TITLE: Timing is everything
AUTHOR: nicis_anatomy
CHARACTER: Probie!Jenny Shepard, featuring Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Ducky Mallard
GENRE: Gen, Drama, Pre-Series
PROMPT: #09 "Timing is everything" for lj's "24_times" & prompt #06 ("How do you fail an autopsy? - By doing that." - "What happens if you fail here?" - "Depends, Officer David. Some of them go on to become our Director.") for lj's madame_director"
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 1000
SUMMARY: Sometimes you need to fail something to cover up even more failure.
WARNINGS: English still isn't my native language (although I wish) and the story is not beta'd..
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. If I would Season 5 would have ended different.

~*~*~*~*

Jenny couldn't remember a timing ever being so good and yet so worse at the same time.
She'd known that sooner or later she would have to observe her first autopsy, and she was somehow relieved that she could do it alone, without the other new agents gathering around her, watching her break down. Jethro Gibbs and Ducky as eyewitnesses was worse enough, but making a fool out of herself in front of her (male) Probie colleagues was something Jenny was sure she wouldn't be able to bear – in addition to the nightmare she was already going through right now.
In front of her Colonel Bryan McCarthy was lying on the stainless steal autopsy table, waiting to be cut open. McCarthy was in his late fifties; his hair was already starting to get grey.
He had been found dead in his car last night by a dog walker. At first the woman had assumed the man had been sleeping in his car, and Jenny could see why.
From her point of view the Colonel even now looked so peaceful, like he was actually sleeping, and the tiny red spot on his temple was only some kind of birthmark… nothing unusual, nothing that would indicate he was dead; nothing that would turn Jenny's day into a nightmare.

But the red spot wasn't a birthmark and the Colonel wasn't just sleeping his beauty sleep.
He was dead. Shot in his head, and Jenny knew what the damage on the right side of his head where Ducky and Jethro were standing, looked like. She'd seen an exit wound like that before, not long ago and only for a few seconds. But the brief moment had been enough to traumatize her for the rest of her life.

"As you can see, Jethro, there is a severe trauma to his head. He was shot do death at close range. No indication that he was defending himself. I would say this poor fellow here was either unconscious or…"
"…or he knew his killer."
"Correct, Jethro. I remember a case like this back in…"

The men's voices were nothing more than soft mumbling, nothing Jenny's brain could process right now.
Her eyes were fixed on the McCarthy's body, but all she could see was her own father. Jasper Shepard, found dead in his study by his own daughter who had been upstairs while her father died.
One shot in his head - self-inflicted.

Suddenly, Jenny wasn't in the autopsy room anymore. Leaving the NCIS headquarter, she had travelled to her townhouse in Georgetown. She was sleeping in her room when she had heard the shot, and she had known instantly that something bad had happened; that this one shot would change her life forever.
Her father was dead, and despite everything the coroner had told her, it hadn't been a suicide. Someone had killed her father, and she had promised to herself to do whatever it may take to find out whoever had done this to him, to her, to the whole family.

Joining NCIS had been the first step on her five-point plan. Making a career to have a direct access to all resources necessary to catch her father's murderer was the second step she was now working on.
She'd known that attending an one autopsy (or more) was part of the 'making a career' process, and she had been sure she would be able to handle the unpleasant but necessary task like everything she had managed to do so far: With a smile.
But Jenny's smile had vanished the second Ducky had shown her and Jethro the body, and now she was fighting back tears instead.
The urge to run away, to flee the room was getting stronger with every second. But she knew she had to stay. She had to proof that she could handle her job without admitting that the chauvinists she was working with, were right and that women weren't capable of becoming field agents. For this alone she had to stay strong, let alone for the explanation Jethro would demand, the second she would start bursting into tears.

Taking a deep breath, Jenny blinked, trying to fight back her tears.

'You can do this, Jen! This man isn't your father. He is just a stranger, a random victim that happened to become part of your investigation. Nothing special, nothing you wouldn't be able to handle!'

For some strange reasons the voice echoing in her head sounded like Gibbs, although she'd never told him about her father and she had no intention to ever tell him. This was her battle alone; a war she had to fight all by herself; something he didn't need to know.
"Jenny, are you all right?" Jethro's voice and Ducky's concerned look brought Jenny back into the room. She looked up, meeting their eyes.
"I'm fine," she lied, faking a weak smile, while inside her she was still fighting the urge to flee the room.
"You look a bit pale, my dear. Are you sure you're doing fine?"
Jenny nodded. But then she hesitated before taking the change Ducky had just – unknowingly -offered her.
"Actually, I … I feel a bit sick," she admitted. "I should …"
"You should sit down, Jennifer," Ducky interrupted her. "Jethro, why don't you accompany her back upstairs? I will finish the autopsy alone. You'll get my report." Although Ducky was talking to Jethro, he was still looking at Jenny, smiling knowingly, and despite that she actually started to feel worse, Jenny returned his smile, thankfully.

Being accompanied out of the room by her boss was bad, but something she would be able to handle better than explaining why she had started crying over a stranger's body. She had the feeling she'd just failed Jethro's expectations and that her failure might follow her for the rest of her career, but somehow she also knew that admitting to feel sick would earn her more respect from him than showing him her emotional side.

- The End -