An apartment in Virginia, a job as a history professor at a community college, and no involvement with her parents’ politics. This was what Jasper Sheppard had always wanted for his granddaughter, and now she finally had it. To some extent.
Sarai kept her ear to the ground for any news of Jen and Eli searching for her, but her parents seemed to have understood why she’d left because they didn’t come after her. She went down to the gym regularly to spar with whoever felt brave enough to try, usually men who wanted a chance to ask her out, and she was always armed, but aside from that, she had left everything behind her in Tel Aviv.
While she could have switched accents in a heartbeat if she’d wanted, she chose not to lose the accent that marked her as an Israeli national, just as she kept her natural looks. Maybe it was foolish to highlight herself in so many ways, but she was tired of deception, so she just left things as they were. Unfortunately, one side effect of this decision was the gossip that followed her arrival. A gorgeous, young, distinctly Middle Eastern woman arriving in town was clearly big news, and the fact that Sarai kept to herself for most of the summer weeks leading up to the beginning of term didn’t much help.
The first day of classes saw her awake earlier than usual, and she glanced herself over in the mirror. Her dark hair hung in a loose curtain down her back, covering the slight signs of a knife and a small firearm at her hip. Sarai took a deep breath and smiled, letting her expression relax and fall into place, before heading out the door. A real smile flashed across her face for a second as she climbed into the pale silver Acura she’d just bought. Maybe it was a cliché, but she liked fast cars. They created just a little of the rush that she got off of her assignments with a slim to none chance of her getting killed comparatively. But there was a time and a place for everything, so she forced herself to drive at the speed limit all the way to the college and suppressed her sigh of regret when she turned off the ignition. She climbed out and made her way to the classroom she’d been assigned, frowning at the cold impersonality of it and making a promise to herself that she would add some life to the room. Sure enough, she heard the carelessly efficient footsteps of her new friend a moment later. “Morning Lisa.” She called out, not even turning around. “Go ahead and drop those papers on the table, I’ll go through ‘em in a minute.”
Lisa sighed, annoyed. “How do you do that?” she demanded. “I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re blind or something, it’s the only reason I can think of that you know who’s coming by their footsteps.”
“Practice.” Replied Sarai. “That’s how. My brother and sisters were always trying to sneak up on me. Believe me, it was self-preservation.”
“Yeah, mine did the same thing, I just never learned how to avoid it.” Laughed Lisa. “Anyway, I’ve got your attendance sheets, syllabi, and that questionnaire you wanted.”
Sarai dropped the chalk onto the board’s little ledge and turned, wiping her hands on her slacks. “Thanks.” She flipped through the papers and set them down in three different stacks on the table, perching herself on the corner of it. “And now we wait.”
“So, how many of them do you think are going to be brave enough to actually ask?” Lisa leaned back against the wall grinning. “I’ve already been asked a million and two questions, and not one of them was about the course.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Laughed Sarai, rolling her eyes. “I mean really, I’m not that interesting!”
“You’re kidding me.” Lisa stared at her. “Honey, let me give you a sample.” She feigned a prissy little voice. “Do you know if she’s from Iraq?” she mimicked. “She’s so dark, are you sure she isn’t Pakistani?” Back to the normal voice. “And so I had to explain that Pakistan is a completely different place from Iraq. Oh, but are you sure she isn’t from there? I mean, do you know if she’s got a Koran?”
Sarai laughed at the imitation. “No!” she gasped, wiping her eyes. “Damn war’s got everyone looking for terrorists in their own backyard.” She giggled.
“Well, Professor Davis,” said Lisa seriously, a deadpan face. “You do have a very plain and historic name, and it’s really very clear that you’re from somewhere in the Middle East.” A second later the two of them were laughing so hard they were almost crying, unable to keep a straight face anymore.
“Oh, I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, Lis.” She gasped, struggling to regain her composure. “Damn, this should really be interesting then, shouldn’t it?”
