A/N: Huge chapter this time! Probably the biggest I've ever posted. I'm off to holidays so I can't precise when exactly is going to be the next update. I'll try to post another one before I leave, let's see if I can. Once again, thanks to everyone who has reviewed, added to favourites or simply read this story. And many thanks to my awesome beta-reader, my dear boyfriend. Love you!

"Such a nice guy!" Tony exclaimed sarcastically as he and Ziva reached the car. "Another ten minutes locked up in that office with him and I'd have gone crazy."

"You know my answer to that, don't you?" Ziva replied while opening the driver's door.

"Like you weren't almost beating the crap out of him."

"I wouldn't put it quite like that." She looked for the car key inside her pockets.

Tony fetched his mobile phone while buckling the safety belt. "This thing didn't stop vibrating, who the hell… of course. McPain-in-the-neck again. Check yours too. What the hell…?"

"What's the matter now?"

"Quoting Probie: 'Go straight to the Director's office as soon as you get here."

"Why?"

"Doesn't say. Did you screw anything up, Ziva?"

"What? Why me? You're the one making bets about her and Gibbs."

"But she doesn't know that. Does she? Do you think someone snitched on me?"

"As you say here, little boys who play with fire get their toes burned."

"Actually, it's their fingers."

"Fingers? That's why it didn't make much sense… Well, there's only one way to know. Let's return to D.C.," Ziva looked around. "In fact, I'm quite tired of this base…"

"So am I. But before entering the navy yard, stop by the pizza place around the corner. If I'm going straight into the lion's den, I want to have some slices in me. It's already 1400, by the way."

"Very well." She sped up, turned the car and headed towards the exit.

"DiNozzo and Ziva are on their way, madam," McGee said quietly in the usual darkness of MTAC.

"Thank you, Agent McGee. How long before they arrive?"

"Well, from what I could apprehend, Officer David is the one driving...

"I see. That leaves me with little time on my hands then."

"Do you want me to contact you when they arrive?"

"I hope it won't be necessarily. Thank you very much. You may go now, Agent McGee. Oh, and Cynthia is aware of the meeting, you can go into my office and start preparing everything, if you want to."

"Thank you, madam."

"Can you imagine yourself sitting behind that chair one day, McGee?"

"Be careful, Abby. You're almost tossing those files onto the ground!"

"Oh, sorry!" Abby, walked away from the large desk. "But you've never thought about it before?"

"What?"

"Becoming the Director!"

"Not really, no."

Abby turned on her feet. "I don't believe you!"

"Our noble Timothy is not that ambitious, Abigail," Ducky remarked from the chair where he was seated near the table.

"Everyone has a tiny bit of ambition, Ducky. Everyone," Abby took a seat nearby the doctor. "Even McGee. Otherwise he wouldn't write those books…"

"I prefer to view them as a hobby."

"I'd like to be the Director. For one day. There's something… sexy about it, you know?"

"Sexy, Abigail?"

"Yeah. You know, to sit behind that desk wearing those Chanel suits-"

"You hate suits, Abby."

"Yes, McGee. I do. But this is different. Still, Chanel suits, Loboutin stilettos-"

"And bureaucracy up to your eyeballs," a voice interrupted from the doorway.

Abby turned on her chair. "Gibbs! You've shattered my dream!"

"More like your nightmare. I've been there last year, remember?"

"Our dear Abigail is a fascinating psychological study," Ducky concluded.

"Want to profile me? That'd be fun!"

"Ziva and DiNozzo not here yet?"

"No, Boss," McGee answered while taking a laptop from inside its case and placing it on top of the conference table.

Downstairs, Tony and Ziva were staring at the lift numbers, waiting until it finally reached the ground floor.

"Do I smell of pizza?"

"Huh?"

"Do I smell too much of pizza? I don't think it'll win me any points with the Director!"

"I'm not a damn sniffer dog!"

The lift doors opened and they both stepped inside.

"C'mon, Ziva!"

"No way!" She pressed the lift's button and it started moving up. At her side, Tony was making a last attempt at improving his look by hastily combing his hair with his fingers and straightening his shirt.

"Will you please calm down? It's not like it's the first you're summoned to her office!"

"It's not. But I've got no clue about the reason! McGee was having too much fun not telling what the hell is going on!"

"He's learning."

The lift stopped and the doors opened.

