Jenny’s flaming red hair fanned out on the pillow, hands under her head as she gazed up at the ceiling. The seventeen year old was moving quickly through the college classes for her chosen field, as was her…well, she wasn’t sure what to call him. They were very similar, career oriented and too busy for real relationships, but, of course, they each had needs. Their relationship allowed them to address that without getting too involved in anything. Their plans and lives would not be interrupted by love, of that they were determined. She rolled over onto her side, knowing the movement would wake her Mossad lover. His training was too deeply engrained. “Wake up, Eli.” She murmured. “I can’t be late for my classes and you have a plane to catch.”
“Too bad. I’ve gotten used to America, Israel will not seem so normal anymore.”
Jen laughed. “Just give it time. In a couple of weeks you’ll be wondering how you ever survived here.”
“Well, I’m glad to have been able to spend time with you Jenny.” He replied, kissing her lightly on the cheek.
“Don’t get sentimental on me now, Eli.” She warned. “I’ve got an exam today.”
He laughed too. “There she is. Goodbye, Jenny.”
“Bye Eli.” She watched him get dressed and leave, wondering who she might be able to convince to replace him.
She leaned over the toilet bowl as she vomited, coughing up the last of it. “Damn. Damn! DAMN!!!” She cursed angrily. Birth control wasn’t always effective, she knew that, but why did it have to flunk out on her? She did NOT have time for this. She glared down at the slight bulge that was settled between her hips. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, disgustedly, and strode out to the phone in her small apartment. She dialed hesitantly, then she waited.
“Shalom?”
“Eli?” she asked uncertainly. People really sounded so different over the phone.
“Jenny! Miss me already?” he asked teasingly.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m heartbroken.” She answered sarcastically. “Actually,” her voice became just a little nervous. “I have a problem. I’m pregnant.” She blurted out.
“Oh. I see. What are we going to do?”
“WE aren’t going to do anything. I’m going to handle this. I just thought you had a right to know.”
“Alright, then what are you going to do?”
“Improvise. I’ll figure something out, I just don’t like unexpected changes.”
“They’ll happen a lot in your line of work.”
“I know. Hey, I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“Not at all. Tell me how things turn out, alright?”
“Of course. Bye.”
“Goodbye.” She hung up. What was she going to do? If her numbers were right, the baby would be born right before the next year’s classes. If she could find a way to hide the baby bump until summer, she’d be fine. And then she’d give up the child for adoption. She didn’t need a baby to slow her down right now. But what about her father? He couldn’t know, she decided. She’d just have to avoid visits until after the baby was born. She nodded to herself, briefly. This could work.
Jenny drew her hood farther over her head, bouncing the baby on her hip as the rain came down. Her numbers had been off by about three months, and her daughter had been born, tiny and perfect, on November 20th, 1977. She walked up to the heavy wooden door and took a deep breath before knocking, holding her daughter’s head close to her shoulder as she waited for the door to open.
“Coming!” came the gruff yell from inside. Jenny bit her lip and considered leaving, but before she could decide, the door swung open, and she found herself face to face with her father. The retired Navy commander just looked at her.
“Hello Papí.” She said quietly. “I, uh…I wanted to talk to you.”
“You could have done that on the phone.” He replied, eyes now on his granddaughter.
“I know.” She said nervously. “But I thought…What I mean is…”
He cut her off. “Come in, Jennifer.” He stepped back to let her through. Jenny ducked inside, pushing the wet hood back off her hair. Jasper Sheppard closed the door behind her and led her into the study. Jenny sat down nervously across from her father. It was this devotion to formality that had made her afraid to tell her father about the baby. “May I hold my grandchild?” he asked, perfectly calm. She nodded silently, and carefully passed the bundle over the desk. Jasper adjusted the girl in his arms, reminding Jenny that he had held her as a baby too. “She’s beautiful, Jenny.”
Jenny shifted in her chair, uncomfortably. “I need help Papí.”
“I can see that. Who’s the father? That young Israeli boy you had wrapped around your finger?” she nodded again. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I’d thought about giving her up, but I just can’t do it. All I can think of is that I need to finish my classes, but I have to figure out a way to take care of her. I thought…maybe…you could help me figure something out.” When all else has failed, turn to the people who can do anything. Mom and dad.
“You want my advice?” he asked, not looking up from his granddaughter.
“Yes please.”
“Move back in and leave her with me while you’re at classes. Then, when she’s old enough, either hire a nanny or send her to daycare while you’re out.”
Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you Papí. I knew you’d have the answer.”
He gestured for her to come around the desk, and she went to pick up her daughter. Jasper handed the baby over and then stood up, hugging his daughter. She turned into him, feeling that childhood safety, and the baby let out a little noise at being squished between her mother and grandfather. “What’s her name?”
