A/N: Hi, everyone! New Fandom - but I'm not a new author! I LOVE McAbby, Jibbs, and Tiva - though due to when this story takes place there is no TIVA :(, 1st NCIS story, yay! Takes place right after the explosion that kills Agent Paula Cassidy in "Grace Period". Saw it for the first time last week and my muses wouldn't leave me alone til I wrote this! Enjoy.

If Jenny Sheppard ever made a list of things she didn't do well, waiting would be at the top.

As a field agent, stakeouts had driven her partners "up the hall" as Ziva was fond of saying, Jenny thought with a smile. Jethro was not known for his patience either, but give the man a cup of coffee and he could sit as still as Rodin's famous 'Thinker' statue for hours on end. She however, had fidgeted and talked incessantly which had driven Jethro to threaten her with bodily harm until she managed to subside into awkward silence.

Until their Paris mission; until he had learned there were much more pleasurable ways of shutting her up and keeping her distracted. Ways that kept them both warm, safe, and gave them a believable cover in the process.

Jenny growled in frustration at the traitorous turn her thoughts had taken as she opened another file to review before she signed off on it. She avoided looking at the clock on the corner of her desk, knowing that only a few minutes had passed since she had last looked at it. The Muslim Peace Conference was starting and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the slight nausea and fear in the pit of her stomach.

Something was going to happen down there today – she just knew it. Yesterday's suicide bombing had taken the lives of two NCIS agents and Jenny had already had to make those difficult phone calls to parents and a blushing bride. She didn't want to make any more – she couldn't lose any of her team – she couldn't lose –

Jenny fought down the rising nausea in her throat as Cynthia buzzed her from the outer office even as the door flew open. Abby burst into the room with Cynthia right behind her. The girl's picking up bad habits from Jethro, Jenny sighed as she rose to her feet behind her desk.

"I'm sorry, Director, I couldn't-" Cynthia began to apologize even as Abby cut her off.

"There's no time! McGee and I matched a fingerprint on the laptop to Jamal Malik and McGee called Gibbs at the conference but now we can't get him back on the phone. Have you heard from him?" Abby asked in one breath as Jenny came around her desk to stand in front of her.

Jenny shook her head and Cynthia stepped from behind Abby. "That's why I buzzed you, Director. We've just heard from metro that there was another bombing. The blast took out the whole building next to the one where the peace conference is being held."

Abby gasped and Jenny's eyes darted to the girl in concern. The room was spinning beneath Jenny's feet, but she refused to succumb to the panic rising in her stomach. "Casualties?" she asked, and some part of her was amazed with how calm her own voice sounded.

Cynthia shook her head. "They didn't have more info since they were racing to the scene – it was simply a courtesy call since they knew we were on security detail."

Jenny nodded. "Abby, you get back to your lab and keep trying to contact the team. Have McGee keep working on the laptop, make sure that there's nothing else you missed, all right?" She paused and when Abby didn't move she spoke a little more sharply. "Abby!"

The Goth flinched and focused on her. Jenny softened her voice again. "Go back to your lab and tell McGee what's happening. I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything, all right?"

Abby nodded and moved in a trance towards the door before she turned and in two steps crossed the distance and flung her arms around the director. Jenny felt the air leaving her lungs but found herself oddly appreciating the gesture and she returned the embrace for a moment.

"He's not dead," Abby whispered against Jenny's shoulder. "He wouldn't leave us again – not for good."

Jenny swallowed the lump in her throat and gently pushed the younger woman away, not bothering to ask who she was referring to. She gave Abby a brave smile as the cell phone in her pants pocket began to ring.

Abby's eyes lit up with hope as the older woman stepped back and answered.

"Director Sheppard."

"Hi, Jen."

Relief sweet and complete flooded through her at the sound of his warm, gravelly voice. She felt herself begin to tremble and prayed that Abby couldn't tell.

"Jethro, are you all right? Tony? Ziva?"

"We're okay, Jen." His sigh came over the wire and she gripped the phone tightly as the cold fingers of fear in her belly clenched.