"Cynthia's not here," Tony noted as they passed by her desk. "Let's knock then."

Ziva nodded and raised her hand. The door opened almost immediately, revealing an impatient Gibbs on the other side.

"At last!"

"Boss?"

"What're you waiting for? An invitation?"

"What's happening in here? A party?" Tony asked as he stepped inside and found everyone else in the room.

"You wish, DiNozzo. Team meeting," Gibbs closed the door behind them.

"Here?"

"Yeah."

"Does the Director know we're here or is she going to get mad when she finds out?"

"Don't worry, Anthony. Jethro there has taken care of everything," Ducky intervened.

"So, why are we here in the first place?" Ziva asked, still puzzled.

"To solve the case. I thought McGee had filled you in," Gibbs replied, his sight drifting towards his younger agent.

"No. McProbie over there thought it was funnier to leave us in suspense," Tony's side-glance aimed towards McGee as well.

"I wasn't aware of how confidential the meeting was."

"Yeah, right," Tony took a seat by the table. "Looks highly confidential to me."

"Since they're already here, can we start?" Abby asked.

"Not yet. Director's missing. McGee, go get her."

"Right, Boss." McGee closed the laptop and rose from his chair.

"And bring me some candy from the vending machine on your way back!" Tony was about to recline on his seat when he felt a very well-known pain in the back of the head. "Ouch!"

"Do you think you'll need any more reminders that this is a working meeting, not the coffee break?"

"No, don't bother yourself, Boss. I'm a quick learner."

"Good. And don't make yourself too comfortable, you two will be the first to talk. I want to know what you've found at the base."

"Hum… I'm not sure you'd like the direction the conversation kept veering towards…"

"What do you mean?"

Ziva steepled her fingers as she moved forward on her seat. "Gunnery Sergeant Andersen spent half the interview reminding us that he's going to sue the agency. Well, you, more precisely."

"Is he?" Gibbs asked nonchalantly.

"He intends to. He claims you abused your powers on his interrogation."

Gibbs was about to answer when the sound of high heels was heard outside. McGee opened the door and held it for Jenny to pass.

"Good afternoon," she greeted as she walked up to the tabletop where Ducky was already pulling the chair back for her to sit down. She pretended not to see the doctor's hardened expression. If he wanted to act like this towards her, she would pay him back the same way.

She welcomed the relief as she sat down. So many hours standing up in MTAC had left her quite tired. McGee went back to his seat in front of the laptop and Gibbs sat on the opposite end of the table.

"Hey, this is looking like family dinnertime!" Abby exclaimed. "Mummy and Daddy on the top and the kids-uh!" She was forcibly silenced by a poke from Ziva, who was sitting next to her. "Sorry. I got a bit distracted…" she added while massaging her ribs.

"Shall we start?" Jenny asked, before someone else got distracted again. "Agent Gibbs?"

"Yes. Let's go through what we already know. Three victims, possibly four," Gibbs nodded towards McGee who grabbed the plasma's remote. Immediately, a photo of a smiling woman appeared on it. "Laura Carlson," the photos kept changing as he spoke, "Holly Davidson, Clarice Murphy… and Christine Andersen. Allegedly fifty years passed between what we suppose to be victim number one, Andersen, and victim number two, Carlson. M.O, atropine poisoning. We believe the atropine comes from a lot of old Mark I NAAK kits found tossed aside at the Base. Apart from Andersen, all bodies were dressed-up around time of death in an old-fashion way and dumped in easy-to-spot places all around Quantico Base. There have been also inconsistencies, like the camera going black roughly around the time Clarice Murphy's body was left in the Combat Develop Command Building. Anyone wants to add anything?"

"I do," Ducky said. He fetched his autopsy report and its pictures. "Apart from Christine Andersen, to whom I've not performed the autopsy since when she passed away I was just a young lad finishing my medical studies back in Edinburgh, all victims showed signs of small struggle, telling by the defensive wounds. Death occurred around the same time in all the three victims, between ten o'clock in the evening and midnight."

"I think I should add something too," Abby intervened, now in her most professional tone. "From the blood samples that Ducky supplied me, I could tell they've died from the said atropine poisoning. With the third victim, hum… Murphy, Clarice, I found out that the atropine used wasn't in good conditions and later I found a match when Tony, I mean, Agent DiNozzo, brought me a sample from the Mark I NAAK kits from the Base."

