Disclaimer- NCIS is not mine

Lipstick Rival

'If I'm right we're headed straight for hell
I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
He wants a fight, well now he's got one
And he ain't seen me crazy yet.'
-Miranda Lambert, Gunpowder and Lead

It was the same bar they usually went to, the one which he had first approached her in all those months ago. The one where the bartender had learn not to flirt with her if he knew what was best for him, where she had spotted Gibbs what now was three weeks ago. The one she was in now sat, once more opposite Yakov, with his dark hair and black polo neck sweater. A man who at first – back when she still had Leo by her side – had repelled her, however now he was a man whom she had come to trust. He'd been the one who got her noticed by his superiors, and she had no doubt in her mind that he was the one who had gotten her the meeting with 'Sir' two weeks ago.

The meeting she had decided to walk out of with her seductive swaying hips and a sinfully deadly smirk.

It seemed like she always wore so much makeup these days. Seamed like her long red hair was always either straightened or curled – as though she always made so much of an effort. Every night she would make her way back to that apartment, and the first thing she would do would be remove the layer of makeup. Step in the shower and curl up in her natural state. And yet even though she had considered leaving the apartment without her façade of makeup on, she never had. It was like without that layer of foundation, without the coating of mascara or the sweep of lipstick, she couldn't be Julietta. She didn't have the confidence to pull off the act.

As she sat opposite Yakov now, once more drinking the clear Vodka which she'd had watered down, her appearance was no different. Her hair was straightened, with the top few layers taken back into a couple of bobby pins. Her eyelids were covered with a light dusting of grey eye shadow whilst her eyelashes were defined by mascara. Her lips were accentuated by a pink lipstick, legs clad in black straight leg trousers, teamed with a pale aqua blouse featuring a stiff white colour. Jenny wore the usual camel coat and her Louboutin black ankle boots.

Her head was rested on her hand, and her eyes scanned the bar once more, watching the goings on. There was a couple in the corner, one she'd noticed a couple of times before. She only noticed them because of the woman, whilst everyone else in the bar generally had the palest of skin because of the cold and dull climate; this woman had a beautiful olive skin. Her hair was dark brown, and curly. She always dressed smartly – but never in a skirt. However Jenny had noticed her too, because of the way she always looked uncomfortable in what she was wearing. Generally, like she would rather be in less fitting clothes. Her partner – whilst he had pale skin – did not look Russian. His hair was a lighter brown, eyes a deeper almost chocolate colour which had an unusual warmth to them. Unlike his partner he looked at ease in the open neck shirt and jeans ensemble she had noticed he generally wore.

They were a strange couple though, they talked and laughed like they were supposed to, but they barely ever touched, and when they did it was short and just their hands. It reminded Jenny of a couple who were undercover, but she always banished the thoughts. Knowing that if she convinced herself that there were other agents nearby she would either worry too much and blow the op, or notice them too strongly and blow the op. She watched them subtly for a moment and then turned to look around the bar again.

The bar itself was generally only looked after by two people at most, as this evening was light on clients there was only the usual man behind. The bar it's self played host to a couple of men, all sat there staring aimlessly into their double Vodka. Most wearing a variety of formal business like clothing which gave her the impression that they had arrived at the bar straight from work. Choosing the silence of this place over wherever their homes were.

Sighing to herself she ran a hand though the ends of her hair and smoothed it down before turning at looking at her counterpart who was sat opposite her. She smiled at him. Whilst he had been the one to initiate tonight's meet up, he had barely said a word since he arrived at her table carrying his drink and took the seat opposite. That was something which she was trying to not worry about. Then finally he spoke, looked up from his Vodka and gave her a smile.

"It seems that even though you did walk out of a meeting with the most powerful man in Russia and Europe, you didn't burn all your bridges." She had seen him once since her meeting, although it was only momentarily, he'd caught her eye across the bar, and glared knowingly at her. She'd known then that he was well aware of just how her meeting had ended. However his work had kept him away, so for the last two weeks they had spoken not once.

"You didn't expect me to ruin my chances did you?" She questioned with a smirk on her pink lacquered lips. She once more took a sip of the vile liquid she was being forced to drink and then set the glass down, tilting her head and encouraging him to talk once more.

"I should have known you are smarter than that." He stated, downing the remainder of his own drink and catching the bar tenders eye for another. Then he turned to the beautiful red head who sat opposite him. When he'd first seen her back in his territory, he'd been wary. After all the last time she had been around one of the best arms dealers in Russia had been arrested. But there had been something about her that told him she was honest when she said that she and Leo were no longer together. That she had decided she could achieve more without him by her side.

And as he sat with her now, he was more than a little pleased with his own judgement. "I had my own meeting with 'sir'." The 'Sir' that Yakov referred to was of course the man whom Jenny had met with two weeks ago. Who had drunk the same whiskey as her father had done. "In fact since you met him it seems that I have had a couple." This caused Jenny to pick the corners of her mouth up in a slight smile towards the other man.

