a/n: not as smutty as it sounds. Actually kind of angsty. Takes place after Lost and Found.

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN NCIS


For the tenth time that day Gibbs slammed his hand down on the mute button of the intercom. Once again, causing Cynthia's insistent voice to cut off in a crackle of static.

And he was absolutely, positively, sure that it was for the tenth time.

He had been keeping count religiously.

After all, he needed to know how much he needed to make Jenny suffer for putting him this position. Leaving him as interim Director while she was still in the DC area, what was she thinking?

All week Director Shepard had been tied up in meetings at the Capitol Building. And not just, 'every five hours a lecture with a two hour lunch break' type meetings; according to her. More like, 'I'm going to be busy from morning to night with this so stop arguing with me Jethro,' type meetings.

But seriously, Gibbs didn't understand how hard it was to place a phone call in between budget meetings?

Either way, Jenny had given him a warning the Friday before last. Calling him to her office she had ordered him very strongly that he was going to play the role of interim Director for a week. He had protested; very strongly in fact, but Jenny had left her order as it was. And Gibbs had had every intention of completely ignoring the position , that is until last Monday had rolled around.

Monday had come, and Jenny hadn't even set foot in the office once that morning. But as soon as he had gotten there, Cynthia had located him like he had a GPS implant just for her. Though the fact that it hadn't taken much to chase him up the catwalk and into Jenny's office, proved that they had learned from their boss's trip to Paris.

Heck, his temporary assistant had even somehow managed to inform Tony that he would be taking over the team for the week without Jethro's knowledge. And though the woman still annoyed the hell out of him with her constant badgering, he had to admit that after a week...

He had come to respect her.

Still, didn't mean he wouldn't give her hell. Especially considering that it was after hours, on the last day he had to play Director, and Jenny would be back soon. Meaning, he was officially off the clock.

"Gibbs!-"

Huh, it was Gibbs this time was it? Well, he wasn't hearing any gunshots coming from the outer office. So, for the eleventh time he slammed his fist down on the mute button. This time taking the few extra seconds to actually find the power button on the thing.

He was just glad Jenny's doors locked from the inside.

Satisfied that he had peace for the moment, he leaned back in Jenny's luxurious leather chair. At the thought of how annoyed it would make her, he propped his heavy boots up on her desktop; crossing them languidly.

"Uh," he groaned, stretching his aching muscles. Vaguely he entertained the thought of taking a short nap on her comfy leather sofa. While Jenny was being shuffled around in budget meetings, he'd been doing everything under the sun in her place. And now, with Cynthia wearing a hole in the floor outside, and since he'd blockaded himself inside of her office...

He had time for a nap, and from personal experience her couch was very comfortable.

Just when Gibbs had managed to tamp down on reservations he might've had; the shrill sound of Jenny's office extension sliced through the air. The sound itself was obnoxious, but he swore if this was Cynthia calling him from outside...

"What?" He snapped into the receiver. Probably not the best way to answer the Director of NCIS's phone, but then again-he was just a lowly agent. He had the right to break a few pleasantries.

"Well hello to you too," her butterscotch voice floated through the line, underneath the huskiness he could the tension. But, nevertheless, the sound of her voice had the same effect on him that it always did.

"Jen," he practically sighed, then muttered darkly, "Thought you were Cynthia."

She laughed tiredly at that, Jenny was like that sometimes. If she wasn't thinking about them in terms of work, then she actually did find his childish antics amusing at times.

"Oh, Jethro. What have you done to my poor assistant?" And though her voice was tired and weary, there was a satisfied note in it too. Or maybe it was just resignation?

Gibbs preferred to focus on the humor he heard there too.

Lazily he swamped the phone to his other hand, and reached out to fiddle with Jenny's computer. Happy that shaking the mouse had successfully woken the thing up, he idly clicked through a few programs.

Believe it or not, even an interim Director had to use the computer from time to time. Grant it the things that required major computer use, Cynthia had taken over. But Gibbs knew enough to at least find the solitaire game. While he dragged an ace of heart onto a two of clubs, he scowled slightly when he responded to the woman on the phone.