“Sarai. Sarai Razi Sheppard.”
“Israeli.” He nodded approvingly.
“It means princess.” Said Jenny. “My princess.”
Jenny was always on the fast track, through school, career, everything. Her daughter never seemed to slow her down. In public, she was business-like and sure, but when she got home to her daughter and father, her entire manner changed. Her life revolved around the daughter that didn’t exist in the outside world. Sarai was picked up from school by María, a young Hispanic woman who looked after the Sheppard family, and none of Jenny’s friends or colleagues knew that she had a daughter. Sarai was raised as a child of Mossad, even though she lived in calm Virginia rather than chaotic Israel. Jasper Sheppard disapproved of this upbringing, and never hesitated to say so. He taught his granddaughter differently, bringing in the values of a by-gone era of chivalry and trust. Her teachers remarked on her intelligence and creativity, but also on the quiet, unchallenging way she took on the world. María stood in for Jenny in parent-teacher conferences, accepting the praise that she received on Sarai’s upbringing. Finally, the day came when Jenny no longer had the faculties to teach Sarai the ways of Mossad. Jenny knelt in front of her daughter, straightening the ten-year-old’s collar. “Why can’t you come with me, Mamá?” she asked.
“Because this is your special trip. Don’t you want to go? You like it the last time we visited.” Explained Jenny.
“Grandperé doesn’t want me to go.” Complained the girl, fidgeting under Jen’s care.
“Who told you that?” asked Jen absently.
“I heard you talking. Grandperé doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Grandperé just doesn’t like that you’re going to follow in your father’s footsteps so soon. Come on, Raz. It’ll be fun, yes?”
Sarai sighed. “I suppose so.”
“Now, remember what I told you, okay? In Israel, you’re name is Areille, got it?”
“Yup.” Answered the girl cheerily. “Sara at school, Sarai Razi at home, and Areille in Israel.”
“Good girl.” Jen glanced her over, sadly, then kissed her forehead, patting her arm. “Go say goodbye to Grandperé.” Sarai turned and rushed off, Jenny staring after her.
“Grandperé?” she called.
“In the study, Razi.” Came the voice. “Come here, I’ve got something for you.” Sarai skipped over to her grandfather and he lifted her up onto his lap. He fastened a sliver Star of David around her throat, knowing that it was her chosen faith. “Be true, Princess.” He said softly. “Your parents are teaching you so much, giving you all the skills you’ll ever need, but you must always remember that they have no use if you’re not being true to yourself.”
“But why will this remind me?” she asked, confused.
“Because faith is the one thing you have to find for yourself.” He petted her hair and then sent her back to her mother. “Have fun, Razi!” he called after her. Sarai nodded to show she’d heard him and took her mother’s hand. The two of them headed out to the car and Jenny drove to the airport.
Sarai whirled, tackling the boy to the ground and pinning him there, hardly exerting any energy. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Michael?” she demanded, angrily, pushing herself off of him. “I could have killed you.”
“Not even you’re that good yet.” Protested Michael, straightening his shirt. He cursed himself for letting down his guard with her, as always. He would always get distracted by…well, by her. Her black hair, hanging low on her back, her dazzling green eyes, and the grace with which she moved, like a dancer on stage. They were both only children, but she held his attention like nothing else, making him lose his train of thought as well as their training sessions. “I was just trying to practice.”
Sarai’s eyes softened as they rested affectionately on her friend. She knew what she did to him, and she wished she could change it, knowing that their feelings would only hurt him in the end. Even as a twelve year old, she knew who she was and what she would become. “You should practice on someone else, Michael. One of these days, I’ll hurt you.” He chose to ignore the double warning in her words, focusing instead on the next thing she said. “Please don’t make me do that.” She pleaded gently.
“Give me a chance, Areille.” He said firmly.
“Maybe another day.”
Two years later, Sarai sat on a tree swing in the Davíd’s backyard, sketching. A little distance away, the two young Davíd girls, Ziva and Tahlia, tumbled around, play fighting. Sarai smiled gently at her half-sisters before going back to her sketch. She’d been in Israel for three years, learning all that her father and Mossad could teach her. She looked up when she felt someone sit down next to her. “What’re you drawing, Lela?” asked Ziva curiously.
“It’s you and Tahlia.” Sarai replied, showing her the picture.
Ziva stared at it, taking in the details. “That’s really good.” She told the older girl.
“You can have it if you want.” Said Sarai, handing the finished sketch over.
The eleven year held onto it, her painted nails dark spots against the paper. “Thank you.” She ran off to show her sister.
Sarai packed up her art supplies and headed into the woods behind the house. She stood in her favourite clearing, running her fingers through her hair. “I know you’re there, Michael.” She said softly. “Come out, I won’t bite.”
