Space

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Girls Just Want to Have Fun

Jennifer Shepherd rode in the back of her agency sedan, staring at grey buildings as the vehicle crawled along in the city traffic. They were unremarkable, undistinguishable against the grey winter sky, all displaying opaque windows hiding various workers as they toiled through their daily lives. There were few business people and even fewer tourists out on the street in the dismal weather. It suited her mood. Nothing was going according to plan, and the director wasn't pleased. She'd arranged things so carefully, set her players meticulously, yet none of them were keeping to the script.

She clenched her blood-red, perfectly manicured nails into the palms of her hands. She'd just left a meeting with Admiral Montague, who yet again insisted on answers about when this investigation would be wrapped up. He was aware that his son's roommate had been killed – the roommate whose disappearance started the entire investigation. He wanted answers on who was responsible and how deeply his son was involved. He'd also demanded to know what Jenny was doing about it.

When the Admiral spoke, he expected a swift response. Jenny could usually smooth ruffled feathers and schmooze with the best of them. The Admiral, however, only wanted to cut through the bullshit and get to the point. No wonder he liked Gibbs. She felt humiliated that she didn't have nearly the information the Admiral wanted, and it made her look both useless and incompetent.

Things weren't supposed to happen this way.

Charles Montague was an important figure in the Navy and on the Hill. He could be a significant ally if she could gain his trust and confidence. She needed to reign her people in and satisfy the Admiral's needs, ensuring it appeared as if everyone were operating under her control. Politics worked and was influenced by whoever held the clout. She wanted to be seen as a power player, and a significant collaborator in getting things done. Admiral Montague's disapproval could put a serious damper on her future, so she needed to display her political savvy. To do that, she required progress and answers.

With that in mind, she raised the privacy glass between herself and her driver while simultaneously hitting Gibbs' well-worn extension on her phone.

It was past time she had an update and got all the details. It seemed Gibbs needed another reminder of who was actually in charge. He was prickly and arrogant on the best of days, rarely respecting non-military authority, but she was also aware of his continued attraction to her. She might not have military experience, but she wasn't above using her feminine wiles to her advantage. Anyone could be manipulated if you found the right buttons to push. She could smile and flirt, add a throaty purr to her voice, while also showing her teeth if necessary to get what she wanted. Gibbs should know how important her career was to her. She'd left him for it once before, and she'd never regretted that decision.

She expected her senior agents to toe the line and keep her appraised of their progress. How else could she highlight her tight control?

"Yeah, Gibbs," he answered, sounding as brusque and annoyed as he usually did when he was interrupted by silly things like phone calls from his boss.

"Jethro, I've just come from a meeting with Admiral Montague, and he wants more information on your progress. As a matter of fact, so do I," she said icily.

"Found Matt Evans," Gibbs replied casually.

"What?" she asked, startled. "When? Why am I just hearing about this?"

"His body's not even cold, Jen," he replied, and she stiffened at his patronizing tone.

"Where did you find him? What happened? Do you have the others?" she asked, annoyed by his brief responses.

Somehow, she doubted that if she hadn't called she would've heard out about this latest development with any kind of timeliness.

"Found him this morning, alone in a motel room, single GSW to the back," Gibbs said.

"How did you find him? Where did you get the lead?" she asked, her teeth clenched.

Getting anything out of him was like pulling teeth. Why couldn't he just spill the damn information. All the information. He really could be insufferable.

"McGee got a hit on Stephanie Lake's credit card. Fornell and I found the body," he said.

"Any sign of what happened to the killer? I'm assuming you believe it was one of the Warrens," she said.

"Fornell has a team over there now searching the place. Haven't got the results back yet," he said.

"What do you have, Jethro?" she asked, annoyed.

"A dead body."

She pressed her lips together, trying to control her temper. If she began snapping, he'd just become more obstinate. Better to rile up his anger by hitting him where she knew it would leave a mark. That should get some answers.

"What about Agent DiNozzo? Has he been debriefed? Does he have any insight on where these people might be hiding?"

"He told us about the building where they held him. We've had it under surveillance since, but no activity," Gibbs said, his simmering anger rippling through the phone line.

"Due to his abduction, we've lost our only valuable source of information. I want details on how that happened," she said.

"You know the details – his back-up screwed up. I'm taking care of it," Gibbs snapped.

"Taking care of it how? If you're still punishing Ziva and McGee, then you're slowing them down. We need to wrap up this investigation, then we can deal with their misstep. There's more than one side to a story," she said, knowing she was playing with fire but hoping it would lead to more results than she was getting.

