I don't own NCIS or any of the characters in the series; if I did then Jenny Shepherd would still be alive, and Gibbs would treat Tony much nicer than he does. This is my first NCIS fic and is the result of me spending way too much time suffering from insomnia and watching reruns of NCIS. I keep wondering about Tony's time on the Seahawk and what he did exactly when he was in Cartagena. It's amazing how the simplest assignments can really come back to haunt you when you least expect it. Enjoy...

Realizations

Cartagena, Colombia, 4 months prior…

Tony DiNozzo sat in the dimly lit interior of the Banana Moon Bar, a beer in front of him and a scowl on his handsome face. Hector, the owner of this particular establishment, had given Tony the best table in the bar since he liked the NCIS Agent. Even with a cold drink and the prospect of some alone-time, he wasn't a happy camper. Finally, after two months on the USS Ronald Regan and another couple of weeks on the USS Seahawk, he was on dry land. The prospect of being off the damn ship for a couple of weeks to do threat assessments of the area had made him almost giddy until he realized that there were strings attached, so instead of enjoying his evening, he was sitting in this bar…waiting. Waiting for who he wasn't exactly sure; when he received the message from DC, Vance hadn't exactly been forthcoming with the name of his contact. All of the secrecy had forced Tony to one conclusion. He was meeting a spook, spy, or agent…whatever the hell they called themselves these days. He ran an impatient hand through his short, spiky hair wondering just how much longer he was going to wait before he called it a night.

He felt rather than saw the woman glide up to his table. Although once he turned to watch her cross the room he imagined that she moved much like a cat would if one could walk on two legs. As she drew closer he could smell the heady scent of jasmine wafting through the humid tropical air. She obviously wasn't one to waste time as she gracefully slid into the chair across from him.

"Agent DiNozzo." It was a statement rather than a question. Her voice was husky, cultured.

Tony nodded and gave her his megawatt smile. Once she sat he was able to make out her features, and suddenly felt as if all of the oxygen in the room had been used up. She was exquisite, so, as she settled herself beside him, he memorized her features. Long, inky black hair framed a heart shaped face with high cheekbones and a cleft chin. He realized that he had been staring and, in an attempt to cover the awkwardness of the moment, asked, "And you are…"

She didn't answer his question immediately but simply gave him a sideways stare, watching him through hooded green eyes the color of emeralds.

"Call me Eve. I've been assigned to assist you with the threat assessments."

"Okay, Eve, if that is indeed your real name. What agency do you work for?" Tony was frustrated with this entire operation, and he decided that baiting his new acquaintance would be as amusing a pastime as anything else.

Eve gave him a smile, revealing very even, white teeth and replied, "It's as good as any. Does it really matter?" She reached into her small bag and pulled out a cigarette case. Extracting one, she put it to her lips. Tony picked up the matches sitting in the ashtray and with a style born from watching countless James Bond movies, struck the match and lit her cigarette. She took a drag and gave another amused smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I see that the stories about you weren't exaggerated." She shifted slightly in her chair and Tony noticed a hint of the tattoo on her shoulder blade. He couldn't tell what it was; only that part of it was visible under the thin black tank top she wore.

Whoa… The thought slammed into his head, making him feel intoxicated. He had obviously been celibate for too long. He had just met this woman five minutes ago, and now the only thing he could think of was how to get her to his hotel room and into bed. His intense green gaze searched her eyes again and felt the electricity hum between them. She reached into her bag again and slid a card across the table to him.

"This is my contact number. Call me in the morning when you get up. We have a lot of work to do."

She stood and quickly disappeared in the crowd. Watching her walk away he wondered if maybe he had imagined the entire meeting until he looked at the card in his hands. The only other thought that crossed his mind was that he really wanted to see that damn tattoo.

It took him two more days before he finally saw it. In those two days she had taken him all over the city and into the countryside as she pointed out the different factions in the area. She had a serene confidence in her own abilities that had reminded him instantly of Ziva. That comparison became obvious when they had gotten into some trouble in one of the poorer sections of the city. Surrounded by hostiles, she hadn't panicked when guns had been drawn, if anything she had reveled in it. They had escaped with no shots being fired, but he realized that there was definitely more to her than he'd originally thought.

Once they arrived back at his hotel she had followed him up rather than simply dropping him off. They had faced each other, the tension in the air as thick as the humidity. Two hours after that, they were lying together in the tangled sheets trying to catch their breath. She had her back facing him, and he was able to admire the artwork covering part of the long lines of her back. It was a tiger stalking down her shoulder to the middle of her back in bold color. Tony found it incredibly sensual, so as they lay there together, the sweat drying from their bodies, he traced it with a feather light graze of his fingers. Tony couldn't describe the emotions he was feeling. It was something akin to peace, the first peace he had felt since the afternoon that Jenny had died. The Sandman beckoned, so he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a protective embrace. Soon after, they fell asleep to the soft whirl of the ceiling fan.