"Ha. More like what she's done to me-"

"You mean like making you do your job?"

"Jen! She's got me treed up in your office!"

He got another laugh from her at that, a more genuine one even. And he practically heard the teasing remark before she even spoke her words-

"Aw. Is big ol' Leroy Jethro Gibbs scared of my assistant?"

"That woman would scare away armies," and that was utterly true. If anything the past few years had shown him, it was that out of everyone at NCIS; Cynthia Summers was the most fiercely devoted to her boss. With maybe a few exceptions..."And you know, technically she's my assistant."

"Hmm. At the moment," she said lightly, "And while she may face any number of politicians coming my way. Apparently not even she can stop you from getting to me."

Jenny was probably exhausted, he had to remind himself. The remark had been in complete fun and good humor. And if the seconds of silence they experienced was anything to go by; then she was just realizing what she had said.

Before things could become too serious, he interjected, for once being the one to speak willingly-

"Well yeah, Jen. The only thing that could keep me away is orders from the woman herself." He said it matter-of-fact, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and in a way...it was. But his words did the trick.

"As if you've ever taken orders from me."

He scoffed a bit sheepishly at that. He liked to think. that when it truly did matter, that he took his marching orders from her. But who the hell were they kidding? Gibbs barreled through so many rules and boundaries that he didn't even truly realize the extent of his damages until he was done. Leaving Jenny to faithfully come up behind him with a broom and dustpan...

Though, he did think he paid that back when it came to her recent debacle.

Even though it was a sham on both their parts, he said in his defense, "I take them when it counts!"

"Sureee. We'll go with that." This time the silence, on both their parts, was comfortable. More searching for something to say then...tense; Gibbs decided that he liked this type of silence with Jenny-and Jenny alone. It wasn't awkward, it just there.

He stacked his last deck in solitaire and watched as the images of fireworks appeared on the screen with the word: WINNER, in big bold letters. Clicking the little red X in the corner of the screen, he went back to staring at Jenny's desktop picture; which was just the official NCIS emblem.

"Anyway," she finally breathed, "Why exactly have you barricade yourself in my office away from my assistant?"

Gibbs huffed, fiddling with the scrolley-thingy on the mouse. "This Senator, or whatever she is, keeps bugging Cynthia! And she keeps bugging me about it! I swear, I was good Jen! But I'm off the clock, done-"

"Jethro," she interrupted him quickly, "The only reason I believe you when you said you were good is because you said she. This Senator is female, right?"

"Well...yeah," he said, a wrinkle appearing between his brows in confusion. What was she getting at?

"At any point this past week, did she see your face?"

"Had to talk to her in MTAC over the big screen. We resolved every issue she had. I was even polite! See I told you it's a waste of time to try to be nice and get something out of someone!"

Jenny chuckled this time, a little to bitterly. "Yep. Jethro you were nice to her. Senator Matthews; it's her isn't it? She's into you."

This time the wrinkle in his brow smoothed as clarity hit him. He should've realized with how flighty the woman had acted around him. But truthfully he hadn't cared how the woman had acted after he'd gotten what he'd wanted from her.

"Oh," and he really should have shut up then but he wasn't thinking when he said, "But she's not a redhead!"

"It's okay Jethro, I wouldn't dare force you into dating a blonde again!" And when his only response was a growl, she giggled. "But seriously Jethro, I'll talk to Senator Matthews; get her to back off."

At that Jethro had to grin, Jenny's voice had a hiss to it when she said the Senator's name. He would pay money to see that confrontation if it ever came about! Shaking off whatever smug comment he might've made and had her get mad at him, he pointed the little clicker thing on the internet icon.

Not even for minute did he consider what it might mean about Hollis that they could joke like this.

"Appreciate it." He skimmed the mouse over the search engine box, thinking about what he could look for. "Hey...Where are you?"

In all of there bantering, he'd forgotten to even ask where she was.

"In the back of a car with a stranger. He said we're going back to his place," she snarked.

"Not funny." He growled, thinking back to when she really had been forced in to the back of a car with a stranger.

"Fair point. I'm in my towncar coming to free the princess of her from her tower of doom."