"But only one of them paid the price," he said coldly.

Jenny's hackles were raised, knowing that was a dig at her faith in Ziva. She needed Ziva on that team so she could control the flow of information. She wasn't about to let him sideline her personal spy. She'd carefully cultivated her relationship with the young Mossad operative when they'd worked together in Europe. She knew she could trust the Israeli's loyalty, keeping her apprised of any potential difficulties on the MCRT, along with the occasion to take credit for their many successes. Gibbs was a nightmare if the press got to him, but Jenny knew she could manipulate those opportunities with just the right amount of spin.

"I'm not going to get into this again. Are you using every resource to find these people? I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the threat they pose to the military," she said.

"I'm more than aware. It's nice to hear you still are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped, losing the cool she'd worked so hard to maintain.

"Just that. You seem more focused on how our investigation is affecting your political standing," Gibbs said, voice rising on every word.

"I resent what you're saying, Agent Gibbs. My concern is for everyone involved – including the Admiral. NCIS's reputation is part of my responsibilities," she said coldly.

"Could have fooled me," he said.

"Watch your tone," she snapped. "Don't think I won't slap the insubordination complaint you're been seeking against Ziva in your jacket."

"Wouldn't be the first," he said, unconcerned.

"I'm aware. Now, answer the damn question. When do I get a debrief from Agent DiNozzo? I want to know exactly what happened," she said.

"Ask your pet," he snarled before the line went dead.

She stared at the phone incredulously. There's no way he just did that. He wouldn't dare.

She was alarmed that Gibbs wasn't rolling over and at least pretending to care about her demands like he usually would. Perhaps the distance and long case was clouding his memories. She needed to be within sight for him to get those brief flashes of their once hot and steamy affair that she knew haunted him. He was easier to manipulate with those memories in his head. She'd used his attraction against him since her arrival. It only strengthened when he'd lost his memory and was left with only his flashes without all the sticky details behind them.

"Jethro? Jethro?" she asked, knowing it was futile.

There was no way he would've ever hung up on Tom Morrow, and she wasn't going to stand for it. She'd fly to Philadelphia herself to grill Agent DiNozzo if she had to. What on earth was going on there? Jethro always walked a thin line bordering on insubordination, but he rarely stomped over it. He valued his career more than that.

Something else was going on.

She still had her private source, even if he was aware of it. She wanted to know the specifics before she decided on any retaliation against Gibbs. He was infuriating, but he got results, and results were what she needed to make herself look good. No matter how difficult and obnoxious he was, Jethro Gibbs was necessary for her success – whether he wanted to be or not.

She made a second call, surprised when it was answered with even more hostility than the one she'd just finished.

"David," Ziva snapped.

Jenny was taken aback. "Ziva? What's wrong?"

She could practically hear the Israeli pulling herself together on the other end of the call. "Nothing, Director. What can I do for you?"

"You can tell me what's got you so bothered. I just spoke with Gibbs, and he also sounded agitated," Jenny said.

"He always sounds that way," Ziva said.

"True… but you don't. Is there a problem with the case?" Jenny asked.

"I would not know. I have not had anything to do with it for days," Ziva said, her irritation very clear.

"What do you mean?"

"Gibbs does not trust me," Ziva said.

Jenny rolled her eyes. For a Mossad operative, Ziva could be so dramatic.

"I'm sure that's not true. He's upset that you and Agent McGee lost sight of Agent DiNozzo, and he was hurt. He'll come around. The case will always come first," Jenny said reassuringly.

She didn't have time for two attitudes. She needed these people to just do their damn jobs. It was a serious offence, one that would have any other operative suspended, if not outright fired. Jenny couldn't afford to lose Ziva's influence on the MCRT, and she couldn't discipline just one of the offenders.

"No… I am afraid it is more than that," Ziva said hesitantly, and Jenny could sense her frustration.

Ziva didn't want to share whatever was going on any more than Jethro had, but Jenny was done with pussyfooting around whatever was going on. It was interfering with her investigation – and her potential career advancement.

"Why don't you tell me exactly what the problem is, and I'll decide where we go from here," Jenny said, keeping her voice sickly sweet.

Ziva was silent for a moment too long, and Jenny was sure she was trying to find a way to spin whatever she was going to say. It didn't matter. Jenny would get to the bottom of it and reign both of them in. They worked for her, after all.

