"I always could read your mind."- Jenny
"Not always, Jen."- Gibbs
- Frame Up, Season 3
Director Jenny Shepard looked out over her kingdom. Special Agent Gibbs and his team had just finished a case and were finishing off their paperwork. Agents Balboa and Pedro were brainstorming on a cold case they were working on. Agents Arganda and Luskin were nowhere to be found. Making a mental note to put another $20 into the pool Agent DiNozzo was running, she slid her eyes back to Agent Gibbs' team.
After the Incident in LA several months ago, when the Director had blown them off and nearly got herself killed, Jenny had realised that she didn't want to lose them as her… friends. She wanted to trust them because they cared about her, as a person, rather than because it was their job to protect her, and she wanted them to know they could trust her to watch their backs. She vowed never to use them for her own agenda again. As a consequence, Jenny had begun to come out more at work, surprising most of her agents with her strange behaviour and what they perceived to be sudden mood swings. This, combined with her unexplained several month absence, had spawned more scuttlebutt than the building had seen in a long time. Normally, both the Director and Jenny would have been incredibly angry to discover that Tony had started a pool regarding whether or not she had been pregnant, but she knew he was scamming his co-workers, not honestly buying the rumours. Gibbs' team, however, had recognised Jenny as a different personality to the Director and knew exactly what she was doing. In their eyes though, she was still one person, and that person had betrayed them several times now.
They had been her partners, her co-conspirators, her informants, even her friends. But she had used them, more than once, for her own ends. It was hardly surprising that they had banded together and were closing her out of the family they had built up around one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
And speaking of Gibbs… Watching now, Jenny could see that he was favouring his left arm over his right, and was reluctant to stretch the right arm too far. Had he been injured? She thought that the team would have told her if he had been, but maybe they were even angrier than she'd realised?
His brilliant blue eyes moved up and met hers. Of course, he would have known she was watching him. There was a slight smirk on his face that disappeared when his eyes met hers. He's worried about me, knows I want to talk. She translated his actions in her mind. She looked meaningfully at him for a few more seconds before she turned and walked toward the elevator.
As soon as he stepped in she flicked the emergency stop.
"Lose the jacket." Authoritative, direct, but with the softness that indicated this was Jenny speaking in the Director's tone.
"In an elevator? Secret fetish, Jen?" He sounded both utterly bewildered and incredibly smug.
Jen was the agent, her fun, slightly wild side who had never turned down a challenge, and who actually had had sex in an elevator before, but that was definitely not at work.
Jenny glared at him. Jethro glared back.
She moved closer, grabbed his shoulders and spun him around before jabbing her thumbs into his shoulder blades, forcing his arms back, ignoring his protests as she ripped off his jacket. She folded it neatly over her arm and peeled back his right sleeve so she could see his bicep. There was an impressive rainbow coloured bruised just above his elbow shaped like an upside-down V. Jethro looked at it, slightly surprised. Jenny was grim. That's a bruise from a wing-tip, he got kicked in the arm, so he got into a fight. But no-one told me about it, and as much as they don't particularly like me, they care about Jethro and they always tell me when he gets injured. Off the clock, then. She threw his jacket back to him.
"You have problems." She stated, her worry manifesting itself as disgust.
"I'm not the one taking my agents' clothes off in an elevator."
She glared at him again. "Where did that come from?"
"I fell."
"On someone's shoe." Sarcastic now.
"Yeah." He obviously didn't believe that, but was confused as to where he had got it.
He looks like he honestly didn't know it was there, so he was probably drunk when he got it. Considering he drinks alone in his basement, he was probably in a bar for some reason. Since when have you ever gone to bars, Jethro, let alone got into a barfight? And what the hell were you doing getting so drunk you can't remember getting that bruise?
"Are you ok?"
"Yeah."
"Because you got drunk enough that you don't remember being in a barfight…"
"Why do you care, Jenny?" His voice was harsh.
That was like a slap in the face. Fine, she hadn't specifically told him how she felt about him, but he couldn't honestly think she didn't care. He reached across and flicked the emergency stop switch. The doors opened and Gibbs stalked out while she was figuring out what to say.
