[fanfiction] Mistakes
TITLE: Mistakes
AUTHOR: marciafan
CHARACTERS: Jenny Shepard, Ziva David (hints of Jibbs)
GENRE: General, Friendship, Slash? (Not sure, but maybe you can read it that way too)
PROMPT: #63. Mistake (@ madame_director)
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 901
SUMMARY: An undercover op to get into a trafficking ring sounded like a piece of cake. Or maybe not.
WARNINGS: Pre-series.
A/N: This is basically an useless pre-series piece inspired by Rihanna's song "Russian Roulette", which has been stuck in my head for days now. I do believe things were different in that situation, though. Maybe one day I'll write a fic about it. Also remember that English is not my first language and this is not beta'd, so please bear with me.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, nor am I making money out of this. If I were, I'd be rich by now.
“This undercover operation is the easiest we’ve been assigned in a while, isn’t it?”
Special Agent Jennifer Shepard almost snorted as her own words echoed in her memory. Her partner, Mossad Officer Ziva David, hadn’t been as sure as she was, but Jenny, after working anti-terror ops with the her for almost six months, started to think that the woman had a pessimistic approach to each and every mission.
An undercover op to get into a trafficking ring sounded like a piece of cake.
Jenny was supposed to get into the ring as an American druglord’s buyer, get the Egyptian dealers to trust her and have them setting a meeting for her with their boss. And of course it had worked perfectly fine, until she had to go and ruin everything.
By somehow accidentally challenging one of the dealers.
Probie mistake. Those were the words that rang in her head as she was shoved into a chair in front of a dirty table. Jethro would have slapped her silly for something like that, for pissing off the guy she was supposed to bring in, for giving her targets the chance to take her to an old, dirty apartment in a godforsaken area somewhere in Cairo.
Thinking of her ex-lover, with the memories even the mention of his name brought back, wasn’t the smartest thing she could do in that situation. So she tried to push the thoughts way out of her mind while the man in front of her bare his dirty, black teeth in a sickening smile. Spinning the cylinder of a revolver and placing it on the table.
Russian roulette. She knew the game. Wasn’t sure she wanted to play it.
“I said I’m good at shooting, but this is not what I had in mind to test my ability.” She said slowly in Arabic, enhancing her American accent just a bit. A woman wasn’t appealing as a partner in business. A woman who claimed to shoot better than a man was a threaten. “And this is not about ability, I’m afraid.” She muttered in English as she glanced at the gun.
“Shoot.”
The word was spat at her in thickly accented English, and she swallowed hard, surveying the room with rapid eyes.
Two men were pointing shotguns at her and another one, the guy who spoke to her, was hovering on the table, invading her personal space in a way that made her sick.
Her eyes stopped on the weapon, thoughts whirling in her mind. One shot, one possibility. There was no way she could take the chance to try and shoot one of the two armed men. Even if she succeeded in shooting one, the other two could easily take her, as she wasn’t carrying her SIG.
Her hand moved over the gun and she swallowed hard again, biting back a yelp when the man’s hand pressed down on hers and made her grab the cold, possibly lethal, revolver.
Lifting her hand and the weapon up to her head.
Praying to whatever god might be listening, Jenny wished deep in her heart that Ziva had managed to tail them somehow. She was her backup, but their contact had been broken off once Jenny was roughly shoved in the backseat of a black car.
She felt the man press his fingers on hers, forcing her to pull the trigger, and she closed her eyes.
The bang echoed close to her, and Jenny jumped visibly, expecting pain. But all she could feel was a heavy weight on her shoulder. And she only heard noise, noise everywhere.
She opened her eyes and stared at the scene in front of her for just a second, immediately jumping up and grabbing the guy’s gun, the one she knew was loaded.
Two shots on her part and a few more from her partner, and the two men were out. As were the two other men trying to access the apartment.
“Are you okay, Jen?” Ziva grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the place, stopping shortly in the shadows out of the building when she got no answer. “Jenny?”
Jenny took a deep breath and nodded, smiling inwardly at the concern she heard in the other woman’s voice, “I’m fine, Ziva.” She paused for a moment, looking deeply into her eyes, “I owe you. You saved my life.”
Ziva waved her hand, as to say it was no problem at all to storm alone into an apartment occupied by three armed men and taking them out to save her partner’s life, “Follow me.” She whispered, taking off and leading the way through the dark alleys of Cairo.
When they finally got to the car Ziva had left a few blocks away, she turned to the redhead, smiling sympathetically to her worried look.
“It is going to be alright, Jenny. Do not worry about screwing down the operation.”
Jenny couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the idiomatic mistake, “Up.”
“What?” Ziva looked at her, confusedly.
Her hand sought Ziva’s and she entwined her fingers with hers. Smooth skin warm at the touch, white and dark mixed together.
Jenny looked at their joined hands for a second and allowed a sense of relief to flood her, a small smile appearing on her face.
“Nevermind. Everybody makes mistakes.”
