The sun was shining, the heat almost unbearable in the desert and the heat waves visible above the sands of the desert scenery. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun with strands of long red hair extending from the centre, the hair tied with a black elastic hair band that had previously resided on her slender wrist and a slight pink mark was left on her pale skin from the tightness of the band. She wore a white blouse as a way to deflect the heat as an attempt to stay cool under the summer sun and a black pencil skirt because although she wanted to stay cool, she wanted to keep up the appearance of being the Director of N.C.I.S after all she was on an assignment.
A slight breeze ran through, a much needed and much appreciated breeze that tousled the already out of place red locks that had slid from their place in the bun to be beside her cheek. A single curl that lay beside her right eye, the beautiful contrast of her sparkling emerald green eyes and her fire red hair. Her nails were neatly manicured and the small amount of make up she wore had been precisely and perfectly applied before leaving the house that morning.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily and biting her lip nervously. She was glad that nobody could see the slight break in the appearance she kept that she was strong and that nothing would faze her. Many thought that nothing scared the red headed woman but that wasn't true.
She was sick, she was ill and she knew that she had only 2-3 years to live. She had heard the news almost a week ago and since then had unconsciously put herself into every dangerous situation possible.
She had attempted to apprehended a suspect alone even when she had been unarmed and he had held a gun at her temple twice during the struggle, luckily for her she had a knight in shining armour that day in the form of Jethro who had dropped by her home to find the scene unfolding. The mess of the study, the trail of destruction throughout the hall way with a broken vase, turned out purse and water on the floor with flowers he had bought her the day before scattered. Red roses for his red rose. He loved her more than he could put into words but then again Jethro was never exactly great with expressing his feelings, he had loved her since they had worked together as probies and he always would. He would never admit it to anyone but he had been gripped with utter fear when he saw the mess of her home and when his eyes settled on the gun crazed mad man who held a gun to the red headed woman's head, his fear increased ten fold. After shooting the man that held the woman he loved, he took the sobbing woman into his arms and held her close to him. Her head resting on his chest, her ear listening to the soft and calming beat of his heart and her arms around his waist as his went around her shoulders. His head leant down and rested softly upon her head, his eyes closed and he relaxed at the feeling of her safe in his arms. Where he wished she would stay. He didn't understand why she had turned him down, he had seen the look of love and want in her eyes when he gave her the roses, when he asked her out on a date and when he told her he loved her. She however had uncharacteristically brushed it off. What he didn't know however was that she had sat at her desk sobbing into her hands night after night, purposely staying at the office late to be close to him but struggling to cope with her diagnosis she had pushed him away. She had pushed him away like she had in Paris after her miscarriage. He didn't understand then either, he tried to be there for her but she wouldn't let him. She was stubborn and always seemed to want to show the world that she was strong and could cope with things herself. He however just wanted to be there for her and support her no matter what.
Mike Franks stood a few metres from her, staring out at the large expanse of desert that lay before them and surrounded the teal coloured diner. He was oblivious to her internal struggle, having no knowledge of her illness but he did however know something had happened between her and Jethro because Jethro had acted so off when he last saw him. He had been more depressed than he had seen him in a long time and would look longingly at the beautiful red headed director.
Her heels made very little sound against the hardened sand, she managed to walk perfectly even when most women would have had to remove their heels to walk on sand. Their heels would sink a couple of centimetres or more even in the mostly hardened and flattened sand that was beneath the black heels on her bare feet. She had been wearing stockings however had to remove them when the heat had hit her upon exiting the plane.
Entering the abandoned diner she moved to sit on a dusty table, she would have normally dusted it off a little with her hand before sitting down on it but she didn't care. Her mind was too preoccupied, her mind swimming with thoughts of the man she loved and wishing she had more time. She had taken it upon herself to make the decision that he would be better off not knowing and not seeing her condition deteriorate. She hadn't taken into consideration the fact it would give her more time with him and the effect it would have on him to have been shut out on such an important thing.
She had chosen to agree to the meeting that day, she had decided to go with only Franks that day. That was a big mistake. Another time she put herself in danger however she had in turn put someone else in danger, something she had not realised until they got there but Mike had refused to allow her to go alone.