Damn her for being so perceptive! He had forgotten that about her, The Director focused on the big picture, whereas Jenny and Jen noticed the little details. That was what made her such a brilliant agent. She saw everything, then retreated to her other personality (which had been called That Meddling Bitch before she had been promoted) and saw how everything fitted together. It would have made her a great Director, too, except she had let That Meddling Bitch take over permanently. He had barely seen a glimpse of Jenny since she had been promoted, although occasionally he saw a sparkle of something in her eyes when he bought her dinner or mentioned their past that told him he was looking at his former lover, rather than his boss or his partner. Jen, the sarcastic, intelligent partner, had been around a lot in the beginning, but had largely disappeared when he had retired to Mexico, and wasn't it just a little too hopeful to think it was because he had left. Sure, she had said no 'off the job', but that wasn't how she acted, and he was sure that was just part of the mask. That Meddling Bitch hadn't made that comment, it was Jenny trying desperately to sound like the Director of an armed Federal Agency. He hoped.
And if that wasn't as confusing as all get-out, the woman herself was even more of a nightmare. He probably shouldn't spend so much time thinking about her, but as well as he knew her, he barely understood her at all and was constantly trying to explain her actions and reactions. He knew nothing could happen between them. There was a reason he'd instated Rule 12. It had hurt when she'd left, so much more than his ex-wives, largely because things hadn't been working out with them. He'd understood why they'd gone. But Jenny… Everything had been perfect. She'd agreed to come back to the states with him when he'd asked, was just going to run a section in Europe for a few weeks until they found someone else. A test run. And a few days later he had gotten that damn letter. I'm not coming back. Sorry I'm ditching you in what is probably the cruellest way I could have thought of if I ever thought about anything but my damn career. He'd checked the date- it had been sent the same day he left.He almost groaned, but caught it. He hated to think what DiNozzo would make of it.
He was sure that his agents had noticed that he'd gone to meet Jenny in the elevator, because if they hadn't, they were fired. And he was equally sure that money was going to change hands later when he wasn't around, especially when DiNozzo would have bet that they were doing something decidedly unprofessional and Ziva and McGee would have had more faith in their bosses. And since he had stalked back into the bull-pen five minutes later looking incredibly angry, and the Director had been shaking with fury when she crossed the catwalk moments later, DiNozzo would admit defeat and hand over the money.
That had been a low blow, and the look on her face had told him what he already knew. He had hurt her, had been trying to hurt her, because he wanted her to walk away. He knew she cared about him, was probably even still attracted to him, given that she'd asked him to stay the night. But he loved her. And that made her compassion so much harder to deal with. If she hated him, if she didn't care, then maybe he could heal and then they would be able to be just co-workers, maybe, one day, friends. He mentally shook himself. She was his friend now, one of the very few people who he allowed to get close. But underlying that…
In an effort to distract himself, he looked around at the team. There was Ziva, who had been Jen's partner and friend in Europe, whom she trusted with her life. There was Tony, who had been privy to her secret op, who she had trusted with one of her deepest secrets, one that even Gibbs hadn't known. There was Tim, who was still awkward around her, but seemed to honestly like her- stop.
There had been a rough patch recently. The team no longer thought that she trusted them, and if she didn't trust them, maybe she didn't like them, and if she didn't like them, would she protect them as she had before? They were on rocky ground, but Gibbs knew that they still loved her as 'mommy'. Or in Ziva's case, 'sister'. He recognised Jenny coming back as her attempt to make them see that she wasn't the same person as she was when she had used them. He also knew they didn't know her well enough for it to work. He had considered stepping in, but had decided against it. Only time was going to fix this.
He was thinking about Jenny again. Dammit! Why did all his thoughts revolve around her? Even after ten years, she was still under his skin, in his head. He needed a coffee break. He considered bringing Jen back a peace offering. Dammit!
He knew why this was. Selfish, uptight Director Shepard was so much easier to ignore than funny, passionate Jenny. He had only survived the last three years by convincing himself that the Jenny he knew and loved was gone. Now she was back. And that was almost as hard to deal with as the woman becoming a regular fixture in his working life. He wasn't sure that he would be able to take much more of this.
He decided to go for a coffee break.
Five minutes later, Jenny strode into the Bullpen. "McGee,"
"Yes, Director," He stammered.
"I need a word," She growled it, so that Ziva and DiNozzo would think he was in trouble. McGee gulped and hurried after her as she led him to the back elevator, walked in and flicked the switch. She turned to him and then leaned against the wall, completely casual.
"Relax, Tim, you're not in trouble." He looked surprised and still a little wary. "Gibbs was in a bar, sometime in the last week. Can you find out which one?"