He melted out of the trees, handsome and taller than average at fourteen. In the almost three years since she’d arrived, he’d never given up on earning her affections. “No,” he admitted. “But you do have a tendency to attack me.”
“Only because you keep trying to sneak up on me.” She replied evenly, not looking at him.
He sighed in frustration. “You’re going to be leaving in a few months, would it really hurt to give it one try?”
“Yes, it would.” Her voice was soft, a little sad. “Can’t you leave it be?”
“No.” he replied, resolutely. “Not until you give me a shot.”
She turned to face him slowly, stepping close. She pressed her lips against his, holding his head in place, not that he could have moved it anyway, even if he’d wanted to. She pulled away, eyes fluttering open. “Should a fourteen year old girl be able to do that, Michael?” she asked quietly.
He was dazed and white faced, lust an unfamiliar sensation in his young body. “I…I don’t think so.”
She shook her head. “I’m here to train, but not for the same things as you and Ziva and Tahlia.” She murmured, rolling the Hebrew off her tongue as seductively as she could. “You haven’t seen enough of life for us to be a good match. Wait a few years, have a few love affairs, then come back and I’ll think about it.” She glided off into the trees, leaving him, confused, in the clearing.
Eli and his wife, Ivanna, dropped Sarai off at the airport. Ivanna drew the fourteen year old into her embrace, hugging her briefly. “Goodbye, Areille.” She whispered in Hebrew, kissing her on the forehead. “Come and visit, alright?”
“I will Vana.” Sarai murmured back. “Thank you so much, for everything.”
Eli petted Sarai’s hair and smiled, gesturing for her to go. Sarai turned and went through security, rubbing her eyes. She’d spent over three years with her father, and he’d never treated her like a daughter, never acknowledged that his blood ran through her as thickly as Jen’s. She settled herself on the plane and leaned her head back against the seat. About eight hours later, she found herself exiting the plane in the Virginia airport. As she rode the escalator down to the main floor, she craned her neck, looking for María. Her gaze passed over the head of shining red hair and she did a double take. There, in the crowd of people welcoming friends and family, was her mother. Jen had never gone out in Virginia with her daughter, only taking her out of state for excursions. Sarai had long understood that she was Jen’s little secret. She started running as soon as her feet were off the escalator. A path rippled open for the teen, adults casting her an amused or annoyed glance before dismissing her entirely. Jen pulled her close when Sarai reached her, holding back tears.
“Welcome back, Princess.” She murmured into the girl’s hair. She held Sarai away from her for a moment, a hand on her shoulder. “Look at you! All grown up.” She said sadly. Her daughter had grown and changed in the last three years, and now Jen could see just how little Sarai resembled her. Apart from milky skin, a European structure, and those incredible green eyes, Sarai was Israeli through and through. A widow’s peak of blue-black hair crowned her forehead, the rest of the hair hanging down her back like a thick, shimmering curtain. Her body was thin, but solid muscle, proof of the training she’d been receiving, and the dark, bowed lips smiled easily. Jen pulled her into a hug again, and Sarai was completely overwhelmed by this out-pouring of affection. “Come on, Grandperé’s waiting in the car.
“Thank you for coming, Mamá.” Said Sarai softly.
“I wouldn’t have missed it, Razi. You’ve been gone too long.”
Stakeout, Queens New York
She was soft, thought Gibbs, absently. Not like in the mind or in her sympathies. It was just that, although she was a slender woman, there were no sharp angles. Every part of her body transitioned smoothly from one to the next. He had been gazing at her back for the last few hours of today, and several hours a day for about a week previously. It wasn't like there was much else to do undercover. She really was beautiful...
"Gibbs." her voice broke his train of thought. Correction, her voice could be VERY sharp when she wanted it to be. "Stop fantasizing and get over here. We may have something." Damn. How the hell...? She hadn't even turned around.
He walked over to her, glancing out the window. “Nah. Just a drug deal.”
Jen sighed, frustrated. “Doesn’t it bother you to see this? It goes against everything I know to just watch and do nothing.”
“Fine, but you have to explain to the Director why our assignment went bust.”
She turned on him. “How do you detach yourself like this?” she demanded.
He shrugged. “Easy. Practice.”