"It seems I made a language error. You know how your idioms sometimes confuse me," Ziva said.

"Yes, I'm aware," Jenny said, rolling her eyes.

"When I picked up the handbag we left at the bar containing the listening device, I made a comment that it smelled like a pig. The device was still working, and apparently my meaning was misconstrued," Ziva said sourly.

Jenny clenched her eyes shut, her mind automatically filling in the blanks.

"Oh, Ziva," she moaned.

"I know – now. I just meant that it smelled bad, but everyone thinks I am a stitch," Ziva said.

"A snitch," Jenny corrected her wearily.

"Whatever. They all look at me as if I have something disgusting on my face," she said.

Jenny sighed. "Most law enforcement gets touchy about someone blowing their cover. Is that what led to Agent DiNozzo's abduction?"

"Apparently, but it was not my intention. Obviously. I am a professional, as you well know," Ziva said, her irritation and indignation rising once again.

Ziva didn't like anyone questioning her skills or her judgement, and Jenny could just imagine the dirty looks the other agents would be throwing her way. Ziva wouldn't be able to tolerate it. She liked to believe her skills were far superior to anyone else, and she could get nasty when challenged. It was time to do some placating, or this could all blow up in Jenny's face.

"I know how good you are, Ziva, and Agent Gibbs knows it, too. You just have to practice some humility. Put on a contrite face, do your job. You're good enough to come up with a clue, and all will be forgiven. You know Gibbs – he's all about who did what for him in the moment. The pendulum will swing again," she said.

"I hope you are right," Ziva said petulantly.

"I am. Tell me what else is happening," Jenny said, feeling as if she was herding a bunch of overtired toddlers.

"Gibbs has been spending all his time at the hospital babysitting DiNozzo. He is here in the office today, however," Ziva said, clearly annoyed by how Gibbs was spending his time.

"Well, that's good then. Work with him. Remind him of your skills and how valuable an asset you can be. Don't be sullen or demanding. He won't respond well to that," Jenny coached.

"He does not seem to respond well to anything I do," Ziva said.

Jenny pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know that's not true. He's very fond of you."

"Only when DiNozzo is not around," Ziva said.

"That's not true, either. You know how DiNozzo is – you were the one that compiled that dossier. He's a playboy jokester – inconsequential. He won't hold Gibbs' favor for long. It's just that he's hurt, so Jethro feels protective. It will pass, and he'll be slapping him on the back of the head before you know it. You just need to stay the course," Jenny said, once again grinding her fingernails into her palms.

"That is another thing. I think, perhaps… just possibly that dossier was a small bit incomplete when it comes to Agent DiNozzo. He has proven remarkably persistent in his distrust," Ziva said tightly.

Ah, that was it. Ziva hated to feel as if she'd somehow made a mistake, particularly if anyone else pointed it out. It ate away at her. She wasn't wrong. DiNozzo was far more resourceful and layered than the intel indicated. Of course, if Gibbs trusted him so much, Jenny should've realized right away. Still, that revelation wouldn't calm Ziva down and get her back to work.

"Perhaps, but we both know how juvenile he can be, and Gibbs doesn't approve – he tolerates – for results. Get some results, and he'll tolerate your language error, as well. I need you there and working up to your high standards, Ziva."

"Do not worry, Director. I am doing my job, and I know exactly what needs to be done," Ziva said.

A thrill of foreboding trickled down Jenny's spine, but she must be imagining the threat she detected in Ziva's words. The Israeli knew why she was here. Jenny needed her mole to smooth the way so she could take credit for the MCRT's success. Ziva was loyal, and she wanted to help. That was all.

"Very well, Ziva. Keep me informed," the director said, feeling uneasy.

"I will let you know as soon as there is something to tell."

/* /* /* /*

Wound tighter than a drum, Abby drove her hearse into the Navy yard, parked, and hopped out. She was on her first secret mission, and she was both excited and determined. This was her chance to be a real field agent – in the actual field – and she was super eager. She'd also drank eight Caf-Pows on the ride back from Philadelphia, so she conceded that might have something to do her excitement.

She was here to get the evidence against Ziva hidden in Tony's desk, and she was determined to succeed without detection. She couldn't let Gibbs down, particularly after he'd trusted her with this important part of their secret plot. She'd been certain that he'd nix letting her get involved, but she was delighted to be proven wrong. He trusted her with this. She also couldn't let Tony down, particularly when he looked so vulnerable in that hospital bed. He was hurt because of Ziva, and that couldn't be allowed. Abby didn't like seeing him this way – not only wounded physically, but emotionally, too.