She hadn't told him how she knew he was in a bar, but not which one. He swallowed. "Right, that might take a while…"
"I know about the tracking devices, McGee." He looked worried. She smiled. "It was a good idea, Tim. And I'm not even going to ask how you managed it."
McGee calmed considerably when he realised she wasn't angry he and Abby had LoJacked all of Team Gibbs "Then it'll take about five minutes."
"Email me the address."
"Is something wrong with Gibbs?"
She considered that, quickly. She didn't know, yet. So she shouldn't worry him. But then… It sounded like she was using him. Again. She decided to go with parts of the truth, and spoke before McGee even noticed her hesitation.
"No, he's still on his coffee break." There was a distinct threat. "It's probably nothing, McGee. But if I find anything, I'll tell you."
"You don't want me to tell Tony and Ziva." It wasn't a question.
"No. It'll worry them."
"They'll ask."
"Tell them that I'm very angry and making strange and unreasonable demands. They'll assume you're being punished for something. Sorry about that. If they keep pushing, and I mean really pushing, not Tony ragging on you, then tell them to come see me."
McGee paused for a moment. He'd never really been comfortable around the Director the way the others were. "Does this have anything to do with…" He trailed off. "Forget I asked."
Jenny looked at the ground, then forced herself to look into his eyes. "Tim. Yes, it is personal, no, it has nothing to do with any covert ops. The most dangerous thing that will happen is if Gibbs finds out I've been snooping."
"And there's nothing wrong with him?"
She was going to lie to him, to put him at ease. Sorry, Tim. "There's nothing wrong McGee. I'm just curious as to why the boatbuilding functional mute was in a bar. With people."
He nodded. She didn't think he fully believed it, but he wasn't going to tell his partners the second he got out of the elevator either. She flicked the emergency switch.
"And Tim? Thank you."
He smiled. "Welcome."
Five minutes after the scene in the elevator, Jenny received an email stating the name and location of the bar Jethro had been to. It wasn't a dive, but it wasn't exactly high class either, and it was far enough out of the way that there wouldn't have been many people there. She had watched Gibbs' team on the flatscreen in her office, and McGee appeared to hold his own against the others until Gibbs walked in moments later and put an end to it.
She did paperwork for another hour before she decided she needed a break. Ideally she would go tonight, but there was a chance Gibbs would go back, and she really didn't want to face him right now. Grabbing her coat, her bag, her keys, and informing her protection detail she was going for a ride, she headed down through the squad room, glaring at Gibbs as she stalked past. He met her gaze, then dropped it, and went back to his work. He knows he's in the wrong. Guess that's the closest thing I'll get to an apology.
Jenny walked up to the bar. She knew her detail was worried that she was going to a bar in the middle of the day, especially given all the alcohol she had consumed when she was obsessed with La Grenouille, but they were good at not asking questions. She pulled her hair out of its tight bun, letting it sprawl around her shoulders, and opened her top two buttons. Then she walked straight in and up to the bar, gaining the attention of the barkeeper.
"What do you want, gorgeous?"
She smiled her most dazzling smile. Sometimes it was good being the Director of an unknown agency. "Sorry honey, here on business. My husband was in here a couple nights ago." She began, pulling out Jethros' official NCIS photo.
"Married, huh? Can't catch a break." She smiled an almost regretful smile. Just enough to keep him interested. "What about him?"
"Was he in a fight?" She asked, straight up, dropping the photo on the bar.
The barkeeper frowned. "What makes you think that?" He picked up the photo and looked at it.
"He has this bruise on his arm. He said he got it at work, he's a federal agent, but I spoke to his boss today and he said they haven't gotten into a fight recently. I was wondering…"
"Fed? Yeah, now I recognise him. Two idiots got into a fight over something, he broke it up." While he was drunk? Alone? Impressive, Jethro. "The guy he was with was holding one in a choke hold and the idiot lashed out at him." He flicked the photo. "Threatened to arrest him for assaulting a federal agent."
Jenny smiled, looking relieved but feeling confused. "Who was he with?"
"Never caught the name. Tossed back a dozen coronas and wasn't smashed."
"Older guy. Beard. Accent. Probably smoking?"
"Can't smoke in here. He did wander in and out a lot, could have been taking smokos. Rest is right." Explains why he was in a bar, and why he was in a fight, and why he was so drunk.