"Oh have you now?" She questioned with a slight wink of the eye. The thing about her relationship with Yakov was that she knew that whatever she said would not make him judge her. Similarly to Gibbs, he decided his opinion on a person based upon their actions as oppose to their words. It was strange in that way, because if Yakov and Gibbs could meet – without the knowledge of the others profession – she was pretty sure that they would get along.

"It seems that you have left quite an impression on him." Yakov said, raking his eyes over her body. Jenny hated herself for the way she played up to him, how she pushed her hair over her shoulder, leant her head back and laughed a little so that her neck was exposed. How she crossed her legs and accidently touched his. It wasn't that she found the man attractive; it was just that she knew it would speed up her mission. And in her heart, there was still a fire burning at the thought of leaving Russia and returning home. "He's not the only one either."

"And what kind of impression have I made?" She questioned. In recent weeks she'd noticed the subtle changes in the man opposite her. The one who had, at first, been a cold and hard to crack man, was slowly relaxing in her company. And that was something that pleased her, because it meant that Julietta was doing something right.

"He wants to do business." And with that, the flirtatious atmosphere was removed from the table, and she sat forward, knowing that they would speak in what was barely more than a whisper about work. However, that did not mean she didn't smile a little, because she did.

"Well that id always something that I like to hear." She stated, tilting her head once more. "You the one I'm working through then?" She asked, wondering if she would have to do business with Yakov because the big man himself would not do business directly. That was something which she had had to figure out how to accommodate into the mission. And she had managed to do so, but at the same time doing business direct would mean that he could be charged with so much more that doing it through a middle man.

"No, for the first time I've ever known, he wants to do business directly with you." Yakov stated, picking up the new glass of Vodka and downing it in one. Something that Jenny would always admire the Russians for was their ability to handle their drink. The Vodka was strong and she often wondered how they managed, but she had yet to see a Russian acting drunk. She'd seen a couple of them get angry in the street, but she'd never actually seen anyone acting in what she would consider a drunken manner.

"Well aren't I the lucky one." Jenny stated, drinking the remainder of her own Vodka. "When is the meeting to be?"

"You'll be told on the day – we can't have you planning an assassination now can we." He stated, smirking in a joking manner. And with that he stood up, and made his way out of the bar. Jenny sat there, and leant back in her chair, sighing softly in relief at the fact that she was in the clear. But also was getting further up the ladder. The red head let a small smile fall across her lips before she grabbed her back and shrugged on her jacket. Then left the bar.

She never usually opted for the girly look – and whilst her outfit today would not be as 'girly' as some would classify, it was girly enough for her. The black of her tight pencil skirt was teamed with a lilac blouse which was covered in small white polka dots. The said blouse was loose fitting, the sleeved bellowed and it accentuated her figure. On her feet were a pair of Louboutin Daffodil shoes, in a mauve purple. The bright red lipstick that she usually wore had been traded in for a very pale pink, and her hair was tied up in a long ponytail.

As she walked own the cold street, her camel wool jacket unfastened so that the breeze bit at her skin through the fabric, and her hair swung from side to side as she went like a pendulum. It was dusk in the city now, and the streets were filled with men and women heading home after a busy day. As Jenny walked, dressed formally for her meeting with 'sir', she blended in perfectly.

That morning she had been stood looking out over the city, when her mobile had rung telling her that the meeting would be that day. So Jenny had smiled, made sure that she knew every single weapon she could over off by heart, making sure she knew the years of production, years of use by the military – by whose military – and just how many she could get. Then she'd run over the price list a hundred times over. It was what she always did. Before they'd had meetings last time around, Gibbs had relaxed – slept – or tried to get her to leave the apartment and explore the city. But that wasn't how Jenny worked; she would sit with a mug of coffee, and read over everything. Read over every piece of paper like this was some big exam.

Jethro hadn't understood it at first, thought that she was stupid. But then he'd seen her in action, seen how all of those nerves that he'd watched her harbour in the apartment dissipated as Julietta arrived. It took a good few meetings before he understood that it was her mentally preparing herself for what was about to take place. But once he understood, he left her be.

That was a way of working that had never left her. When there was a big case in DC she was the same. They'd reach a dead end and she would read over everything again, and then she'd be the one to find what they'd missed.

The meeting was to take place at the rear of building she had first met 'sir' in. There was a small piazza where apparently he did all of his business deal. She wasn't sure just who would be there when she arrived, although she was reasonably positive that Yakov would make an appearance.

The sun was out – a rare occurrence she had discovered in Moscow. Due to the appearance of the sun they sat in the Piazza it's self. The chairs were those black wrought iron ones, but thankfully they had soft white cushions on them. There were four of them who were sat down, Jenny, 'Sir', Yakov, and a man whom she had never met before, but whom she guessed was one of the men in charge of business deals. All four of them were gathered around a small table, filled with glasses of scotch curtsey of the waiters – who had appeared out of nowhere. Yakov and the business man seemed unimpressed by the scotch, but Jenny was thankful for it. Because the warmth it brought spread through her limbs and kept her warm.

