Chapter 3:
"I can't do it anymore, Jen. I won't." Tony paced back and forth across the Director's office.
"Tony this is not a request. You knew that when you started the mission." Jenny Sheppard seemed preoccupied as she shuffled papers on her desk, not bothering to look up at him as she spoke.
Tony stopped pacing and sat in the chair opposite the Director. Sighing, he looked directly at her. "Its one thing to get to know someone for the benefit of finding out information, but its more complicated than that now. Jeanne believes me to be her boyfriend, and up until a week or so ago I was more than happy to play along with that. I even began to feel something more for her. But the lying, the false pretences – that clouded any possibility we ever had of having a real relationship."
"Are you listening to yourself Tony?" The Director immediately stopped shuffling papers and stared at Tony. "You were not meant to form any real relationships on this mission. A good agent knows the difference."
"Okay so I screwed up. Now what?"
"You did not screw up, Tony. You let yourself become too involved on a personal level." She sighed, her own past flooding her thoughts. Composing herself, she continued, "Believe it or not I do understand. But this is the chance we take. It won't be much longer now, I promise. I'd like you to suggest a dinner with Jeanne and her father. I will also be at the restaurant of your choice. When the time is right, I will personally confront Rene Benoit."
Tony's eyes opened wide. "You'll what?" He stood up and began to pace again. "What is going on Jen? Why is he so important to you?" He stopped pacing to stand directly in front of the Director. His voice was softer when he continued to speak. "What did he do to you?"
Her thoughts were far away once again. Visions of Paris, Gibbs and a younger more innocent Jenny Sheppard laughed over a glass of wine in a restaurant along the Champs-Elysees.
"Trust me Tony. Just set up the dinner and I'll take it from there." The Director stood and walked across her office to open the door, an indication to Tony that their meeting was over. He stopped at the door, his expression serious yet concerned. "I hope you know what you're doing Jen."
He left, and closing the door after him she leant against it for support, her eyes closed. "I hope so too, Tony. I really hope so."
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Later that evening, Tony anxiously waited for Ziva at the bar in La Verrecchia. He didn't want to drink too much before she arrived, so he opted for a Perrier to begin. Squeezing juice from the lemon wedge into the drink, he glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time that night. It was only 9.15, so she wasn't really that late. He downed the sparkling water and once again scanned the entrance to the restaurant.
Ziva had chosen her favourite dress, she rarely wore a dress but she noticed how Tony always seemed to appreciate her appearance when she did. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror; she knew she looked good and for whatever reason Tony wanted to talk to her, she was excited to be seeing him in a social setting.
Driving to the restaurant, she began to wonder about the evening, would he finally tell her about his supposed 'girlfriend'? Maybe he was going to tell her he was getting married? Her stomach turned, no way, he wouldn't marry someone just like that, would he? As she pondered the various scenarios a flash of bright light blinded her vision. She furiously slammed on the brakes. Her mini careened across the intersection, missing the rampant SUV by seconds. Several other cars swerved to miss her, and her quick responses saved anyone else from being hit. She however, was not so lucky. Everything came to a stop almost as quickly as it had begun. Wrapped around a pole, her mini hissed and spat in the darkness. She heard several frantic voices, muffled by the fogginess in her head. "Quick! Call 911." One of them shouted.
Closing her eyes, confident help was on its way, she relaxed her aching body. Someone appeared to be yelling at her from behind the cracked glass of the driver's side window. "Miss, Miss! Are you alright? Can you hear me?" Ziva smiled; at least she thought she did. The airbag had her pinned in her seat and she found it difficult to move. She was very tired now, and she just needed to close her eyes for a minute. Tony was waiting, and she hated being late. Sirens in the distance alerted her. Confusion surrounded her. Someone managed to open the crushed driver's side door. It was all so vague; she really needed to close her eyes now.
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Tony finished his second Scotch before throwing down some cash to settle up the bar tab. 11 pm and Ziva was definitely not coming. He had consumed three Perrier before moving onto the harder stuff in an effort to stay sober just in case she did show up. Her home phone went straight to voicemail as did her cell. He'd left a message on both. Walking up the street to his condo he breathed in the cool night air. He tried to call her cell phone once more. Going straight to voicemail again, he tried to keep his message upbeat to hide his disappointment. "Hey Ziva, its me again. I guess you changed your mind, that's okay. I understand. Um, sleep well and I'll see you at work tomorrow. Bye…" The last word hung on his lips as he hesitated in hanging up. Snapping the phone shut, he walked a little quicker towards his home. A cold six-pack awaited him.
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Jeanne was excited yet a little nervous beginning the first shift of her ER rotation. She only hoped it would not be a busy night, being a perfectionist she wanted to get to know where everything was and who everyone was before having to perform. Hearing the shouts of the harried EMT's as they entered the ER, she jumped up as her name was called.
"Dr Benoit, we need you over here. Female, mid-twenties, pulled out of a car wreck. Possible head trauma, no apparent broken bones but she does have abdominal bruising and mild facial contusions." Jeanne walked alongside the patient, taking it all in. Two other ER doctors prepared to work on the young woman as they entered the examination room.
"We'd like you to observe, Dr Benoit." The attending doctor waved her into the room to join them. "Try the cell phone from her car, see if you can contact someone on her call list. Her name appears to be Ziva David, she works for a Federal Government Agency called NCIS."
Jeanne took the woman's phone, and turned it on. She'd heard of NCIS before. Hadn't her father mentioned it to her once? Her mind was working hard to figure out why this agency seemed so familiar. The phone sprang to life, alerting her that it had 2 unheard messages. She hit the button to hear the messages but she didn't have the password to retrieve them. Instead she hit 'redial' on the last number called. A man answered the phone on the second ring, "Ziva?"
TBC…
Hope you're enjoying reading this as much I'm enjoying writing it! I still have a few more surprises in store for the next chapter…