"Hahaha. Why aren't you going back to your house?" He would've thought, that after a week of stress, she would want the comforts of her own home in favor of her office.

When was the last time she'd slept?

She sighed, "I actually do have some paperwork I need pick up-," when he tried to protest, she cut him off, "And before you lecture me, I'm going home to sleep after that; not work on paperwork. I'm even coming in late tomorrow so I can get some sleep, and no you don't have to fill in for me tomorrow. Your done!"

"Halleljuah," he muttered, his eyes roaming the screen.

"I'll be there in about thirty minutes. Are you going home tonight at all?"

"Plan to, when Cynthia gives up."

"I will call her off when I get there. What are you going to do until then?" She asked him. figuring he would answer with words about her bourbon or burning down the agency. But if she could see him, she would get instantly suspicious at the glint that lite up his eyes.

"Read through your browsing history," he said smartly, clicking on the portion of the screen, and getting comfortable for his snooping.

Jenny scoffed, probably figuring that her computer would be completely ruined come morning because of his attempted snooping. But she allowed it anyway. Because she didn't think he could actually do it.

"Enjoy the porn sites I frequently visit," she sarcastically.

The dial tone rang in his ear, hanging up her phone he greedily started scanning through the list of sites in front of him. Though he really in truly couldn't do much on a computer (nor did he want to), he could lazily read what Jenny had been looking at.

As far as he could tell, most of her sites from the past months were official business. Agency websites, her email login, a few wikipedia visits. It wasn't as if he had expected anything classified to be in her online history of all places. But the only thing that seemed to deviate at all from that pattern was her visits to shopping sites!

Secretly, he was kind of disappointed.

The clock was ticking and he had around fifteen minutes before Jenny got back. He was just about to give up and just plan on bluffing is way through some teasing comments with her later; when his eyes landed on one of her most visited sites.

This time he straightened up, his feet fell off the desk with a low 'thud', and the wrinkle was back. His eyes glanced at the tiny-almost impossible to read-white numbers of the clock on her computer...

Then back at the link to the site, as if his glare could will it into giving him answers...

He needed to talk to Jenny.


Thirty minutes after their phone call, Jenny arrived in her office to be met with the sight of a frazzled assistant. The poor woman was literally pacing in front of her closed office doors; a phone in one hand.

"Director!" Cynthia practically shouted in glee when she saw her.

"Cynthia," she greeted politely. "May I ask what he's done this time?" She said, indicating her barricaded office.

Cynthia sighed in frustration, "No. Not this time, not really. It's just-Director Matthews won't leave me alone about calling him, and I think he's turned off the intercom-"

Turn off? Jenny figured it was more like, 'rip the cord out of the socket,' knowing Jethro.

"It's okay, I will handle Director Matthews tomorrow. For now, why don't you just go home? It's late and you deserve a break," Jenny placated the frenzied assistant.

Cynthia stared at her for a moment; then, with shoulders slumped in relief, she tossed her cellphone back on her desk. Not even stopping to say goodbye to her boss, or even get her coat-Cynthia scurried out.

Oh, the poor woman. She could handle armies, but Jenny wouldn't be surprised if one day she managed to push her to her breaking point.

With that sobering thought, she strolled forward to her office doors. She thought it prudent to at least try the handle first, yet it was no surprise to her when she found them firmly locked. One small, delicate hand rapped lightly on the heavy doors.

"Jethro," she called, "It's your knight in shining heels." Silent as the grave, like always, she didn't hear his footsteps. But seconds later one of her doors fully.

There in the doorway stood Jethro. Already dressed to go in his usual black coat, Jenny had to suppress the guilty little feeling of disappointment she felt at that. In the back of her mind, she'd had half the idea on the ride over that they would at least have a glass of bourbon together in her office. Where she could question what he had done while she was gone, and the reciprocal.

And she also knew...that she had no right, that it was better, if she didn't feel that way.

Before she could move Jethro walked out of her office, shutting the door tightly behind him. His body moved forward to invade her personal space, and she took a step back in confusion. She was about to step around him, say goodnight, and go back into her office. But before she could, Gibbs shoved a hand that was clutching a sheaf of papers and files toward her.