“Of course.” Smirked Jen. “Your turn on lookout. I’ve got to make a call.” She wandered into the other room. Gibbs sat down at the window, wondering who she was always calling. The calls usually lasted about fifteen minutes, and she made the twice a day, every day, without fail. A boyfriend? He wondered. Or a husband and kids? He shook his head. Jen was in her mid thirties and most definitely not the maternal type. Maybe an elderly parent? That was more possible…
Gibbs sat at the window, watching the drug dealer out of the corner of his eye. He sighed. It did annoy him to let this happen. His eyes left the dealer. Especially at times like this. A young woman strode toward the man on the corner. Everything about her, from her platinum blonde hair down to her hips and below, to her translucent blouse and low-rise jeans, screamed sex. The father in him died a little as she perched herself on the dealers arm, flirtatiously, letting him touch her. He felt like storming the deal and dragging the girl home by her ear, after all, she couldn’t be more than twenty. Suddenly, he caught a flash of metal and heard the report of a gun just as the dealer dropped to the ground, dead instantly. The girl gazed down at him for a moment, then nudged his arm out with her foot, dropping the gun down next to it. For the first time, Gibbs noticed the creamy gloves on her hands, almost invisible against her skin. No fingerprints, no DNA, no evidence. She swung around the corner, and he heard the roar of a powerful engine. The deep blue Acura sped down the street, and as it passed the building, the girl looked up at the window, and smiled. Gibbs felt stiff with…fear? For some reason, he felt like she could see him, like she knew him, and like she knew he’d seen her. And, yes, it made him afraid. The cold efficiency with which she’d shot a man in cold-blood, made him sure that she wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate a witness. Jen stuck her head in through the door. “What the hell was that?” she asked, annoyed. She looked like she’d just woken up.
“Someone just shot that dealer.” Replied Gibbs. He had a sudden suspicion. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
“That,” she replied casually. “Would be illegal.” She turned away, heading back to the bedroom. “Call and tell the Director, I’m going back to sleep.”
Gibbs sighed, annoyed, and dialed the Director. “Director, someone just got shot on our street corner. A drug dealer. I didn’t have a great view from here, but I can tell you that it was a woman, no more than twenty, blonde, probably dyed, about five foot and 120 pounds.”
“Anything else?”
“She drove off in a dark blue Acura, I didn’t get the model.”
“Thanks Gibbs. I’ll send someone in. Stay low.”
As much as he hated it, Gibbs occasionally had to leave his house to go to the store. He was walking through the aisles when he saw her, the woman from Queens. Her hair was now a stunning auburn, but it was hard to mistake the length of it or the body it attached to. She was walking with a young man who was so obviously entranced by her that he had to stifle a laugh. His eyes widened when he heard her voice, a low, musical sound, all silk and honey. The can he was holding fell from his hand into the cart, and while the young man didn’t even bat an eyelash, the woman began to lag behind until she had separated from her escort. She turned to face him, tilting her head to the side, and he was pinned as her misty green eyes met his pale blue ones. He noticed the pronounced widow’s peak, looking like a draped, bronze circlet crown on her forehead and those emerald eyes. He saw no hostility, curiosity, or irritation in those eyes, only recognition, but he wasn’t very comforted by that. “You wonder, don’t you?” she asked softly, the Russian sounding like song as she stepped towards him. “You wonder whether or not you should do your duty to NIS.” She turned to the shelf, picking up a box and looking at it as she continued. “You’ll make the right choice. You are a marine, through and through.” She set the box back on the shelf, switching to French. “Au revoir, Monsieur Gibbs.” She turned around and left, he heard her musical voice speaking to the young man a short distance away. Her words rang in his ears. Au revoir, until next time. And she knew his name, knew his history. You’ll make the right choice. His fingers released the cell phone in his pocket. He still wanted to know who she was, but he would not betray her. Not just yet.
Story Notes:
Hey, so if you've read my fan-fics before, you know that I am constantly changing them and every now and then one of my stories will go far enough off track hat I have to rename it and start over. This is one of those stories. I have three verions: Lessons/Matchmaker, Suicide Alley, and now Monster. Monster is more focused on the drama than on the case, and I chose to kill off far less of my characters. If you liked the earlier two verions, you'll probably like this one too, although you may find a scene or two that are identical. Please review and send me your feedback, I truly love to hear it, especially if you think I've done something really stupid and annoying. Thanks so much, I hope you enjoy!
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sarai's upbringing has never been normal, and she herself has never been easy to understand, but after his first run-in with the mysterious child-spy, Gibbs is determined to try.
Chapter End Notes:
Hey, so if you've read my fan-fics before, you know that I am constantly changing them and every now and then one of my stories will go far enough off track hat I have to rename it and start over. This is one of those stories. I have three verions: Lessons/Matchmaker, Suicide Alley, and now Monster. Monster is more focused on the drama than on the case, and I chose to kill off far less of my characters. If you liked the earlier two verions, you'll probably like this one too, although you may find a scene or two that are identical. Please review and send me your feedback, I truly love to hear it, especially if you think I've done something really stupid and annoying. Thanks so much, I hope you enjoy!