Jethro leaned back in his chair, chuckling to himself as he listened to the Mexican dance folk music play. He should have known better. Mike Franks had played him.
He glanced to the catwalk when he heard a door, seeing the redheaded Director emerge from MTAC and head towards her office. Mike's reaction to seeing her earlier echoed in his ears.
"Ooh-rah, Gunny."
He didn't like the idea of Mike eyeing Jenny at all, and he didn't like that Mike knew so much about what had happened between them. At the same time, he knew Jenny deserved that kind of reaction from a man.
It wasn't long after Mike had to spar with Jenny a bit in order to keep Puchenko in custody that he was downplaying her abilities.
"This director, she's okay, I guess, but I get the feelin' that you've been workin' under her a little too long," Mike had said.
"The world's changin', Mike," Jethro had immediately bristled.
He couldn't help but defend her. He may have been determined to distance himself from her—be cold even—but he wasn't going to let anyone else step on her toes without good reason. Not even Mike.
"All the lines are gettin' blurred, probie. Hard for a man not to step over them."
He knew Mike had been talking about more than the case and more than a female director at that point. He was scoffing at Jethro's past personal involvement with her, thinking it was brainwashing him.
He didn't give a damn if she was his boss, not to mention female. He didn't give a damn if they had slept together more times than they could count. He didn't give a damn that they'd made that mistake again a few weeks ago in a moment of weakness. He may give her crap, but she was damn good at her job.
He thought about how Tony had called her "Jenny" earlier. How it was said it in a way that was too intimate, too knowing. He'd gotten instantly jealous, instantly irritated. He worried that the young agent had stepped on his turf while he was gone.
"Just, uh...how cozy did you two get while I was away?" he had asked.
Tony had gotten nervous and immediately dodged the question. He'd had to leave after that, because he realized he needed to take a breath in order to not hurt DiNozzo.
All of this was unnerving him. It unnerved him that he couldn't stop caring about her. It unnerved him that he still got jealous at the thought of her having any other options. It unnerved him that he would still instinctively defend her and want to fight for her. He had no right to feel that way. She had no right to make him feel that way.
They were a thing of the past. They weren't together, even after one night of nostalgic indulgence. They had no right to be together, not after everything that had happened. They deserved not to get hurt again. That meant moving on.
Fact is, no matter how hard he'd been trying, no matter how much he distanced himself or tried to hate her, he just couldn't stop caring.
He closed his eyes, letting the music drown out his thoughts. He really needed to stop thinking about her if he wanted a chance to not care.
"Jethro."
She sure didn't make it easy.
"Director," he muttered, keeping his eyes closed as he tried to continue relaxing.
She glared at him for the way he addressed her. Glared at the way he was just sitting there, not even bothering to look at her when he talked to her.
"Did Franks go back to Mexico, or is he staying with you?" she asked.
"Why?"
She rolled her eyes.
"I'd like to know if I'm going to be dealing with him further, or if I can relax knowing he isn't around to cause trouble."
He smirked. "He went back."
"I see where you got some of it from," she commented.
"Got some of what from?"
"Your skills, your methods, some of your habits and rules. The inspiration for your new mustache."
He finally opened his eyes and leaned up from his chair to glare at her. If he heard one more comment about his mustache…
"If it's any consolation; I know I've given you grief about being a chauvinist in the past, but you are nowhere near as bad as him."
He snorted, a smile tugging on his lips.
"When you were in that coma"—she swallowed as the memories resurfaced, seeing his body tense as he stared uncertainly at her—"I called Franks, to see if he could help you remember. He laughed so hard when he found out I was Director, and he couldn't take me seriously…he nearly hung up. It was when I mentioned your name that he changed his tune. He was on the next flight out when I told him what happened. He really cares about you."
Jethro nodded, processing what she said. He cared for Mike too. He hadn't even thought about the small details that would have gone into Mike visiting him. He felt grateful that she'd gone the extra mile to help him.
"Even though he and I may not see eye to eye on things, even though he doesn't respect me in my position just because I'm a woman, I can see why you like him. I can see how you were trained so well. He's sharp. The mere fact that he respects you so much is enough to tell me he's a good man. Even if he is an arrogant, chauvinistic bastard."
He laughed and nodded again, his eyes drawn to her lips and those green eyes of hers as she smiled back at him.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
She smiled and gave a nod, feeling rather affected by that laugh of his. She was hit sharply by the nagging doubts that had been plaguing her the last few days as she stared at him.
