Author's Note: Takes place early season three sometime before episode "Probie". This is a Jibbs fanfic with Tiva (if you squint) ;) Don't like? Don't read. Shout out to thepockethuman for beta reading this, watching NCIS with me, and encouraging me to write again. Thanks also to everyone who reviewed my other NCIS fanfiction Something Worth Keeping Safe. Your comments made me smile. : ) Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own the show. Honestly, do you think I'd be writing this if I did? Title is from Mayday Parade.
Even Robots Need Blankets
"Zee-vah!"
The Israeli ignored the very special agent across from her and continued to work on the case report in front of her.
"Zeeeeeee-vah!" Tony stage whispered across the bullpen once more only to be met once more with silence from his partner.
"Ziva Ziva Ziva Ziva…"
The Mossad officer looked up sharply from her computer screen.
"What do you want, Tony?!" she whispered through clenched teeth.
"I dare you to sit at Gibbs desk and impersonate him."
"He will already be upset that we did not get jurisdiction over the latest case with the FBI. I do not want to insult the jury."
"Add insult to injury, Ziva. Add insult to injury. But come on! Boss and Probie are at the crime scene right now and it's at least thirty minutes away. They'll be gone for a while…. Gibbs will never know!"
"That a fact, DiNozzo?"
Tony rubbed the back of his head after the silver-haired, lead agent delivered a sharp whack to it.
"Right Boss! Just filling out that BOLO you asked me to. Not that you needed to ask me to do my job! I did it anyway as it is my job and I will do it to the best of my ability. Right… Shutting up now, Boss."
Ziva let out an almost unladylike snort at her partner's antics while McGee tried to stifle a laugh.
Gibbs stole a glance at the catwalk after hearing the doors to MTAC slam shut with a force that could only come from a very ticked off redheaded Director. He watched as Jenny stormed off to her office, muttering curses under her breath as she went before closing the door rather vehemently.
The Marine breathed a heavy sigh and, without any explanation to his team, bounded the stairs two at a time up to the Director's office, passing a protesting Cynthia.
"The Director said she didn't want to be disturbed."
The blue-eyed agent simply ignored his ex-partner's assistant and barged into the woman's office, the doors slamming against the wall with a bang. He was shocked by the darkness of the room, the only light in her office coming from the window behind her desk. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Jenny, or the mass under a blanket on the couch he assumed was Jenny.
"Jen?"
Her heels were kicked haphazardly near her desk and the suit jacket she had been wearing was thrown precariously on the back of her office chair. The redhead threw the dark-purple blanket off of her and started to straighten the wrinkles that had appeared on her forest green blouse and black pencil skirt while walking over to her assistant and the silver-haired agent. Gibbs couldn't help but smirk somewhat at the sight of her hair slightly tousled from being hidden under the blanket only a few moments earlier.
"I'm sorry Ma'am," Cynthia said regretfully, "I tried to stop him. Really I did."
The redheaded woman gave her assistance a small smile. "It's quite alright. Why don't you go home, Cynthia? I don't have any more appointments and you deserve an early weekend."
"Thank you, Director!"
With that, the young woman left leaving the director with her lead agent. As soon as the doors were shut, Jenny closed her eyes in exhaustion before gracelessly flopping onto the small, leather couch once more, wrapping the plum colored blanket around her petite frame.
"Jethro, I've had a rough day and I feel a headache coming on. If you've come to yell at me for the case I handed over to the FBI, I really don't want to hear it right now. Can it wait until tomorrow?"
The agent didn't respond to her question but rather silently walked over to where she was laying and looked at her, concern gracing his features as he sat down on the coffee table next to the couch. He took the time to observe her. Jenny's skin was paler than normal, dark shadows under her eyes, and her position screamed discomfort and fatigue. Her back was to him and her face was burrowed into the black leather sofa.
She took his lack of a comment as a 'yes' and slowly allowed her posture to relax. However, sleep refused to come.
"Jethrooooo…" The redhead whined.
"Yeah?"
"I can feel your eyes on me." She mumbled.
The man grinned slightly before his facial features melted into a look of unease once more.
"You alright, Jen?" he whispered gently.
She turned and shot him a glare for interrupting her attempt at a catnap. "Just a rough day, Jethro. Really. I'm fine, nothing to worry about. "
Gibbs was unfazed by the glare she was sending him, after all, he'd taught it to her.
"When was the last time you took a break?"
"To what?"
"Eat? Sleep?"
"Uh… Well let's see…"
"Don't lie to me, Jen."