Lisa nodded to the students trickling through the door, looking terrified of their new teacher. “And this is the Freshman class too.” She whispered conspiratorially, pushing off the wall. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.” Sarai watched as students trickled in until all of the seats were filled and tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear nervously. Time to start her new life.
“Abby!” yelled Gibbs over the pounding rock music. He glanced in the wastebasket by her computer, heart sinking when he saw six Caf-Pows inside. The Goth turned to look at him, and he realized that she’d aged about five years with Kate’s death. He sighed and turned the music down to a semi-reasonable decibel level. “You remember that print I had you run a few years back?”
“You’ve had me run thousands of prints Gibbs.” She replied miserably, turning back to her computer.
“You know which one I’m talking about Abbs.” He told her quietly. “I need to talk to her.”
Abby turned away and began fiddling with the machines in her lab. “It’s been over six years since I ran that print Gibbs. Did you ever consider that she doesn’t want to talk to you?”
“Only ever single, damn day.” He retorted angrily. “And I’ve respected that for almost seven years, but I was told to back off Ari and I want to know why.”
Abby’s head jerked up. “You think she has something to do with it?” she demanded.
“I don’t know Abbs.” He sighed. “Can run a facial recognition program for her?”
“Can you describe her?” Abby volleyed back. “I can design a face and run it, but it’ll only be as accurate as your memory is.”
Gibbs nodded, steering Abby into her office and pushing her into her computer chair. “It’s not a face you forget.” He said grimly.
“Alright, shoot.” Ordered Abby. “Let’s see if our luck is any better now.”
Gibbs closed his eyes, trying to recall every piece of the face that he hadn’t seen in almost a decade. “Blonde hair, long and straight. Bright, dark green eyes. Light skinned. Mostly European features, but some Israeli.”
Abby frowned. “Well which ones are which Gibbs? I could combine them any one of a thousand ways.” she pointed out.
“Her bone structure was very aristocratic.” He clarified thoughtfully. “But she had a widow’s peak and darker-toned, bowed lips; more middle eastern.”
“And now we factor in height and weight....” muttered Abby.
“Five foot seven, eight, and a dollar fifty.” He offered.
She typed the statistics into the computer and the image adjusted slightly for the numbers. “Is that her?” she asked, leaning back in her chair.
“Yeah.” Gibbs dragged his hand through his hair, frustrated. “That’s her.”
Abby stared at the computer picture, frowning. “It doesn’t look right.” She commented. “I mean, I don’t know what she looks like, but the details just don’t really seem to go together.”
Gibbs glanced at her and then at the screen. “You know, you’re right.”
“The hair.” Realized Abby. “That’s what it is, I remember my cousin spent months trying to get her hair that colour, and when she finally gave up and went into a salon, they mentioned that it’s actually not possible for hair to be that colour naturally. You’ve got to strip out all the colour and then put in just the right amount of a really specific dye. It’s really hard to get it like that.”
“So what’s her real hair colour then?” asked Gibbs, puzzled by all the talk of feminine hair-related beauty.
“Not even I can tell you that, Gibbs.” Laughed Abby. “All we can do is hope that her hair colour isn’t as rare as her eye colour is. Genetically, it’s almost impossible to get green eyes. Usually both parents have to have green eyes, but there’s like a one in a million chance that one parent could have another colour. They’re often paired with red hair, but that’s also a recessive trait, and it’s not likely that this girl got more than one genetic miracle. You said European and Israeli. There’s a fairly good chance she wound up with black hair.” Offered Abby.
“Alright, try that.” said Gibbs, relieved to move away from topics he had no understanding of.
She typed a code into her computer and the silvery blonde locks were replaced by black. “Now THAT looks right.” Said Abby triumphantly, gesturing to the screen. “What do you think?”
Gibbs shook his head in disbelief. “I think it’s time to find out who ‘Secret’ really is.” He replied. “Run it against everything you can think of Abbs, military, agency databases, terrorist watch-lists, CIA, hell, even high school yearbooks.” He paused. “Actually, try the yearbooks. Anything near Quantico the last thirty years, okay?” He turned and began to walk away.
