his face registered mild shock.
"Uh, maybe I have? I mean, I did have a few slices of pizza too many the other night, and maybe a beer or two, and. . ."
Ziva spun suddenly, and Tony had to grab her shoulders to keep from running into her. She put a finger to his lips. "Stop."
"Stop what?" he murmured.
She traced her hand down his side until her hand rested on his stomach. His smile turned again into abrupt shock when she pinched the little layer of skin on his gut. She grinned with satisfaction, then looked him up and down.
"Where is your shirt?"
Tony stuffed a hand into his pant pocket and produced the wrinkled mass that was his dress shirt.
"It's hot, and I would kill for a shower right now."
Ziva sniffed the side of his neck and scrunched up her face. "Ugh. I would kill for you."
She resumed walking through the underbrush; Tony was about to protest her comment when he suddenly picked up on her hidden suggestion and broke into a smile.
They trekked on into the forest; Ziva tried to keep them away from the numerous plants she could not immediately recognize. Something about them made her instincts wary of their outreaching limbs and thick, splotchy leaves. A soft gurgling noise caught her attention. She motioned for Tony to hurry behind her.
They followed the noise for a half-hour, its tone steadily rising and ringing through the jungle. They scaled a small hill and came to a clearing in the brush. Ziva felt her breath catch at the sight before them: a broad, crystal blue pond that lapped gently at white sand, a thin stream snaking away in a crevice through the hill they had just climbed, and wide white-crested waterfall pouring into the pond from the base of a towering grey rock formation. Sunlight scattered across the water's surface, and a faint rainbow arched in the waterfall's mist.
Ziva felt Tony give her a nudge. He gave her his trademark smile, and spoke huskily.
"About that shower. . ."
* * *
Jethro turned his knife once more over the flames, then carefully removed the steaming hot piece of crab meat from its tip and offered it to Jenny.
"Oh, no, Jethro, I'm absolutely stuffed." She turned her attention back to the makeshift tablet of bark in her lap, a small piece of burnt wood serving for a pencil.
He grinned and popped the juicy morsel into his mouth. Some butter would have been great right about now, but for a meal in these circumstances it was hard to argue with the results. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began to clean his blade.
She continued her calculations for a few more minutes, then set the tablet aside and sighed deeply.
He paused in his cleaning and waited for her to elaborate on her thoughts.
"We may be here for a long time," she said finally. "If I'm calculating correctly, our plane was almost seven hundred miles off course. There is no way it wasn't deliberate."
"Yeah, kinda figured that. We were vulnerable the moment we set out to investigate Okinawa."
Jethro observed a wave of emotions wash over Jenny's face. He knew how much she prided herself on the reliability of her agents, and the director-side of her struggled to reconcile the crew's betrayal.
"If you were still an agent, Jen, you'd remember that loyalty has a price. Sometimes a low one."
She gave him a sharp look. "I'm fully aware of that fact, Jethro. I work with Congress, after all."
He stifled a smirk. "Yeah, but you know you're dealing with bastards then. You don't expect the same from people that work for you."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts as they watched the sun setting in the distance. Finally, she stood up and made her way to their unorthodox tent, a threat to be blown away any moment but enough to keep the sun and rain out. When he joined her later, she put her head on his chest and they settled down to sleep. A moment later, she whispered in the dark.
"So, what's our next step?"
"Find the rest of my team."
He felt her smile into his chest.
"I think you mean our team."