It was the end of the first week before he finally figured out that she was a covert operative for the CIA monitoring the drugs and guns that flowed through the area like water and handling anyone the Agency deemed a threat. She never told him what she did, exactly, but dropped clues like breadcrumbs for him to follow. The day he finally figured it out, she had taken him with her on a stakeout of a potential target. Tony sat with her in a dive of a bar, their eyes concealed by sunglasses as they watched a lieutenant for the local cartel meet with someone who looked suspiciously like a Navy Officer. She had been taking photos surreptitiously with her cell phone so Tony could get an identification for the American sailor.

Sitting there watching the action unfold, he realized how jaded and cynical he was beginning to feel. Nothing seemed to shock him anymore. Tony removed his sunglasses, rubbed his eyes and said in a weary voice, "This is not good. If he's meeting the cartel I assume that he's been smuggling drugs into the states on navy ships."

Eve also took off her glasses and met his world-weary eyes with a steady gaze of her own. "This is the kind of Intel that can get you killed, Tony. You had better be careful to whom you hand it off to."

He gave a tight smile and replied, "I can't do much about it while I'm a captive on that damn boat, I'll send a priority message to the Director of NCIS. In the meantime, we need to try and not get killed while we figure this thing out."

She gave him a conspiratorial smirk and said, "You know what they say, don't you, Tony?"

"What's that?"

"Trouble rides a fast horse." She smiled as she repeated the Italian proverb to him.

"Well," he said, "I guess all we can do is try and stay a step ahead of the little bastard."

They had followed the cartel lieutenant from the bar, and Tony had seen firsthand how she "handled" potential security problems. The knife she kept sheathed in her boot was swift, silent and deadly as she sidled up to and then dispatched the criminal. He had never expected to tag along on this particular type of assignment but had been game when she had asked. As long as he'd been an agent and as many undercover operations as he'd taken part in, Tony had never been present when a sanctioned hit had taken place. He'd thought it might unnerve him or make him think less of Eve, but all it had done was increase her mystique. For her own part, Eve had been completely undisturbed by the act she had just committed. In fact, she had simply leaned over and snapped a picture of the body with her phone for verification before she quickly led him from the area to avoid suspicion.

The last night before he'd had to report back to the Seahawk had been spent at the Banana Moon drinking tequila shots with beer chasers. They both knew that their interlude was ending, and in Eve's case, she knew that she would most likely never see Tony again. As they had each of the previous ten nights they finally ended up in his hotel room, their physical attraction for each other impossible to fight.

She drove him to the airfield to meet the Cod back to the ship. Once they arrived, Eve handed him a packet of pictures and again warned, "Don't give this to the wrong person, Tony. You'll get us both killed."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a last kiss. His lips pressed against hers warmly. He forced her to look up at him and said, "You know, you never told me your last name. We've spent a lot of time together both in and out of bed, don't you think I should know who I'm sleeping with?"

She gave a short laugh but refused to meet his intense gaze. Tony finally shook his head and turned as if to walk towards the plane waiting to take him back to the ship when he heard her reply,

"It's Dupree."

Although he looked for her whenever he was on shore, that was the last he saw of her for the rest of his cruise.

NCIS, Navy Ship Yard, Washington, DC, Present Time

Supervisory Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs was enjoying the quiet calm of the bullpen. He had his first cup of coffee and was enjoying it and his solitude. It was still early, and none of his team had made an appearance yet. The only movement was from Megan, the morning mail clerk. She walked up to Gibbs' desk and offered him a stack of mail. Before he could even turn his gaze to any of it, the elevator signaled its arrival. Tony DiNozzo, Ziva David, and Tim McGee all walked in together. Gibbs glanced at his team as they each made their way to their respective desks. Watching intently as they settled themselves, Gibbs stalked over to McGee's desk and dropped the pile of mail on it. He turned to walk away when his computer specialist's voice stopped him.

"Uh, Boss… I think you need to look at this…" His voice trailed off as Gibbs did a 180 and snatched the envelope from his hands.

"What is so important, McGee?" Gibbs' steely, blue eyes scanned the mailing address on the envelope for a second before he yelled, "DiNozzo!"

Tony, who had just settled into his chair and had begun to read through his e-mails, jerked his head up and replied, "Yeah, Boss!?"