“That’s a lot of pictures to go through Gibbs!” Abby called after him.
“Better get started then!” he called back. “Call me when you have something.”
Three months later.
Gibbs hadn’t even gone home last night, and as per usual no one had arrived for work yet. He sat at his computer, tired eyes still attached to the screen, reading through Ziva’s report. She wasn’t such a bad agent, really, and he knew that her heart was in the right places, but he still wasn’t sure where her loyalties lay and that worried him a little. He was pretty sure that she would no longer blindly follow her father’s orders, but she was still Mossad, and it would take a lot to get her to care as much about NCIS’s interests as she did about Israel’s. He didn’t look up when the elevator dinged, so Abby’s excited voice startled him.
“I found her Gibbs, I found her!” cried Abby, racing out of the elevator. She skidded to a stop in front of his desk and held out a file proudly.
“Who Abby?” asked Gibbs, puzzled.
The Goth rolled her eyes. “Your runaway date, of course.” She sighed, like it was obvious. “I’ve been running her likeness past every picture I could find, and I just got a hit. We were right about the hair. Name’s Kyra Davis, she’s a college professor at University of Virginia, just started working there. Guess when?”
“Right after Ari died.” He said grimly. “What the hell is Mossad up to?”
“Dunno.” Shrugged Abby. “But I’d take a look at her file before you go see her. Anyway, I found her address and phone number. There’s not much on her, kept herself pretty clean, but what there is, I put in that file. My work here is done, good luck.”
Gibbs grabbed the file, pausing to kiss her cheek as he hurried over to the elevator. “Thanks Abby. Can you keep quiet about this for a while?”
She saluted him with a pleased smile. “Whatever you say, mon capitain!” she giggled, watching the silver doors slide shut between them.
Sarai wiped down the chalk-board at the front of her room as her students lingered over their packing. She’d noticed that no matter how many times she dispersed a rumour, there was always a new one to fill its place, a little like it had been when she’d first arrived at Mossad, and while it annoyed her a little, she actually found it entertaining to hear the theories, and encouraged her students to share what they’d heard. As it was, a lot of them would stay after class and chat with her about just about anything they could think of, and more than one had attempted to ask her out. She’d been getting a lot of that, actually, students, coworkers, and even some of the relatives who came to visit the school. She sighed, stacking a bunch of papers into a pile and trying to fit them into her already-full bag. She cursed under her breath as half of the papers slipped out of her hands and covered the floor, kneeling down to pick them back up.
“Here, let me help you with that.” The deep, familiar voice made her stomach twist and she forced herself to stay calm as Gibbs knelt down beside her, gathering up a small pile and handing it to her.
She tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, nervously, and took a deep breath before looking up. As always, her mind went blank and her breath hitched when she saw those pale blue eyes watching her, his expression unreadable. “Thank you.” She replied hoarsely, clearing her throat with an anxious laugh. “Sometimes I think the inevitable fate of a teacher is to drown in homework.”
“This is not the way I expected to run into you again, Raz.” He said softly, taking the stack of papers from her frozen hands and setting them back in the table.
Her smile faded and she broke their gaze, shame and pain in her eyes. “I did not expect to see you again at all Jethro.” She murmured. “In fact, I counted on it.”
“Was it really that bad?” he asked, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “If I asked Ziva, would she say you’d moved on, or that you were still in love with me?”
“Ziva would say...” Sarai swallowed, closing her eyes. “...that if you called my apartment, there would be a seventy-five percent chance that a man would answer the phone, and a hundred percent chance that it would never be the same man twice.” She replied, smoothing her skirt down carefully.
He flashed her one of his lopsided smiles, amused, and she realized that both Lisa and the college kids that were still in the room were paying close attention to them, enjoying the show. “So you went back, huh? I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried.”