"Thank you so much for your help," She squeezed his hand as he passed the photo back.
"Not a problem. Wanna stay for a drink?" He sounded hopeful.
She smiled again, still flirting. "Sorry honey, married, remember?" She put twenty dollars in the tip jar on her way out, doing up her buttons and fixing her hair. She really wished she could have seen her details faces when she introduced Jethro as her husband.
Gibbs was in his basement, working on his boat when he heard the front door open and high heels make their way across the floor. He heard her stop in the kitchen and heard the fridge door open. Then they resumed their pace towards the basement.
Jen appeared at the top of the steps and stepped gracefully down them. She was wearing jeans and a sweater and she carried a bottle of his beer. His mouth went dry looking at her. He turned back to his boat.
"Your detail outside?"
"At my house." Snuck out.
He looked at her. Why.
"The betting pools are high enough." I didn't want anyone to know.
He continued to glare at her. You have a detail for a reason.
She shrugged and looked at him. There was slight steel in her gaze. I can take care of myself. "Besides. If anything happens, my guardian angel will protect me." She raised her voice. "Won't you, Mike?"
He moved into the basement and leant on the railing, another beer in his hand. "And you wonder why everyone thinks there's somethin' goin' on between you two." They glared at him. "Hello, Direc-tor," His voice was cold, condescending.
"Hello, former Special Agent Franks." They glared at each other. Then their lips twitched.
"Jenny." His voice was warmer this time. He moved down the stairs.
"Mike." She waited until he was at the bottom and moving towards her before she propped her leg up on the workbench and hiked up her jeans a little further than she had too, granting both men a good look at her shapely leg. She pulled the .44 out of her ankle holster and handed it to Franks, a slight smirk on her lips. "It's clean."
He took it. "I was gonna come get it back, but I only flew in this morning."
"Twice in one week? What's Gunny got himself into this time?" She replied innocently.
He tilted his head. He didn't seem ashamed to be caught out in the lie, if anything he sounded impressed. "Not bad, Direc-tor." He lifted his now empty beer bottle. "Goin' out for more beer."
He turned and moseyed up the steps. She couldn't really leave now. She took a swig of beer and moved over to the work bench, looking for sandpaper. Then she moved around to the other side of the boat, set down the bottle and started working. At the top of the steps, keeping his ear out for voices, Franks walked to the front door, opened it, closed it, then moved silently back to the basement door, promising himself that if things got heated he'd leave. He wanted to know if either of them had made a move on the feelings they had told him about. In the meantime, Gibbs was thinking.
She knew Mike was here, and has been for several days. She saw my bruise this morning, the one I got from that bar fight. She asked McGee to do a favour for her. She went to the bar where we were the other night and recognised the description.
"You worried about me, Jen?" He was smirking. Franks glanced between the two. It sounded like Probie had just changed the subject, but instead Mike had the impression Gibbs was carrying on a silent conversation that he wasn't privy to.
"You got into a barfight."
He swung his head to look at her. I've been in plenty of barfights.
"Off the clock."
Now how would she know that, unless someone has been telling her when I get into fights at work. "Ziva?"
She smiled slightly. Not just Ziva.
Gibbs attacked his boat more readily. They've been spying on me?
She was silent for a few seconds.
"They worry about you." I worry about you too, and they know it.
He snorted. They have a bet going on whether I'm a werewolf or a vampire.
She smiled. "You're family… Dad." They wouldn't hold it together if you got seriously injured. She knew she was taking a chance calling him that, but he ignored the obvious implication.
He grinned. "Which would make Mike Grandpa?"
Now she grinned. "I'm gonna start calling him that and see what he says."
"They worry about you too, Mom." They still care about you.
The smile dropped off her face. There was silence for a few moments.
"If I'd died in LA, Tony would have felt guilty. He probably wouldn't have recovered, because it was his job and he failed. Ziva would have felt the same, but she would have covered it. She's lost people before. Tim wouldn't have cared beyond trying to make everyone else feel better, and Abby cares about everyone, but she would have gotten over it fairly soon." Her voice was bitter. "Six months later they would have resented me and would only remember me as someone who used them, lied to them, put them through hell." No, they don't.
Gibbs stopped working on the boat and looked over. "Do you honestly think you mean that little?"
"I betrayed them, used them, lied to them, made them suffer so I could get what I wanted, proved over and over again that I don't trust them. I'm not 'mom', I'm the wicked stepmonster. " I deserve to mean that little. "And they're not the only ones I've done that too." I did that to you.
