A/N Thanks to Olivia - my beta for this story, she's awesome! Please R&R :)
Jenny sighed as she took in the all too familiar surroundings of her office. She glanced down at her watch and groaned inwardly - she had only left the Navy Yard a few hours earlier. Oh well, no rest for the wicked I suppose.
She let her eyes scan the room; everything was just as she had left it. Her eyes trailed over the pile of neatly stacked files that awaited her attention later that day. Her gaze then moved longingly to the bottle of bourbon which sat temptingly close. She shook her head and made her way round to her desk, coming to an abrupt halt in front of it. There, sitting square in the middle of her desk, lying unseen from the doorway, was a single sheet of A4 paper. Pristine white, uncrumpled and smooth, marred by the bloody message it carried.
Director Sheppard. You have 48 hours to resign your post as Director of NCIS. If you do not acquiesce with this request then I will have no choice but to kill you.
Time for that bourbon after all. She made her way over to the cabinet pouring herself a large glass; she took a sip before returning to her chair. She lowered herself down behind her desk, taking care not to touch the letter. She leaned back against the chair and closed her eyes.
**
Light slowly filtered into the office and eventually, unable to delay the inevitable any longer, she rose from her chair and walked with purpose out of her office.
She stood watching the squad room fill below her. The sounds of life and the beginning of a new busy working day drifted up to meet her ears. She allowed a faint smile to pass her lips as she observed Ziva disassemble and clean her gun, replacing it into her drawer as Tony and McGee emerged from the elevator.
"Hey Ziva! Notice anything about McGee today?" he questioned her with his childlike enthusiasm, barely pausing to draw breath, never mind let her answer before continuing.
"McGee is wearing the same clothes he was wearing last night." He beamed a smile at her.
From above, Jenny shook her head but couldn't help a smile.
"The Probie got lucky last night, didn't ya Probie." Tony grinned conspiratorially at Ziva.
"No Tony. Like I told you in the elevat--"
He was cut off by Ziva, who by this time had left her seat and circled Tim, stopping him in his tracks.
"You know McGee I hate to admit it but Tony appears to be right. Those are the same clothes you were wearing yesterday." She shot Tony a smirk behind McGee's back.
"So McGee, who's the unlucky...I mean lucky girl then?"
"Don't you have something constructive to do DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked whilst simultaneously slapping the back of Tony's head.
"Just waiting for you Boss," Tony replied shooting Ziva, who was sitting innocently back in her chair, an annoyed glance. She gave him a wide smile in return.
"Something funny David?" Gibbs called over his shoulder without turning round.
Tony pointed at Ziva, his face scrunched up in laughter.
"Uh, no Gibbs," Ziva replied meekly opening her drawer and reaching out for her gun again, sending Tony scampering back to behind his desk.
Gibbs placed his coffee on his desk and directed his gaze up to the Director, sending her a questioning look. Her eyes flitted over to the direction of her office before she turned and left. Gibbs picked up his coffee and made his way up the stairs. As he reached the final few stairs, he glanced down at his team. Tony already had a paper airplane in hand aimed straight at McGee, while Ziva was perched on the edge of his desk obviously interrogating him about his night. He could hear McGee mumble some incoherent response.
"Come on McGee. Tell them who she was," he laughed as he jumped up the final step.
**
"Okay," he said authoritatively, taking control. "I'll have McGee go through the security footage from last night, see if he can get us anything." He glanced up at her. "I'll have that bagged and tagged and sent down to Abby for analysis," he said pointing down at the letter. "And I can get DiNozzo and David to go through all your case files and list anyone who might have a grudge against you."
"Jethro, I'm the Director of a federal agency. That may take a while"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"You got any better ideas, Director?"
"No," she conceded reluctantly.
"Ok then. I'll get them on it now." He made his way out of her office, stopping only when she called out his name.
"Gibbs. What are you going to do?"
The smile spread slowly across his face reaching his eyes as he turned to face her "protection detail."
**
"How can that be possible Agent McGee?" she shouted angrily, her faces inches from McGee's.
He flinched at his name and pulled back in fear.
"Uh...I...I..." he stuttered, his eyes focused unwaveringly on the Director, watching out for any sudden moves that might cause him pain.
"Jen," Gibbs soothed, placing a hand lightly on her arm. "If McGee says there's nothing on 'em then there's nothing on them"
She nodded "I know. I'm sorry Tim," she said sincerely.
McGee nodded, obviously still not recovered enough from her outburst to formulate a proper sentence.
**
"What do you got Abs?"
"I'm sorry Gibbs, Director. The letter is clean. No prints. Not even a single teeny tiny partial print. Nothing. Nada. Zil--"
"We get the idea Abby. What about the blood?" Jenny interrupted.
Abby looked over to Gibbs, standing on her tiptoes and leaning to one side, trying to catch a glimpse of a Caf-Pow.
"Definitely human blood. No match to DNA though. There's not much else I can do with this." She held up the letter in the evidence bag.
Abby noticed how drained and tired the Director looked. It had only been a few hours, but already they'd hit nothing but dead ends.
"Ok, thank-you Abby."
"Aww, you need a hug," Abby stated rather than questioned, stretching her arms out towards the Director.
"Abby, now is not--" she was cut off by Abby wrapping her arms tightly around her, squeezing her gently. She allowed herself to momentarily forget the situation, feeling comforted by one of Abby's signature death grip hugs.
"It's always time for a hug Director," Abby said pulling away from her, smiling sweetly, before snatching the Caf-Pow Gibbs had held in his hand.
**
Jenny sat back in Gibbs's chair and rubbed her forehead. 'How long can you possibly investigate a case for without coming up with anything?' she thought dismayed. She could feel Gibbs's gaze on her as he watched her every move from behind the case files he was studying.
She got up out of the chair and stretched her limbs, grateful for the rush of blood suddenly circulating around her body again. She took a few steps before stopping having realized that Gibbs was directly behind her.
"Something I can help you with Jethro?"
He cocked his head at her, conversing without words.
"I'm going to the little girls room Jethro. I do not need you to escort me there."
She turned on her heel turning her back to him.
"David. Protection detail. Now."
Jenny spun back around to face him, catching Ziva's uncertain expression in the process.
"I am not infant sitting the Director while she goes to the bathroom," Ziva stated matter-of-factly.
"Baby. It's baby-sitting." Tony cried despairingly as though he'd had to listen to more than enough of Ziva's misquoted idioms for the day.
"Whatever. The phrase does not change the fact that I'm not goin--" She caught the stare Gibbs sent flying her way, shutting her up mid-sentence.
"Director," she said, rising from her chair and pointing a hand in the direction of the ladies bathroom.
**
"Boss how much longer are we gonna have to do this for?" Tony grumbled.
"As long as it takes, DiNozzo."
"That's what I was afraid of," Tony mumbled, glancing again at his watch.
"Were you supposed to have some hot date tonight Tony?" Ziva asked, the smile evident in her tone of voice.
"Tony, if you want to go, don't let me keep you here," Jenny called from behind Gibbs's desk.
Tony threw his boss a questioningly glance only to receive a raised eyebrow in response.
"Nope. I'm good. I have no plans. Besides this is more important, Director," he called back, the disappointment clear in his voice.
Ziva snickered at the expression now plastered on her partner's face. He threw a scrunched up ball of paper at her, only for her to pluck in out of the air in front of her and chuck it back with pinpoint accuracy so that it ricocheted off his head and onto the ground.
Jenny leaned back in her chair and risked another glance at the clock. How long can you work on a case with no leads? They had in Abby's words nothing, nada, zilch and only 30 hours left.