Jan 20
When buying and selling are controlled by legislation, the first things to be bought and sold are legislators.
P. J. O'Rourke (1947 - )
Jennifer Shepard was not in a good mood. The idiot at the coffee shop had screwed up her order, giving her a drink with not enough caffeine and half a ton of sugar. Cynthia had come down with the flu and her temporary replacement had yet to locate her office; when he eventually turned up, she planned to fire the temp. MTAC was not functioning after a certain Agent DiNozzo had made Agent McGee jump and spill his coffee over one of the vital consoles.
And to top it all off, Senator Fahy hated her guts and was busy blocking the budget for NCIS in a committee. If she couldn't get it sorted soon, her agency would be out of funds and she would have to come up with emergency measures; otherwise the Navy and Marines could implode and there would not be a damn thing they could do about it.
Technically, Senator Fahy did not hate her guts. He was just joined at the hip with private intelligence companies who wanted to undercut her agency. The companies were paying him a lot of money to cause her a lot of problems.
She sighed, opening her eyes and fighting the urge to reach for her gun when she spotted Ziva sitting silently in front of her desk. She hadn't heard anything, but the Israeli could be incredibly sneaky at times. It was a good thing she had had a lot of practice with a sneaky ex-marine.
"Better start hoarding the ammo," Jenny quipped.
"Why?" Ziva looked baffled. "I already have quite a store –"
Jenny shook her head. "It was a note, not an observation," she pointed out. "Senator Fahy needs to have a heart attack soon or we won't have any money. Lucky for you, Mossad pays your wages. The rest of NCIS is going to starve."
Ziva smirked. "Do you want him dead or merely more amenable…"