She knew Tony. They'd been friends for a long time, and she knew him well enough to realize he was hurting, no matter how hard he tried to cover it. He rarely held a grudge and was the most easy-going of all of them, despite his teasing nature. The fact he never let his guard down when it came to Ziva should have registered with Abby sooner.

She should've always been on his side.

The fact she'd failed him by accepting Ziva would forever haunt her. She didn't like the Mossad woman at first, either, but when Ziva kept offering to help her work, seeking her out to ask about shoes, or clubs, or where to find a good winter coat, it softened Abby's resolve. She'd been fooled, which was the same as lying, and Abby couldn't tolerate liars.

She could do this, even if she was physically trembling with the idea of getting caught. Madam Director didn't know what they were up to, and Gibbs specifically told her to keep it that way.

She had no problem getting through the main gate, and she parked her car towards the back of the lot where she hoped not too many people would notice it. She was supposed to be on vacation, after all. Of course, the hearse stuck out no matter where she parked it, so that might've been a moot point.

Walking through security, she kept her head up, eyes focused straight ahead. She placed her bag on the conveyer belt and walked through the metal detector without making eye contact with anyone.

"Hey, Abby. What are you doing here? I thought you were on vacation," Ernie, one of the security guards, said.

Ernie had been with NCIS forever, and his wife made the best brownies on the planet. He frequently brought in a tray to share with the workers, first come, first serve. Since Abby typically came in so early, she usually managed to snag one. After a while, Ernie started putting one aside for her on the rare occasions she came in late – usually when she had to appear in court.

"Hey, Ernie," she said nervously, biting her lip as she realized this would be her first test.

Ernie looked at her, puzzled, until Abby remembered he'd asked her a question.

"Oh! I am still on vacation. I'm not staying. I only forgot something so I had to come back. Something I need for my vacation. I'm not looking for anything else," she said in a rush.

Ernie frowned. "Okay, well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your vacation. You deserve it. You work too hard."

"I know. Human Resources has been bugging me about using my days forever. Of course, they're usually bugging everyone about something – usually attending one of their endless seminars. Anyway, they should be happy I'm using my days, right?" she asked, her heart thumping so hard she was afraid he might hear it.

Ernie chuckled. "Not me. I usually use mine all up, then regret when I don't have a day left to spare."

"Wish I could give you some of mine, Ernie, but I have to go," she said, beginning to walk away.

"Have a good one," he called.

Once inside the elevator, Abby's entire body sagged. She really hoped she didn't run into anyone else. Who knew being sneaky would use up so much energy? Lucky for her, Gibbs gave her specific instructions. She was to go to her lab first and pull out some of her decorating supplies. That way, she could return through the bullpen and put them up on all the MCRT desks like she usually did when they were away.

Easy peasy.

At least, it should be. She really hoped the director wouldn't have a change of plans and see her there. Cynthia told her that she was supposed to have a meeting today with some of the political mucky mucks. Director Shepherd sure liked politics.

Abby walked through the bullpen without anyone approaching her and demanding to know why she was there. If someone questioned her too thoroughly, she was afraid she'd give the game away. She was a terrible liar.

Once she entered her beloved lab, she cringed to see her replacement touching her babies. She walked into her office and pulled open a drawer in her file cabinet where she kept decorations for every occasion. She gathered some streamers and a large, red 'You Were Missed' sign and turned around – only to find Darrin, the replacement Forensic Scientist, standing in the office doorway.

"Hey, Abby. What are you doing here? They told me you were using up required vacation time," he said.

She and Darrin worked opposite shifts, only overlapping if one or the other had a hot case. Someone else must be covering Darrin's shifts. He was tall and gangly with a mop of ginger hair. Like her, he preferred to work alone and any intrusion into the lab while he was there was usually met with hostility. It was always tense when they both had hot cases, and she'd noticed most of the agents avoiding the lab whenever that occurred.

"I'm not staying," she said immediately, her eyes roaming to see what he'd messed up. "I'm leaving to visit friends, but I had a few hours with nothing to do, so I thought I'd decorate for the MCRT."

She was proud of getting that out without stuttering. She memorized the line on her drive back from Philadelphia – while she'd been sucking down her Caf-Pows. Tony told her what to say – like pretending to be in a movie.

"Oh, cool," Darrin said, visibly relaxing.

