Director Shepard stood in front of the window of her office, looking out over the Anacostia River. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes. Her hair needed a trim. Five minutes ago, she had hung up the phone after making an appointment with her OB/GYN. She still hadn't come to terms with the news given to her a few short hours ago. Jethro was the father. He had been the only person she had slept with since her birthday. The hours of her job didn't allow for suitors. She was not ready to tell him. For God's sake, she had barely been able to look at him in the elevator. Letting out a soft sigh, she was unsure if she would be able to tell him or anyone else. The logical part of her was telling her not to have the baby yet a small piece of her was telling her to have it. It would be nice to have something to focus on besides work and to leave a legacy behind. She shook her head and sat down in her desk chair, rubbing her brow and knowing she would need a large dose of aspirin.

"Be logical, Jenny. Don't listen to your heart. Remember the plan," she said aloud. However, the five point plan caused one of her biggest regrets in life…leaving Jethro. If she hadn't made the decision to leave him over ten years ago, she might be Jenny Gibbs and have a houseful of children instead of being Jennifer Shepard and having a houseful of old ghosts of her past mixed with silence. On the other hand, she might not be Director of NCIS if she had stayed with him. Jethro had been the one man to make her consider destroying her plans. She was broken out of her thoughts as Cynthia reminded her of a meeting with SecNav in MTAC.

For the rest of the day, she prayed Gibbs would not anger any other agencies. If he did, she would be entirely too tempted to pull out her gun and shoot him. She had thought about it many times before but couldn't find a way to justify the murder of an agent to SecNav. Gibbs must have taken her seriously in the elevator because she had not seen him. Honestly, her pounding headache couldn't bear him barging into her office and causing the noise of the heavy door hitting the wall. After 2100, she was still knee deep in paperwork. The last dose of aspirin was wearing off. She demanded Cynthia go home at 1900. There was no point in her secretary not having a life. Jen pushed herself up from the chair and walked barefoot into the outer office, sitting down at Cynthia's desk and rifling through the desk in search of aspirin. A bottle had to be in there somewhere although she'd prefer a large glass of bourbon. "Dammit," she whispered in frustration and slammed the drawer shut.

"You still here?"

"Jethro," she said in that annoyed pitch he found adorable.

"Well, are you?"

"No, I'm the Director's doppelganger." She moved onto another drawer in her search and smiled with delight at the sound of rattling.

"I never did know what that meant," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee and moving closer to the desk.

"Get a dictionary, Jethro! What do you want?" she asked, popping the bottle open and bumping out two pills.

"Got a headache, Jen?"

"Yes. You aren't helping it."

He smirked and followed into inside her office, watching her walk over to the small fridge in the corner and removing a bottle of water. "Maybe you should go home."

"I'll decide when I go home, Jethro," she said coolly as she sat down at her desk, putting her glasses back on. "You don't need to look after me."

"I used to."

"And you don't anymore."

He sat down on the couch and put his coffee cup on the table, expecting a glare when he looked up. Jen peered at him over her glasses and tapped her pen on the desk. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Nope," he replied.

Her eyes quickly scanned her desk for an object to throw at him. She contemplated throwing the stapler at his head. With her accuracy of aim and the weight of the stapler, Gibbs would have a concussion, and she wouldn't be any better off because she'd ultimately have to take care of him. The man was a terrible patient if injured or sick. He became ten times more stubborn and whined like a small child. She put her head in her hands and sighed heavily. She tensed when she felt his hands on her shoulders.

"You should go home, Jenny," he commanded softly as he began to massage her shoulders. "Relax."

"Jethro, what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You're tense. I'm giving you a neck rub."

"I don't want a neck rub.

"You used to love my neck rubs. After a long day, you'd want a glass of bourbon, a neck rub, and then a bubble bath. You wouldn't get out until you were a prune."

She sighed at the thought of the routine. If she hadn't left him, her nights would still hold the routine. Jethro would give her a massage and run the bath without her having to ask. Her breath caught in a hitch as she thought of what the routine entailed on occasion. "I want you to leave."