At that moment in time, the man whose name she was unsure of was looking over the specs for her weapons – she'd brought a more detailed list. And she guessed he was making sure that all the numbers added up. As he did so the rest of them were silent. Yakov was sat there gazing off into the distance; however Jenny was well aware that he was taking in every move she made.

'Sir' was sat looking up at the cloud covered sky. It was quite a beautiful evening in the city, and looking up at the sky she couldn't help but smile at the darkening blue and off white clouds above her. Jenny sat there, not worried about whether the information she had brought was right, Jethro had proof read it, and so had NCIS' firearms department. Between them nothing could be wrong.

The red head leant forward and took a sip of the scotch, once more loving the warmth as it spread through her body, beside her she watched the expression on 'Sir's face, as he looked at that sky. And she wondered who he was, wondered what his real name was, who he went home to of an evening and why he woke up every morning. She knew he was the target that she would be forced to bring down if the worst came to the worst.

She sighed brushed her bangs out of her eyes, wondering what he life would be like when she returned to Washington. She wondered whether Gibbs and Stephanie's marriage would survive the deep freeze of the frozen city, or whether it would be shattered and melt when they were America bound. Jenny wondered whether she would finally be able to leave the feelings that she had developed for Gibbs behind, and move on with her life. Wondered whether Stan and Decker would last on Gibbs' team much longer; or whether they would soon be offer that promotion that was just too good to pass off.

Whilst Jenny was in Moscow, living her life as Julietta, it felt like the rest of the world was on pause. Whilst the life of Special Agent Jennifer Shepard had been paused, so had the lives of all of those that she cared about. But in the back of her mind she knew that they hadn't. Whilst she was here, every day Stan and Will would be in NCIS working, managing her op, working on the cases that came in. And then every Friday night they would head off to the bar on base, drinking shots and forgetting about all the grief that they witnessed in the job. Meeting women, and meeting people who would change their lives.

Gibbs and Stephanie were dealing with their lives, working out how to live in a foreign country.

And yet she was sat there, barely even thinking about the life of Jenny Shepard, but instead the life of Julietta. Hearing a rustle of paper she looked up, her stream of thought broken. The papers that the unknown man had been looking through were passed to 'Sir', who then took out a gold plated pen – the kind which you spun the top of so that the nib became visible – and then began to mark out which ones he wanted.

There was silence once more, Yakov watched with interest, trying to see which ones were about to be bought. She watched him, and wondered once more about his life. The hard to read man who sat with her. Who obviously trusted her more than she ever thought that he would.

Once more silence fell over them all, but only for a few moments. Soon, the unknown man removed a piece of paper from his pocked and scribbled something down on it, before folding it in half and sliding it across the table, along with the marked sheets of paper. The man then said something in Russia, and without even a second thought Yakov instantly acted as a translator for her. Knowing her Russian was rusty at best. "He says that is his offer." The red head turned to Yakov and smiled in thanks before picking up the marked pieces of paper, and scanning over what he wanted then taking the piece of paper and with such elegance she flipped it open.

His writing was rough, written with sharp lines and rushed speed in black ink. The nib of the fountain pen had been pressed harshly into the paper so that there was an imprint in the paper that could be seen from the other side. Roughly she figured out what the exchange rate was, and figured out how many dollars the equivalent was. They all knew Julietta was French, so they'd written the offer in Euros, however that still meant nothing to Jenny. When she finally figured it out, she realised they were a good couple of thousand out.

So, she herself grabbed her bag, and pulled out a black parker fountain pen, and in dark blue ink she scribbled out what they had written, and added a bit more than she needed to to the existing price. Then she folded it once more, and with a smile slid it across the table. "Non." She said in French, before sitting back in her seat and crossing her legs.

The unknown man rolled his eyes, and took the piece of paper back. He rose his eyebrows, and shook his head, before writing a new price down. This continued to go on until they agreed on a price which was exactly in the middle – and actually more than the weapons were worth. When she saw the final bit she smiled, and nodded her head. "Hmm, oui." She stated. And Sir leant across, shaking her hand and smiling at her.

"Merci boucoup." He said to her, and she just smiled. "When will we urm . . . receive the good?" He asked, and she took a look at the list she had been given of what he wanted.

"I'll have to speak with a couple of suppliers, so the delay will be a couple of weeks. But I will put a rush on it." She stated, downing the remainder of her scotch. Then she looked over at Yakov. "I will tell you when I have a date. Then you can pass it on?"

"Yes." He answered.

"Bien." Sir stated, and all of a sudden, they all had a new glass of Scotch as the waiters disappeared with their empty ones. He took his glass, and swilled the auburn liquid around in the cut crystal, before he held out his arm, and lifted his glass. "Salut." And that was it, the deal was done, the op was well under way, and everything was at its peak.

The night had gone right, now all she had to do was get them to take the weapons, and her mission would be over. She could go home . . .

If only she knew what was to come.

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