A/N: As always, thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed. I enjoy all comments and glad you're sticking with the story, even though my updates take forever! Please forgive errors as I worked late into the night to get this done so I could post it and my proofreading skills my be slightly lacking.
Chapter 7
He stood before her, seeing and feeling nothing but the blinding hot rage slamming through him at lightning speed. It was irrational the way he was feeling right now and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that. He didn't understand where all this pent up emotion was coming from but it had the better of him now and was at a loss on how to stop it. On a different day, he might have expressed his regret over speaking to her that way and maybe would have sought her forgiveness.
Today was not the day.
And from the look on her face he knew she wasn't in the forgiving mood.
"Are you quite done?" she asked, the frostiness of her tone belying the calmness of her words.
Gibbs glared at her, trying to remember why he'd even bothered to come here. He shook his head. Clearly, this was a waste of his time.
"Yeah, Jen, I'm done." he said quietly, his voice just a cold as hers. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned and headed toward the SUV.
In two short strides she was beside him, grabbing his arm and pushing him around to face her. "No," she hissed, snatching the keys out of his hand and flinging them across the yard.
"What the hell did you do that for?" he snapped.
Jen stepped forward, crowding his personal space, her eyes blazing furiously into his own. "No," she repeated, "you do not get to come here, tell me off, and disappear as if its no big deal. You've had your say now its time for me to have mine," she told him, jabbing him hard in the chest. She paced away a few steps away from him as if she needed the space to swirl around and confront him. "I've explained to you over and over again why I left you in Paris. I had to do--"
"What was best for you," he finished, cutting her off. "Yeah, Jen, I've heard it before."
"Damn straight you have and you're going to hear it again and again until you get it through your thick skull." She approached him again, a freight train full packed with one heck of a temper. "My leaving had nothing to do with you Jethro and everything to do with the fact that I had to move on. I had a plan and for a while it was all that kept me going. Becoming involved with you wasn't supposed to happen. It was a detour, one that I happily took and I don't regret it. But the truth of the matter was that what we had was a step above a casual fling. Oh, don't look at me like that," she said when he glared at her choice of words, "you know exactly what I mean. I cared for you, you cared about me. We had good times together; we enjoyed the same things and the sex was phenomenal. But that was it. There was no commitment between us, Jethro. No promises of happily ever after. I didn't expect nor need any of that. When I left it was hard but I had to do it. I make no apologies for a decision that I cannot change nor would I if I had the chance to do it all over again."
Her words fell like lightning, sharp and jagged, her voice the thunder that made him cringe. Combined, they hit him like a class five tornado, swallowing him whole and spitting him out as if he were nothing more than a rag doll. He could do nothing to stop the power they yielded over him. An unfamiliar ache settled in the pit of his belly and all he could do was mask the hurt and try to redeem himself. "It's always about you, isn't it and damn anybody who gets in your way." He snorted as he stepped back, giving her a scathing once over with his eyes. "Good riddance, huh, Jen? Guess you did us both a favor."
Gibbs stalked away in the direction she'd flung his keys. He thought he saw a pain flash in her eyes but it was too quick for him to be sure. He steeled himself, refusing to believe for one second that she felt anything at all. Spotting the silver glint of a key ring several feet away, he scooped them up, wiping away the small specs of dirt. Returning to his vehicle, he spared a glance at Jenny, noting with some concern the rigid way in which she held herself, her arms wrapped around her body. Shockey, her guard dog, stood at her side, his flinty eyes watching Gibbs.
Gibbs climbed into his SUV, starting it up just as another car pulled up alongside it. He rolled down the window in the pretense of letting in some fresh air but in reality his curiosity made him do it. A slightly round dark-skinned woman in a nurses uniform emerged from the car, staring quizzically at Gibbs. He met her eyes, thinking she looked familiar but he couldn't place her. The woman flashed him a dimpled grin before turning her attention to Jenny.
"Sorry, I took so long, Ms. Jenny. Store sure was busy today," she said jovially. "But it seems you weren't alone. Welcome," she addressed to Gibbs, turning friendly brown eyes back his way.
"He was just leaving, Gloria." Jenny informed the older woman, keeping her back to Gibbs.