“It is not your obligation to be either.” She retorted, wiping at her eyes hastily. “It has been too long for any of it to matter anymore.”
“No.” he shook his head gently. “After what you’ve been through, nothing I could do for you in six months was going to make it matter.”
“And what have I been through?” she hissed, burying her heart in ice to control her emotions, just as she’d always done.
“You weren’t even fourteen in Queens.” He pointed out. “I have your, sorry, Kyra’s, file.”
“Papers can lie.” She whispered.
“Maybe.” He conceded, tugging on a lock of dark hair. “But your eyes can’t. They’ve always been very expressive, huh? And I know you well enough to hear what they’re saying.”
She shook her head, beginning to panic as she pulled her bag towards her and put away the loose papers. “No, no, I have to....”
“Your next class isn’t for another half-hour.” The slight desperation in his voice made her look up. “Please just talk to me, Razi. What did I do wrong?”
She sighed, biting her lip. “Nothing.” She replied, touching his shoulder for a brief second. “You did everything right, Jethro, I just....Can we talk about this later?”
He followed her gaze to the small group of girls that were inching steadily nearer in order to hear their conversation. “We will talk right? You’re not going to disappear on me again?” he clarified.
“I am not going anywhere.” She agreed, resignedly. “I take it my address is in that damn file?” He smiled and she nodded. “I thought so. Say hello to Ms. Sciuto for me, will you?”
“Bye Raz.” He turned and left, dipping his head to the girls as he passed them. They giggled, embarrassed, and hurried out as well.
She watched him walk out of the classroom, perfectly aware that Lisa had crept up behind her. “Forget about it Lis.” She sighed, turning back to the big oak table. “It is not important.”
“That look on your face says it is.” Pointed out Lisa, practically giddy with excitement at her friend’s little encounter. “Spill.”
“Maybe later.” Agreed Sarai vaguely. “Right now, I have a class to prepare for.”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “You know I won’t let this go.” She warned her friend/boss, folding her arms over her chest.
“I know.” Laughed Sarai. “Later.” And with that, she shooed the younger woman away and went back to her papers.
Her lips moved in an amused smile as she heard her front door open and close, Gibbs’s footsteps deceivingly light after years of practice. “I have a doorbell you know.” She pointed out, slipping a bookmark between the pages to mark her place and setting the paperback down on the side table. She curled up tighter to make room for him as he came around the couch.
He pulled out his Sig, setting it by her book and settled back into the cushions next to her. “I had an invitation.” He reminded her, glancing at the title on her book. “Don’t you get enough of the spy game in real life?” he asked. “Why read about it too?”
“It seems so much more fun when written about by people who have no idea what they are talking about.” She replied thoughtfully. “And this way I get to remember all the romance of it without the bad things.”
He glanced at her quizzically. “Remember?”
Sarai nodded, absently. “I finally got up the courage to tell my father to go to hell and make my own choices.” She murmured. “I am done with all of it, and I do not intend to go back.”
“I’m proud of you.” He told her gently, rubbing his thumb over her knee.
She looked down at her scarlet-painted toes, ashamed. “Don’t be.” She replied, her voice coming out sharper than she’d intended. “I caused too much damage, and my reasons for leaving were purely selfish. I cannot make up for what I have done.”
“You were a kid, Raz.” He said firmly. “What in hell did you know about all that? If anyone’s responsible for what you did, it’s your parents. You’re a good girl, you did what they told you to, nothing more.”
A memory flashed across her mind; an explosion rocking the whole world around her, her body flying into a wall, strong, camouflaged arms carrying her through the maze of smoke and destruction. She blocked the images quickly, not wanting to go back down that road. “Not always.” She said quietly.
“Good.” She looked up, surprised by his tone. “There’s no point in blindly following orders, it doesn’t help anybody.”
She couldn’t help the smile, feeling her heart warm back up at the praise. Before she even realized it, she’d moved herself into his lap, curling up with her head on his chest. He was surprised by the switch, but recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around her. “I did miss you.” She murmured, enjoying the feeling of him playing absently with her hair.
