March 2000
Anthony DiNozzo silently sat at his desk in the squad room. The young agent was lost in thought. His mind was racing with questions he dare not ask for fear of the almighty head slap that would come his way. His boss's behavior had considerably confused him for the last few weeks. A few days ago, Tony thought that the belligerent mute to whom he answered had actually smiled when getting off the elevator with that redhead. The boss man didn't smile! Tony had come to the conclusion that Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't have those sorts of muscles in his face, but he'd witnessed the smile with his own eyes. The next day, Tony made an appointment with his optometrist to have his vision checked, and his sight was perfection. It was that redhead that caused Gibbs to smile. He didn't know her name, but he knew she was a looker. DiNozzo was curious and itching to find out who she was exactly, but he just couldn't ask Gibbs. Well, he could, but he liked living.
When Gibbs rounded the corner barking about a dead Marine somewhere, DiNozzo nearly fell out of his chair. His moment of deep contemplation had been shattered into a million pieces. The agent scrambled for his agency issued backpack and ran after his boss to the elevator. He jumped inside before the doors closed and grinned widely in achievement. Gibbs glared at the younger man and swiftly smacked him on the back of his skull.
Tony squawked loudly and dropped his backpack on the floor. He felt like his brain had bounced inside of his head like a pinball in a machine. "Boss! What was that for?"
"For thinkin' what you were thinkin'," Gibbs answered brusquely and sipped from his to-go coffee cup.
DiNozzo slumped against the wall of the elevator and rubbed his aching head. He didn't know how Gibbs could read minds or always be one step ahead of him. For the rest of the day, Tony did his best not to think about Gibbs and that redhead, and he didn't until Gibbs let him venture to autopsy unsupervised. DiNozzo's brain was free to wonder without the constant, nagging fear of abuse. Of course, Ducky would know about the woman. The Scottish medical examiner was a well of knowledge, and being so close to the possibility of the truth was too much for Anthony DiNozzo to withstand.
In the middle of informing the special agent of his findings, Dr. Mallard stopped talking and looked at the young man. "Anthony, you are not interested in what I'm telling you."
"What?" Tony asked. "I am, Ducky. It's just," he paused, contemplating if he should continue rambling.
"What is on your mind?" Ducky inquired.
"Boss and the redhead. Who is she?" Tony questioned quickly.
Dr. Mallard shook his head and looked to the floor briefly. He looked at DiNozzo and led him to the doors, clasping the agent on the shoulder. "Anthony, you will learn in time that it is best not to ask about some things around here."
It was late at NCIS headquarters. Outside, the sun had long since set, and inside most agents had vacated the premises. Jenny sat across from Ducky in the dimly lit room of autopsy. The pair was sharing a pot of tea and conversation while Jenny waited for Gibbs' return. For some reason, Jethro had put it into his mind that he should escort her to and from headquarters everyday. The redhead glanced at the time on her silver watch, a gift from her late father, and huffed. "He's being overprotective," she said in frustration.
Ducky chuckled softly. "My dear, it's for a good reason," he told his companion. Gibbs had instructed Ducky to keep an eye on Jenny until his return. Ducky was unclear on how together his two friends were, but he couldn't blame Jethro for being particularly overprotective of Jenny and the baby.
"I can take care of myself. Jethro knows that. He's being controlling," the redhead pouted.
The medical examiner said nothing. He didn't want to anger the redhead, so he merely sipped his tea while she simmered. Jenny sighed heavily and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She was tired and wanted to do nothing more than fall into bed if she ever got home. Jethro had told her that he wouldn't be gone more than an hour or two, and that had been four hours ago.
"How are you feeling other than being annoyed with Jethro?"
"Honestly?" Jenny questioned, looking over at the medical examiner.
Ducky nodded his head, watching as she shrugged her shoulders. "I can't get used to being pregnant. I didn't want children, Ducky," Jenny admitted quietly.
"To borrow from an Englishman, 'Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans,'" Ducky said, smiling ever so softly.
