A/N: I'm not sure if there will be more 1-shots or not, but I'd say there's a good chance.

***JIBBS***JIBBS***JIBBS***

"Hit me again."

Mary Shannon looked uncertainly at Jenny Shepard, now known to all as Catherine Jones. She noted the empty tumbler as well as what she discarded from her hand. "With what? Bourbon or another card?"

Jenny eyed her poker companion carefully. "I suppose I should be relieved that your fist wasn't an option."

The U.S. Marshal scoffed. "You said 'again' – I haven't hit you a first time, despite how annoyingly evasive you've been all night."

The new blonde smirked. She wiggled her glass with one hand and pointed to the two cards she'd discarded with the other. "Both."

The other woman dealt two more cards and then sighed as she refilled the drink. "You may want to slow down a bit with that."

Jenny rolled her eyes knowingly and took another sip of the amber liquid. "You see me as an amateur. I can drink far more than this and still shoot you squarely between the eyes from across the room."

Mary frowned as she leaned back against the couch, bringing her glass of wine with her. "First I'm hitting you with my fist, now you're shooting me between the eyes… You sure dropped your Susie Sunshine persona this evening. Should I be afraid?"

Jenny snorted before she picked up the two cards. "Sarcasm not withstanding, I left my knife at home. You should be safe."

She looked at what she was holding and exchanged three cards. Without averting her eyes from her lousy hand, she motioned towards the other woman's purse. "Still packing heat," she said shrewdly. "Yeah, I know." The corners of Jenny's mouth turned slightly up were the closest she'd get to confirmation.

Jenny tossed in a few chips. "You know, this was the first day since it happened that I haven't been in physical pain," she shared before absently rubbing her shoulder. "I miss it."

Mary looked at her strangely as she folded her hand, showing no intention of wanting to play again. She leaned back against the couch again. "Didn't realize you were a masochist."

Jenny snickered and then bit her lower lip thoughtfully. She leaned back in the comfortably plush chair, tucked her feet under her and focused on the tumbler in her hand. "With no physical pain to concentrate on, my mind is free to think about the emotional. I'm afraid what will happen if I start to do that," she said distastefully.

Mary narrowed her eyes. "Is this about a man?" It was her experience that if a woman was afraid of something having to do with emotions, it usually meant her love life. "There wasn't anything in your file about leaving someone behind." If she didn't know better, she'd swear she saw the other woman flinch. But after getting to know her charge over the past month, if there was one thing Mary knew, it was that former NCIS Director Jennifer Shepard wore an iron mask - which made her impossible to read. It made her almost unbeatable at poker and probably what made her so good at what she used to do. So if she did indeed flinch, it most likely meant she wanted to talk. And while dealing with her own feelings was something akin to root canal, Mary was willing to listen to the woman in front of her.

Jenny sighed sardonically. "Isn't it always about a man?" The look on her friend's face indicated she wanted to hear more. She rubbed her temple, irritated by her own thoughts. "Why bother dwelling on it? That part of my life is over. You've drummed that into me ad nauseam."

"Catherine," began Mary, ignoring the annoyed look on the other woman's face upon hearing herself called that. "Just because you can't return to that life, doesn't mean you can't think about it. Tell me about him." She was surprised to see a bit of the iron mask crumble.

Jenny was moved by the random act of kindness from the usually stoic marshal. Her eyes stung a tiny bit as her mind drifted to a certain special agent. "I'm afraid I'd bore you."

"Come on," she smirked. "You know I find you endlessly fascinating." Jenny raised an eyebrow, indicating she was about to retreat back into her shell. Mary realized she messed up. "Seriously… tell me about him. What's his name?"

She took a moment to consider before finally allowing, "Gibbs." Jenny felt she could talk about 'Gibbs,' while keeping 'Jethro' just for her. "He was my best agent."

Mary waited but the other woman seemed lost in thought. Getting her to talk was like pulling teeth. She got up and refilled her glass with bourbon, making them both laugh. "I need a little more than that. Come on! I'm living vicariously through your exploits."

"You're not seeing anyone?"

She frowned. "No. And we're not talking about me anyway. So how'd you meet Gibbs?"

"It was my first day at NCIS. I was assigned to him," she mused, smiling at the memory.