"Jethro, who –"

"Agent Cassidy's dead."

Jenny's eyes closed against the pain she heard in his voice.

"Jamal appeared on the other side of that damn sliding door with the bomb strapped to his chest and Paula tackled him. The wall slid shut behind them – trapping the two of them in the old magic shop and the rest of us on this side. Tony and I couldn't find a lever or release on our side and the bomb went off a second later anyway."

Jenny swallowed the tears that were threatening to overflow. "There was nothing you could have done, Jethro. Agent Cassidy saved all of your lives today."

"That's hollow consolation, Jen."

"I know it is. How's Tony? I know he and Paula were close."

"His hands are bruised and bloody from beating on the wall to get to her – even after it was evident she was gone." Jethro paused to clear his throat. "He hasn't said much – I told him to head on home. I hope that's all right."

"Of course it is."

"Ziva and I will be in soon to file reports and question Abdul some more."

"You really think he was involved?"

"He keeps swearing he's innocent – but my gut says otherwise."

"The famous Gibbs gut is hardly ever wrong. I'll want a full sit rep when you get here, Agent Gibbs."

"Of course, Director."

Jenny hung up and turned from the window overlooking the Potomac, trying not to jump when she saw Ducky had slipped in during her conversation and was standing by Abby. She smiled slightly and moved to sit back down behind her desk.

"I see Agent Gibbs' bad habit of barging in unannounced is rubbing off on his team members. Am I going to have to send out a memo?" Jenny joked, trying to lighten the dark moment.

Ducky stepped up to her desk, placing his palms on it and leaning down. "Jennifer, Abby told me there'd been another bombing and another agent is dead."

Jenny sighed. "Yes, Agent Paula Cassidy died this afternoon saving the lives of Team Gibbs and the other members at the Muslim Peace Conference."

Ducky looked stricken and moved to comfort Abby who had tears streaming down her face. "Come, my dear. Unfortunately, we must be the bearers of this sad news to Timothy."

Abby was worried about her Timmy. He hadn't said more than two sentences since she and Ducky had broken the news to him about Agent Cassidy's death. His shoulders had slumped and his eyes had blanked out momentarily before he had nodded briefly and returned to work on the laptop.

"Ducky, that was weird!" Abby whispered to the doctor by the elevator outside the lab. "What's wrong with him?"

Ducky looked back towards the lab for a long moment before looking at the beautiful girl in front of him. "Abigail, I think our Timothy may be in shock. He just lost one of his best friends yesterday and has been so busy working on this case that he hasn't had the time to absorb or grieve that loss before he loses another colleague. While Tony was closer to Agent Cassidy in a personal sense, Timothy worked with and cared for her as well."

Fresh tears pooled at the corners of Abby's eyes. "I don't know what to do or say to make him feel better, Duck man. I was such a mess after Kate died and Timmy was my rock – I don't know how to –"

"Return the favor?" Ducky suggested, his eyebrows quirking upwards as he pushed the button for the elevator.

"Yeah." Abby said nervously, pulling on a pigtail.

"Just be yourself, Abigail. You understand Timothy in a way none of the rest of us do. For as different as you are on the surface, you speak the same language."

Abby frowned. "Computers? Forensic science?"

Ducky chuckled as the elevator door slid open and he stepped inside. "Yes, those too."

Now as she twirled in her chair and watched Tim as he hunched over the laptop across the lab she wondered what language Ducky had been talking about if it wasn't computers or forensic science. Tim didn't know sign language, at least not more than the few signs than she had taught him when they were dating.

She looked up when she heard him sigh for the fifth time in ten minutes. Abandoning her spinning chair, she skipped across the floor to him and slung her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek to his.

"What's wrong, Timmy?"

He shrugged.

"Run every test you can think of and come up with nothing?"

He nodded.

"Then it's time for a break!" she urged, pulling on his hand and leading him to the back office where her futon and candles were all set up. He watched her silently as she moved around, turning off lights and lighting candles, finally settling down on the low futon.