"Let's focus on Christine Andersen," Gibbs spoke as she finished.

"What, again?"

"Did I ask for your opinion, DiNozzo?"

"Hum, no…"

"Thought so. Abby found something today besides everything she already talked about. Abby?"

"Right. McGee, the flasks' photos?"

"A minute, please. Ok, here they are," McGee pressed again the remote control.

"What's that?" Ziva couldn't help but ask as she looked at the plasma.

"That's my greatest finding. Want to know about it? Well, early this morning I was dying from boredom in my lab… Oops, sorry Madame Director!" Abby covered her mouth with her hands as she realised she had been caught. "Not that I don't have enough work to entertain myself with, I was just… Better return to the flasks, no?"

"Yeah, the flasks, please, Abby," Tony asked, a discreet glance towards his watch assuring him they would stay locked in there for a considerable amount of time.

Abby nodded and picked the subject up where she had left it, talking about her earlier findings while waving her hands as usual.

"That's a strong possibility, yes…" Jenny said more to herself when the Goth girl shared her thoughts about the dubious death. "But from what I've seen, it's always the same dead end. If we're to think that Andersen was the first and the recent ones just copies or some sort of twisted homage, who had the motives to kill Andersen in the first place?"

"Brother," Tony blurted out. "What?" he added as everyone stared at him. "He's the only one still alive as far as we know!"

"Is he?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes. We bombed him with all the questions. Parents dead for a long time, but we already knew that, no close family left. And he's still living at the base."

"And his motive?" Jenny moved forward on her chair.

"I'm not sure, but there's no-one else left besides dear brother."

"Have you checked for friends, neighbours?"

"Yes, we did," Ziva answered. "According to her brother, Christine Andersen was a very popular girl. We sent a few names of close friends for McGee to check them up."

"And?"

"Lieutenant Jonathan White, born in 1938, died in Vietnam in 1969, so he's obviously out. Sergeant, nowadays Colonel, Ray O'Donnell, born in 1939, lived in the base until 1997, now retired and living in Florida with wife and grandchildren. Second Lieutenant Hugh Marshall, 1940-1972, Vietnam again. Peter Rosenberg, 1940 according to the driver's licence since he didn't enrol in military life, left the base at eighteen, a year after Christine's death, to pursue his studies. Currently lives in Manassas," McGee's eyes rose from the laptop screen as he finished talking.

"No female friends?"

"Just one, madam. Helen Becket, born in 1941, left the base in 1960 to get married."

"Just that?" Abby asked.

"It was all Gunnery Sergeant Andersen knew. He claims that he never saw her again," Ziva explained.

"Haven't you traced her, McGee?" Gibbs pointed.

"I've tried to. There are 67 Helen Beckets in the tri-state area around that age. But since she got married…"

"We've got no clue if she changed her name or not," Jenny added, more to herself than anyone else in the room.

"She probably did. It was the rule back then, remember?" Ducky remarked. "Pity. A woman's best friend is always a wonderful insight into her personality."

"So, we've got the brother, the guy from Manassas and… I suppose we can add the one in Florida…" Tony summed up. "And the woman."

"Quite a narrow group of suspects," Jenny noticed.

"McGee, run an expanded search on the two living ones for everything you can find. Anything."

"Starting right now, Boss."

"Ziva, go get some coffee. It's going to be a long day."

"Why me?" Ziva stared at her supervisor.

"Someone has to do it."

"Actually, nobody has to leave the room,. All one has to do is phone Cynthia" Jenny said, as she prepared herself to rise up from the chair. But the moment she tried to shift her weight to her legs, they failed her and she lost her balance, landing on the floor if it wasn't for Ducky and DiNozzo to quickly grab her.

"Jen!" she heard Gibbs calling next to her. She hadn't even noticed him rushing towards her from the other side of the room. Supported by Ducky and Tony's firm grip on both of her arms, she tried to stand up, failing miserably again as her numb limbs were incapable of holding her up. And then she realised why.

Shit, the medication!, she recalled as the three men dragged her back to her seat almost as if she was a lifeless doll. The meeting had messed up her schedule and she had completely forgotten to take the medication on time. The sound of Gibbs' voice repeating her name for what seemed to be the third or fourth time brought her back.

"Jen!"

"I'm fine, Jethro," she answered at last. Everyone was staring at her, badly hiding their curiosity. Gibbs had knelt in front of her chair, precaution and discreteness about their relationship totally forgotten.