"That's just it, Jethro! I can't remember… I was in MTAC since maybe 18:00…"
"And you've just now gotten out?! It's nearly 16:00! You mean to tell me that you've been in MTAC for almost twenty-four hours?!"
"Don't look so surprised. It was an operation in the Middle East that, with Ziva's intel, was highly successful."
His steel blue eyes continued to search her face, analyzing the way her usually vibrant emerald orbs seemed to lack their usual spark and the corners of her mouth were raised into a small, but tired, smile.
"After all," she continued, "it's not the first time this has happened."
"You mean this is a regular occurrence?!"
"Why are you overreacting? You've done it! I just do what you do, grab a large cup of Jamaican blend and catch the dirt bags." She reasoned smirking.
"You're not me, Jenny." Gibbs pointed out.
The redhead snorted sarcastically. "Figure that one out all by yourself?"
"You know what I mean."
The old partners settled into a comfortable silence, him smiling gently at her while she mockingly glared at him. His face transformed into a look of concern once more.
"That's not all that's bugging you, is it, Jen?"
Jenny turned so she was lying on her back and avoided eye contact. "You really want to know?"
The lead agent gave a stiff nod and waited patiently for her to speak. Jenny took a breath and began to play with bracelet on her wrist.
"I had a meeting after the op with the directors of other agencies to discuss the yearly budget."
Gibbs looked at her quizzically. "Seems like your sort of party."
She let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, maybe if I hadn't had every single one of them scrutinizing my every word. Do you realize how hard it is to fight for a larger budget when all they're thinking about is how you managed to get where you're at as both a woman and the youngest director to date. I've heard them, Jethro." She whispered brokenly, "Maybe I should've just stayed an agent. It was a hell of a lot more exciting and I didn't have to put up with near the amount of crap I have to now." She finished bitterly.
While she was speaking, Gibbs couldn't help but feel his blood boil. He covered her small hand with his much larger one and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "They're a bunch of misogynist pigs," the agent growled protectively, "I know how hard you've worked to be where you're at. Don't listen to 'em. You're the best thing that's happened to NCIS."
Jenny blushed slightly at his praise and squeezed his hand slightly. "That's sweet of you to say."
She gave him a small smile before running a hand through her already tangled locks and sighing heavily.
"I'm just sick of it, Jethro. I've been Director for only a couple of months but I still have to tolerate the cynics and chauvinists who think I can't do my job."
"Hey," the tall, blue-eyed agent injected mockingly, "aren't I a chauvinist?"
"Well yeah, but you're my chauvinist. There's a difference." She reasoned cheekily.
"Just like you're my schizoid liber." He teased back.
"Yeah," the redhead mused almost wistfully, a shy smile playing on her lips, "something like that."
Jenny's headache returned full force and she cringed. Her nose was scrunched up in pain and her eyes were firmly shut and she willed the pain to go away.
"You okay?"
"Just peachy." The Director grumbled, "I swear I'm going to need to start carrying a few pain killers with me for every meeting I have in MTAC."
The Marine looked at her thoughtfully for a moment.
"Lift your head up."
She opened one eye and looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"
"Just do it."
The redhead nodded hesitantly before slowly propping herself up by her right elbow. Gibbs quickly sat on the couch where her head had previously been.
"Now put your head down."
She turned and looked at him incredulously, one eyebrow raised in question.
"Come on, Jen," the silver-haired man quipped playfully, "Don't ya trust me?"
The woman studied him for a moment longer before deciding that she was too tired to put up much of a fight and tentatively placed her head on his lap. His hand immediately went to her hair as his calloused fingers gently threaded through her long crimson tresses, all the while lightly messaging her scalp. Jenny released a sigh of contentment and closed her eyes once more. She would've been happy just to lay like that for the rest of the day and it was apparent that the silver fox didn't seem to mind one bit. There was nothing awkward about it, as she had originally feared. In fact, Jenny hadn't felt this comfortable or safe in what seemed like ages. It was a welcome change in their slowly mending relationship, whether that be friendship or something more.
The former partners had settled into a relaxed quietness, his fingers dancing softly through her loose, fiery curls while her breathing began to even out. The woman reached one pale hand out from under the blanket and grasped his hand that wasn't occupied with her hair. She intertwined their fingers, bringing his arm to faintly settle around her small frame and nestling deeper into the soft material of the blanket. Gibbs smiled fondly and watch as the redhead in his lap slowly succumbed to the world of dreams.
"Jethro?" Jenny murmured, her voice laced with weariness and muffled by the blanket.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
His thumb moved rhythmically back and forth along the side of her hand, silently lulling her to sleep.
"Anytime, Jen."
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