A/N: My take on what should have happened after the scene in Autopsy. Don't expect updates from my other fiches for a while, my computer is broken and I don't have any of the chapters ready to update. But you can expect new fiches and one shots out of me until the computer is fixed.
Jeopardy
Jethro walked out of Autopsy, leaving Jen and Ducky alone. He returned to the bullpen and started on his paperwork, shouting at his team to get theirs done before heading home. He worked and finished quickly, leaving the building to get coffee, picking up a second to deliver to the Director who was in her office, making a call to Stanley's family to personally tell them of his untimely demise.
He dropped the coffee off at her desk after opening her office door quietly and shutting just as quietly. He watched over his team from the balcony outside of MTAC. Ziva noticed him immediately and nodded to him before turning back to her computer screen and typing up her report on the case. Tim felt eyes on the back of his head and glanced up at him before tilting his head at his boss before also returning to his report.
Tony didn't feel anything and was too busy trying to get a rise out of his teammates instead of working. When he went too far, Ziva pointed with a stapler up to the balcony and Tony glanced up to see the raised eyebrows of his boss and scurried back to his desk and began to work. Gibbs shook his head at the antics of his senior field agent, a supposed adult.
He continued to watch them finish their paperwork on the case. Tim finished first and had his printed and signed before placing it on Gibbs' desk with the older man's report.
"McGee, go to Abby and see if she has her report to add to the file." Gibbs said and the younger man nodded before heading to the back elevator and down to Abby and her Labby. Ziva finished next and left for the day, Ducky's autopsy report having been brought up with Jethro. Tony still worked for another hour, but Jethro didn't stick around to see what time he left. Because about ten minutes after Ziva left Cynthia approached him. She looked nervous and unsure as she approached the grouchy Special Agent her boss was fond of.
"Special Agent Gibbs," She said, announcing her arrival. He turned to her and raised his eyebrow. "I believe you would be of the most help to the director now." She told him sighing, not really sure how her boss would react to this.
"Why?" He asked looking at her with his brow furrowed.
"I think the events of the day are catching up to her, she's been sitting silently on her couch for the past twenty minutes just staring into space. I thought she was just taking a moment to collect her thoughts after telling the family of her driver, but she still hasn't moved." She sounded concerned for her boss and he nodded before sipping the last of the coffee in his cup before tossing it into her trash can on his way into her office. He entered the inner office and saw Jen staring into space somewhere to his right. Her eyes were glassy, suggesting that she wasn't all there.
He sat down next to her on the couch and lightly touched her shoulder. She jumped and turned to him and glared before leaning back against him, needing to feel safe. SHe felt safe with only three people in her life; her grandfather who would watch her when her father served overseas, he died when she was a teenager in high school, her own father who passed away, murdered, when she was in college and Jethro, who would hold her when the job in Paris was too hard to handle on her own.
Jethro was the only one still alive and Jenny knew that she wouldn't survive the night without him near her. She let his ever present smell of coffee, bourbon and wood surround her and relax her tired, aching muscles.
He had no idea why she was curling into him, but he could guess and so he let her. For twenty minutes he sat and breathed deeply in and out calming down from the roller coaster he'd been on all afternoon as well as bringing her back down to a normal breathing rate.
When it was quitting time he stood up before moving around her desk and saving what she had on the screen before shutting it down and grabbing her coat from the back of the chair. He grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer and her cell from the desktop and moved back over to her and handing it to her before slipping out of the office and rushing down the stairs to do the same to his desk, grabbing his gun and badge too before heading back into the office. She was still sitting down and holding her coat so Jethro moved up to her and took in from her hands before pulling her up and sliding the coat over her shoulders, not bothering with the arms.
He carried her briefcase in one hand with her purse and guided her out of the office and down to the parking garage with the other. He bypassed her towne car knowing that it would trigger memories of the day to come and he didn't want that right now. Instead he led her to his own truck and helped her into the passenger seat, making sure she buckled herself in before closing her door and running around the front of the car to his side and climbing in.
He pulled out of the parking lot of NCIS and drove off of the Navy Yard. He drove through the Starbucks drive through getting him and Jen a coffee and drove away ordering Chinese for delivery to his house. Jenny was holding her coffee cup in both hands and staring out the window and didn't hear the conversation next to her.