"Kinky," laughed Mary. But it was the first time she saw her charge's eyes light up. This man meant far more than she was letting on. "So he was your boss and then you later became his? Nice!" she enthused.

Jenny sat back and waited for the inevitable question about how or why that happened, but it never came. She realized Mary was in this business too and probably knew some were meant to be field agents while others were better suited for politics. The U.S. Marshal continued to impress her, so she opened up a tiny bit more. "We weren't together."

Mary looked at her glass of wine, wondering if that was why she wasn't making any sense. "When? Ever?" She hated to think this was a story of unrequited love. She sensed that it wasn't.

"The file. It said I didn't leave anyone behind."

"Oh, you weren't together at the time. But you were together at some point?"

Jenny nodded and even smiled at the memory. "Another lifetime ago." She looked at Mary and both almost spit out their drinks, the irony of the statement hardly lost on either woman. "I meant even further back. It's been almost a decade. Six years without seeing each other… then I came back to D.C., where he was, and we had three years of working together again…" she shared, trailing off.

"You and this guy worked together for three years and nothing happened? And you wanted it to? Is he nuts?"

Jenny straightened up in her chair, filling herself with false bravado that only comes after you're several drinks in and boasted, "I'd like to think so." She then sobered up quickly and shook her head. "I hurt him when I left him all those years ago. I thought he hated me, actually. But right before I was shot, I found out he did still care." She felt a little vulnerable, so she quickly hardened. "Which doesn't fully explain why when I asked the prideful ass to stay the night, he declined… respectfully."

Mary was incredulous. "Wait a second. You asked him to stay the night, and he said no? And you're still mooning over this idiot? Honestly? He sounds like a complete loser in my book."

Jenny laughed. "I'm glad you're on my side, but really… he's not a loser," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "When I met him, he was already a legend at NCIS. Mere mortals were scared to death of him – but not me. I was probably too young and stupid. Here he was – a mysterious older man, six feet tall, broad shoulders, salt and pepper hair – though more pepper back then and the most amazing blue eyes. He kept trying to break me, and I kept coming back for more. And I teased the hell out of him. I think that drove him nuts."

Mary narrowed her eyes. "Teased him about what?"

Jenny shot her a "really?" look. When Mary still seemed clueless, she relented. "I wore short skirts, low-cut or tight blouses and extremely high heels whenever possible. I'd then sit on his desk and lean over to talk with him. My hand would accidentally fall upon his knee, things like that. I was merciless," she laughed, mirth in her eyes. "But it was all my way of knocking him off balance, just like his infamous glare was about doing the same to us. I didn't realize exactly what I set in motion."

"Which was?"

Jenny smiled. "I thought he was safe to do that to. He was married," she shrugged. "It wasn't long before I found out his marriage was on the rocks."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Because of you?"

She shook her head vehemently. "I swear nothing happened before his divorce was final. But we learned to rely on each other. We became partners and things progressed from there."

Mary's thoughts began to drift to Marshall. "Sometimes partners getting involved isn't the smartest thing," she said, shifting around uncomfortably. "How'd it work out for you two?"

She took another sip of her bourbon. "It wasn't until we were stationed overseas that we… we crossed the line."

Mary nodded. "Did it make things awkward?"

Jenny laughed at the memory. "It was awkward until we crossed the line. The sexual tension had us ready to strangle each other. But after," she teased, lifting her eyebrows. "We were so in sync - living on the edge and working undercover throughout Europe."

She could see the obvious mood change. "What happened? Why'd you leave?"

Jenny looked at her, stunned. She allowed herself to think back for the first time in ages – and it began to overwhelm her. "I uh…" She swallowed hard and looked around, suddenly uncomfortable. "I think…" she trailed off again.

And then it happened. Mary saw the iron mask fall back into place.

Jenny's jaw stiffened and her eyes became hardened as she eyed her drink. "I left because I had to do what was best for me." She turned to face Mary, their eyes meeting.

Mary couldn't put her finger on it, but something in her friend changed in that moment. It gave her a sense of foreboding. She decided not to pry any more that evening, but she had a feeling something was eating away at her and being the person that she was, Mary was going to have to get to the bottom of it.