Protection Detail
Summary: After JD, Jenny's closest friend must decide when and if it is safe to disclose a secret. When does keeping a secret no longer apply? Especially when it involves Gibbs?
Disclaimer: NCIS is owned by DBP/CBS/Paramount. I have used story & lines from Seasons 3-7. No copyright infringement is intended. The background & other characters are from my imagination. A.J. is my own personal muse. I started this story over almost two years ago- the computer died and my muse went on hiatus.
Pairing: Jenny/Gibbs and the friendship between Jenny/Ziva
Rating: T+ It may venture into M, but I'll try my best to give proper warning when/if it does.
Author's Note: My version of what I would have liked to have seen happen. I am of the opinion that the writers of NCIS want us to forget that Jennifer Shepard ever existed. I refuse to do so. I also hate not finishing what I start, so this is my attempt-after 2 years! Ha! This is dedicated to "Jenny"—a character I will always dearly love and admire; and to Ellie, who helps me remember reasons why.
Washington, D.C. October 2010
Ziva David was finishing up the last five miles of her run. It was a good morning for a run in D.C. Her breath was evident in the frosty morning air. As she jogged, she thought of the argument—no, the discussion- that she and Tony once shared on an elevator. Looking back, it seemed so many years ago. In truth, it had been years. Although some still found her demeanor distant or detached, she knew that Tony was right. Down deep, she really was "just a girl". Having and showing emotion did not mean that she was weak. Securing her citizenship and facing the demons with her father had helped her come to terms with struggles that had haunted her since leaving Israel for good. She finished her run, slowing to a walk to catch her breath. She pulled the bright orange watch cap from her head, letting her long brown hair tumble down her shoulders. Today she had taken a new route. One that she had mapped out two weeks earlier, but that she had not tried until now. Today, she thought, was a good day. A day for- what was the American word?
"Reflection"
Looking down at the watch cap, she allowed small sad smile to cross her exotic features. Roy. Roy would have understood without having to ask her to explain. Today, however, she was here to pay respect to another friend: A confidant; a mentor. She walked across the park and towards the cemetery.
She had found the marker without difficulty. She stood beside a large oak tree and surveyed the area carefully before venturing out. Some things did not die- this old habit was one of them. She made sure she was alone. She looked curiously at the gray granite stone. In the early morning light, it looked so cold and impersonal. It did not in any way reflect the person it was was left to represent. She approached and knelt, uncharacteristically letting her hand trace the words:
JENNIFER SHEPARD
October 28, 1963- May 20, 2008
"Shalom, Jen" she said into the stillness.
The sun broke through the clouds and as she looked up, the remaining leaves on the large oak reflected a glorious golden red. Visions of the first time she had met her friend and thoughts of the shared secrets and promises made since that day. Instead of tears, she smiled. And let she herself remember.
To Be Continued…