A/N: Look! Quick update! 8D I had to get it down.. before I forgot it. Sorry, I know I said shorter chapters, Marzia, dear... But I think you'll forgive me, one day. I don't know if you guys will like this update.. But..
Anyway. This is angsty, and it may he OOC, but this is also an AU story. This is not the same hard-ass Jenny as we know from the show, because she's never been a field agent. I tried to keep it realistic to the situation. Review, please? Pretty please? =]]]]
Jennifer Shepard stared herself in the eyes in the rear view mirror, slowing her breath, calming herself. This was something she had to do, not only for herself, but for Danny, and for Leena. Her little girl was too young to understand now and she wasn't particularly sure she'd end up telling her when she could, but this was for her future. It was for Gibbs, too – in a way; how could she love a man properly while she was still not at peace with another? To admit to herself that she'd fallen for him was too much at the moment; she need not add more turmoil to her already-chaotic mind. She blotted her lipstick before stepping out of the car, her eyes flickering up and down the street before she crossed it. Her high heels clicked steadily on the concrete as she walked, head down, collar of her jacket turned up. The still-distant thunder set her nerves even more on edge and canceled out anything she'd done in the car to relax. She pursed her lips as she glanced at the addresses on the buildings, stopping dead in her tracks as she found what she was looking for. After a few more minutes of standing outside, she walked up the steps and turned the knob of the front door, stepping inside warily.
Her heels clicked against the hardwood of the hallway as she moved toward the faint light from the last door on the left. Jenny paused in the doorway, staring a hole into the back of her host. His low laughter made her nauseous, made her eyes narrow and her stance straighter, more rigid. He turned around after he refilled his glass with cognac, tilted his chin upwards as his eyes flickered over her casually. Her jaw tightened uncomfortably.
"Please," he said, his accent heavy. "Make yourself at home, Jenny."
Slowly, almost reluctantly, she removed her trench coat, crossing her arms casually. She felt the cold steel pressing against the bare skin of her arm, sending a shiver up her spine. Jen stepped closer, shaking her head silently when he offered her a drink. Her shoulders were tense, eyes guarded. As if she expected some reprimand from La Grenouille.
"Why so rigid, ma chérie?" he questioned as he sat down, inviting her to do so as well, which she, again, refused. "Ahh.. Well, I assume this is a business matter, then." His intense eyes studied her still, calculating her every move, analyzing. She tilted her chin upwards, much like he had earlier. Looking down upon him.
"I came here to tell you that I don't want you or any of your... employees to visit me any more," she said softly, and yet still forcefully.
Benoit chuckled, the sound echoing in his large den. "Though I'm sure that took quite a bit of gall," he drawled. "I'm afraid that it's not that simple."
"Why not?" she snapped. "I don't want your money anymore, René! Why can you not leave Leena and I alone?"
"Consider yourself a loose end." he stated simply, his tone flat. She turned from him, lifting a hand to her mouth, trying not to notice the shake in it. Jen heard her heartbeat all too clearly inside her head; her mind whirled and tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes for the briefest moment.
Then she turned around and clicked the safety off the gun, raising it to his chest. Her hands still shook minutely, making him raise his brow and chuckle again.
"Surely you're not this stupid, Jenny." She felt bile rise in her throat and swallowed it down, along with her nerves. No one was here to aid him, she was sure of that, and he wasn't stupid enough to go for a gun while she was so nervous. Odds were in her favor at the moment.
Getting away with it? She wasn't so sure about.
"Put the gun down, Jenny." he said, patronizingly. "You won't shoot me."
When she didn't move – other than her shaking – or say anything for a long moment, he made to get up, which made her panic. Her finger tightened reflexively on the trigger and she staggered backwards from the force of it, unaccustomed to such things. Jen was shocked, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as she stared forward. Her entire body started to shake as she realized what she'd done.
She'd killed La Grenouille.
It was impossible to tell how long she stood there, paralyzed. Her eyes were locked on the blood, watching it spread all over the front of his shirt, until she heard it start to slowly – but steadily – drip onto the hardwood. Finally snapping out of it, she stared at the gun in her hands and whimpered aloud, backing out of the den and grabbing her trench coat as she ran down the hall and out the front door again.
Anywhere was better than there, where the metallic scent of blood lingered, foreboding, in the air.
The rain had completely soaked through her once-pristine dress, and though she was shivering, she didn't notice. She simply continued stared down at the gun in her hands disbelievingly. She.. had just.. killed someone? Maybe that was what she'd set out to do, but she'd hardly expected to follow through with it. Jen thought that maybe the gun would scare him into leaving her alone, in aiding her in getting what she wanted. She'd never accounted for her nerves getting the better of her. She'd never thought...
"Jen!" A car door slammed, quick footsteps pounded on the asphalt until they stopped before her. She glanced up slowly after a moment, the rain dripping down her face giving her an excuse for her ruined makeup. Perhaps he couldn't tell she'd been crying, because of the rain. Almost immediately, she felt the gun snatched from her hands and heard him click the magazine loose, stuffing it into his belt before he knelt before her.
Gibbs slid a hand up into her hair, his eyes flickering over her face worriedly as he brushed it back. Nerves still shot, she managed to whisper hoarsely: "Where's Leena?"
"Safe," he assured, but he could tell that that wasn't enough. "She's at McGee's apartment," he said softly, then clarified. "He's on my team, Jen. She's safe."
Nodding slowly, she limply wrapped her arms around his neck, relishing in his familiar presence. She sniffed after a moment and nuzzled further into him, fighting back another round of tears. "Take me home." Her voice broke, and she bit her lip hard to keep the tears at bay. "P... please."
Silently, he got to his feet and helped her to hers, before he swiped her up easily, not giving her a chance to protest. Frankly, she didn't trust her legs – especially not in heels – to carry her the twenty or so feet to the car. So she accepted his gesture, because he was stronger than she was. At least for the moment.