"You've changed." They can see you trying. They'll forgive you eventually. I have.
Jenny didn't say anything, just kept working. Drop it. Gibbs sighed and started working again.
"They know?" About the bar, about you thinking I'm in trouble…
"McGee found you. He promised not to say anything." He could probably figure it out, and the others might know if they pressure him hard enough. He won't betray us, but he can't lie worth squat.
There was silence as they worked on the boat.
"You've been watching me?" Still worried I can't handle myself?
Her voice was bitter. "Purely for betting purposes." I haven't forgotten what you said.
"I didn't mean that." I'm sorry.
"Yes you did." I wanna hear it, Boat Boy.
He sighed. "Yeah, I did," I'm not apologising, but I'm admitting fault. "It would be a lot easier if you didn't." I love you, but you don't love me. If you hated me I could move on.
"Yeah." If I didn't love you, you wouldn't have to feel guilty about not loving me.
The sanding sound stopped. Leaving the block where it was, she moved up the stairs. She spoke softly. "Goodbye, Jethro." They both knew she wasn't just talking about tonight. I love you.
He didn't acknowledge her, just kept working. I love you.
A few minutes later, Mike walked down the stairs. Jenny hadn't noticed him on her way out, but he had seen the tears streaming down her cheeks. Gibbs ignored him, kept working. Mike picked up the beer Jenny had left behind and took a swig, then started working with the sandpaper. There was a tense silence. He wanted to say something, and Gibbs didn't want to hear it. Gibbs was also sure that Mike hadn't left for beer.
"Why do I get the feeling you two got about three times more out of that conversation than me?"
Silence.
"She's in your head, Gunny."
Silence.
"Foxy woman like that. Wouldn't mind havin' her in my head."
More silence.
"'Course, she's your boss. Bet she's a pain in the ass about protocol. Although you're better acquainted with her ass than I am-"
Gibbs turned and gave Franks his best glare. It was a mark of just how good it was that his former boss winced. He moved away from the boat and turned to Gibbs.
"What'd I miss?" He said seriously, referring to the conversation.
Gibbs went back to the boat. "I asked her this morning why she cared if there was something wrong with me."
Mike waited. He knew Gibbs needed to get it out.
"She's always known what I was thinking. Yeah, there was a hell of a lot more to that conversation than you heard." The plane shuddered on the wood. "Told her I love her."
"And?"
Impatience and bitterness crept into his tone. "You saw And. She left."
Gibbs placed his hands on the wood and leant into it.
"Your exact words were 'It would be a lot easier if you didn't.'," Mike pointed out. "What if she thought it meant you didn't love her, but you knew she loved you?"
"She doesn't," Fist clenched. Pain in his voice. "Love me."
"What'd I tell you about assumptions, Probie?"
"I'm in her head too."
"Person starts talking when they think they're about to die, Gunny." He turned and walked to the stairs. "Girl has a lot of regrets. You might wanna think on that."
Jenny wasn't looking over her kingdom today. The normal sound of bickering wasn't echoing through the squad room. Gibbs' team had been assigned a case, a homicide, but they weren't bouncing ideas off each other. They were keeping their heads down and getting on with their work. Gibbs was in a very bad mood.
Those were the first things Mike noticed as he stepped off the elevator. He strode over to the team as if he owned the place, a coffee cup in each hand. He wasn't entirely sure why he was playing cupid, but he was the only one who they might listen to. And he was kinda bored.
"Hello, Probie. Your place is really boring after a couple days. Thought I'd bring you some coffee."
He placed one of the cups on Gibbs' desk. He nodded his thanks. "Where's that Lady Director of yours?" Franks drawled. Gibbs turned back to his work.
"Standing behind you wondering if that coffee's for me." She had seen him enter as she crossed to her office and decided she didn't really need to do that paperwork right now.
"You've already got one." Franks pointed out.
"It's for you." She stated, handing it over. Mike handed her the other cup. This should be fun.
"Now I feel really guilty about drinking your beer last night."
"It's not as if you didn't have a full six pack to yourself." She pointed out innocently.
"I was giving you two some privacy." Mike was intent on having Gibbs' team think something happened between them. It would be amusing to see how they reacted. Their faces were priceless. Gibbs kept working.
Jenny flinched slightly. Mike pretended not to notice. "Besides, it's a sin to waste alcohol."
