Disclaimer: Tony's not mine...sure wish he was...
A/N: Many thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1, and to all of you who have put my story on your Alerts list. And thanks for waiting so patiently for Chapter 2 - the old brain doesn't work well when you're doubled over in pain with stomach cramps...For all you Ziva fans out there, don't worry, she will feature prominently in future chapters. There's a lot of setup required first (I did warn you, this is a very ambitious effort and although I know where things will end up, not quite sure at this point how we'll get there).
Monday, May 31, 2010 5:37 a.m.
"Dammit!" Louisa Penachetti cursed as the almost-empty cat food bowl slipped between her shaky fingers and crashed to the floor, distributing porcelain shards and kibble crumbs all over the ceramic tile. Of course, Whiskers had to come and investigate immediately. "Get out of it!" she yelled at him, trying to steer him away from the dangerously sharp pieces with her right foot. She wasn't wearing slippers, and she tiptoed gingerly to the utility cupboard to retrieve a broom and pan, wincing as one of her bare size 5's landed smack on top of a particulary sharp piece of kibble.
She brushed aside a chestnut brown curl from her bleary eyes, struggling down onto her knees to sweep up the debris while simultaneously elbowing the cat out of harm's way. Squinting as she surveyed the floor for any remaining slivers, she picked herself up and brushed off her purple chenille robe. She had to pause a moment to catch her breath, thanks to the 20 or so extra pounds she'd gained in the last five years, which didn't sit very well on her small, 5'4" frame. She presumed that the extra weight made her less attractive to the opposite sex. But it was just as well that most men weren't all that interested in the only daughter of Rear Admiral Hank Penachetti. She didn't much like being around them either.
She pulled a cereal bowl out of the cupboard and filled it with fresh kibble. This will have to do for now, she sighed resignedly. Whiskers ran to the bowl and virtually inhaled the offering, completely ignoring his mistress now that he had what he wanted. Just like a man. You're all the same, aren't you? Only interested in what you can get out of a woman.
What had possessed her to select a career in a male-dominated field, she couldn't say. She supposed it was simply expected. The Penachettis were a Navy family, had been for three generations. Reach for the top, serve your country, and marry an Italian; these were the tenets by which Louisa and her brother Peter had been raised. It all seemed rather ridiculous to her, especially that last one. Well, at least she was serving her country. Petty Officer First Class Louisa Angelina Penachetti, attached to the National Security Agency. But, unlike her brother, she hadn't followed the path of a commissioned officer, instead choosing a less 'glamorous' career as a cryptology technician. And, at age 30, still not married. A disappointment to her father (or so she imagined).
She held down the evening shift, 4 p.m. to midnight, and this night had been even more unpleasant than usual. That idiot Jake Halden was there as always, blowing spitballs at her and cracking dirty jokes just to get under her skin. Ogling her from the cubicle directly across from hers. Leaving suggestive notes in her desk drawer and under her windshield wiper (she knew it was him, although she saw no way to prove it). He was making her life thoroughly miserable. Didn't he have any work to do? She'd requested a transfer months ago, but they were short-staffed as it was, so the chances of that were about nil.
Trouble was, Jake was the 'golden boy' of the cryptanalysis/signals division. He'd somehow managed to decode an obscure cipher that had emerged about a year ago in North Korea and that had everybody stumped. The ensuing accolades had gone straight to his head, and he never missed an opportunity to rub her nose in it. She didn't have enough leverage to make a sexual harassment complaint. She was one of only 6 women in the entire division. It was an old boys' club. It would be her word against his, and she didn't suppose anyone would take her seriously. Come to think of it, she wasn't even sure he was aware of how annoying he was.
Every workplace had one, it seemed. From the way her brother Pete described it, his best friend Tony was just the same...a player. She couldn't quite figure out why Pete hung around with the guy - they seemed to have little in common. Pete was a family man, married for six years, with two kids. A JAG officer specializing in International and Operational Law at the Washington Navy Yard, he'd met Anthony DiNozzo on a case about five years ago, and for some mysterious reason, they'd hit it off. The only theory she'd been able to come up with was that by palling around with Tony, Pete could relive his bachelor days, albeit vicariously. To hear Pete talk, Tony dated (or at least, hit on) virtually every attractive woman he met.
Well, that let HER off the hook. Pete had never introduced them, and that had been fine by her. She wasn't DiNozzo's type anyway - too short, too pudgy, too...ordinary. One would not describe her as beautiful, but she had a simplicity and a freshness about her that exuded friendliness and warmth. She tended to downplay her positive attributes, which included almost perfect light olive skin and lovely brown eyes with just a hint of amethyst in them. She had a tiny mouth with a few less teeth than she'd started out with; 4 extractions and 2 years of braces had been required to bring her teenaged face into proportion. But the end result was a sweet smile that could light up a room. In public, she was always well-groomed, with perfect nails and just enough makeup to accentuate her lovely high cheekbones.
Her thoughts drifted back to the shift just ended. Tonight had been worse than usual, because tonight the spooks from NCIS had shown up, only two hours into the rotation, and the whole cryptology division had been shut down for several hours as all of them were questioned and made to feel like criminals. Apparently they suspected someone in her work area of sending an unsanctioned, encrypted message to the Israeli government, via their embassy in D.C. And the icing on the cake...she'd been escorted to the staff lounge, now converted into a makeshift interrogation room, and had come face to face with none other than Anthony D. DiNozzo. Twenty minutes later, she'd emerged, shaken and feeling more than a little guilty, despite the fact that she'd done absolutely nothing wrong. By anyone's reckoning, it had not been the ideal way to be introduced to her brother's best friend.
Louisa headed outside to water her plants on the balcony, then picked up the newspaper from outside her apartment door. Pouring herself a cup of camomile tea to calm her nerves, she settled down on the couch, turning first to the Sports section to read up on the latest Stanley Cup commentary. Perhaps that would help her forget about this disastrous evening. She would head to bed around 6 a.m., with a light-blocking visor over her eyes and Whiskers firmly ensconced in the crook of her neck.