The redhead smirked softly at Ducky's quoting of John Lennon. Ducky watched her intently and leaned forward, propping his elbows on the autopsy table. "Jennifer," he spoke softly.
Jenny glanced at him, meeting his eyes. She hated the use of her full first time, but she had never minded when Ducky called her by it. He was the only one who ever got away with it.
"Do you want the child?"
"Yes, I do," she answered quickly and truthfully. "I couldn't go through with an abortion, and I didn't miscarry after being attacked," the redhead paused. She closed her fingers around the delicate china of the teacup and cleared her throat. The bruises from her neck and throat were gone, her thigh healed into a smooth scar, and the nightmares were less and less, but the attack still haunted her. Her hand drifted to her middle as she stared into Ducky's kind blue eyes. "This baby wants to be born."
Ducky smiled softly. The child was a fighter like its parents, and her response was enough to satisfy him that the child would be born to two loving parents. He reached out and held her hand, comfortingly squeezing her fingertips. The two sat in silence and sipped their tea.
"Ducky," Jenny said, looking at him. "How long will it take me to bounce back?"
"From what?" he questioned.
"Having the baby," she clarified.
"Oh," he responded and set his cup of tea on the metal table. "It depends on a number of reasons. If you require a caesarean section, the recovery will take longer. Jenny, if all goes well with delivery, you'll bounce back rather quickly."
She nodded her head in approval and took a drink of tea. Jenny needed to know how long it would take her to be back to normal after having the baby. She understood changes would have to be made after the baby's arrival, but she desperately wanted back in the field. Somehow, the young agent would make it work. The automatic doors of autopsy opened, and Jethro entered, glancing to Ducky and Jenny. He met Jenny's glare and ignored it. "DiNozzo got lost," he explained.
"DiNozzo's an idiot," she muttered and finished her tea. "Can we go home now?"
"Yeah," Gibbs answered and took her hand, pulling her up from the stool. Jenny smiled, pleased with the fact that sleeping in her bed was in the near future.
Ducky smiled at them and began clearing away the tray of tea. Jenny kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Ducky."
"You're welcome. You have nothing to worry about when the time comes," he said.
Jethro looked between the two of them with raised brows. "When the time comes?"
"Jenny was asking how quickly she'd bounce back from delivery. I told her there would be nothing to worry about unless she had to have a caesarean section," Ducky explained. "Oh dear," he mumbled softly as he noticed the look on Gibbs' face. He had unknowingly put his foot in his mouth.
Jenny rolled her eyes and headed for the door after slipping into her coat. Gibbs was quickly on her heels as she stepped into the elevator. "Why are you askin' that?" he growled.
"It was a simple question, Jethro," she replied defensively.
"You got a reason for askin' Ducky that."
She cut her green eyes at him and adjusted the scarf around her neck. "Last time I checked, I can ask Ducky whatever I like. You don't have to know everything, Jethro," Jenny snapped.
"I do when it comes to you and the baby," he countered.
"You do not!" she added, her voice rising in volume.
"I do too," the former Marine added, sounding much like a child.
Jenny let out a frustrated breath and felt like she was in a grade school playground argument with him. "No, Jethro, you do not have reign over me simply because you knocked me up in Paris!" She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from him. Gibbs rolled his eyes. He was in no mood for the redheaded silent treatment.
"Jenny," he rumbled, putting a firm grip on her elbow. When she jerked, Gibbs resolutely pulled her back. "We've talked about this," he warned in a low voice. He didn't want to keep having the same fight with her, but he needed Jenny to entirely understand that she wouldn't be able to have everything she wanted – like she was used to - after their child was born. Becoming a parent involved too many sacrifices.
"We have, and I told you I wouldn't turn down an opportunity."
"You'll have a baby, Jenny."
"Thank you for the observation, Captain Obvious."
He set his jaw as he stiffly glared at her. "Goddammit, Jen," he grumbled, realizing there would be no getting through to her. It was late. They were both worn-out and irritable.