Gloria's chubby face crinkled into a frown as Gibbs bristled at Jenny's dismissive tone. He'd just put the car in reverse and had started to roll his way to the main street when he heard the nurse chastise Jenny.
"Now, Ms. Jenny, you know you're not supposed to be walking around here without the wheelchair. What if you fall?"
The rest of what she was saying faded away as Gibbs creaked on, his mind slowly trying to process what he'd just heard. Then like a shroud had been lifted, the all encompassing fury he'd felt toward her faded away, leaving in it's place a dawning realization. Shame gripped him, settling deep in his soul. Gibbs slammed on his brakes, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror at the retreating forms of Jenny being led back inside by her nurse.
Her nurse.
Like a familiar violin, she'd played him. She knew what buttons to push, what strings to yank to make him angry enough to say to hell with it and leave. And it worked. He'd taken one look at her, saw what she wanted him to see, heard only the callousness in her words and was oblivious to everything else. She'd done what she'd set out to do. She'd pushed him away.
And he had let her.
"Fuck!"
Gibbs hit his hand on the steering wheel, his anger directed inwardly now. He considered turning the car around and going back. He wanted to rush to her side and apologize for every horrible thing he'd said until she had no choice but to forgive him. He put the SUV in reverse, intending to go back and do just that. But as his foot touched the gas pedal the words from her letter came to him.
'I'd rather you hate me, than to pity me.'
Gibbs knew that after everything he'd said to her, if he returned right now that was exactly what she would think.
"Fuck," he swore again, only this time more softly. He raised his forefinger and thumb to his eyes, squeezing back the foreign liquid pooling behind them.
Jenny was dying.
And he'd basically just told her to go to hell.
Gibbs sat in a darkened corner of the hotel bar with his back against the wall. His face was set in a petulant scowl, which succeeded in keeping his fellow patrons away. He lifted his glass, watching as an elderly couple peered inside the bar. The man started to enter but the woman pulled him back, her face gathered up into a disapproving frown as she shook her head. The elderly man patted her arm and said words Gibbs was too far away to hear. The woman smiled up at him and caressed his cheek and he leaned down and kissed her forehead before they moved on away from the entrance of the bar.
Immediately his thoughts turned to Jenny. It had been almost a week since the argument. He should have been back in DC by now, but couldn't make himself leave. It felt too much like abandonment. He hadn't been able to force himself to go back out to see her either. Gibbs didn't want to be accused of returning out of pity. Seeing the elderly couple jolted him though, because he knew Jen wouldn't live long enough to grow old with anyone. His scowl deepened. He knocked back the drink, relishing the feel of the liquid as it burned down his throat, and signaled the waitress for another.
"Seems to me, you've had enough, yes?"
Gibbs had been watching the door nearly from the moment he'd sat down in the bar. He hadn't been expecting anyone. It was just easier to stare at it rather than anywhere else. So exactly how he missed Ziva David entering the bar was beyond him. Maybe he have had enough, he thought.
"What are you doing here, Ziva?"
His tone was far from welcoming but it didn't seem to faze her in the least.
"May I?" she asked, indicating the chair across from him.
Gibbs said nothing, which to Ziva was apparently the same as consenting because she pulled out the chair and promptly sat down. His drink arrived and he reached it, knowing he was going to need it and more if his entire team had decided to show up.
"Why you here, Ziva?" He asked again, when it seemed she was content to sit back and watch him watch the door.
She shrugged. "Director Vance is…concerned about you."
Gibbs snorted and shot her a exasperated look. "You can do better than that, Officer David."
"Alright. Director Vance ordered us to find you and bring you back to DC by any means necessary," she stated. "McGee knew your general whereabouts," the sour look on her face made Gibbs wonder how much flack McGee had taken over that. "and the rest was evolution."
Gibbs shot a look of confusion. "Evolution?"
"Yes. Isn't that what Holmes said to Watson? Meaning simple investigative deduction of clues?"
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Elementary, Ziva."
Ziva's frowned. "What does grade school have to do with figuring out clues?"
"It's elementary, not evolution," he explained impatiently.
"Ah," was all she said.
Gibbs' drink arrived and the waitress glanced at her. Ziva shook her head in the negative and the waitress left them alone. Gibbs sipped his drink. "Are you alone."