"Fine? You gotta be kidding me! You'd be lying on that floor if they hadn't grabbed you!"

"I'm fine. It was just… I lost my balance. A bit of dizziness. It's hardly the end of the world." She spotted Ducky's piercing stare firm on her and she eyed him harshly.

"Ducky, would you take a look at her?" Gibbs asked, turning to the doctor.

"I said I'm fine."

"I would, Jethro. But it seems fairly obvious to me that our esteemed Director doesn't want my help."

"Where were we?" Jenny cut through.

"What?" Gibbs turned back to her, rising to his feet.

"Where were we? The case."

"Huh… you were going to order some coffee. Madam," Tony replied, feeling quite silly.

"I said the case, Agent DiNozzo."

"Peter Rosenberg, Colonel O'Donnell and Helen Becket, " Ziva answered hastily.

"Yes. I suppose the logical move would be talking to them. To Rosenberg at least, since the Colonel is a bit too far and the woman's whereabouts are unknown."

"Now, madam?" was McGee's turn to ask, but a killing look from Gibbs made him correct himself. "I mean… now, Boss?"

"DiNozzo, Ziva, go to Manassas and interview Rosenberg. McGee, try everything to find out where Helen Becket is."

"On our way, Boss." Tony, Ziva and McGee all rose from their chairs.

"Go with them, Jethro." Jenny heard herself sounding even sterner than she had meant to.

"They don't need me by their side to ask some questions."

"It was an order, Agent Gibbs."

"I'm well-known for disobeying orders." Despite his concern, her harsh manner was starting to irritate him. The last thing he wanted now was to leave her side.

"Special Agent Gibbs."

"You may go, Jethro," Ducky intervened. "I'll stay here."

Gibbs' glance moved towards the old doctor whose in-control presence calmed him down a bit, although his preoccupation with his lover and their child was the only thing on his mind now. "I appreciate it, Ducky, but I think I ought to stay here as well."

"Er, if someone needs me, I'll be in my lab, right?" said an anxious-to-get-out-of-there Abby. Her presence had been completely forgotten by the rest of the occupants in the room. Without even waiting for an answer, she ran to the door.

"Jethro, I want this case closed. A week has already passed and it'll start leaking to the press in a short time and I don't want the agency's name dragged through the mud, so go with your team and solve it."

"Fine, Director," he spat her title as he used to every time they clashed with each other. "If that's what you wish…"

"It is," she said, just in time to see a very pissed off Gibbs crossing her office and almost banging the door off its hinges. She couldn't help but shut her eyes and sigh. It was not easy to her either.

"Will you fetch me my handbag, Ducky? I doubt I can trust myself to get it."

"Pills won't do much for you at this moment."

"I don't have exactly much of a choice, do I?"

"Why did you forget to take it?"

"Too much work and changes of plans."

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Extremely tired. Weak. All the textbook symptoms."

"Pills will take a while to have any effect. I'll give you a shot of corticosteroids instead. I'll be back in a minute."

Jenny just nodded in response. As he left the office, she dropped the hardened look she had adopted the moment she collapsed. For a moment, she thought about how it would it be if she didn't have to carry the burden all by herself. To have the support and care of her lover and friends. Not that many of them left, though. Her work and her ambition had seen to it. Despite knowing Ziva for years and working alongside her in the most dangerous situations, they had sort of grown apart after coming to D.C. DiNozzo... they had enjoyed some playful banter, mainly during brief Gibbs retiring, but after the Jeanne Benoît affair, she couldn't blame him for not trusting her anymore. And McGee… McGee respected her as the Director, nothing more. Ducky; they had been friends. She wasn't sure if they still were.

And then there was Jethro. Who was now really enraged with her. But she had been left with no other choice than push him aside. More than ever, she had wanted to accept his concern. More than ever she had wanted to throw everything out the window and tell him. Let him take care of her. Assure her that everything was going to be alright despite both knowing it was a lie. For the first time in her life, she wanted to rely on someone else.

A knock at the door brought her back from her maudlin thoughts. It was certainly Ducky. "Come in."

The Scottish doctor appeared in the doorway, carrying his medical kit. "Back. Feeling worse?"

"Just the same fatigue."

Ducky dropped the kit on the conference table and took his seat next to her. "Has it been worse lately?"