"Touché." Jenny conceded.
Franks noted that not once had Shepard even looked at Gibbs. He sighed inwardly. Why do you always fall for the stubborn ones, Gunny?
They both took a sip of their coffee. Franks popped the top off his and looked inside. It was lemon grass tea.
"Very funny, Direc-tor,"
"You too. Trying to get me drunk?" She held up the coffee, which had gin in it.
"It working?" Franks drawled.
Jenny flicked the top off the coffee and sculled it. "Mmm. Nope." She tossed the coffee cup into Tony's bin.
"Drinking on the job, Director?" Tony grinned at her. "Very unprofessional, Jenny."
"So you don't have half a bottle of vodka in your second drawer, Tony?" She grinned back at him.
"It's actually a quarter of a bottle. Want some?" Tony asked innocently.
"I think that's enough for now." Jenny assured him.
Looking up at their banter, Gibbs was glad she had at least listened to something he'd tried to tell her. He looked back down at his work with no change in expression.
After another minute of light banter, the Director received a phone call and excused herself, snapping orders into the phone as she marched away.
Mike wandered over to Gibbs' desk. He was just about to say something when Gibbs' phone rang. He picked it up, assured Abby he'd be there in a minute, then strode out of the squad room, leaving Mike leaning against his desk.
McGee made eye contact with Franks and held it. His eyes then flicked to the right, then back down to his work. Realising the boy was trying to tell him something inconspicuously, he waited several seconds before he turned his head that way. A security camera was watching them, probably Jenny. Franks turned back to the team, then noticed that DiNozzo was tapping on his phone. Mike watched him as he then threw a pointed look at Gibbs's desk. Mike glanced down to see that the speaker light was on. He struggled to hold back a smile.
"I can't take this. Why the hell was this guy killed?" DiNozzo exploded.
"I have not found anything," Ziva stated, looking up. "He didn't have life insurance."
"Nothing in his bank statements or phone records," McGee followed.
"Franks. Did Gibbs say you weren't allowed to look at this?"
"I'm sure it was implied." Franks drawled.
DiNozzo paused. "How obvious was this implication?"
Franks looked impressed by the question. "Not obvious enough. What've you got?" He pushed off the desk and strolled over.
"Here." DiNozzo handed him the file before walking over to the flatscreen and hitting buttons on the remote.
Mike took it, flicked it open and found a hand written note, obviously from DiNozzo.
"Petty Officer James Harding…" Mikes tuned him out as he read the note.
Gibbs and the Director have been ignoring each other all morning. Not just haven't come into contact, specifically avoiding each other.
The Director has ripped a couple of senators a collection of new ones, and Gibbs isn't his normal Mr. Happy Sunshine self. When they finally have to come in contact, it's going to be REALLY bad.
Is this something someone can fix or should we hide under our desks and hope we aren't crushed when the building caves in?
He looked back up at DiNozzo, who finished up. "So, option one, this guy saw something and whoever it was took him out before he could tell someone, or option two, the guy is involved in something hinky and is smart enough not to have been caught, or left any trace." He looked at Franks expectantly.
"Option one is more likely, but I wouldn't rule out option two." He stated. "I'm gonna go see the Director."
"That's it?" DiNozzo tried to keep up appearances as Franks sauntered off.
Jenny sat in her office, trying to focus on the mountain of paperwork and not her tangled love life or the arrogant bastard downstairs responsible for tangling it.
The door flew open and bounced off the wall behind it. Fire ignited in her eyes as her head snapped up. Time froze for a second as her brain caught up with her body and she realised that it wasn't Gibbs in front of her, but Mike. Cynthia appeared in the door and began apologising.
"It's fine, Cynthia." She cut off her secretary. "Close the door please."
"Thought I was Gibbs?" He drawled.
"Everyone else in the building has actually learnt the proper use of a door." She replied.
"So you weren't watching the security footage on that nice TV there?" Franks asked.
"No." Jenny said archly.
"Then why'd they think you were?"
"I was before." Jenny admitted. "Didn't know they'd figured it out."
"Probie wouldn't'a hired 'em if they were complete idiots."
Jenny smiled. There was a moments silence.
"If you're here to talk about last night…"
"I wasn't gonna comment," Mike decided that a sneaky approach would be more effective in the long run. "Do have some questions, though."
"Why didn't you ask Gibbs?"