"Here," he said quietly, his eyes hooded.

Responding to his serious tone, she felt the jitters in the pit of stomach. Her muscles were tense (and for once not in the way she's been trying desperately to ignore), but from the way he was looking at her. He only looked at her like that when Jethro actually wanted to talk about something. And when Jethro wanted to talk about something you could guarantee he was going to be one heavy, unavoidable conversation.

"How do you know these were what I wanted?"

"They were the only things still on your desk after the last week." He arched an eyebrow, daring her to come up with a good enough rebuttal to get into her office.

After a moment Jenny conceded, snatching his papers away from him she crossed over to Cynthia's desk and set her briefcase on top. Unlatching it swiftly, she tossed the paperwork into the pile that was already there and snapped it swiftly shut. Turning her heel, she looked back at him, waiting for what he had to say.

"Guess I'm ready to go then," she hinted.

"Yep." Pushing off from her doors, he strolled forward a few steps. She watched as he visibly tried to lighten his mood. And she started to prepare her already weary mind for what was soon to come. She too tried to lighten her tone when she spoke again-

"So since I didn't receive any phone calls threatening the apocalypse while I was gone...i'm assuming either you some how managed to shut Cynthia up at the times you made your mistakes...Or you actually did behave?"

It was true, she really hadn't receive any calls about Jethro in the past week. And in truth, it had been a bit unnerving. After forcing the role on him because of sheer lack of any alternatives, she had gone away expecting him to do everything in his power to sabotage it.

Yet, not one single phone call. Dealing with budget and policy meetings all day, all week, had been hard enough. And maybe the fact that she hadn't had any other phone calls complicating her week had softened her towards Jethro a bit.

"I behaved!" He said indignantly, he had kissed ass and everything this week. Despite his resentment, Jenny hadn't deserved him intention ruining her reputation.

"Oh, I know. But considering I didn't see any flying pigs on the ride over..."

"Very funny. I was the perfect Director this week. I think I could even take over your job." He smirked teasingly at that, taking a step closer to her. Going with the whole 'let's pretend something serious isn't about to be unwillingly discussed' motif, Jenny smiled.

"One day." As much as they both liked to pretend, Jethro did have common sense and a good head on his shoulders. For a week he could enjoy overseeing operations and being the deciding factor in operations. And if that was all a full-time a Director would have to do, then Jenny knew she could have had serious competition for her job. Someone other than Leon Vance. "But let's face...you wouldn't be able to handle all the ones that got a little too handsy."

His face darkened, and this time it was humorous to Jenny.

"A little too handsy?! Who touches you," he growled murderously, his hands clenching at his sides. His earlier preoccupation momentarily forgotten as a haze of red settled over him. "I swear Jen. You give me names and I'll murder 'em all!"

A warm feeling, one that ranked on the guilt scale right up there with the earlier feeling of disappointment, settled over her. It was like, that day in her office, where she had thanked him for always watching her back.

"Awww," she cooed leaning back against Cynthia's desk, "See you couldn't survive my job. After all, Cyntha's good fighting the armies at your door. But you wouldn't have someone to murder the pervs."

Gibbs grumbled at that. Even though he was sure he could handle some handsy politician's wives. He was fairly sure that he wouldn't get near the same amount of attention that Jen got.

Sometimes that woman forgot just how good looking she really was.

"Anyway," she said, serious again; looking him dead in the eye, "Thank you. I really do appreciate it."

He grunted at her thanks, uncomfortable with that fact that she had actually caught him doing something good. "Well, don't expect me not pay you back for that," he promised half-heartedly, his mind back on his ultimate goal when his eyes caught the time on the clock.

"Of course." She answered, she too had noticed the time. "I better get going. My detail's waiting for me," picking up her briefcase, and thinking she could actually get out of this thing, she started towards the catwalk-

His large, warm palm caught the crook of her elbow. Jenny looked at him over her shoulder, her own eyes shadowed now. They stared at each other for a moment...

"Let me drive you home," he added his patented crooked smile.

