A/N - This is just the first part of a story, maybe series - we'll see, that I was asked to write by dare-denymecider.

: : : : : : : : : : :

Jethro Gibbs allowed his eyes to wander from the endless piles of reports that sat upon his desk – begging to be written. He had not missed this in Mexico. He cast his gaze around the Squad Room and upon each of the members of his team. Something had changed. Something in the team make-up had changed dramatically since he had left for Mexico, although it made him feel slightly alienated, he couldn't help but feel it was a good thing for them.

Ziva seemed more comfortable in her place in the team and he was thankful for that, there had always been something that made him feel uneasy around her and vice versa, in his absence she had become an equal in the team and that, he was sure, was comforting to even her. It seemed stupid to underestimate the woman's instincts – she still had those – she knew she was being watched by him, but she ignored it as his eyes shifted.

He knew he'd always held Tony back, during his entire career on the Gibbs team. Without him there, Tony had become an all new character. The team went to him for guidance now, and the responsibility was shown in not just his work, but everything he did. If there was one thing Gibbs could say for certain, it would be that he was proud of Tony.

Probie – McGee had changed too. Now officially a Special Agent, he wore his badge with pride and Gibbs wore as much pride for him as he did for himself.

A still shape caught in the corner of his eye. It would appear that he was not the only one watching over his team. He looked up to meet the eyes of what he already recognised as the Director; she averted her gaze quickly, but was not saved the embarrassment of being caught watching them, watching him. Gibbs noticed how she bowed her head, her gesture reiterating all of the changes that had taken place during his break.

Everything had changed in his absence, but since his official return he could see the differences more clearly; his team had grown up, but the changes in Jenny were different, and he wasn't sure he liked them. Thinking her name, he looked back up to the balcony to find that she was gone and the MTAC door was swinging closed. He closed his own eyes simultaneously.

The entire dynamic of their relationship had changed. Before they could have called one another friends, now it seemed as if there were miles of ground between them and the more he tried to ignore it, the further they seemed to pull apart. Jethro could not help but blame himself, his track record with women was a disaster, but never before had he thought it would affect their friendship. He had only been back a few weeks, but more than anything else he missed their arguments, whether strictly professional or not, they were an indicator of normality between them. A voice in his head screamed that he should take the chance and talk to her, but he was scared that confronting her would drive yet another wedge between them; that he would loose her friendship forever.

&Stones&

A sinking feeling fell through Jen's stomach as she heard the two voices outside her office; they were so civil – no longer would Cynthia's shouting indicate Gibbs' abrupt entrance to her office. She longed for him to burst into her office like he used to, she never thought she's admit it, but she had always enjoyed his sheer arrogance. No longer would it happen; she heard him ask her receptionist politely, almost with the enthusiasm of a wrong-doing schoolboy who had been sent to the Headmistress' office. The idea made her cringe. When had she become the evil Headmistress? She hated the civility between them, hated that the fact they had once been close friends, but now retreated behind the facades of Director and her dutiful employee the Agent.

The knock on the door, shouldn't have, but it still caught her off guard. "Director," he greeted as he entered.

Jenny fought the urge to call him by his first name and revert to the smiley, flirty tone she had always saved for him. The Director, however, saved her, "What can I do for you today, agent Gibbs?" She gestured for him to sit, but it appeared he would no longer take a seat in her presence either. He did, however, move closer to her desk, but as Jenny noted, far enough away that he did not tower over her and left the door, that had in times past muffled their raised voice, open wide behind him.

A rush of anguish filled Jenny's body as she realised the meaning of his actions; he no longer wanted to be alone in the same room as her. She blinked away the thought, discarding it the best she could, but it remained at the back of her mind. She was afraid to display any sort of emotion in front of him anymore.

"I thought…"

The open-ended comment led her to think, just for a moment, that he might be the braver of the two of them and about to address the open-ended issues between them. The hesitation in his words did in fact indicate the thought that crossed his mind, raising her hopes and crashing them back down to Earth in the same sentence.

