Title: Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda
Rating: G
Spoilers: Major ones for the latter half of season five, up to and including Judgment Day.
Summary: He had loved her, once. A long time ago. She'd made her choices and so had he.
He sat in his basement, an old, faded picture on the workbench before him. It'd been taken nine years ago, back when…
Taking a swig of bourbon, he gazed at the faces staring back at him. At Jenny, standing behind him, her arms around his neck, a twinkle in her eye. At his own face, younger, less guarded, quietly amused.
He had loved her, once. A long time ago. She'd made her choices and so had he. Their separation had been icy, and the repercussions of it had been felt from the day they were reunited as Director and subordinate.
He'd stored an image of her in his mind over the six years they'd been apart. It was subjective, idealised and inaccurate, and as soon as he began spending time around her again he realised it. She irritated him beyond all measure; her infuriating way of doing things by the book often caused conflict between them. Yes, a Director should observe protocol. But he'd known her before diplomacy became her life. Known she was capable of thinking outside the box and bending the rules for the greater good. To see her shut off that part of herself was maddening.
And yet… From the ashes of their tumultuous relationship, a friendship had formed, growing and developing into one of the strongest he'd ever known. Her dry, witty sense of humour and compassionate nature remained unchanged, and although they argued often, it was hardly ever personal.
But now she was gone. He'd known she was sick, known it from the moment Ducky refused to confirm or deny that it was her blood he'd had Abby test. He'd been waiting for her to confide in him. He should have known she was too stubborn to admit a weakness.
Eventually, his patience would have worn thin, and he'd have insisted on answers. But he'd left it too late to ask.
Shoulda, coulda, woulda.
It wouldn't do either of them any good, now.