She was thinking about how fragile life was and how quickly it could be over. How short life could be. She knew that as an agent she had a shortened life span and she had accepted that. She had also accepted that her life could last longer as Director, even though she would have to deal with a security detail and threats from inside and outside her country. She really had accepted that she might die; they all had to in the line of work she and Jethro did.
But that did not mean she would or should be and die alone. Her grandfather died in a hospice mere minutes after his son, daughter and daughter-in-law and granddaughter and a few still living friends had time to say good bye. He didn't die alone. Her father had died alone. No he didn't; he died without loved ones near by, but Jenny was adamant that her father was murdered so he died with the murder. So he too didn't die alone.
So that meant Jenny didn't have to die alone. Like she almost did today. She had been so close many times that afternoon to die with only her murderers instead of loved ones. That was not how she wanted to go.
Now she didn't know how she wanted to go, but she knew that she wanted to have someone there. Someone she loved. And that had to be Jethro. He was the only man she had ever truly loved, and she knew it would stay that way. If after six years of not seeing him and she was still in love with him was any indication, then she would always love him and she couldn't ask any other man to play second fiddle.
But of course the revelation came today; it couldn't have come earlier. Like say the day she took the position as Director and came face-to-face with Jethro for the first time in six years. No it had to come after her brain took over her mouth and tell Jethro that ridiculous rule "no off the job."
Hah, she'd broken that rule within the first week, heading over to his place to reprimand him and staying to watch him work on the boat to avoid her empty house. Heading to his house to have her date pick her up so she could check on him and Zach. But her brain had said the words and now she had to verbally rescind them. Because he would honor her word no matter what her actions said. It was his way to protect both him and her from getting hurt, again.
She felt the car stop and looked up, not surprised to see his house instead of her townhouse. She smiled faintly, hearing his door open and close. He came around and opened her door for her, earning a soft smile for his gesture. He smirked back and placed his hand on her lower
back, leading her into the unlocked house.
"why do you leave your house unlocked?" She asked, the first words she'd uttered all afternoon since making the call to her driver's family. He just looked at her and shook his head.
"Nothing of value to take," he answered simply and she nodded before letting him lead her into the basement and the covered couch that resided in a corner. He pulled the cover back, revealing a simple brown leather sofa. He led her to sit down before passing her one of the coffees that he'd put on the workbench. She smiled and watched him start to sand the boat frame. He needed to sand it a little more before moving onto the next step with the hull of the boat.
The doorbell sounded 20 minutes later and Jethro headed up the stairs, paid for their food and headed back to the basement. He smiled at her before taking a seat on the other end of the couch and setting the food up between them.
He opened the box of rice creating a tray for it before handing her her container of orange chicken and taking his container of beef and broccoli. They ate in comfortable silence, occasionally sharing looks and smirks until their food is gone.
He makes cleanup quick by tossing the food containers, leftover rice and chopsticks into the take out bag before running to the outside trash can before returning to find her curled up in a ball, her back at the back of the couch. She was zoned out, her glazed eyes aimed at the boat.
She was off in her own thoughts and Jethro wanted to have a few minutes alone with his thoughts and started to resume work on the boat, starting on the side farthest from her. He thought about how comfortable they still were around each other. Even a few months ago, he thought they would be awkward around each other because of how things were left; unresolved. But even her first day back in DC, as the Director, they still teased, lightly flirted and challenged each other, just as they always had. It wasn't awkward at all. He had even revived an old habit of bringing in random take out up to her office late at night while both were still working on paperwork. Though back then the take out had been served over his desk down in the bull pen and not on her coffee table.
Everything was going well and he was tempted to push her harder than he had. He wanted to grab her and kiss her, but her words on the steps her first day usually stopped him.
No off the job.
Those words would be the death of him.
Not that she didn't immediately physically rescind the words by flirting with him. But Jenny was a person of words; and though Jethro was a person of action, he had to respect her mode of communication. She had to say to hell with her words then or something before he would take the first step in repairing the wound they gave each other when parting seven, almost eight, years ago.
Sure the letter left in the coat of her pocket, the pocket of the jacket he gave her as a present, hurt. It hurt like hell. Yeah he wasn't denying it to himself, or even to Ducky when he told the older man after returning alone.