"What do you want me to do, Jethro? Stay? Get married to you? Become one of your ex-wives?" she spat out furiously.
Gibbs released his hold of her arm and leaned in closer to her face. Silently, he dared her to break their eye contact. "You wanna marry me?" he asked, a feeble sneer crossing his lips. Jenny wouldn't marry him – as much as he may want her to if they were not in the middle of a quarrel – she wouldn't do it.
"No," she answered – stubborn, serious, and straightforward.
Jenny hadn't spoken to Jethro since slamming the door in his face when he brought her home three days ago. She couldn't believe that she'd mentioned marriage in an argument or that Gibbs had the audacity to sarcastically propose to her. Jenny didn't want to be anyone's wife and certainly did not want to be anyone's ex-wife. Her thoughts were broken as Noemi cheerily called to her as she entered the home. The housekeeper bustled into the kitchen with bags of groceries in her arms.
"Morning, señora," Noemi greeted with a bright smile on her face.
"Morning Noemi," Jenny replied, sounding nowhere near as cheerful as the other woman. She continued thumbing through the Sunday morning paper. She picked up her glass of orange juice and sipped it casually.
"How you feel?"
"Fine," the redhead stated simply.
"And the little one?" Noemi inquired.
Jenny smiled gently. She didn't think anyone in her life was more excited about the baby than Noemi. "Active," Jenny answered and knew what was coming.
"May I, señora?" Noemi asked, excitement bubbling up.
Jenny nodded her head and stepped back from the counter. Noemi's hands went to her middle to feel the baby's kicks and flutters. If anyone else wanted to touch and feel Jenny's stomach, she'd most likely cut his or her hands off. "Señor Shepard would be so proud," Noemi murmured, a smile on her face.
A chuckle escaped from Jenny. "Maybe, Noemi," she responded. However, she doubted that her father would be proud of her if he were still alive. Colonel Jasper Shepard wouldn't be pleased with his little girl being a NCIS agent, and he would not be thrilled with his twenty-eight-year-old daughter being unmarried and having an illegitimate child with a man fourteen years her senior. Her head hurt thinking about how much Gibbs and the Colonel would have been at each other's throats. Jenny sighed softly and finished her glass of orange juice. Noemi patted Jenny's rounded abdomen with a smile and straightened.
"Gibbs coming today?" Noemi asked hopefully. She liked that man. He was a gentleman to her, would chat with her in Spanish, and very easy on the eyes.
Jenny shook her head in response and set the empty glass into the sink. "No, Gibbs isn't coming today. Noemi, I'll be upstairs."
"Sí," the housekeeper replied. "I'll make lunch for later and go."
Jenny nodded and left the kitchen. Noemi was off on weekends, but she'd been dropping by more and more since Jenny had returned home. The housekeeper was desperate to take care of Jenny. In the master bedroom, Jenny closed the door and leaned against it heavily. She grimaced at the pain of her legs cramping and looked down accusingly at the culprit. "Are you ever going to give me a break?" she whispered. Ducky had lied to her, telling her that the second trimester would be the honeymoon of the pregnancy. Her back ached more from the extra weight. Now, Jenny had leg cramps and swelling to deal with but at least morning sickness was behind her. She pushed herself off the door and walked into the bathroom to run a bath.
Minutes later, she blissfully sank into the hot bubbly floral scented water and closed her eyes, reveling in the relief from her aching muscles and the complete quiet – until the bedroom door flew open and banged against the wall. "Just when I was getting used to my door being treated like a door," she muttered without opening her eyes, attempting to cling onto the serenity that had filled the room only moments before.
Jethro stood in the middle of the bathroom and stared at the woman in the tub. Unfortunately, the bubbles were covering all of his favorite parts of her. "Jen, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" she answered with a groan.
"You're taking a bubble bath at 10 o'clock in the morning," Gibbs mumbled.