He was turning on the charm.

Her heart raced unsteadily.

"My detail's waiting for me downstairs." She tried, and she knew it was futile.

"Send them home," he shot back.

It was futile. If he was turning on the charm with her...

"Okay," she said weakly.


They were in his truck in a matter of minutes. On the way down to the garage he had dismissed her detail, and she didn't know if she necessarily liked how authoritatively he had done it. And now, after shutting her door behind her, he was sliding into the the drivers seat himself.

She had been in his truck an innumerable amount of times, and maybe that was why she felt comfortable enough to kick her heels off onto the floor. Considering how tense she was, and how late in the day she was, she didn't want to risk a tick while she was in close quarters with Jethro for who knew how long.

Since she was wearing trousers, she pulled her legs up into the seat with her. She was sure she looked very unladylike, her bare-feet dangling on the edge of the seat. Her blazer shucked off, and yet she didn't really care. It wasn't as if Jethro would judge her for it.

While Jethro settled in too, Jenny took in the familiar interior of the truck around her. Jethro took good care of his truck, considering he'd had it for ages. The upholstery on the seats was still in great condition, but one could tell the years of use if one knew where to look. Like the toolbox that was in the floorboard of his backseat, and the dirt on his floorboards that showed signs of his weekends of hard work. After a week full of even harder work.

It was all entirely, so, Jethro.

Even the smell.

In the cab of his truck, it didn't smell like bourbon. Or, heck, even coffee. But freshly cut wood, gunpowder, and maybe just a little hint of leather. And after turning on the ignition and switching on the heat, the smell of Old Spice was easy to make out.

Turning to her, Gibbs smiled softly, taking in her appearance. Jenny was sure she knew what he was seeing as he eyed her, and it most likely wasn't the here-and-now her. She was sure they both were being bombarded with memories of the past.

Jenny was sure, that if she looked hard enough, she could still find tangible evidence to their past in the cab of his truck. Driving home with Jethro, in this truck, was like taking a willing look back into the past. She was sure, if she looked hard enough, she would be able to find some tangible evidence of their past together. And if she thought her very tentative grasp on sanity could handle, she might have.

Instead she folded her hands on her knees, making sure to hide her hands that were desperately clutching at the material of her trousers. Gibbs pulled out of his parking space carefully, putting more concentration and effort into driving than she had ever seen before from him. Soon though, the world was righted and he was speeding through the small lanes of the NCIS parking garage.

They cleared the exit checkpoints easily enough, luckily the security guard on duty was smart enough not to comment on her presence in the truck. And before she knew it, they were out of the Navy Yard completely.

He was still driving faster than any person had the right to. Grant it, it wasn't at his normal maniacally pace, and this was what had her on edge. If Gibbs was intentionally trying to prolong the ride, it meant that soon...interrogation would start. And if Jenny was going to be interrogated against her will, then she was at least going to make sure she started it on her own terms.

"What's this about Jethro?"

Jethro was quiet for a moment. Then he did something she'd completely forgotten about, he swung his arm around the top of the passenger seat. Jenny had forgotten that he drove like that. In days long gone, she might have clutched at his wrist and pulled his arm around her shoulders, snuggling into his side. Tonight she simply huddled closer to her knees.

He had said no, she reminded herself. She had genuinely offered, and he had said no.

"Can't a guy just give an old partner a ride?"

"Not when she's got people specifically for that reason." This time he granted her with a look, she tried to stare him down while she mentally ran through a list of topics. Things he would want to talk to her about...Things he knew about...There wasn't much overlap there, briefly she entertained the idea that he might want to rescind on his "No". But she shut that down before she could even start on it..."So let's cut the crap Jethro."

He tensed, and was it just her imagination or did he slow down a little? Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she could tell that he was trying to maintain his legendary poker face. Jenny liked to think that that was hard for him to do around her, because she sure as hell couldn't keep much from him. It was only fair.

"I looked through your search history," he said casually, he was trying hard to retain his earlier facade of calm and charm. But when the words left his mouth, Jenny wanted to laugh. The tight feeling in her chest eased, and she wondered why in the world she had been so stressed about him questioning her?