But after the Scott left, and more bourbon then good found its way down his throat; he retaliated in a drunken rage of anger and hurt.
He had drove over to her place and trashed it. Ripped the bedding from the bed in her room, tore every piece of lingerie she had ever worn for him and more that she hadn't yet worn, but promised to during the night time hours curled up in their Parisian hotel.
He burnt every paper on her study desk, turned over each piece of furniture in the room, and poured all the alcohol in the cabinet all over the nice hardwood floor.
He had been about to leave when Naomi returned with food, Jenny would be returning to pack more of her stuff to move to London then Spain. SHe knew who he was and at first was glad to see him, then concerned after seeing him drunk. She took him home, telling him that her son would take his truck back in the morning after picking Jen up.
Hearing her name from the Hispanic woman sent him into another burst of rage and he cursed her out saying he wished he never met her, never trusted her so she would never of broken his heart. It was only after dropping him off and returning back to the Townhouse that she discovered what he had done.
He never knew if the older woman had told his boss what happened or if she had stayed all night fixing what he had done so she would never find out. In truth he wanted to know but didn't know how to ask.
Jenny had at first just smiled at how the silent, gruff marine she was with had a hospitable side to him. But then she had to decide how to rescind her words on the stairs at NCIS. She knew she had to use words, she couldn't just kiss him, no matter how much she wanted to do just that.
She knew his heart was hurting, and had been hurting for many years. Though maybe he didn't know that she too had been hurting. Her heart really was broken. Had been from the moment she walked away from him, leaving behind him to find her jacket and letter. She was the one who left, not knowing what to expect from someone who had already been divorced twice when she meet him. THen he called her SHannon one night when she had to leave their bed to meet with Callen who needed someone to help his cover. She had woken him, he was a Marine after all, when she left the bed and he had asked in a voice filled with sleep, a voice she thought was completely adorable and one she wanted hear every day; until her tired brain processed his words.
"Come back to bed, Shannon."
Shannon…
The name still haunted Jenny. She was shocked by the name, she didn't know the owner of the name or who she was. She had initially assumed that she was a girl in the States he was seeing. She had handled getting Callen, who passed on intel on their targets and passed on instructions for them to take one of the remaining two and eliminate them.
She hadn't killed her mark, not able to kill the woman who was her own age. Jenny wasn't a cold-blooded killer. But she faked it and was honored with a promotion. She used it to get away from the man she was sure had been leading her on. She took the promotion and left. She flew to London, where she was to stay for a year before taking a team in Spain. She flew into Heathrow and stayed in a hotel as she searched for an apartment, flat, near the office building NCIS: London used as their headquarters. When she found one she flew back to DC to pack up most of her townhouse and sent it to her new flat.
Once she was settled she felt a little guilty for how she left Jethro and called and asked DUcky to keep an eye on him for her. The ME had agreed and she came to look forward to his weekly calls, as they not only held news of Jethro, but of his new team, new forensic tech, Ducky's new assistant and the NCIS building as a whole.
Three months after the older man told her that Jethro was to be married in a month or so. She had assumed it was to Shannon, but was further stunned to learn that his bride-to-be's name was actually Stephanie.
So after hanging up with Ducky she returned to the office and searched for Jethro's file. Most of it was redacted and her clearance only cleared so much up, his past wasn't one of the items she could gain access to. At least not yet.
But since she first pulled up his file, seeing his current medical status, helped her feel like she was keeping an eye on him. So she began checking his file every month, usually after one of Ducky's calls.
Then three years ago, a year before she was sent to Cairo, she had been promoted to Assistant Director. Ducky now only called once a month unless something happened, but she still would pull up his health status and team status. So when she learned he'd been shot in Cuba, investigating someone for GItMo, she was concerned and tempted to fly from Spain to DC to see him. But instead she pulled up the rest of his file.
He had lead an impressive number of high profile cases, including one on Air Force 1, which included minor hijacking. SHe read through a summary of all of his cases since she left, laughing and almost crying at some of them.
Then she realized she had a high enough clearance to access almost all of his file, only a few black op missions, most of them she was also on, were left redacted. Then she discovered who Shannon was; his first wife who was murdered along with their eight year old daughter.