A worried look appeared on Mikes face. "Gunny didn't do much talking last night. Think he was pretty upset."
Jenny scowled.
"How'd ya know I was there?"
She held her eyes wide and stared him down. "I'm psychic."
Mike smiled. "Yeah, ya mighta got your agents believing the dark magic crap, but I ain't falling for it."
"Went to the bar you were in the other night."
"How'd ya know which bar?"
"Tracking device."
"That legal?"
"Who cares?" They shared amused glances.
"Why'd ya go to the bar?" He wasn't letting this go.
She sighed. "Bruise from the fight on his right arm. I noticed he was favouring the left. I would know if he got into a fight at work, and he didn't seem to know where he got it. I guessed he was drunk when he got into a fight. A bar. I checked up on it, I was right."
He was impressed. "What'd'ya mean by Grandpa?" He sounded disgruntled.
"Gibbs' team is a family. Tony, Ziva, Tim, Abby are the kids. Gibbs trained them, so he's Dad. You trained him, you're Grandpa."
"And you're Mom."
She turned her head away. "You heard what I said. I'm not going into it again."
He shrugged. "Well, I'd say Daddy and Mommy are pretty close."
"Go see DiNozzo, you can put money on it." Jenny scorned.
"I'd bet you two got three times more out of that conversation than me."
"We've known each other a long time."
"Six non-consecutive years. And six in between. How long's DiNozzo been here?"
"Nearly seven."
Mike put his hands on the edge of her desk and leaned forward. "You told me you still loved him. I told you he came out of retirement 'cause he thought you two still had a chance. Any particular reason why you ain't done anything 'bout that?"
She leaned forward. "Three months after he got back he got involved with someone else. Why would he do that if he came back because of me?"
"You get jealous?" She turned away. "Gibbs told me 'bout your 'multiple personalities'. Who were you when he first came back?" She didn't say anything. "Maybe he was tryin' to make you jealous, bring out one of the other ones. Things obviously didn't work out between 'em."
She glared at her desk. If there was anyone she could tell, she reminded herself, it was Mike. "He turned me down."
Mikes' brow furrowed. Probie hadn't mentioned that. "What'd ya ask him?"
"To stay the night. He was at my house, for work."
How the hell was he going to explain this one without making things a lot worse and having his ass handed to him at the same time?
"After Europe, who left?"
"Me, as you damn well know." She gave him a warning Look. He ignored it.
"He doesn't want you for just one night, and he sure as hell doesn't want to be a booty call. Convince him you want more than just sex. He won't turn you down then."
She smiled her danger smile and spoke in a sickly sweet voice that made hardened-marine-NCIS-Special-Agent Mike Franks want to run for cover. "If you think that about me, then you don't know me. I don't know what Gibbs said to you, and I don't care, because if you ever speak of it again, to me or anyone else, I will kill you with one of the many drawn-out painful ways that I learnt working with the MOSSAD. Leave. Now."
His face suddenly lost all levity. "If you think I'd betray either of your confidences like that, than it's very obvious you don't know me. By your criteria, I'm his 'father'. He trusts me, I trust him, I know him and I know you. The whole damn building, your boss, anyone who comes in here, can see the sexual tension between you two, and if you don't believe me, ask how much money is in DiNozzos' pools. You can deny it all you want, Madame Direc-tor, and keep finding reasons to run away, or you can face up to the facts and prove you're not a coward." He threw the door open and stormed out, leaving Jenny to add his words to the list of things she was trying not to obsess over.
Gibbs had been working in his basement for about two hours when there was a knock on the door. Mike had not come down to the basement tonight, leaving him time to think. Listening carefully, he made out Jenny's voice upstairs. "Here's fifty dollars. Don't come back for at least an hour."
Gibbs heard the front door slam and hoped that Franks had closed the door on Jenny. Please, just once, let him have done what I want, not what he thinks is best.
It was with a heavy heart, then, that he heard high heels making their way across his floor.
Her heart in her throat, Jenny moved into the basement. Last night, she had been so sure that she could read Jethro like a book. Then Mike had walked into her office and blown her confidence away. The man working on his boat might break her heart right now, she knew. If she was right, then he was going to. But Mike had put the doubt in her mind and she had to know. Had to hear him say it, one way or the other.
Gibbs didn't acknowledge her. Why are you here? She knew those words would be bitter and angry.
"I have to know."
He glanced up at her.