She patted the mattress beside her, looking up at him through her dark lashes. "Come on, Timmy, sit down. You need to relax. Why don't you take off your shirt and I'll give you a nice back massage?"

"I'd really rather keep my job right now, thanks, Abs."

Her mouth fell open and she clapped her hands, once. "He speaks!"

Tim rolled his eyes and crossed his arms but grimaced at the movement.

Abby noticed and stood up, placing her hands on his shoulders. "McGee, please. I know that you're carrying all that tension in your neck and shoulders and one of my massages and a short nap will help." She stuck her lower lip out in a pout.

He rolled his eyes again but moved towards the futon. "Okay, but the shirt stays on," he insisted as he lay down on his stomach.

Abby shrugged as she pulled her massage oil out of a nearby drawer. "Skin to skin is best, but since we're at work, I suppose you're right. I'll just use this on your neck."

She oiled her hands as she swung a leg over his waist, straddling him so she could have easy access to his neck and upper shoulders. Tim grunted as she sat on his lower back, but soon was sighing softly as she worked out the knots in his neck.

"So, what have you been thinking about all day? You've been awfully quiet, even for you, McGee," Abby said softly after she had been rubbing his neck for several minutes.

"I went to visit Jim's wife, Marianne, last night."

Abby's hands stilled on his neck for a moment. "Oh, Timmy. Why didn't you tell me you were going? I would have gone with you." Her fingers began their massage again and he sighed at her touch.

"I know you would have, Abs, but I needed to go by myself, for Jim, you know?"

"I think so. How is she doing?"

"She's devastated but she has something that's helping her cope – or rather, someone."

"Her family's with her?"

"Yes – but that's not what I meant. She's pregnant, Abs."

Abby's hands stilled again. "Wow – did Jim know?"

"They took me out to lunch last week and told me. Jim said they weren't telling too many people yet – Marianne had gotten pregnant on their honeymoon and she was preparing to get teased by all her friends."

"Well, it does happen, McGee. I was a honeymoon baby." Her hands moved down to his shoulders.

"Really?" He grunted as her hands found a nasty knot by his right shoulder blade.

"Yup. What about you – were you a honeymoon baby?"

"Abby, I didn't ask my parents when I was conceived."

"Why not?"

"Because that would involve me talking to them about their sex life and I prefer to think of my parents not having a sex life."

"Then how do you explain how you and Sarah came to be?"

"Uh – the stork dropped us on their doorstep?"

"Oh, Timmy! Are you going to tell your kids that too?"

"Absolutely."

She sighed and got off his back, having worked out the worst of his knots. McGee turned onto his side and looked at her, a little of the light back in his eyes. She smiled at him. "You can't even talk about other people's sex lives with me – and yet sometimes I think I love you," Abby smiled softly.

Tim smiled and reached out, running his hand through a pigtail. "I know I love you."

Abby's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"I love you, Abs."

She searched his eyes, looking for fear, hesitation, shyness – any sign of the old McGee. Instead she saw certainty, calmness, and love shining back at her.

"You're serious."

"Yes – are you?"

"That I think I love you?"

He nodded.

"Oh, McGee, I do love you but-"

She saw the light dim in his eyes and her heart nearly stopped.

"But you're not in love with me."

"I don't know." She dropped her eyes and played with the ends of her pigtails. She felt his hands close around hers and lift her eyes back to his.

"That's not a 'no', Abs. What does 'I don't know' mean?"

She jumped to her feet and began to pace. "What does it sound like, McGee? It means I don't know, ok? It means I'm scared. It hasn't even been two years since we lost Kate and today Agent Cassidy died and I have to live with the fear that every day you walk out that door you might not be walking back into my lab! Don't you think I know it could have been pieces of you in autopsy? If not today, then maybe tomorrow?"

Abby's tearful tirade was cut off as McGee swung her around into his embrace, pulling her tight into his chest. As she let the tears fall, she silently berated Ducky. She told him she wasn't good at comfort. She had started out comforting Tim and look what had happened – he was now comforting her.