Now his words, deeds and lack of words from Europe made sense. He had lost a wife, one he really loved. And his gift with children had been explained; he had a daughter of his own.
Her knew knowledge didn't really help her all that much, in fact it had made her doubt herself, which ultimately led to her near fatal injury in Cairo. She had used the recovery time after her injury to start working on the political side of her job. She attended meetings, quiet dinners, banquets and other forms of the political social scene.
That had helped her secure the position of Director, in SecNav's eyes. She did steal from Leon Vance, the AD out in California. But she would shake things up and show that NCIS could change with the times.
And so she had returned to DC and to Jethro. It was almost like fate… well it would have been if she hadn't balked that first day on the stairs and gone with her head and not her heart.
She had been caught up in her own thoughts for so long that Jethro had been able to work his way around the boat, and was now in front of her. She started when the plain view of the boat was suddenly replaced with the even more attractive view of his rear end in his dress pants.
Her mind was returned to the present and she spent a few minutes thinking about what she preferred: seeing him in his dress pants or in jeans. Both had their good points, and their bad points, but she didn't know which one she prefered to see him in.
Well if she was honest with herself, she prefered him with no pants on, but she didn't want to let those thoughts into her head just this moment. She had to get the words out her mouth first.
She unfurled her legs, wincing at the feeling of pins and needles that started to lance up her legs from sitting in the same position for as long as she had, which looking at her small watch was about 90 minutes.
"You know, you're the only man I've ever met besides my father who wasn't bothered by long lengths of silence." She told him standing up. He turned away from the boat at the sound of her name, catching her as her legs gave out from lack of blood flow.
He steadied her; his hands on her elbows until she had her legs underneath her. His fingers started to lightly move across her arms, barely felt by her through her jacket and blouse, but the gesture was loud and clear.
"Marine's should never be bothered by any silence that is not uncomfortable." He answered in his gruff voice. Feeling her hands land on top of his arms, which were still embracing her. She gave him one of her own smirks before taking a few steps closer to him, his arms now resting on her hips, after she moved them there. Her hands curled around the back of his arms.
"Jethro, I know you like actions better than words, but we need to talk," she started and he gulped and nodded, hoping she would say what he wanted and hoped she'd say. "This conversation will be hard for both of us, but I feel I need to tell you why I left." She said, chancing a look into his eyes.
They were clouded, with the memories and the emotions he felt then, and nodded gruffly, his posture now stiff like a Marine. She didn't expect anything less of him.
"I left because on the day we spent as tourists, getting to know the town, the people and supporting our cover, I told you something. My filter left momentarily as did my brain. I told you that I loved you." She started and he moved to speak but she covered it quickly with one of her hands.
"I'm not going there," she told him and he sighed and nodded, and she dropped her hand. "You told me 'That'll be the day' and yes it hurt. But I had figured out that you had a painful past to say the very least. So I thought you were just trying not to get either of our hopes up in case it didn't work after the op was over and we were back in the states. Or you didn't want the op hanging over our heads when you said it.
"That night, you were holding me in your arms and I was happy, content and safe. I remember moving further into your arms, pushing you onto your back and laying half on you with my head in your neck." She had a wistful look on her face, that was mirrored by his own wistful look. That was how they'd slept after that night, and it was one both loved.
"A few weeks later and we had both gotten back late from whatever we were doing for the op, and we simply fell asleep. A few hours later and I woke up needing to go to the bathroom. You woke up a little and told me: 'hurry up and come back to bed Shannon.'" She said and watched all the color drain from his face and he started to saw.
She grabbed his elbows and brought him over to the couch and had him sit down. He leaned forward and buried his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. She let him be for the amount of time it took to get him a tumblr, or mason jar, of bourbon. She took a gulp, a little Dutch Courage to get the next part out, and sat down on the couch and touched his arm. His head snapped up and every muscle in his body went so tight they were rigid. She handed him the jar and continued her tale.
"At first it didn't register, I was also half asleep. But once it did, I full on panicked. I thought you had been toying with me, not saying you love me because you didn't love me. I freaked and asked Callen, who was going back to give a Sit Rep to Morrow and SecNav in person to also ask about when the mission would end and getting a different job within NCIS.
