She wakes up, before the alarm. She looks at the clock. It tells her that she has managed to get in less than an hour. She rolls over, quietly, trying not to wake Bo, he lies beside her, on top of the cover. His body radiates heat.
"I'm not asleep," he tells her, as he stares up at her ceiling fan.
"Ok."
"Can we get up, now?"
"It's too early to get up," she insists.
"Call him, please," Bo requests.
"You call him. I do not want to be the one who wakes him up."
"Ok, can I have the phone?"
She reaches over to her bedside stand, and grabs the phone. She hands it to him. He dials in the dark. The party on the other end of the line answers after two rings.
"Gibbs," he answers.
"Are you sleeping?" is Bo's first question.
"Bo do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Yes, sir. It's two oh six, a.m."
"Does Ziva know that you're calling?"
"Yes. She's laying right here."
"Right where?"
"I'm in her bed."
"Why are you in her bed, son? Aren't you a little old for that?"
"I got scared."
"Well, I guess I can understand. If anyone can protect you, it's her."
"Do you believe in ghosts?" Bo wonders.
"Bo, why do you ask? What's going on, over there?"
"Mom was here."
"Bo..."
"I know, she's supposed to be dead. I know, but she was here. I know it. I saw her, with my own eyes. I know that it's crazy, but..."
"It's ok, calm down."
"Will you come over?"
"Can I talk to Ziva, please?"
"Yeah," he passes the phone to Ziva. "He wants to talk to you."
She takes the phone from him. She puts it to her ear, "Hello?"
"Are you alright?" is Gibbs first question.
"I am fine."
"And Bo?"
"He's pretty shaken up."
"You think it was a nightmare?"
"No."
"You believe him?"
"Yes," she reveals.
"Do you have any evidence?"
"Yes."
"Ok, Ziva I think that you should bring him over here."
"Now? It's the middle of the night."
"I think that he could be in some serious danger."
"What's going on?" Ziva inquires.
"I don't know, but I fully intend to find out."
"I'll be over, in a few," she promises.
She and Bo make their way to her car, in their pajamas. She speeds away from the apartment, towards Gibbs house.
Fifteen minutes later, they're on his doorstep. When they reach the door it opens. He ushers them into the house, straight into the basement.
"Bo, can you make sure that I got all the rough spots?" he questions.
"Sure," he nods.
"Ziva," he motions. She follows him back up the stairs, into the laundry room.
"Gibbs," she whispers, when they reach the laundry room, "What is going on?"
"I don't think that he's crazy," he responds.
"Neither do I," she admits.
"I don't like this," Gibbs adds.
"Like what? What is going on?"
"I don't know, exactly."
"But you have a theory?"
"I want it to be wrong, but if anyone has the balls to pull it off, it would be Jenny."
"Pull what off?"
"Fake her own death."
"Wait, you think that she's still alive?"
"What did you think?"
"I don't know," she shrugs, "I guess I just figured that it was a look a like, I don't know how to explain it."
"No. It's her."
"What do you mean, it's her?"
"He's not the only one whose seen her. I've seen her too."
"When?"
"Tonight."
"The other day when I was doing laundry, I went into his closet, and it smelled like her perfume."
"Ziva, this could be bad," he reminds her.
"Because?"
"If Jenny is still alive, then it means that she has gone so deep undercover, that even her own son couldn't know that she was alive."
"A serious mission, that she would have to be dead for."
"Exactly," he nods.
"So why would she slip up?" Ziva questions.
"She has to have a reason."
"You think that she's in trouble?" Ziva assumes.
"Jenny always did have a tendency to get in, over her head."
"So what are we supposed to do?"
"We wait."
"For what?"
"Her to walk in the door."
"And what makes you think that she's going to do that?" Ziva inquires.
"She wouldn't do it, unless she needed our help."
"What are we supposed to do with Bo?"
"Leave him down here. It's the only place that he's safe."
"I can protect myself," he announces.
They look down, at the bottom of the stairs. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at them. Gibbs glance drifts from his son, to Ziva.
"That true?"
She shrugs, "I have taken him to the shooting range, numerous times."
"Is the any good?"
"He takes after you, doesn't he?" Ziva replies.
"Ok."