"I'll leave if you do," he countered.

She mumbled under her breath about castrating him and how she should have followed through with her previous threats. If she had, she wouldn't be carrying his child. With no notice, she pushed her chair back and smirked when she heard Jethro groan. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was that your foot?"

"Redheads," he mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, glaring over her shoulder at him.

"Uh…that your hair's red, Jen."

"I thought so." Luckily, the look she gave him seconds ago still put fear for his life into him. He watched her gather her things and walked over to the sofa, picking up his coffee up and draining it. She glanced at him as she slipped into her coat and picked up her briefcase.

"Hey Jen."

"What?"

"I'll take you home."

"No."

"Yeah."

She rolled her eyes and didn't care to argue with him, but she wouldn't mind knocking him upside the head with the stapler. He attempted to take her briefcase from her, but she pulled back. He tugged a second time and gave her the Gibbs stare. "Stop being so damned difficult, Jen."

"Why are you being nice?"

"I'm a nice guy."

A not so delicate snort escaped from her before she erupted into more laughter as he walked out of the office ahead of her. He shook his head and listened to her laugh. She regained composure inside the elevator and cleared her throat. Silence settled upon them in the elevator and in the car. She leaned over in her seat and began fiddling with the radio. Gibbs rolled his eyes as he listened to five seconds of each radio station. He grabbed her wrist, and she looked at him with wide eyes. "Jen, choose one."

Jen turned the radio completely off and settled back into her seat. She was beginning to feel lightheaded and closed her eyes. Dinner had barely been touched earlier. She hadn't had time to eat a full meal. Hopefully, Noemi had cooked and left it in the microwave for her. Gibbs glanced over at her. "Jen, you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine," she repeated, opening her eyes and returning his gaze. "Watch the road, Jethro."

He smirked and put his eyes back on the road. Several minutes later, he parked in front of her house on the curb. She removed herself from the car before he could open the passenger door for her. He followed her to the doorstep and watched her fumble with the key. "Move," he told her and took the key from her, pushing the door open after unlocking. He let her inside first and followed, going through the house to make sure nothing was amiss. Jen rolled her eyes and walked into the study, putting her things down. Jethro walked around upstairs, opening and closing doors. She went into the kitchen to heat her dinner, and he wandered into the study. His eyes were set on a tall glass of bourbon. During his mission, he knocked her purse off the desk. He cursed when most of its contents fell out. He shrugged and poured the liquor, glancing at the floor and noticing a prescription. Jethro took a long drink and walked into the kitchen.

"Are you sick, Jenny?"

"No," she answered, leaning against the counter in front of the microwave. Her right eye did not twitch, and he was hoping it would.

"What are the prescriptions for?"

"You went through my purse!"

He shook his head. "It fell over."

"How convenient!"

"Calm down!"

"I am not sick, Jethro! My health is my concern. Not yours."

Before he could reply, his cell phone started ringing. He stared at her and opened the phone. "Yeah…Gibbs," he answered in his typical fashion. "In the basement. No, I'll come over."

Jen smirked. She knew who the phone call was from. She took her food out of the microwave and walked over to the island, sitting down and watching him. When he felt Jen's eyes on him, he walked out of the kitchen. Minutes later, he walked back in and rested against the doorway. "I gotta go, Jen."

"Then go. There's nothing to keep you here." She continued to eat and sighed heavily as she heard the door close. She shook her head. What was it about Hollis? She could go toe to toe with Jethro and was successful…but so could she. She knew him better. Jen knew his likes and dislikes. He was like the back of her hand. The trait that confused everyone including Jenny was the color of Hollis' hair. Leroy Jethro Gibbs loved redheads. He had never dated a blonde before. She couldn't figure that out. Some days, she wondered if she should be more like Hollis. "Oh, give it up," she muttered to herself. "He's not yours anymore. He doesn't want you. He has her. Accept it."