"So I got my own team in London, taking over for someone who retired while the person who was supposed to take over had to take all the evaluations after being involved in a shootout in Ireland. I called Ducky and asked him to keep an eye on you, because even though I thought you were a bastard with a capital B, I still loved you." He looked up at her in shock, then let it fade, she used loved, as in past tense. It might not mean she still felt that way about him, even if he did feel the same about her and was no longer afraid to say it.
"So he called me once a week," she continued her tale, "then one week about three months after leaving Paris, he told me that you were marrying again in a few weeks. I thought this woman was the Shannon you had called me that night in Paris. But to my surprise Ducky said her name was Stephanie. I was now really puzzled and pulled up your NCIS personnel file.
"Most of it was redacted, including most of the personal information, and my clearance as a Team Leader wasn't high enough to access the redacted information. But after that I checked it once a month, see where you were, what you were doing if I could and make sure you were healthy and in one piece.
"Then I got the assignment to run anti-terrorism ops in Cairo with Mossad. I was also promoted to Assistant Director right before leaving. I then checked your file in the office in Cairo before leaving to run a raid of a building with kids being used on the slave market.
"My clearance was now high enough to see everything but a few ops in your file. Those ops I didn't need to see, because I was with you then. But I learned about Shannon, and Kelly. Jethro I'm so sorry you had to lose them like you did. And I'm sorry I left, making you feel as if you lost me."
He looked at her, shocked that she wasn't running from the hills. Shocked that she was still sitting beside him, not yelling at him for keeping them from him. He was shocked that she hadn't hit him with anything.
All of his other wives had reacted to the news badly. Diane hit him with a golf club, Ginger shut down and cheated on him, and Stephanie just broke down in tears, moving her stuff out that night.
She hadn't even moved and so he looked at her, his blue eyes which were normally icy or crystal like, were now like a warm tropical sea with the tears watering them more than usual.
"It hurts like Hell to talk about them, doesn't it?" she asked softly, grabbing one of his hands in hers. He nodded, looking down at his knees and the hand holding his.
"Jethro, this may seem weird to say just after this discussion or the past; but, if you want me to stay I'll stay." She said and he looked up and smiled at her, prompting her to give him one herself. Her smile still had the same effect on him. His heart felt lighter, and started to beat a tad faster.
"How will you stay, you said 'no off the job,' and I don't want to push you into something you don't want or ruin your career." He told her and she smiled softly.
"Well I could be cheeky and say that since neither of us are ever really 'off the job' we wouldn't be breaking that rule," she started, getting him to smile before she turned serious once again. "In all seriousness, Jethro, I knew those words were a mistake the second I said them; I was just too prideful and stubborn to say it and retract them. Until now…" She trailed off, as she felt his free hand cup her neck, thumb stroking her artery and the hand in hers tightening.
"Why now?" He asked, looking into her eyes, and she felt as if those blue eyes could see into her soul and every thought.
"Because life is short, and I've wanted to tell you since the stairs." She told him before his hand left hers and cupped her cheek, her eyes involuntarily shutting with a flutter of her eyelashes.
"I've waited nearly a year for this," he whispered before lowering his lips to hers, his own eyes shutting as well.
They kiss was perfect and well worth the wait. They kept it chaste and sweet, and when they parted, he held her hand and lead her up from the basement into the main part of the house. She started climbing the stairs, feeling the need to sleep and sleep in his arms.
He didn't follow her and she turned and watched him turn the porch light off and lock the door. She immediately knew that it was because he now had something worth protecting; her. He rejoined her and they headed into his unused bedroom.
She sat on the bed and watched as he shed his polo shirt and the tee shirt underneath and his dress pants, leaving him in only a pair of boxers. She smiled at the image of his skin in front of her. He handed her the shirt he just pulled off, and loved the smile that came over her face.
She stood up and peeled her shoes off along with the hose she was wearing. Then her skirt and top came off and she pulled the shirt part way over her head before removing her bra. When she was done, Jethro was in bed on the side of the bed that was generally his, it was closer to the door. She smiled and climbed in on her side and resumed the position of her on him.
They fell asleep feeling feelings they hadn't truly felt in almost six years. They know they were no longer alone and that life could throw whatever it wanted at them because they would face it together.