"Did you enjoy all of those sites?" She whispered leaning in closer to him, like they were two conspirators. Eyeing him she made sure to add a lewd inflection to her words-

"You know, those sites."

She was fairly sure, under any other circumstances when Gibbs didn't clearly want to talk to her about something else, he would've been choking on his own tongue at her words. The fact that he wasn't currently turning blue, just proved that whatever he had to say...she wasn't going to like.

"Jen," he growled, taking a curve much too slow. She sighed, and leaned back in her seat.

Staring straight ahead at the darkening sky, she said, "Yeah?"

"You went to DCFS's site."

Her teeth came down sharply on her own tongue now, and vaguely she was sure she could taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. Her shoulders tensed, her head turned to look out her passenger seat window; resolutely avoiding his probing gaze.

She had to swallow down on her biting remark, and was quite proud of herself when her voice came out normal.

"It was for a case."

"What case? As far as I know we haven't had any involving children lately. So unless your running more schemes behind our backs-" So apparently he'd abandoned the idea of charm then. You know he really wasn't driving that fast at all...

"Carson." And there it was, the eye twitch she'd been anticipating.

"What?" He scoffed, "C'mon, you're a better liar than that. Were you thinking about giving him back or somethin'?" She closed her eyes, cursing herself for not being on smart enough to anticipate where this was inevitably going to lead. "Besides," his voice was lower this time, a gentler tone, "You went to the site a lot. Before we had Carson's case...and after."

She opened her eyes, her chest felt heavy. He really wasn't going altogether that fast, and they weren't that far from her house now-she could jump. Leave her shoes and her briefcase behind, and make it out with only minimal scarring.

As if he could read her mind, he asked quietly, "Jen?"

She felt so very, very small under the warm weight of his arm and the cold weight of the things weighing heavily on her mind. Jenny was barely able to utter the soft words-

"I don't want to talk about this Jethro."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Jethro at least gave her the decency of pondering her request. But she knew, before he even asked, that his natural curiosity would eventually win out. At least he looked vaguely ashamed when he pressed further.

"Are you adopting?"

"Yes," she said without thinking, "Well-no." She stuttered back over her answer, calling herself every name in the book. "Not adopting. I was, I was just thinking, I mean. Fostering. I was looking at fostering.

Wow, that option of jumping was really looking good right about now.

"Oh."

'Oh,' that bastard forces an interrogation out of her, and all he has to say is, "Oh?!"

Her head whipped around to face him, any signs of weakness long gone from her face. "Now that we've got that out of the way?" She bit out, her voice dripping in acid. "Can you please cut the rest of this short and just drop me off at my house?!"

Though she posed it as one, it wasn't a question. It was a downright command.

Yet, she'd underestimated the fact that Leroy Jethro Gibbs had never been fond of following order-especially not hers.

"Jesus Jen, I was just asking." He barked in automatic response to her snippy tone.

"No, you were interrogating me!"

Starting an argument with him got her two things. One, he sped the up slightly, the truck starting it's familiar wheezing protest. Two, it got her a momentarily grant of silence from him.

One that she had hoped would last for a little while longer than it did. They were approaching her street actually, when he finally spoke once more in reserved tones. Slowing the truck only slightly, she could actually see her house in the distance-

"Ok. You said 'was'."

"What?" She asked. Jenny could quite literally walk to her house now, and really in truly-if she didn't think he wouldn't just hop out and drag her back until her got the answers he wanted-she would. She was just-

Her chest ached, her muscles hurt, and she really, really didn't want to discuss this anymore.

"You said it like, you aren't anymore. Or something." Gibbs clarified, Jenny categorized his minute twitches that gave away his response. His knuckles were white on the trucks old steering wheel, and his eyes were...wary? As if he didn't want to discuss this anymore than she did.

She heard gravel crunching under the tires of his truck as he pulled into her drive-they were nearing the end of this conversation. With heavy limbs, she slipped her feet back into her high heels, and turned twisted to grab her briefcase.

This was how it went with most conversations she had with Jethro-at least the honest ones. For a little while, there was a lot of bullshitting. Then some violent arguing, and eventually...