Mike was talking about something, thinking that the red head was listening and not looking to check that she was. Instead she sat with a photo in her hand. A photo of her and Jethro together in Paris, they had been posing for the camera when they went out for a meal. A waiter had kindly taken the photo for them. The lights were dimmed and the candle light flickered in front of them, reflecting in their eyes. The photo she had in her hand was a photo the waiter had taken after the posed for photo. Jethro and Jenny were looking into each others eyes with pure love. A love she still felt for him. A love he still felt for her.
She thought back to those moments, she thought back to the times she could lay safely in the arms of the man she loved. The man she loves. She thought back to the times she walked through Paris with her hand securely in his. She thought about the times she heard him tell her he loved her. She thought about the last time. The time she had said nothing. The time she didn't return the phrase. The phrase she wanted to say so much that not saying it broke her heart. She knew it broke his too without looking at him. He had said it exactly 5 times over the past week, and not once had she returned it. She would whisper it when he left the room, a soft I love you too Jethro, words that nobody could hear but her. The words he desperately wanted to hear from the woman he loved. Loves. She thought back to the last time she saw him, the way he touched her cheek, the way he told her he loved her. He told her twice in that moment. She had forced herself not to react, although subconsciously leant into his soft palm a little. He sighed, a broken hearted sigh and shook his head before leaving. He put it down to something being wrong with him, to her not loving him any longer and her not feeling the way he did. He was wrong. She thought he was protecting her. She was wrong.
She thought about what could have been, she thought about the idea of having children. She thought about what a great father Jethro would be to their children. She thought about returning to Paris with him for old times sake, to reminisce about old times together. Times of dancing in the rain, kissing under the Eiffel tower and walking through the streets together hand in hand. She thought about becoming Mrs Jethro Gibbs, the idea made her smile sadly at the fact it wouldn't be and smiled at the idea of being his forever. She wished she could tell him. Tell him that she wanted nothing more than to be with him forever but she knew that forever wasn't an option for her. She didn't have forever.
That was the day a shower of bullets had rained down on the two of them that were inside the diner. They had walked into a trap. A deadly trap.
Amongst the blood and dust that remained around the diner lay the body of Mike Franks. A few metres from him a beautiful red headed director gasped, her hand pressed to her stomach, her shirt stained with the red blood that seeped from her wound. The photo in her spare hand, her emerald eyes looking at the photo, she knew that this was the end. She knew that her candle was being blown out but she knew that the last face she would see would be that of the man she loved. "I love you Jethro" she whispered towards the piece of paper as her heart beat began to slow and the only sound was the soft gasps of breath she took.
A sudden bang signalled the presence of somebody else in the abandoned diner, the doors had slammed against the wall as foot steps rushed in. Making their way directly to the gasping, injured director and knelt down beside her. The dust instantly going onto his dark slacks and dark leather shoes. Not that he cared.
Her knight in shining armour with tears glazing his bright blue eyes cradled her in his arms, lifting her up softly into his strong embrace and holding her upper body.
I love you Jethro, she whispered to him as her tear filled emerald eyes looked into his blue ones. "I love you too Jenny, stay with me, ok? Stay with me", he urged her desperately.
His hands were covered in her blood as he pressed her wound trying to make it stop silently begging it to stop.
He knew that the last words she spoke would echo in his mind forever, as he watched her take her final breath. The photo slipped from her hand and he cradled her to his chest, rocking her gently and begging her to wake up knowing it was pointless. She was gone.
Ziva and Tony watched from the door way, salty tears streamed from their eyes as they watched on with pain filled hearts. Tony wrapped his arms around the Israeli woman knowing how close she had been to the director and watching the barrier of strength crumble in the dark brown eyes of his partner.
The sounds of Jethro's heartbroken sobs, and soft words to the woman in his arms was the only sound that could be heard other than the occasional sniffle that came from the two in the doorway. He hadn't noticed they had arrived, being too focused on the woman whose body now lay in his lap but the woman he loved was no longer there.
He wanted to be with her forever. He wanted to slide a ring onto her finger and call her his wife. He wanted to see her carrying their children. He wanted to lay with her under the stars. He wanted to spend his life with her. She too wanted the same things he did. She never admitted that to him, she knew she didn't have forever. For them forever was over and it was much shorter than either had wanted it to be.