TITLE: Addiction
AUTHOR: nicis_anatomy
CHARACTER: Jenny Shepard
GENRE: Gen, General
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 1000
SUMMARY: Jenny wouldn't be Jenny, if she would be satisfied with what she had achieved, when there were still some goals to reach. – Written for prompt #24 Reverse Fandom (St. Elsewhere) for lj's ncis1000words
WARNINGS: The story is not beta'd, since I started writing too late. Hope it's not as bad as I think it is ...
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. If I would Season 5 would have ended different.
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The office was nearly dark, only lit by the dime light coming from her computer screen.
Jenny stood at the window, staring at the harbor in front of her. The cup of coffee she was holding in her hand was barely touched. She hadn't taken a sip in a while, actually, she hadn't taken a sip of the dark liquid at all.
Coffee … it had once been the drink that had helped her through the day; a bad habit she'd taken from Jethro a few month after she'd started working with him. First it was only one cup of coffee in the morning, later she had one at home, another one in the office, and it hadn't taken long, before she had become a female version of Jethro: nowhere to be seen without a cup of coffee in her hand. Without caffeine she couldn't exist anymore, like she just wasn't alive without it.
A year ago this had changed, and she had started to replace coffee with another bad habit Jethro had introduced her to.
Brown. Strong. Bad for her health, and as much as addicting as coffee. Unfortunately, these hadn't been the only side effects Jenny had rather reluctantly wanted to miss out on. Bourbon had helped her to concentrate, which was a good thing. It had helped her survive each day she'd to spent in the office working, and each and every night she'd sat at home, deep in thoughts, while anger and sadness were trying to destroy her from the inside; and there was much anger inside of her - more that a single person should carry around, and also the sadness was more than she could bare, but the worst part had been that a great part of the sadness had led only to more anger.
Bourbon had helped her to choke some of the sadness down - at least as long as she was drinking. The anger, however, had only increased with every sip, leading to more anger, that forced her to take another sip … Yes, Bourbon had its downsides, and as much as she had tried to ignore it, it had been there, visible and undeniable.
She hadn't been as far as to admit that she'd had a problem, that she was an alcoholic. It was just that she was drinking a bit too much; nothing she had taken seriously. How could something be bad that was also helpful?
That feeling had lasted until one morning a few weeks ago when she had woken up with the realization that it was time to change her life.
There had been no particular reason for this decision and she was still not sure what had happened that Sunday morning. All she knew was that she had emptied every single bottle she had found in her house into the sink and when she had returned to work the next day she'd started to ignore the bar in the corner of her office. It would've been easier if she would've just remove the bottles, but since she never had been one to make things easy for herself, the bottles had stayed. It was torture, Jenny was aware of this, but still … it was best for her.
Back in the days when her enemy number one had been La Grenouille, she had kept a picture of him on her screen, although is had been more than painful for her to be constantly reminded of the bastard who had killed her father.
She had spent hours just staring at the man's face, taking in every inch of him, desperately trying to understand him, to find his weak spot, and even when he hadn't been staring back at her from the screen he was haunting her, until he had been everything she could think of.
Thinking of the man that had killed her father and destroyed her life was painful, but she just hadn't be able to focus on something else. He had become another addiction she had dealt with until she had been able to end it be killing him.
Afterwards she had felt miserable, but also relieved.
It had taken her a few days to calm down, but once her mind had accepted that La Grenouille was gone, she had moved on. Of course, he hadn't been out of her life completely, there still had been questions and she'd heard his name a few times, but he had lost his power over her. She had finally been able to start focussing on something else again.
With the bourbon it was a similar situation. Like pictures of La Grenouille had been on her screen nearly constantly, the bottles had to be in reach; as a reminder of the enemy she was battling against. The urge to drink to forget the stress she had each day, was still there, but she was successfully fighting it.
She was back on coffee. She drank water or juice, but she hadn't poured herself a single drink since that Sunday morning. There wasn't a single day she wouldn't glance at the bottles, tinkering with the idea of having a drink. One last drink. Just for the sake of it. To say goodbye or … just to remember why she had stopped drinking that morning, but she hadn't and after some excruciating weeks, she was finally starting to feel better with every day that went by without alcohol running through her veins.
It was safe to say that she had successfully fought two addictions. That was something she should have been proud of, but Jenny wouldn't be Jenny, if she would be satisfied with what she had achieved, when there were still some goals to reach.
Two down. Two more to go.
Jenny turned around, glancing at her coffee, that at her desk that was, as usual, covered with papers. Normally, she would've spent a few more hours working, but tonight she just turned off the lights and went home, leaving both, the coffee and her work, behind.
- The End -