Towards the end, they always approached this sort of...limbo. One where they were tired of going in circles around a subject, but their nature of secrecy that came as easy to them as breathing-prevented both from being blunt about it. So they spoke half-truths, emphasizing a word or a reaction here and there, letting each other wordlessly know as much as they could convey on the matter.

They were approaching the end of the conversation, and with it came the last cycle.

"Jethro," she turned to him, her voice was weak and wobbly-something she'd been trying to stave off this whole car ride. He...he looked like he didn't know if he was about to be lead to his death by her hand, or granted a pardon at the last second. Her smile was weak when she continued, looking him dead on, "I didn't pass the process, end of story. Worked too much, unhealthy environment for a child to be in apparently." Insert faux careless shrug. "So it was foster a kid or my job, and you know me...always the job."

The smile she gave him was as fake as the day was long, and he knew it too.

Once they were done with the necessities, Jenny turned and practically threw open her door in her haste to escape. Her eyes were burning, and her chest was heaving. But, of course, he couldn't let her go that easily.

"Jen, wait!" He cried when she was halfway out of the vehicle, his large hand caught around her upper arm-securing her in place. She whipped around to face him, a very shaky look of impatience trying to mimic itself in her expression.

Jethro hesitated for a moment, looking as if he were on the verge of saying something more. Thinking better of it, he swooped in-before she could even blink-and pressed warm lips briefly against her cheek.

"Goodnight Jenny," he murmured softly. Pulling back and letting her free.

She all but ran up the cobblestone steps to her door, fumbling with her key; she heard the wheezing sound of Jethro's truck start off down the street at the same time she got it open. She slammed the door behind her, and promptly collapsed against the heavy wood. She pulled her legs back up to her chest, her head knocking back against the wood as she tried desperately to blink back the tears streaking down her face.

Her hands gave small, little involuntary twitches.

That last cycle...it always hurt the most.


He drove through the darkened streets of DC slightly faster than he usually did (much faster than he had to get there) speeding away from the townhouse. His old truck huffed in protest but followed his commands for more speed anyway.

At the moment though, Gibbs really didn't care. He didn't care if he somehow made it back to his house in the thirty seconds, or the next thirty minutes. There was only one thing-person-on his mind at the moment...

Jenny.

And it wasn't about her wanting to foster a child. He could see her doing that, honestly. Even though most of the time she came off as a cold-hearted bitch, he knew she had a warm heart (perhaps the warmest heart of anyone he'd ever met). And he could picture (quite vividly) her taking in a child that needed her.

But...she'd spoken in the past tense about it.

Sure, she had given him some BS reason. 'She'd been denied'. Yeah, right. Even if it was about the work hours, Gibbs was sure it didn't come down to her job or helping a kid. Nothing was as clean cut as that. And besides...there was always loopholes around complications such as those.

She had lied to him. Blatantly lied to him. And even after all of the hell her lying had put him and his team through, he could forgive her-always and completely for it.

He wasn't mad...

His jaw clenched; he swore he could feel teeth cracking. His shoulders felt tight, and he felt the beginning of a headache forming.

Jenny had lied once again. So what? He was the one who had taught the woman how to lie with the best of them ages ago. He'd seen her lie her way out of mortal peril before. She could even fool him when she tried. Except-

This time she hadn't tried.

While she sat there, staring him dead in the eye and lying straight to his face; she hadn't even tried to fool him.

Her right eye had twitched, and she hadn't even tried to cover it up.

His truck groaned as his lead foot pushed down on the gas. The streets of nighttime DC flew past, his trusty vehicle delivering him to a night of drinking bourbon. His stomach was hallow, and he felt cold, and sick.

He wasn't mad...

He was terrified.


a/n: this hasn't been edited yet, but I wanted to publish it as soon as I could. So I'll do what I usually do and come back and reedit the thing later.

what i was thinking for this story is that you know Jenny had her life together after La Grenouille. Thought about something more (a.k.a kids) but then found out she was sick and dying but she couldn't tell jethro that...so you fill in the blanks there..