She stared at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. "When you said it would be easier if I didn't care about you, what did you mean?"
She knew he wasn't going to give a straight answer.
"I never said that."
"You meant it." She cut through his answer, Director-tone. "Cut the crap. Tell me the truth." Her voice turned shaky. "What did you mean?"
He looked into her eyes and turned back to the boat. "What did you mean when you said it?"
"I asked first."
"I didn't end it."
She got defensive. "So what, all of this is my fault?"
He turned to her. "Why did you leave? My ex-wives, I could handle that. We weren't working as couples, I was working too much, they expected me to open up more, they got tired of it. But you and me-" He cut off and took a breath. "Everything was perfect. I was happier than I'd been in years, you were happier than when you arrived-" He cut off again and shook his head. "Then I got that damn letter. You sent it the same day I left. What happened? What did I do wrong?" This wasn't Gibbs the Special Agent or Gunny the marine, it was Jethro the man. And Jethro was quite clearly in pain.
"You didn't do anything." She whispered. There were tears running down her cheeks.
Jethro looked at her. He nearly called her on the cliché of 'It's not you, it's me'. But then he realised he'd used the same line on his ex-wives.
"Svetlana could have been coming after us. And so could La Grenouille. And I was scared, and… I knew you weren't telling me things. I knew you were holding back, and I knew all the secrets I wasn't telling you, and I thought that if we really loved each other, if it wasn't just a fling, we would have told each other by then." She paused. She snorted, and her voice turned bitter. "That wasn't it. They contributed, but they weren't the final decider. I was selfish, and stupid and cruel. I wanted to take down La Grenouille, and I knew you would talk me out of it. I wanted to be Director, and I thought I couldn't do that if I was married, or, living with you. I decided I wanted my career more than I wanted you. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done. And every other stupid thing I've done since then you would have talked me out of if I hadn't run. You would have stopped me from taking the Grenouille thing too far. And being with you wouldn't have stopped me from becoming Director if that's what I wanted. I was stupid, and I made mistakes, made assumptions that were wrong and now I can see that. But back then, I couldn't. And I decided that you weren't the most important thing. I picked my damn career," The word was twisted with disgust. "And I regret it, every damn day. I look at you, and all I can think of is the life I gave up. The life I could have had, the perfect one. And now, you feel guilty," She was incredulous now, and her voice started to rise. "Because I still love you and you've moved on when it was all my damn fault!"
Gibbs was sure he'd never heard her say that much at one time. And he'd never said that much to her either. They spoke in half-sentences and references and trusted the other to know what they were talking about. But there was a more pressing concern.
He watched her incredulously. "You think I feel guilty?"
That was it. Jenny snapped. He knew she loved him, and he didn't even care. With the guilt, he'd at least acknowledged it, so he cared about her in some way even if it wasn't the way she cared about him. But now she knew, it was just his damn injured pride that had made him care why she'd left, and the lingering feelings there that had made him reach out to her over the last few years. A broken woman, she turned and ran.
Gibbs saw the desolation on her face at his words. She thinks I don't care about her even as a friend. When she ran, he was right behind her, charging up the steps and catching her as she reached the door, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her so that he blocked her path out of the house.
She shrieked and fought back, slapping him with her hands and attempting to drive her heels into his feet. She can do better than this. She's not thinking straight.
"Do you want to know what I meant when I said it would be easier if you didn't care about me?" He murmured in her ear.
"No!" She sobbed.
"Yeah you do." He spun her around in his arms and held her tight so she wouldn't do anything drastic and/or painful. And he kissed her. God he had missed that, her smell, her taste, the feel of her lips on his, the way everything seemed to line up. The way she curled her hand into his hair and fought him with her tongue, refusing to allow him dominance over her even as she pulled him closer. They finally broke apart. "I love you, Jenny," He licked his lips. "Never stopped." She looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, wonder and delight in every feature of her face, contrasting with the tear tracks down her cheeks. There was shock on her face. Wow.
And nervousness and anticipation on his. He'd put himself out there, offered his heart to a woman who'd already broken it once. Please don't leave, Jen.
She leaned forward and her lips met his, softer this time. She wound a hand into his hair again and pulled him closer, and he moved one hand from her waist and tangled it in her hair as their tongues duelled. Then he pulled back and set his jaw. Damn Mike.
She smiled and pulled out of his arms, moving to the door and locking it. He'll be fine.