Dear Fan Fiction readers, how I owe you so for putting up with my sporadic updates.

This idea would not leave me alone, because I heard the phrase, thought on it, and got this.

Old Habits Die Hard

Bourbon

She sat at her dimly lit desk typing away at a report, squinting to see the letters on each key of her keyboard, doing more thinking than writing.

Looking into the bottom right hand corner of the screen, the clock read 8:54 PM.

Well, NCIS Director Jennifer Shepard thought, Odds are I'm the only one left at this point. It's a Friday night. Nobody's going to be at the office right now… a little bourbon won't hurt the situation.

She reached for the crystal decanter and paused to laugh, the sound filling the otherwise empty room. Both things she said were easily contradicted by one man, and one man only.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

He never went home, and when he did, he never seemed to sleep, he worked on his boat, drinking hid damn drink of choice, that eventually became hers.

Ah, bourbon.

She poured herself a glass and took a sip, letting the slight burn and familiar taste set in. It reminded her of a time 6 years ago, around when she had first become an agent.

It had been her first gun fight and she had taken the suspect down, but had to hit the hostage in the process. The hostage had been an 11 year old girl by the name of Rose, and reminded her of her childhood best friend.

She sat down at the bar, her eyes red and her face puffy from tears. She hadn't expected to be this shaken up.

"What can I get for ya ma'am? You alright?" the bartender asked.

"I'm alright. I'll have a-"

"She'll have my usual Paul. Make that two, actually." A familiar voice cut off.

She turned; surprised to see Gibbs standing behind her, ready to help her out.

"Oh, Gibbs, I-"

"It's okay Jenny, you did what you had to do. The little girl is okay now. She'll be alright. Now do I have to worry about you being alright too or will you pull it together?" He said, as Paul came over with their drinks. "Thanks Paul."

"Wh-what is it?" She stuttered out, trying to calm down. He never calls me Jenny… she had thought.

"Relax, and drink it." He said, raising his glass. "Here's to you."

She nodded, and took a sip, cringing. "Oh, god, what is that?" Jenny sputtered out between coughs.

"Bourbon. It's an acquired taste. You'll learn to drink it. It eases everything after a long day."

"An acquired taste? Sounds like somebody else I know." She said. "Who taught you to drink it?" She asked after another forced drink.

"My boss. Something you don't really know how to forget once you like it. I guess old habits die hard."

She chuckled. Classic Jethro. Taking another sip, she realized how much had changed since then, but he had always been in her life one way or another.

Him and his damn bourbon.