"I thought that you might want an update on the Dansen case."

Jenny blinked again, harder this time; bringing her focus back to the case at hand with great force. "Oh…oh, yes. That would be useful. I'm sure SecNav will be pleased to hear of any developments on the case." A gasp of surprise caught in her throat. But she suppressed it, as Gibbs handed a report to her.

It was a fact of life as far as she was concerned: Gibbs never did paperwork, unless tortured into doing so; the sight in front of her contradicted everything she had ever believed in. He felt it was his job to investigate the crimes, not to document them and be tied to his desk by paperwork, well, he used to.

"Well…" she hesitated for a moment, stuck in the awkwardness of the entire situation between them, "thank you, for this."

She could have kicked herself as the words crossed her lips, before she had even thought them: "Is there anything else I can do for you, Agent Gibbs?"

He paused a moment before backing off so slightly from her desk. "No, nothing else. Ma'am." He left faster than she would have expected as Jenny threw her head down into her hands in despair. How could she be so stupid? So blunt? She hit her knee into the underside of her desk as she repeated the mantra to herself.

&Mosaics&

Jenny had not yet worked out why she was here . She was standing in the cold, the rain only kept off of her by the small porch in which she was stood. She was guilty, she certainly felt it. She had not spoken to Gibbs since she had so rudely pushed him from her office two nights before, and now she needed to apologise. Why now? Why here? She asked herself; why couldn't she just say sorry to him at work?

She turned on the step, her back to the door as she mulled the thought over in her mind. Still, something drew her back to here and now, she could catch him off his guard in his own home, but the already guilty conscience in her told her that it would be rude and unfair to sneak up on his like this.

&Stones&

Sanding down the wooden beams on the structure of his boat, Gibbs was completely unaware of the guilty conscience that was lingering, restless, on his doorstep. Recently he'd taken to drinking just a little more than he used to, not too much for him that he would pass out, but just enough that he could let sleep take him more quickly than usual. Well, that was the way he chose to see it. It numbed the sense of insufficiency that plagued him whenever he saw his team who no longer had any need for him; as much as he hated to admit it, it was as much about his broken relationship with Jenny as anything else.

As he went to pour himself another glass of Bourbon, he stopped rooted to the spot, still facing the back wall of his basement as he strained to listen again. There was the presence of somebody in the room; the faintest sound of shallow breathing caught in his ears. As the intense, distinctive sweetness of her perfume lingered, as unsure as she, he recognised just who had joined him.

Standing atop the staircase, Jenny held her breath momentarily, her heart beating fiercely in her chest, as she continued to question her present actions. The thought to turn and take her leave slipped out of her mind, something in Gibbs' body language told her that he was already aware of her. He was standing below her on the basement floor, and in the somewhat dim light, she noted the glass of Bourbon perching in his right hand. She followed his movements with her eyes; as he stretched his neck to the side, she judged just how aware he was of her presence, and that it was making him feel uncomfortable. There was no going back now.

"Jethro," she muttered, almost inaudibly, as though asking permission to enter his special place.

He did not turn as he granted it to her. He was desperate to keep his professional appearance. He slid the glass down between two pots of what might be determined paint stripper, not wanting to allow her to see him drinking or to know that the jazzed rocks between them were the reason for it. She would see through it all regardless, and he was acutely aware of her watching and scrutinising his movements from her higher position. Despite all his efforts, he knew the façade would fail, but for him it was easier than attempting to decipher the enigmatic and tangled thoughts, feelings and words that had passed between them.

"Director Shepard, what could possibly bring you to my basement at this hour?"

Taking no notice of the air of resentment in his words, Jenny descended the stairs; each one she took knotting more confidence into her as she chose to discard the wish that she hadn't come – now was not the time for it – it was too late to go back now.

TBC...

: : : : : : : : : : :

Please R&R. Makes me more confident about writing, the best stuff has yet to come.