𝐍𝐎 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ━━ 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐳𝐳𝐨

TWENTY SIX | port-to-port killer

"You're sure this is a good spot for this?"

"It'll be quick and easy. And then we'll be done before you know it."

"No way. Are you kidding me?"

"Drop your pants, Mrs. Giudice."

My gaze remains narrowed on the brunette man in front of me.

"Come on, I'll be really fast. I'll be in and out." Tony's gaze lowers to my more-than-hidden cleavage in the maroon blouse. "I promise."

"Oh, my God." I growl under my breath.

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"It's actually back home where there aren't other people. It's not in this damn elevator, I can tell you that much."

"Turn around, sweetheart."

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

His palm braces the reflective surface of the elevator while I unbutton and yank down my dress pants. He cleans the area before injecting the hormone-filled syringe into my taut skin.

"Told you I'd be quick."

"I hate you."

"I love you, too."

Just as the doors open with a ding, the rest of the N.C.I.S. team stands just outside with their go-bags already in hand.

"This isn't —"

"He was just —"

"Dead Naval officer in Virginia. Go."

McGee and Ziva feign humorous chuckles under their breaths, leaving Gibbs to just silently drink his coffee.

In the midst of a harvest field under the beating sun is the victim himself, Seaman Derek Balfour, wrapped and bound in plastic wrap. Add in the metro card used postmortem and his eyes physically shifted towards D.C., and the killer has left us with a message.

"I thought you were in Miami."

"I lied. I was in the parking lot."

Ziva and the unfamiliar man face each other in the middle of the bullpen, where Tony and I share suspicious glances.

"You have been very creepy today." She giggles lightly.

"Sneaky." He corrects with an amusing grin. "And yes, I have. But for a very good cause."

"What do you know?" Tony snaps towards me in a hushed tone.

"As much as you do." I reply instantly.

"Hello, Evaline."

". . .afternoon, Ray."

A low whistle escapes McGee's parted lips while I cower under Tony's questioning glare.

"Um, introductions, Ziva?"

"Oh, um, right. Of course. Uh, Ray Cruz, this is everyone."

One by one, she weaves through the desks and names each agent and allows him enough time for him to shake everyone's hands.

"Gibbs, can I give Ray a tour?"

"Yeah, sure. Don't lose him."

"It's been a pleasure meeting all of you."

Once the two of them part ways with us, Tony sneaks a palm against my rear end, dangerously close to the injection site from this morning.

"Ow!"

"How'd you know him?"

"Jerk."

"Answer the question."

"Ziva introduced me earlier." I rub a hand over the sore spot. "We're women, alright? Of course she told me about Ray before you. You're all judgemental men with an insane amount of testosterone pumping through your system."

"What was that?"

"I didn't mean you, Gibbs. Or McGee."

"Yeah, McGee isn't much of a man, is he?"

Smack!

"Alright, alright. So you just meant me."

Tony and Gibbs venture to the victim's apartment where they encounter Agent Barrett also casing the apartment.

In search of the Port-to-Port Killer.

"The Port-to-Port Killer is a highly egotistical individual."

Barrett sits in one of the desks at the outskirts of the bullpen, isolated from the rest of us as she sifts through our evidence.

"He's lethal and determined and. . .you're all welcome to join me." She gestures to us. "I'm not really into yelling from all the way over here."

"We can hear you fine." Gibbs remarks, his back still turned to her.

With a sigh of defeat, she turns back to the computer to deliver the profile. "Suspect is a white male, anywhere from 25 to 55, never married, no children, and born into money. He is charming, charismatic, and very entitled. He's killed in Japan, Guam, Spain, and now the U.S.. No connection between any of his victims, besides the fact that they're all Navy or former Navy. He is well-traveled, multilingual, and adapts to other cultures easily. And, as you know, his M.O. suggests he has medical training of some kind."

"Doesn't tell us why he gives them a promotion before he dumps them."

"Or why he leaves things behind."

"The flower from Balflour's apartment told us nothing."

"It could clue us in on where he's headed."

"I think he's still here." The blonde retaliates. "And he's not leaving anytime soon."

Some light argument ensues between Gibbs and Barrett when McGee calls us over with a lead suspect and a perfect match to the profile: Bryce Leitner.

"I can't believe he didn't tell me."

"Come on, Ziva."

After hearing about Ray's involvement with the Port-to-Port Killer case, Ziva dragged me out for a "pleasant" stroll in the park.

"He lied to me. I mean, what does the C.I.A. call it, disinformation? Or is it a cover story?"

"He was probably just protecting you. Thought it would be for the best."

"I do not need protection!"

"What if he slept with Agent Barrett?"

"He would've told you if he had. Give the guy some credit."

"Well, what if none of it was real? What if he was just planning to use me to get information, just in case things with Barrett did not pan out? Am I a part of his back-up plan?"

". . .I knew I should've told you to take Ray on this walk."

She huffs a breath. "What about you? Were you and Tony being. . .intimate in the elevator?"

"Of course not." I scoff aloud. "I needed to take my medicine, and it's through a needle, so he kindly helped me."

"Kindly?"

"Alright, he wanted to help me. Any chance to take my pants off, that man."

Upon discussing matters with Ray, Ziva returns with a contradicting conclusion that Leitner is not the killer.

But war hero Nathan Finney is. At least, he was, until we found his dead body in a freezer with fresh flowers on top.

"Scotch, sir. And a club soda for the lady."

"You're not drinking?"

"Nope. Not when I'm trying to get knocked up."

His palm presses to the small of my back. "We're gonna have a baby. I promise." And he secures a kiss to my temple.

"Let's hope."