“Good.” He repeated, softer this time. “I missed you too Raz.”
“Me or the sex?” she teased, tilting her head up with a wicked smile, but there was a valid question in her eyes.
“You.” He replied confidently. He pressed his lips to her forehead, shifting a little to better accommodate the shape of her body.
She bit her lip gently, thoughtfulness replacing the curiosity. “Do you think I made a mistake?” she asked quietly. “About us? Should I have stayed?”
“I think there’s no point asking what could have happened because there’s nothing we can do to change it.” He replied slowly. “It’s better to ask what we want to do now.”
Sarai leaned up, brushing her lips over his, and she slipped back into the patterns from before. Her fingers slid into his hair, pulling herself as close as possible, trying to taste as much of him as she could while he was here with her. “Can you forgive me?” she rasped, the slightest anxiety showing in her eyes as her mouth hovered over his.
“For what?” he asked, too lost in her taste and scent to figure it out for himself.
She paused, hands framing his face, emerald eyes locked on his pale blue ones. He could see the struggle there and realized that there was something she was trying very hard not to tell him. “Everything.” She replied finally.
“There’s nothing to forgive, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He told her gently, fitting his hand in the small of her back. “So whatever it is you’re worried I’ll be angry about, I promise I’m not. I’m just happy to have you back Razi.”
Relief showed on her face before a wicked smile flashed across it. “And who says I am taking you back?” she teased.
“You would kiss me like that and walk away?” asked Gibbs, feigning astonishment and tightening his arms around her.
“Maybe.” She replied impishly.
“Well I guess I’m going to have to do something about that.” he growled back.
She let out a soft shriek as he picked her up easily, carrying her back through the apartment. “Arrogant bastard.” She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. She let her head fall back and he nipped at her throat before laying her down on the bed, acknowledging the silent request.
“So I’ve been told.” He agreed. He stretched out over her and dropped his mouth down to her skin, nipping and tasting his way along. “But I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“I guess not.” She moaned as she began to melt for his seduction. “I take it back. You may arrogant, but you have every right to be.”
He smirked against her soft skin. “Then we agree.” He observed, inching her blouse up. “We’ll give it another shot, a real shot this time.”
Sarai nodded, smiling up at him. “Shall I tell Lisa I have a boyfriend then?” she asked innocently.
“A very jealous boyfriend.” He added. “I saw the way those college boys look at you. I bet they like to stay after class and ask stupid questions.”
“As a matter of fact, they do.” She pulled his mouth down, kissing him as hard as she could. “But I assure you, I am all yours.”
“Good.” He said for the third time. “I like that.”
She slid her hands up his chest gently, popping the buttons of his shirt open. “Patience has never been one of my strong points.” She pointed out when he cast an amused glance at her.
He laughed, sending thrills up her spine. “Fair enough.” He murmured. He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on silent, dropping it on the bedside table, and then held out a hand for hers. She gave it to him and he turned it off as well. “No interruptions.”
Her body was still humming from his touch the next morning and she rolled on top of him, placing butterfly kisses along his jaw until he began to wake up. “Not morning yet.” He slurred, squeezing his eyes shut.
Sarai suppressed a laugh and kissed him full on the lips. He responded enthusiastically, making a low sound in the back of his throat when she pulled away but she just shook her head. “It is time to get up Jethro.” She purred. “We both have to go to work today, and I do not think I have anything that will fit you.”
“I’ve got a change of clothes in my trunk.” He shrugged carelessly, eyes tracing the flex of her muscles as she dressed. “Do you really need those?”
She tucked her seven-shot into the waist of her jeans, glancing at him over her shoulder. “It is just a habit I guess.” She replied absently. “At Mossad, you would have to be dead to go unarmed, so now it feels strange to be without my weapons.”