"Why are you getting mail from Cartagena, Colombia?" Gibbs held out the offending envelope.

Tony reached out his hand and plucked the envelope from Gibbs' fingers. He looked at the flowing, feminine script and the return address and inhaled suddenly.

"Eve." His voice was nearly a whisper as he stared at the envelope in his hand.

Ziva had been watching the proceedings with undisguised interest, but as soon as she heard Tony mention a woman's name, she walked over to his desk to steal a glance at the envelope. No sooner than she made her first attempt, he pulled the envelope away and shook his head. "No, Zee-vah, this is for my eyes only."

Grinning to himself at his Bond reference, Tony opened the envelope carefully and pulled out the folded sheet of paper. Feeling Gibbs' presence behind him, he picked up the thin sheet of stationary. If her handwriting hadn't already been a dead giveaway, the familiar scent of her jasmine perfume wafted from the paper. Unfolding the paper, Tony leaned back in his chair to read.

Tony,

I hope you're doing well. After you returned to the ship my engagement ended, and I'm trying to return home as I mail this. I'll see you as soon as I get to D.C.

Love,

Eve

Tony almost dropped the paper in shock, but years of working undercover allowed him to school his emotions and features to give nothing away. He gave a smug smile to cover his feelings of unease.

Gibbs, reading the letter over his Senior Field Agent's shoulder, frowned. He had only been on the Seahawk for a couple of months. How exactly had he had enough time to meet someone and "help" her end her engagement? Finally, he gave a slightly disgusted growl of, "Back to work people." He paused and turned a beady stare to his Senior Field Agent. "DiNozzo, l hope you didn't do something really stupid by getting mixed up with the wrong girl."

Tony gave Gibbs his best wide-eyed "who me" face and turned his attention to the letter again. He stared at the page; his mind was filled with images of the two weeks he has spent in Cartagena with her. Who was Gibbs kidding? He was in neck deep and if there ever was a wrong girl… What the hell was going on, though? From her note he could only ascertain that Eve was apparently in trouble and heading to Washington to see him. This was not good in too many ways for him to even begin to calculate. Finally, he grabbed the letter and placed it in his jacket pocket, mumbled a hurried, "Going to get coffee." to the room at large and made a quick exit with his cell phone in hand.

Ziva, who knew her partner about as well as anyone with the exception of Gibbs, felt uneasy at both the letter and Tony's reaction to it. It had seemed off to her so she turned to both Gibbs and McGee and stated, "Tony did not seem to be himself, yes?"

Gibbs, staring intently in the direction his Senior Field Agent had just traveled, seemed to ignore the question from Ziva, but privately he agreed. He had worked with DiNozzo for over seven years, and he had never known him to intentionally involve himself with someone who was engaged or married. There was something hinky about the whole affair that he just couldn't put his finger on and he felt a gnawing in his gut that something bad was going to happen.

Eve smirked to herself and ran her hands through her long, dark hair. She felt a bit like celebrating. Not only had she finally gotten out of Colombia alive, but if her calculations were correct then Tony should have received the letter she had sent him. She glanced down at the cell phone clipped to her belt. It was crazy to have brought it, but it was the only phone that Tony had the contact number for. It was an agency phone, and she would have to discard it sooner rather than later. She only hoped he would get the message from her letter and call, but if not, well then she had a contingency plan. Giving herself a mental pat on the back she limped slowly from the airport and caught a passing cab. She had errands to run, and time was of the essence.

Since Tony knew the questions were going to start as soon as he opened the letter he had felt it prudent to leave the office while he ruminated on the potential consequences it was going to bring. He knew that getting mixed up with Eve again was going to royally screw up his life, and there was no way to avoid lying to most of his co-workers. Lying to Gibbs though, that was going to be the hardest thing to do and he really wanted to avoid it if it were at all possible. It had been four months since he had last seen her at the airfield. The two weeks they had spent together had been exciting, and he had missed her once he transferred back to Washington. She had known how to live in a way that made him a bit jealous; their two week affair was stored in his mind as the only positive part of his whole Agent Afloat experience. He sat in the small coffee shop and reached for his wallet. In the back he still had the card she had given him the first night they met. Taking a sip from his cup he dialed her number and prayed she would answer.

Eve's phone rang shrilly as she sat in the cab heading away from the airport. Grabbing it from her belt, she glanced at the caller ID and felt nothing short of relief when she recognized Tony's number. Flipping it open she answered with a brief, "Yes."

Tony almost dropped the phone when he heard her answer. He closed his eyes, thankful at hearing her voice on the other end of the line, and asked in a terse tone, "Just where exactly are you, and will you please tell me what the hell is going on?"