"Why are you here?" Jenny asked, opening one eye to angrily look at him.
Gibbs shrugged his shoulders and put the lid down on the toilet, flopping down to sit. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. She turned her head and stared at him with a look in her eye that would have sent DiNozzo running and screaming for mercy in an instant, but it barely bothered Gibbs. "Are you going to sit in here?"
"Yeah," he answered huskily.
"Fine," she replied, closing her eyes. She could and would ignore him. He clucked his tongue and leaned back, folding his arms over his chest.
"Jen," he said, staring at her intently.
"Jethro, what?" Jenny questioned tightly. She was half tempted to throw him out of her home, especially since he couldn't sit and be quiet. If she wanted him to talk, he wouldn't say a single word. Jenny sighed and brushed her bangs away from her eyes.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine," she responded. She would be better if he wasn't sitting in her bathroom interrupting her peaceful, relaxing bubble bath.
He mumbled under his breath and continued to sit in silence. Jethro watched the bubbles slowly dissolve and Jenny's ivory skin wrinkle like a prune. He was sure the water was cold, but she didn't move a muscle. Finally, she opened her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. Jethro moved to get her a towel and stood in front of the tub with the thick, comfy towel open and waiting for her. He watched her come out of the water and stared at the bubbles clinging to her body. "Thanks," she said as she took the towel and wrapped it around herself.
Gibbs offered her his hand as she lifted her foot to step out. Hesitantly, she took his hand and carefully stepped onto the floor. He cleared his throat and anxiously watched her walk to the bathroom vanity. "Jen, would you want to marry me?"
"Is that honestly what you came over here to ask after not speaking to me for three days?" Her eyebrows were raised in astonishment, and she shook her head softly.
"You weren't speaking to me," he retorted.
She pushed her bangs off her forehead and wiped the foggy mirror off with her hand. He stood behind her and placed his calloused hands on her damp shoulders. "Would you marry me?" he asked in a softer voice.
Jenny tilted her head up and looked at him standing behind her in the mirror. She sighed heavily. "Jethro, I don't want to marry you," she whispered sadly. Deep down, she knew he still held bitter, nasty feelings towards her for leaving him in Paris months ago. And they hadn't even said those three little words to each other since their lives collided into each other for a second time. Jethro was old fashioned, and if he wanted to marry her because of the baby then it would never work.
He kissed her shoulder blade and slipped his arms around her, pulling her back against him. "Jenny," he whispered and pressed his nose into the crook of her neck.
She bit her bottom lip hard, nearly drawing blood, resisting the urge to melt into his touch. "Jethro," she throatily murmured.
Gibbs brushed his lips against the nape of her neck and slid a hand down to the curve of her hip. Her breath snagged, and she tightened her grip on the sink. He caught her eyes in the mirror and stared into them. "I love you," he told her earnestly.
Jenny turned in his arms and rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes. "I know you do, Jethro, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't marry you. I can't. I can't be an ex-wife." Her tone was soft, but he knew she was serious.
"You wouldn't," he answered somberly.
"There's a reason why you haven't had a successful marriage, Jethro. I don't know if it was you or them."
"It wasn't them. It was my fault," he interrupted.
She lifted her head and looked at him, taken aback by that bit of information. Jenny had expected him to blame the ex-wives, but he saddled the blame. She swallowed hard and cupped his face, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the words about to come out of her mouth. "Until you can tell me why you've never been able to give me all of you, Jethro, I…I don't want to see you."
He wanted to scream and yell at her, but he didn't. Jethro merely nodded. Her words hurt him, but he knew she was right. Gibbs had the opportunity to come clean and tell her everything, but he was ill equipped at the moment. He stared into her watery green eyes and let out a shaky breath, pained at the look in her eyes. "Please go," she whispered heavily. He kissed her forehead and left the room, jogging down the stairs and out the door. Jethro stood on the brick steps and glanced up to the window of the master bedroom, cursing the woman he loved for knowing him so well.