THE END
AUTHOR: marciafan
CHARACTERS: Jenny Shepard, Ziva David (hints of Jibbs)
GENRE: General, Friendship, Slash? (Not sure, but maybe you can read it that way too)
PROMPT: #63. Mistake (@ madame_director)
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 901
SUMMARY: An undercover op to get into a trafficking ring sounded like a piece of cake. Or maybe not.
WARNINGS: Pre-series.
A/N: This is basically an useless pre-series piece inspired by Rihanna's song "Russian Roulette", which has been stuck in my head for days now. I do believe things were different in that situation, though. Maybe one day I'll write a fic about it. Also remember that English is not my first language and this is not beta'd, so please bear with me.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, nor am I making money out of this. If I were, I'd be rich by now.
“This undercover operation is the easiest we’ve been assigned in a while, isn’t it?”
Special Agent Jennifer Shepard almost snorted as her own words echoed in her memory. Her partner, Mossad Officer Ziva David, hadn’t been as sure as she was, but Jenny, after working anti-terror ops with the her for almost six months, started to think that the woman had a pessimistic approach to each and every mission.
An undercover op to get into a trafficking ring sounded like a piece of cake.
Jenny was supposed to get into the ring as an American druglord’s buyer, get the Egyptian dealers to trust her and have them setting a meeting for her with their boss. And of course it had worked perfectly fine, until she had to go and ruin everything.
By somehow accidentally challenging one of the dealers.
Probie mistake. Those were the words that rang in her head as she was shoved into a chair in front of a dirty table. Jethro would have slapped her silly for something like that, for pissing off the guy she was supposed to bring in, for giving her targets the chance to take her to an old, dirty apartment in a godforsaken area somewhere in Cairo.
Thinking of her ex-lover, with the memories even the mention of his name brought back, wasn’t the smartest thing she could do in that situation. So she tried to push the thoughts way out of her mind while the man in front of her bare his dirty, black teeth in a sickening smile. Spinning the cylinder of a revolver and placing it on the table.
Russian roulette. She knew the game. Wasn’t sure she wanted to play it.
“I said I’m good at shooting, but this is not what I had in mind to test my ability.” She said slowly in Arabic, enhancing her American accent just a bit. A woman wasn’t appealing as a partner in business. A woman who claimed to shoot better than a man was a threaten. “And this is not about ability, I’m afraid.” She muttered in English as she glanced at the gun.
“Shoot.”
The word was spat at her in thickly accented English, and she swallowed hard, surveying the room with rapid eyes.
Two men were pointing shotguns at her and another one, the guy who spoke to her, was hovering on the table, invading her personal space in a way that made her sick.
Her eyes stopped on the weapon, thoughts whirling in her mind. One shot, one possibility. There was no way she could take the chance to try and shoot one of the two armed men. Even if she succeeded in shooting one, the other two could easily take her, as she wasn’t carrying her SIG.
Her hand moved over the gun and she swallowed hard again, biting back a yelp when the man’s hand pressed down on hers and made her grab the cold, possibly lethal, revolver.
Lifting her hand and the weapon up to her head.
Praying to whatever god might be listening, Jenny wished deep in her heart that Ziva had managed to tail them somehow. She was her backup, but their contact had been broken off once Jenny was roughly shoved in the backseat of a black car.
She felt the man press his fingers on hers, forcing her to pull the trigger, and she closed her eyes.
The bang echoed close to her, and Jenny jumped visibly, expecting pain. But all she could feel was a heavy weight on her shoulder. And she only heard noise, noise everywhere.
She opened her eyes and stared at the scene in front of her for just a second, immediately jumping up and grabbing the guy’s gun, the one she knew was loaded.
Two shots on her part and a few more from her partner, and the two men were out. As were the two other men trying to access the apartment.
“Are you okay, Jen?” Ziva grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the place, stopping shortly in the shadows out of the building when she got no answer. “Jenny?”
Jenny took a deep breath and nodded, smiling inwardly at the concern she heard in the other woman’s voice, “I’m fine, Ziva.” She paused for a moment, looking deeply into her eyes, “I owe you. You saved my life.”
Ziva waved her hand, as to say it was no problem at all to storm alone into an apartment occupied by three armed men and taking them out to save her partner’s life, “Follow me.” She whispered, taking off and leading the way through the dark alleys of Cairo.
When they finally got to the car Ziva had left a few blocks away, she turned to the redhead, smiling sympathetically to her worried look.
“It is going to be alright, Jenny. Do not worry about screwing down the operation.”
Jenny couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the idiomatic mistake, “Up.”
“What?” Ziva looked at her, confusedly.
Her hand sought Ziva’s and she entwined her fingers with hers. Smooth skin warm at the touch, white and dark mixed together.
Jenny looked at their joined hands for a second and allowed a sense of relief to flood her, a small smile appearing on her face.
“Nevermind. Everybody makes mistakes.”
THE END