Tim was stroking her hair, whispering in her ear, words that didn't even make sense but were making her feel so safe and loved that Abby didn't want to move any time soon. But when he placed his lips against hers, she revised her thinking. This was the position she could stay in for awhile.

Abby let Tim control the kiss – something she hadn't even let him do very often when they had been together four years ago. His tongue invaded her mouth as his hands ran through her hair, loosening her pigtails. He pulled her against him, letting her know how very much she affected him. She moaned into the kiss and deepened it, letting herself get lost in emotions she hadn't experienced since the last time they were together.

When Tim finally pulled away from his Goth angel, he tried not to laugh aloud at her kiss swollen lips and her hair which was now completely down around her shoulders. Abby opened her green eyes to half-mast and smiled at him lazily. "Sometimes I really do think I love you, Timmy."

He pulled her to him again, a smirk on his face. "I know you do, Abs."

Jenny fought the battle with exhaustion but eventually gave up and curled up on her couch as she waited for Jethro and Ziva to return to NCIS headquarters. She'd been up for thirty-six hours straight and now that the adrenaline was wearing off and her agents were safe, sleep was starting to overcome her.

For the first time, Jethro actually knocked before bursting into the director's office. His gaze softened as his eyes fell on Jenny curled up asleep on her couch. Shrugging out of his suit jacket, he crossed the room and gently placed it over her upper body. He brushed some of the longer strands of red hair off her face, letting his fingers linger on her porcelain skin. She sighed into his touch and he moved quickly, shutting the office door softly behind him. He told Cynthia that the director was not to be disturbed barring an international incident. The assistant looked at the special agent in confusion but tiptoed to the office door and opened it after he left. The sight of her boss curled up under Gibbs' jacket made Cynthia smile and she began to think that perhaps she had misjudged the man.

Jethro came back with reports and food a couple hours later. He stopped in front of Cynthia's desk.

"Is the director still sleeping?"

"I looked in on her half an hour ago and she was still out, sir." Cynthia nodded.

"Why don't you head out, Cynthia? Try to salvage the rest of this weekend."

"You don't think the director will mind?"

"I'll take the flak if she does."

"Thank you, sir. Good night." Cynthia turned off her computer and began gathering her things. "Tell the director to call me if she needs me – otherwise I'll see her in the morning."

Jethro nodded as he slipped into the office. He moved around quietly, placing his and Ziva's reports on her desk, and take out food containers for their meal. He fully expected the aroma of the food to cause Jenny to stir but ten minutes passed and she was still sleeping. He was just beginning to wonder if he was going to have to get more creative when he heard her moan. Smiling, he turned towards the couch, expecting to see her sitting up but to his surprise she was still sleeping. Her head was moving, however, and she continued to moan.

"No," she murmured. "No, he's not dead."

Realizing she was in the midst of a nightmare, Jethro set down the take out carton and moved towards the couch. "Jen," he said softly, "Wake up."

"No," she said louder. "Jethro!"

His heart lurched at the sound of his name from her lips. After the events of the weekend it wasn't surprising she was having nightmares. What must she had thought when she heard there had been another suicide bomb – what had she feared before he had called?

Jethro crouched beside the couch, stroking her hair back from her forehead. "Jen, wake up! I'm here – it's just a bête noire."

Jenny's eyes flew open. "Jethro!" she gasped, sitting up and looking at him as if she didn't really believe he was sitting next to her. She grasped the edges of suit jacket, pulling it up around her shoulders, since she was shivering with cold.

He slipped onto the seat beside her. "I'm here, Jen." He reached out and touched her face with his hand.

She laughed shakily. "How many explosions do you have in you?"

He smiled the famous Gibbs grin that made her knees go weak. "I'm pretty tough to kill, Jen." He felt her trembling increase beneath his palm and he put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. "Hey, you all right?"

She pulled away slightly to look into his blue eyes. "I hated today, Jethro."

