This was an attempt at clearing a nasty bout of writers block using prompts given to me by my friend Claire, its also my first attempt at a Jibbs fic - I hope you enjoy
Torrents of rain battered the wind shield of Jenny's town car as she pulled to a stop at the lights of the intersection. It was pitch black out, a little after midnight and even though the weather reduced visibility by epic proportions the lack of approaching headlights told her that there was no reason for her to be stopped other than the law dictated by the small red bulb above her. She shouldn't have been driving in this weather but after talking to Ducky she could not face going home; she had suspected it, but had hoped Ducky's diagnosis would prove her wrong. It hadn't. She had Huntington's disease and it was advanced, in the next few months she would stop being her, her body and mind would turn on her and she would die a shrivelled shell of her former self trapped and alone. That scared her the most, dieing alone, even though she had chosen to be alone in life she could not face the prospect of being alone in death and so here she was in the early hours of the morning, travelling through a horrific storm to see the one man in her life that had shattered the desolate pain in her heart and made her believe, just for a short while, that someone was there for her who wasn't going to leave, until her own stubbornness had pushed him away.
She swung into Gibbs' drive slightly to fast, slamming her breaks on and stopping 18 inches from the porch. She reached to the passenger seat and grabbed her purse before glancing towards the house. She froze, her blood running cold and white noise ringing in her ears. The door was wide open rain gushing in, a standing lamp, bulb still lit was on its side rolling on the floor in the door way, she reached into her purse and grabbed the side arm that, even now as director of NCIS; no longer working in the field, she always carried. She closed the gap between the car and the door in three large steps and pressed herself flat against the wall beside the door. She entered the den weapon drawn, looking around she saw nothing else out of place, taking a deep breath she called out.
"Jethro!"
"Down here Jen!"
She breathed a sigh of relief hearing the voice trickle up from the basement, but her senses were still on high alert to danger and as she scooped up the standing lamp and closed the door she kept a firm grip on her side arm in case Gibbs was in danger, he hadn't used the duress word but a response to his name being called didn't give the chance for him to. She descended the first few steps cautiously, her back firm to the wall, she finally relaxed completely at the sight of Gibbs fully focussed on sanding the struts of his boat. She slipped the gun back into her purse and began to chide the man in front of her.
"Good God Jethro, will you get a lock on your front door! The wind has blown the door open and the lamp's rolling around on the floor I was expecting to come down here and find you with a gun to your head!"
Gibbs looked up a placating smile on his face;
"You just come down here to have a go at me Jen?"
"No!" She descended the final few steps and crossed the confined space, she picked up a jar from the work bench, emptied a few screws from the bottom of it and then filled it with a generous measure of Bourbon. "I came here because I don't like to drink alone"
Gibbs chuckled slightly watching the petite woman swallow the liquid in three large gulps before refilling the jar.
"Tough day?" he watched her swallow the next glass.
"You could say that" more Bourbon.
"Want to talk about it?"
"Nope, I'm nowhere near drunk enough yet." She didn't drink this time, instead she looked him straight in the eye, daring him to stop her, he didn't he knew she needed to let go of something and if she needed to be drunk to do it, he would let her.
"Ok, I'll wait!" He slowly took a sip of his drink.
Jenny steadily worked her way through two thirds of the bottle of scotch and her conversation became more and more maudlin. Sitting perched on the edge of the work bench she sighed looking at Gibbs who had returned to sanding his boat as he listened to her chatter.
"Have you ever been in love Jethro?" Gibbs gave a melancholy chuckle and worded his response carefully.
"I've been divorced three times Jen!"
She contemplated his words and tilting her head to one side, a little inquisitive, asked,
"Why did you get divorced?"
"Well what can I say, it never really spelled love to me!" He turned to look at her, smiling at her slightly dishevelled state,
"So... how do you spell love?" he stepped close to her looking deep into her eyes,
"You don't spell love, Jen, you feel it" He pressed a soft featherlike kiss to her lips and a single tear finally slipped from her eye.
"I'm... I'm dieing Jethro" She choked on her words. "Please don't let me die alone!"
Shock and pain filled his eyes as he absorbed her words and a thousand questions filled his mind but now wasn't the time he pulled her deep into his arms.
"No Jen, never, you'll never be alone"
A/N: The name of Jenny's illness is never disclosed in the show but there are a few illnesses that the symptoms fit including Huntington's Disease.