A/N: I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for the break between chapters to be so long! And, ah, so, junior year of high school is a heck of a lot harder than I thought it would be. All of my free time is divided between marching band, homework, and watching my younger sister. I have almost no time to write, which is quite unfortunate. So, I am trying to finish up my stories so that I am not leaving anyone hanging. I'm thinking that after this chapter there will be two more chapters and then an epilogue, and then this story will be completed. And, the explanation about Jen's mom is my own reason, since we never learn about her in the show.
Thank you to all of my reviewers; purplemonkeyz48, itzcheeseball, ncisgirl2389, MissJayne, , Tempe4Booth, Levana Fay, Nicky Reid, and jmarrero16. You guys are all so wonderful! :)
She couldn't stop now.
How could she? She'd spent the latter part of her adult life searching for him, and she'd finally come closer to destroying him. But things were complicated now, just like they had been in Paris, because Jethro was in the picture.
But she needed the Frog. She needed to catch him and she needed to destroy him. Just like he had her. She couldn't let the fact that she was in love get in the way of her revenge.
She was currently in her study, reading file after file, looking for the way in. She'd spent so long on this; she'd spent years looking for a way to bring him down. How could she tear herself away now, even if there was a man only one floor above her?
She set the folder down, wiping at her eyes. The small print in front of her was blurring together, and she sighed, running a hand through her hair. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she groaned. It was two am, and she'd been in her study for four hours now. Jethro was going to kill her when he realized she hadn't been in bed.
She stood, stretching her back. She put the files into a neat stack, tying them together with a rubber band and slipping them into the bottom drawer of her desk, locking them before slipping the key back into the small compartment on the underside of the desk. Taking the coffee mug from the wooden surface, she brought it into the kitchen, rinsing the ceramic cup out before drying it and placing it back in the cabinet. Turning, she grasped the edge of the counter, closing her eyes as a wave of dizziness overtook her. She gasped, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the counter, bending her knees as her head spun. Bile rose in her throat, and she moved to the sink, heaving up the non-existent contents of her stomach.
Standing upright, she winced, her throat burning. She filled a cup with water, swallowing the clear liquid to clear the taste from her mouth. She coughed, clearing her throat before taking two ibuprofen pills from the bottle on the windowsill above the sink, taking them with another sip of water.
Just what I need, she thought, shaking her head. She could not get sick now. Not when she was so close. Taking another gulp of water, she put the cup back in the sink, walking slowly up the stairs. Reaching the bedroom, she opened the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Jethro up. She slipped into bed, completely exhausted, already fighting to keep her eyes open.
Her movement caused Jethro to stir, and he turned to her, cracking one blue eye open.
"Jen, what the hell? It's two am." he said, voice thick with sleep. She groaned, burying her face into the pillow.
"Drop it Jethro. I'm exhausted, and I want sleep." she said, her voice muffled by the material of the pillow. He snorted, letting her snuggle into his arms.
"Yeah, 'cause it's two am Jen." he said, and she brought one hand up, weakly smacking his good shoulder. "Go to sleep."
"Gladly." she muttered, finally letting sleep overtake her.
Gibbs got up the next morning, leaving Jen sleeping. He had no idea why she'd come in so late the night before; he'd left her in her study at ten last night, and she'd said she'd only be another hour, at most. She's stayed for another four hours, not one.
He wished she'd open up to him. God knows he'd opened up enough to her these past two weeks. Since he'd told her about Shannon and Kelly, they'd spent more time talking about their past, their time apart, and where this relationship was going.
But he still knew almost nothing about her family, and he was sick and tired of the secrets. For them to work this time, they couldn't lie to each other; they had to be open and honest.
And she wasn't, at least not entirely.
Walking into the kitchen, he started a pot of coffee, setting out two mugs. He was going to use coercion to get her past out of her, and he knew just what he had to do.
He spent the next hour making breakfast, using the skills he rarely even thought about. He hadn't really cooked for someone since Shannon and Kelly; his wives had handled the cooking, and with Jen, things had been so much simpler. Take-out had been their main sustenance, and she'd never complained. But considering he had time, cooking Jen breakfast seemed simple and easy.
He was just putting her omelet on a plate when she walked into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and groggy. He smiled, offering her one of the mugs of coffee. She accepted it with a smile before raising her eyebrow at the food in his hands.
"I made you breakfast." he said, stating the obvious.