He snorted. "It was far from my favorite day either, Jen."

She shook her head. "No, I mean I hated it because I was stuck here, waiting, when I knew something was going to go wrong. I knew that your team was in danger and I couldn't do a damn thing about it!"

"We're in danger every day – it comes with the job."

"I know that – I just really hate waiting. I'd rather be out there with you."

Jethro looked at her in surprise. "Jen – you were my partner and gave that up to be the director. You made a choice and you said it's what you wanted. Are you saying you've changed your mind?"

Jenny shook her head. "No, I want to be the director but –" she bit her lip and moved out of his grip. "I can't talk to you about this right now. You're in a relationship."

"No, I'm not."

"You're not? I thought you and Lt Colonel Hollis Mann were seeing each other."

He shrugged as he leaned back into the couch. "We were – but not anymore."

"Since when?"

Jethro smirked. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters. I won't be your rebound, Jethro." Jenny got to her feet and held his jacket out to him.

Jethro's grin widened. "My rebound? Jen, you haven't been my 'anything' in years."

She glared at him. "Except your boss."

He rolled his eyes. "Except that." He motioned to the take out containers on the conference table. "Let's eat before the food is cold."

The silence between them was thick with things unsaid and it wasn't until Jenny was toying with her last piece of Orange Chicken that she sighed and said, "So, why did you break things off with the Lt Colonel?"

Jethro looked at her in surprise.

"Oh come on, Jethro. The last time you were both in this office, it was clear to me how much she wanted you, so it must have been you who broke it off."

He grunted.

"So, what happened? She didn't want to share you with your boat? She wanted you to grow your mustache back?" Jenny grinned.

Jethro sighed. "She's planning to retire at her twenty year mark in a few months. She wants to settle down and build a future with someone."

Jenny set down her chopsticks and tried not to laugh. "And you don't want to get married to wife number five and play house. In other words, she scared the pants off you."

He grimaced. "I've tried retirement, Jen, or as you so eloquently put it my "margarita safari". It didn't work – someone still has to keep the wolf from the door."

She nodded. "And that someone is you."

Jethro locked eyes with her. "And you."

She nodded again.

"So, what did you mean earlier? Are you tired of being the first female director of NCIS?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. But I am tired of sending you out on missions and worrying whether or not you're going to get yourself blown up before I see you again."

He shrugged. "Comes with the job."

"And I'm tired of losing sleep over it. I haven't gotten a good night's sleep since I took this job."

"I'm not sure where you're going with this."

She smiled, a slow, seductive smile that he hadn't seen since Paris. "I always got my best sleep with you, Jethro." She stood and came around the table, coming to a stop in front of his chair.

He smirked up at her. "I don't recall us ever getting much sleep when we were together."

"Well, maybe your memory is still a little hazy," she purred as she straddled his lap. "I seem to recall we slept like babies," she leaned forward and licked the outer shell of his ear, "eventually."

He moaned as he grabbed her hips, forcing her to sit still on his lap. "Jen, I thought you said no off the job?"

"Well, since we're always on the job, I figured technically we wouldn't be breaking that rule," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"That's twisted logic," Jethro growled. "But you're the boss." He crashed his lips to hers and for a few moments they rediscovered that they hadn't forgotten this dance though the time apart had heightened the need for each other.

Jethro was kissing a path from her chin to the hollow of her throat when Jenny remembered something.

She pushed his head back so she could see his eyes. "Just when did you and Hollis break up?"

"Yesterday."

"What?" Jenny tried to get off his lap but Jethro held her firmly in place, though he was laughing. Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "And you're sure I'm not getting you on the rebound?"

Jethro sobered and his hands moved up to cup her face. He dropped kisses on the pulse point of her neck, whispering against her skin, "How could you get me on the rebound? I've loved you since Paris. I never stopped loving you, Jen."

Jenny twisted her hands in his silver hair, inhaling the familiar scent of coffee and sawdust. "And I've always loved you, Jethro."

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