"Yes," she said with a smirk. "McGee drew the short straw but turned greed at the idea of coming here to bring you back. Tony said he would do it but, well, since you weren't there, someone needed to stay and keep going on the investigation."
"Lucky you, huh?"
"I did not mind. The case is about wrapped up and I could use the break, however small."
Gibbs took a sip of his drink and Ziva shifted uncomfortably in her chair. He said nothing, waiting for her to speak again.
"Have you seen her?"
Gibbs lips thinned. "Yep."
Ziva's eyes brighten expectantly. "And?"
"And what?"
"And how is she?" she asked exasperated
Gibbs took a gulp of his drink and sat the glass down heavily upon the table.
"Gibbs? How is Jenny?"
Gibbs glanced up at the concern in her voice and saw it mirrored in her eyes. He'd forgotten that Jenny and Ziva had been friends before NCIS and she would naturally be worried about her. They'd gotten close, all of them, since then and their close knit unit was more like a family. Jenny's disappearance didn't only affect him, it affected his whole team, not to mention Ducky and Abby.
"I don't know, Ziva," he answered softly.
She looked at him puzzled. "What do you mean, you don't know? You have been here for a week. Have you not seen her, talked to her?"
He reached for his drink again but before he could lift it, her hand snuck out and landed over the top, keeping it firmly on the table.
"Answer me Gibbs. Is Jenny okay?"
He sighed. "I think so."
"What does that mean, you think so? You have been here long enough. Surely, you can give me a better answer than that!"
Gibbs leveled his gaze at her. "Calm yourself, Officer David."
She leaned forward, not flinching from the warning she saw in his eyes.
"Then answer me, Special Agent Gibbs." Her eyes studied his for a moment and then her face fell. She leaned back in her chair. "Oh no, do not tell me she is…"
"No" Gibbs said forcibly. "No, she's not gone." But even as he said the words a small seed of doubt entered his mind. How could he be sure she was still alive? He hadn't been back out to see for himself and hadn't heard anything about her since. He gave himself a mental shake. No, Jen wasn't dead. He would know if she was. He would feel it in his gut.
"I saw her once, when I first got here," Gibbs explained reluctantly. "She wasn't expecting me and we…argued. I haven't been back to see her since."
"You and the Dir…Jenny always argue. It is part of your, "she paused searching for the right word, "chemistry, is it not?"
Gibbs' chuckle was humorless. "Maybe," he conceded. He stared down at the table, picking at the wood as he spoke. "Not this time though. This time it was ugly. The things we said were pretty bad, Ziva."
Gibbs rubbed his hand over his face, his expression bleak. Ziva was no expert on Jenny and Gibbs but she saw them together enough to know how important they were to each other. As she studied the man in front of her, she knew that if they didn't resolve this and something happened to Jenny in the meantime, he would never be the same.
"Did you talk to your friend, Mike Franks, about his conversation with Jenny in that diner? Before the shooting, I mean."
He winced at the mention of the diner and shook his head. "I was to angry at him to hear much of what he was telling me. He said something about regrets. I figured he meant about how the whole situation was handled."
"Actually it was Jenny's regrets that he was referring too."
Gibbs looked at her inquiringly.
"I cornered him before he boarded his plane back to Mexico. I needed to know as much as possible about what had happened for my sake as well as Tony's," she explained sheepishly. "He told me as much as he said he could but he wanted me to relay his conversation with Jenny if I ever thought you needed to hear it. I considered it a strange request at the time and I never gave it another thought. I listened in hopes that it would help me help Tony."
Gibbs heard the wistful note in her voice as she brought up her partner but decided to ignore it. He had enough on his plate as it was. "And you think I need to hear it now?" guessed Gibbs.
"Yes, I do," she confirmed, crossing her arms in front of her. "I never would have figured your Mike Franks as a romantic," she said as she repeated the story he'd told her.
Gibbs and Ziva sat in silence for a long while after she'd stopped talking. Gibbs fingered the rim of his left over drink but didn't touch it, instead he lifted his eyes up to Ziva, his expression determined.
"I'm not going back with you Ziva."
She shrugged. "I did not expect you to."
"What will you tell Vance?" he asked. He didn't really care what she told the Director, but he didn't want her to get into any trouble either.
Ziva smirked. " I will tell him that Holmes was wrong. Finding you was not as…elementary…as we thought."
tbc