"I can see that. I didn't know you knew how to cook." she said, cradling the warm mug in her palms. He let out a laugh, setting the plate on the table.
"I'm full of surprises." he answered, and she rolled her eyes. They both knew the reason behind his ability, but neither said anything. She took a bite of the omelet, closing her eyes as she sighed.
"You really do know how to cook." she said, and he let out another laugh.
"So I've been told." he said, a hint of sadness crossing his face. She squeezed his hand, and he sent her a small smile. "Want anything else?"
"God no. This is heaven on a plate." she answered, taking another bite. Gibbs nodded, taking a sip of coffee and a bite of toast.
"So what kept you downstairs for so long last night?" he asked conversationally, not expecting her reaction. She froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, her eyes going wide. He frowned, concern filling him. "Jen?"
"Just some files I had to review." she answered, shoving the fork into her mouth.
"Jen, you didn't take any files with you. You said work was at work." Gibbs said, raising an eyebrow. She bit her lip, averting her gaze. "Jen, what's going on?"
"What happened to the man that killed Shannon and Kelly?" she asked, and then it was his turn to freeze. What the hell was she asking for?
"Why do you ask?" he asked, his voice hoarse. She looked up, eyes guarded and her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
"He escaped to Mexico, and they couldn't extradite. I followed him, made sure he paid for what he'd done." Gibbs said, his hands curling into fists on the hardwood table. Jen watched him, tilting her head slightly.
"Jethro…"
"It's in our cold case files, if you're really curious for details." Gibbs said, sounding harsher than he'd intended. Jen nodded, eyes on her coffee cup. Gibbs sighed, reaching over and squeezing her hand. "Jen, it's just a touchy subject."
"I know, I'm sorry for asking." she said quietly. "I just…"
"You just what, Jen?" Gibbs asked when she stopped talking. She looked up, taking a deep breath.
"I was just wondering if you had gone as far as I'm willing to go." Jen answered, and Gibbs frowned.
"Jen, what the hell are you talking about?"
"Jethro, my father was murdered in 95 by an arms dealer named Rene Benoit, otherwise known as La Grenouille." Jen said, her thumb running along the ridge of her coffee mug. "It was deemed a suicide, but that can't be true. My father would never have considered suicide. Not after my mother."
Gibbs listened to her speak, his heart breaking at the sadness in her eyes. He stroked his fingers across the back of her hand, letting her know he was there.
"My mother committed suicide when I was fifteen, after being diagnosed with lupus. The doctors said it was terminal, and all they could do was ease her symptoms. She uh, she overdosed on painkillers. She died the day after my fifteenth birthday." Jen said, clearing her throat. "And before you ask, I've been tested for the disease already. I have some of the risk factors, but so far I do not have the disease, and the doctor's are optimistic that I won't get it."
Gibbs nodded, squeezing her hand again, letting her continue. She took another deep breath, closing her eyes briefly.
"My mother's death tore my father and I apart. My father threw himself into his work, and I threw myself into my schoolwork. I reached the top of my class, and graduated early. I went to Princeton, studying to become a medical researcher. I barely spoke to my father during school, only coming home for major holidays. It's not that I didn't love him, it's just that when he looked at me all he could see was my mother's ghost, and I knew that." Jen said, a faraway look in her eyes. "Two weeks before my twenty seventh birthday, police found his body in his study, a glass of scotch on his desk with an open file and a gun in his lap."
"Jethro, my father would never have committed suicide. He knew what it had done to us the first time, why the hell would he put me through that? I knew he didn't kill himself. I started digging into what he'd been researching at work." Jen said, letting out a sigh. "He'd been looking into a certain arms dealer who was starting to work with Syria and Iraq, who at that point were merely blips on the radar. He'd been close to reaching the center of the organization, and La Grenouille had had him taken out. Jethro, I will find him."
"Jen, I'm not going to stop you, just…please Jen, you need to be careful. These things aren't always simple, and there are consequences." Gibbs said. "You need to be certain of what you're doing, before you do it."
"I'm glad that you care Jethro." Jen said, squeezing his knuckles. She opened her mouth to say something else when an odd look crossed her face, and she sprinted to the sink, retching up her breakfast. Gibbs was close behind, holding back her hair as she threw up. He rubbed her back, and helped her stand when she'd finished. She took a sip of water before turning to him, glaring.
"Jethro, I think you knocked me up."