"I'm not here for any other reason at all, but I don't have a lot of time. Major Mass Spec doesn't like to be crowded, you know," she said, noticing how close he'd moved the specimen tray to her best resource.

"I haven't found the Mass Spectrometer to be temperamental, at all," he replied, his tone remarkably cooler.

That was the problem with Darrin. He treated her babies like inanimate objects. She'd have to do a lot of placating when she returned. They were always moody if Darrin was there too long.

She shrugged but couldn't stop her eyes from being drawn back to the Major. It took all her restraint not to go over and move the tray.

"I'm sort of busy here with a case. I need to get back to work," Darrin said pointedly.

Fuming, Abby turned her back with a huff and carried the supplies back to the elevator. How dare he think he could kick her out of her own lab. She was the senior scientist. It was her lab. She knew he wanted her job, but he was crazier than she thought if he was trying to push her out. This was her home, and she had no intention of moving anywhere. She'd have to make that very clear upon her return. For now, though, it was time to get back to her mission.

The elevator spit her out into the bullpen, and she went to Gibbs' desk first. All her instincts screamed for her to run right to Tony's desk, but one Very Special Agent coached her to play it cool. Do another desk first and make sure there was no one watching her too closely.

He'd been right, too. A few of the other agents looked over as she began to put up her decorations, but they soon lost interest when they realized she was just hanging streamers. Tony and Gibbs both had her six, and although she knew she was technically part of their team, this felt like really being part of the core – even doing field work.

Today, she was Special Agent Abby Sciuto, and she had a mission. Once Gibbs' desk looked appropriately welcoming, she moved over to Tony's, hanging a few streamers there, too. She covertly reached into her pocket, her eyes scanning the bullpen wildly as she wrapped her fingers around Tony's keychain which held two small keys.

She pulled them out, keeping them clutched in her hand, her black nails shielding them from view. She put another streamer around Tony's computer, just in case anyone saw her pause. No one confronted her, so she slipped the larger of the two keys into the lock, and the bottom drawer slid open easily. She was sweating, and her palms were so slick, she dropped the keys inside the drawer. The clatter as they hit the metal box seemed to blare across the bullpen.

Her breath hitching, she frantically retrieved them, glancing around anxiously. Knowing she was running out of time, her heart thudding so hard it was painful, she put the small key into the lock box and opened it.

As Tony said, the cassette tape and an envelope were right on top. That wasn't what caught her attention, though. All Gibbs' medals were also inside the box, placed meticulously with such care that it caused tears to spring to her eyes. It was such a sweet thing to do, revealing Tony's softer side that few people ever got to see. He really did have such a big heart; despite the fact it had so often been bruised.

She sniffled as she slipped both the tape and the envelope holding the flash drive into her bag. She gently ran her hand along the medals, caressing them. She wondered if Tony kept them polished. They were so shiny. Gibbs didn't care about them, but Tony obviously did.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed SSA Rick Balboa approaching, so she quickly re-locked both the box and the drawer before he reached her, feeling out of breath and anxious.

"Hi, Abby. Getting the desks ready for their return? You're brave to mess with Gibbs' desk. Tony will like it, though. Have you heard anything?" Balboa asked, smiling warmly.

Abby crossed her fingers beneath Tony's desk. "I don't know. I haven't spoken to any of them. I just want it to be ready when they get back… you know… whenever they get back. I don't know when they'll be back."

Balboa's grin faltered. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Of course. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? I'm decorating. I love to decorate, don't you? It's so sad all the Christmas decorations have come down, but these brighten things up, don't you think?" she asked, eyes wide, feeling desperate.

"Aren't you supposed to be on vacation?" he asked, now looking rather concerned.

Balboa often looked at her as if he didn't know what to make of her. Not everyone was a fan of Goth attire, although she couldn't understand why. It was so much more interesting than the boring stuff the agents wore. Right now, though, he looked a little suspicious, increasing her anxiety tenfold.

Some higher power must have been looking out for her, however, because before she even had a chance to come up with a story, Agent La Montaine, Balboa's SFA, called to him.

"Balboa, we've got a body just pulled from the Anacostia."

Without giving Abby another glance, Balboa turned and quickly walked toward the elevator where his team was gathering.

Breathing a sigh of relief. Abby placed the big red sign over McGee's chair and hurried from the bullpen.

Ziva's was the only desk left without a single, bright decoration.

Note: I promise Tony is back in the next chapter. Feedback is always appreciated.