She stared silently at the modest house, her new home, for what seemed like an eternity as two U.S. Marshals inspected the premises and brought her stuff inside. She was not able to lift anything more than a few pounds yet, per doctor's orders, and that limited her usefulness at the moment.

"Hey, you comin?" asked the female one. She motioned to her from the doorway. "You don't need help walking, do you?"

Jenny tried not to let the woman's harsh demeanor get to her. "Hurt my shoulder, not my legs," she called out as she headed slowly toward the house. The thin, tall male had a kinder personality. She already respected him a great deal. When he headed towards the door and outside, she found herself a bit disappointed. "Are you leaving already, Marshall?"

He could see her trepidation and wasn't completely surprised. "Give Mary a chance. She's really not that bad," he said with a hint of a smile.

"Really?" Jenny was feeling a bit dubious of that fact.

He chuckled. "She's my partner. I've known her a long time, and there's no one I trust more to have my back."

She smiled as she nodded her head. "Good to know." She watched him get in his car and leave before she took a deep breath and entered the house.

Mary was in the kitchen inspecting the various cabinets and the fridge. "Not sure what you like to eat, but we got you a few staples. Should last you a little while if you're not a vegan or whatever," she said, obviously finding the notion distasteful.

"I'm not."

"Good," she nodded. "Hate that hippie dippy shit. Give me a grilled steak any day."

Jenny's mind drifted to someone else she knew who would share that sentiment. She wondered what Jethro was doing now - what everyone she cared about back home was doing…

Mary saw the other woman's mood darken. "You all right?"

The former director put her mask back on. "Just peachy. What's next?"

Mary narrowed her eyes but let it go. She pointed to the couch. "We have a few things to discuss." She took a seat in the chair across from her charge. "We have papers for you to sign since they weren't able to have you do this prior to the extraction. I can leave them with you to read and then…"

Jenny held up her hand to stop her. "Are they the standard releases and agreements?" Mary nodded. "Can't vouch for how good my signature will be, but give me a pen and I'll sign."

She handed her the writing instrument and watched her struggle. "This really could have waited."

Jenny plowed through the various pages, signing where she had to before she placed the pen down and turned her attention back to the U.S. Marshal. "No. I want to get settled. All of this," she said, pointing to the paperwork, "is just more loose ends from my old life. If I have any hope of moving forward, I need to…"

Mary could see how tough this was on Jenny. "Hey, slow down. There is no easy fix here. This is hard. Really hard."

The redhead leaned her head back and released a deep breath. "You have no idea." She quickly realized the folly of her words and laughed. "Then again, I guess you do. Well, not with your life but still."

"Are you kidding? I wish I could dump my life." She saw the other woman's surprise. "If you knew Jinx – she's my… mom," she said, rolling her eyes, "and sister, you'd understand. But no, I do love my job. It's challenging, but I know I make a difference and that's… that's something."

Jenny nodded. "I used to know what that was like."

"I'll say. You served our country well, and you're continuing to do so right now. This – what you're doing here – is very important. Don't ever forget that."

She sighed. "I know you're right, Mary. OK, now what?"

"I was told what you wanted your name to be, so here's your new driver's license and social security card."

Jenny held them up to the light so she could see them better. "Not bad. OK, what else?" she asked, pocketing both items.

"You tell me… Catherine."

She sighed. "Do you really need to call me that in private too?"

Mary became very serious. "That is who you are now. This isn't an acting exercise. We're trying to save your life and keep you safe. You are Catherine Jones. That other name – forget it. You hear some kid yelling it out to their friend – you don't turn around. Some guy whispers it – you don't flinch. Am I understood?"

Jenny's features hardened. "Yes, ma'am."

Mary softened. "I'm not trying to upset you or make you mad."

She sighed. "I know." Jenny stood up and looked in a nearby mirror. "What about this hair? I feel it makes me too recognizable. What do you think about dying it blonde?"

"Don't believe everything you hear about us having more fun."

Jenny laughed. "You? That doesn't shock me. But still… it might make me less recognizable."

"So there is a sense of humor in there?" she said as she smirked. "I can recommend a place if you want."

"I do want. Thanks."

"We've found you a job. You'll be working as a manager at the library."

Jenny sat back down. "Okay. Guess I don't have to go shopping for suits then?"

Mary shook her head. "How are you holding up?"

Jenny narrowed her eyes. "You aren't serious, are you?" She could see that the Marshal was indeed just that. "How is anyone who has to walk away from a life they worked for and people they care about? It sucks!" she said, becoming more irate with every word. "My whole career… my life… was about rising through the ranks of NCIS. I don't even know who I am without it!"

Mary related a bit too much to what Jenny was saying. Her life was all about being a U.S. Marshal. If that were taken away, she would be just as lost. "I'll help you through this process any way I can. You aren't alone."

Jenny snorted. "Thanks, but you're wrong. Alone… is exactly what I am," she said quietly, just above a whisper.

Her charge looked lost – and it worried the Marshal. "It will get better. It takes time."

"Anyone else buy that bag of clichés you're peddling?"

Mary sighed, realizing she had her hands full with this one. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Do I have anything?"