Gibbs frowned, pushing off the covers and grabbing his jeans. “I took Ziva’s weapons the first day she was on the team. Sig Saur, back-up pistol, and a knife.”
“Do you really think that’s all she had?” laughed Sarai, latching her bra and pulling a shirt out of her closet. “I taught that girl myself. As long as she is in the field, she will be better armed than that.”
“I’m going to have to talk to her about that.” he muttered. His eyes darkened when she pulled her shirt over her head, the scarlet silk clinging perfectly to every curve on her body. “I don’t think you should wear that.”
She glanced down, dismayed. “I like this shirt.” She protested, fingering the hem. “Is it really that bad?” He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. He nipped softly at her neck, his hands sliding down to rest on her bottom and pulling her hips flush against him. She gasped, curling her fingers into his arms at the feel of his arousal. “Oh!” She breathed, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his.
“I really like that colour on you.” He said hoarsely. “But this...,” He ran his hands up her sides and they caught on the soft fabric. “This is just cruel, baby girl. I don’t think you know what you would be doing to all those poor students of yours, let alone what it’ll do to me to think of you in this while I’m at work today.”
“In that case, I’ll be sure to wear it more often.” She replied innocently. He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck, and she laughed. “You will be fine Jethro, and my students will have to take care of themselves.” She pushed him away gently, kissing his cheek, and headed out.
He closed his eyes and took a moment to cool back down before getting dressed and following. He found her in the kitchen, fixing coffee and eggs. “You’re a morning person aren’t you?” he observed.
“The caffeine shots help.” She replied, handing him a cup. He sipped it warily, than relaxed when he realized she’d made it the same way he always drank it. She watched, amused. “I know my way around marines, Jethro.” She laughed, taking a sip from her own cup.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “That so?” he asked, watching her blush spread from the tip of her nose outward as she set her half-empty mug down.
“My grandfather was a marine.” She amended hastily. “He took care of me when Mamá was not around, which was most of the time. I also know you.”
He smiled at her embarrassment and pulled the velvet box he’d brought with him out of his pocket. He eyes locked onto it, shock flashing through them for a moment before she masked it. “I meant to give this to you last night, but I got a little...distracted.” he opened it and lifted the silver chain out.
Her expression turned soft with delight and amazement as he came over and clasped the necklace around her throat. Her fingers flew to the silver star, closing around it. “You kept this?” she whispered.
“It was important to you.” He replied, resting his chin on top of her head and putting his arms around her waist. “I just always figured I could give it back to you when I found you.” She shook her head in disbelief, covering his hands with her own where they rested over her stomach. “I never stopped loving you, Raz, and I’m really hoping you still love me.”
She pulled away, tucking back her hair nervously. “I am afraid to love you.” She whispered, pinned by his blue gaze. “But I can’t help it.”
“The one thing in the world you’re afraid of.” He sighed, cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb across it. “What can I do?”
“Just...just give me time.” She replied. “Time to leave Mossad behind.”
“You’re really done, huh?” he asked, impressed and pleased.
“I am never going back.” She agreed confidently, then she faltered. “But you are a part of it all.”
He tipped her chin up gently, forcing her to look him in the eye. “I will keep you away from it.” He told her firmly. “I promise. You can do whatever you want with your life now, and I’ll help you every step of the way.”
“It is my life, isn’t it?” She smiled hopefully, considering this semi-new idea. Suddenly, she threw her arms around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder. “Thank you.” She murmured.
Gibbs hugged her back and she pulled away, looking much happier than before. He kissed her softly. “Come on, I’ll drive you to work.”
Story Notes:
Ah, the part of the story that I just in order to kill less people and better fit my timeline. I hope all of you murder mystery buffswill forgive me and keep reading
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sarai's new life as a civilian is very different, but she's determined to stick it out. A visit from an old friend makes it that much harder for her to forget her past.
Chapter End Notes:
Ah, the part of the story that I just in order to kill less people and better fit my timeline. I hope all of you murder mystery buffswill forgive me and keep reading