Chapter 2

Gibbs was headed home with a constant fifteen miles per hour above the speed limit. He knew getting home as fast as possible wouldn't undo the trip to Jenny's house, but at least it would get him back to working on his boat. That usually helped to silence these kinds of thoughts.

He really didn't know what had gotten into him this time. He had simply noticed that Jenny's birthday was drawing near, had grabbed the compass, and driven to her house. And of course she had reacted in a way he could have predicted if he had thought this through – the only thing that could come from the two of them being alone in the middle of the night.

Well, he couldn't have known that she had been so stupid to send everyone in her service home to celebrate, and he had never really understood what it was that she wanted from him after everything that had happened.

She was the one who had specifically told him that there wouldn't be any more 'off the job' between the two of them, and she was always the first one to back out of a conversation that brought them too close to… something… something that started sizzling between them like pure energy. In short, Jenny behaved as if he had dumped her and not the other way around.

But it didn't matter. It was over. Until he was stupid enough to show up on her doorstep at midnight and that look was suddenly back in her eyes…

Dammit, this was exactly why he didn't do this kind of stuff anymore. It only resulted in headaches and wasted time. He should leave this to DiNozzo and be done with it.

His cell phone rang. Gibbs glanced at it and saw a picture of Jenny on the display telling him that it was her number calling. Apparently, Abby had gotten her hands on his phone because he certainly hadn't put that picture there.

For a moment Gibbs pondered to let it go to voicemail (which of course he would never check), but with a sigh he decided otherwise. Jenny was also director of NCIS after all. It could be important.

"What is it, Director?" he asked, hoping his tone made it clear that he would only talk to her if this was professional.

But he didn't get an answer at all. Gibbs frowned. "Jen?"

He pressed the phone to his ear and thought he could hear heavy, irregular breathing on the other end and then: "Jeth… ro…"

Gibbs slammed on the brakes so hard while spinning the steering wheel that his car turned around with screeching tires. Several other drivers honked at him in anger, but he ignored them. He floored the accelerator and sped back towards Jenny's house, cursing himself for leaving her alone like that in the first place.

He slammed on the brakes again when her driveway came into view and didn't bother to turn off the engine. Gibbs jumped out of his car, weapon in hand, and rushed towards the front door.

He found his worst fears confirmed when he saw it standing wide open – giving view to the director of NCIS lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood.

"Jenny!"

Gibbs dropped to the ground next to her, quickly trying to assess her condition. She had been shot squarely in the chest, the cell phone had fallen out of her right hand and her eyes were closed. Most importantly though, she still seemed to be breathing, however barely.

Gibbs cursed before calling 911 and pressing his hands on the wound. "Stay with me, Jenny. I won't have another member of my team die on me. Come on!"

But the only response he got was the warm blood that drenched his hands.