"Your file said you drink bourbon, so we got you scotch. You can have bourbon at my house."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "It'll do. I used to drink scotch. But that was before…"

There was that lost look again. "Before what?"

The redhead stood up and walked towards the other side of the room, ignoring her question. "Am I allowed to look out the window or is that too dangerous?" she asked in a mocking tone.

"You can do pretty much anything as long as it doesn't connect you to your other life, think of it as being on a long undercover op."

Jenny sighed. "You say that like it could end."

Mary winced, realizing her point. "Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize." She saw the surprise on her new friend's face. "Sign of weakness."

"Hmm," she mused. "Always hated apologizing. Cool, rock on then. OK, so where were we?"

"You can go. You don't have to babysit me any longer. Just tell me where the scotch is so I can drink myself into oblivion. And if the bottle's heavy, maybe lay out several glasses and fill them up for me?"

"Oh you're a laugh riot."

Jenny deadpanned, "I'm not kidding."

Mary sighed and said quietly, "I know." She got up and headed towards the scotch, pouring them both a glass. "Neat okay?" The other woman nodded. She then brought both glasses over, handing one over but kept one for herself.

"Thanks for this, I told you that you could leave." She took a giant gulp, knowing better but wanting to do it anyway. The sooner it was down, the sooner the pain would lessen, or so she hoped. It burned as it traveled down her throat that was no longer accustomed to the taste of her father's favorite drink.

Mary sat back down in the chair and eyed the tumbler carefully before taking a sip. She then placed it on the table in front of her and leaned forward on her elbows which were resting on her knees. "I'm going to get you through this. The main thing to keep in mind is that the U.S. Marshal Service has an excellent record. We never lose anyone who plays by the rules."

Jenny snorted as her mind drifted to the man who only liked to play by his rules. She had to stop it. Thinking of Jethro every time someone said something or she saw a coffee cup or hell – happened to draw breath – wasn't helping her move on. And the grief of all those what-could-have-beens was threatening to eat her alive. "I know you're right. I will do all that is asked of me, I always have. But tell me, Mary, how the hell do I live?"

The woman sitting across from her looked broken. If Mary were the type to let other people's pain affect her, she'd probably go sit with her and try to comfort her. But that wasn't this Marshal's style. "Put one foot in front of the other. Just keep moving forward."

Jenny downed the rest of her glass, slammed it on the table and stood up. "God, you make it sound so easy but you have no idea what I've given up!" She began pacing back and forth. "I've lost my home, where I've lived since childhood. The people who brought me joy… the job, which gave me a purpose. It's like I might as well have died for all I have to do now with Jennifer Shepard," she said, hissing the last part in a low voice. "And no one around me is going to be able to relate. Who on earth could relate to someone like me?"

Mary swallowed hard. "You mean someone who has lost their whole world?" The other woman nodded. "I bet my friend Ryan could. He recently lost his wife."

Jenny's eyes widened as she sunk down onto the couch. She cringed, realizing how self-indulgent she must have sounded. "Wow. I don't know what to say."

"I didn't tell you that to make you feel bad. I'm kind of serious. He's just started going to a group therapy thing, grief group? Hell, I don't know what it's called but maybe you should go too. Maybe they could help you develop tools to get you through this?"

Jenny snorted. "Therapy? You're suggesting I go to therapy - for this?" she asked, gesturing to her surroundings. "I'd feel like such a fraud."

"You are mourning a loss, Catherine."

Jenny winced, hearing herself being referred to by that name again. She saw the other woman frowning at her.

"You better get used to being called that – or we're sunk."

The redhead nodded sadly. "I think I want to be alone."

Mary picked up both of their glasses. After depositing her own in the sink, she refilled Jenny's and handed it to her. "Remember, I'm just a phone call away. And don't make plans for lunch tomorrow. I'll introduce you to Ryan. He's a good guy. And he could use a friend too."

"I don't know, Mary…"

"I do. I'll pick you up at noon. After that, we'll swing by the library so you can meet everyone. You start the day after that."

Jenny bit her lower lip, considering all that the U.S. Marshal had to say. "OK, you win."

Mary smirked. "I always do." Jenny rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Hey, we need to set your alarm. What 4-digit code do you want?"

She gave it some thought and quickly realized what she needed it to be. "0520."

"All set. Do me a favor, after I leave, hold this button down? That's for when you're in the house and you want it armed."

"I'm familiar with this system. And Mary? Thank you."

"Just doin' my job. See ya tomorrow," she said as she walked towards her car.

Jenny locked the door and set the alarm. She picked up the glass of scotch and then walked around the house, trying to familiarize herself with her new surroundings. The kitchen was doable. She moved the curtain to look at her new backyard. It seemed all right. She found her suitcases upstairs in the bedroom, not that they had much in them - just enough to tide her over until she went shopping later in the week. She finished the scotch and laid down on the bed, curling up into fetal position. Her thoughts went back to 0520… the date she ceased being Jenny Shepard – and the day she learned that one Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the only man who'd been able to steal her heart, still had feelings for her. Well, at least as recently as his trip to Mexico. God, why hadn't he told her that when he returned? Maybe everything would have been different. His face haunted her as much as her mistakes did. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to erase his image from her mind, but in the end he was all she could think about. And the tears flowed freely.