She shrugged, quickly regretting it as her fragile body protested. "A bit, I suppose. Not unusual with what I do for a living."

"I hope you're aware that the pregnancy can aggravate all the Polymyositis symptoms," Ducky took a small, round flask from the kit and then a packed syringe.

"I know. And I can handle it with the medication. Today was a silly mistake."

"What about the birth? You think you'll find a way to… handle it as well?" Ducky said while discarding the syringe from the package, piercing the flask's rubber top, deliberately not facing the woman in front of him. "Such a huge effort may kill you, Jennifer. Even with a caesarean section."

"Better than waiting for the day my lungs decide to collapse, no? Or better yet, my heart."

He confirmed that no air had been left in the syringe and then turned to her. "I'll have to give it straight on your thigh."

"Fine." Her hands went for the hem of her skirt, pulling it upwards and lowering one of her stockings.

"Try not to contract. I'll apply it directly in the muscles." Ducky cleaned the area on her thigh with a piece of cotton.

Jenny shivered lightly as the cold cotton came in contact with her skin. The needle pierced the soft surface of her thigh.

"Done. Now wait a few minutes before trying to stand up again." The doctor removed the now empty syringe, wrapping the discarded cotton around the needle. "And just take the vitamins and the supplements today. Resume the corticosteroid tablets tomorrow as normal."

"Ok. Ducky?"

"Yes?"

"I don't remember signing any authorisation to buy corticosteroids. In fact, although I'm not an expert on the matter, I can't think of any use for it in the autopsy room."

"A friend of mine who owned me a few favours supplied me. I thought it would be good to have a bit at hand."

"Because of me?"

"Yes. As you pointed, there's no use for steroids in an autopsy."

"I think I should… thank you, then."

"There's no need to."

"I insist."

Still sitting, she tried to stretch her legs and was relieved to feel the liberty of movements slowly coming back.

"What're you going to tell Jethro?"

"That it was just dizziness. Not exactly unheard of in pregnant women."

"I suppose I'll have to… play along then?"

"You don't have to. I wouldn't ask you to."

"I prefer to step aside, then."

"Yes. I understand. Can I try to stand up already?"

"Let's give it a try. But lose the heels. Those things won't do you any good. Here, take my hand."

She grabbed it, her grip not so gentle when she realised the amount of strength that she would need. Her other hand went for the table edge and her now bare feet sank on the carpet. With a last pull from Ducky, she managed to finally rise from the chair.

"Careful, careful…" he said, as she wobbled. "Don't overdo it."

"I'm fine," she answered, attempting a few steps and feeling like a trembling toddler.

"May I trust you to stay here in your office, resting and recovering?"

The patronising tone did little good to her nerves. "I've got work to do."

"As long as it is behind that desk over there and not all over the building. MTAC included. At least for a couple of hours."

"How many?"

"Two, just to be on the safe side. I don't need to remind you that a fall on your current state can be very dangerous and not just for you."

"I know."

"Call me if you need something. I'll be downstairs."

"Right. Thank you."

Ducky nodded in response and grabbed his medical kit, making sure he wasn't leaving anything behind. With a last experienced look, he assure himself that she was alright and then headed to the door.

When the doorknob clicked she finally found herself alone. She had been longing for that. To be in control again.

Still firmly supported by the desk, she walked around it and sat on her large chair. The familiarity of that simple gesture soothed her. Like she was coming back to herself again, after everything that had happened. A simple mistake had threatened to ruin everything. Although she must have been used to it by now; usually her mistakes tended to reach large proportions.

She had the team, and especially Gibbs, to deal with later. The former wouldn't require much from her. A quick remark later on the evening just in a way of courtesy. But with Jethro… she would better prepare herself for a shouting match and a troubled night. Not exactly what she needed after that afternoon.

Until then, her disease had just manifested itself in the overwhelming fatigue she had been feeling for a while. Despite knowing the clock was ticking, the collapse had scared her, making her feel vulnerable and powerless. She wasn't used to either.

She took a look at her desk. She would have to get Gibbs and their upcoming argument out of her head if she wanted to get any work done before they arrived. Now that she has been included into the investigation, there was no way she wouldn't be involved until the end. The field agent in her was having a feast. That was definitely a welcome distraction.

P.S.: About Jenny' disease, I took the creatine kinesa tip from the show, ran a search on it and picked up the illness I thought suited this story best.

Reviews are appreciated!