"Goodnight, Jethro," she said, turning to walk to the elevator. She heard the barely audible, "Night, Jen" as she walked.
As the elevator shut around her she closed her eyes, thinking about the two boxes that were left unopened in her bathroom. The nagging doubts she had been having convinced her in a moment of insanity to purchase them. Two pregnancy tests. She didn't think she was pregnant. In fact, she refused to be pregnant.
She'd been experiencing what she had assumed were just her usual premenstrual symptoms, ever since Jethro had come back to work. Lower back aches, breast tenderness, slightly heightened emotions. Except her period never came, and then she realized she was a few weeks late. She also was experiencing the occasional headache and nausea, both of which weren't usual for her. She'd brushed it off as a missed period and that she was just sick instead. It wasn't unusual for her to skip a period, her job stress had impacted it before.
Then she realized she really wasn't sick, and the symptoms were just increasing in intensity as the days went by. She felt different, and she knew something wasn't…normal. When the idea that she could be pregnant hit her, she had laughed. She was pushing 40 years old, and she'd never had any issues with her birth control before. Considering how reckless she and Jethro were in Europe, she honestly had wondered if she could be infertile. Though, she was much more strict about her birth control back then.
But now she was a lot more careless when it came to the pill. She didn't have time for sex. She didn't have time for any boyfriends or commitment in her position, and she knew better than to go to the bar to scratch an itch. She'd been involved in far too many cases that proved why that was not only reckless, but downright suicidal. Their little fling a month ago definitely didn't involve any protection—it had been a heat of the moment incident.
The pregnancy tests had been sitting in her bathroom for a week, and considering nothing had still happened to prove that she wasn't, she knew she would need to face them.
She determined she would finally get it over with tonight.
If she was pregnant—which she wasn't—she would need to know.
When she got home she walked to the bathroom and opened the cupboard, taking out both of the boxes—just to be sure—and read the instructions. She ripped them open and pulled the tests out. She stared at the sticks for a good two minutes, feeling the urge to just toss them in the garbage and move on with her life.
Except, she realized, if she was—which she really wasn't—she couldn't just move on from it. It wasn't something she could just ignore. At least, not for long.
"Don't be a coward, Shepard," she muttered to herself.
She took a breath before proceeding to walk to the toilet and pull her pants down, doing exactly what the boxes instructed.
She looked at each test when she was done, feeling anxiety hit her full on. She put them down on the edge of the bathtub and sat down beside them, holding her knees to her chest as she tried to breathe. She looked at her watch, surprised that only twenty seconds had passed.
She stood up, realizing she couldn't just sit still. She walked to the bathroom door and opened it, pacing into the hall with her arms folded. She walked from one end of the hall to the other, glancing at her watch every once in a while. It felt like the longest three minutes of her life.
She took another deep breath when the time had come, wandering back into the bathroom uncertainly. She paused at the doorway, staring at the two different sticks sitting feet away. She steeled herself, walking over and picking one up, staring at it determinedly.
Double lines…
She looked to the right, where the stick showed that double lines meant pregnant. She looked back to the result, not believing it.
"No," she muttered. "No, no, no..."
She felt her panic shoot so high she wasn't sure she could breathe. She shook her head, refusing to believe it, tossing the test into the trash. It had to be a false positive.
She glared down at the other test, hoping to glare it into submission before she picked it up. When she did finally pick it up and see the result, her stomach turned at the sight of a plus sign.
She felt like the world paused and zoomed in on her as she stared at the test, taking in that damn plus sign. She never thought she'd have this moment in her life, and it felt like some sick joke. This wasn't supposed to be happening. It couldn't happen. She couldn't allow this.
She tossed the test in the trash angrily, glaring at herself in the mirror. She turned around, letting her lower back hit the sink, trying to take in what felt like a rather harsh reality. All of the thoughts catapulted towards her at once…her job, Jethro, her status, Jethro, what people would think, Jethro, a baby…
She couldn't help the sting of tears in her eyes as she processed. It was brutally unfair. Surely it wasn't true. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, eyes scrunching closed as she tried to figure things out. She truly couldn't afford for this to be happening in her life. She didn't even know where to begin, or what to do…
A tear escaped down her cheek as her thoughts closed in on her. She let out a panicked breath and lowered herself down onto the floor, squeezing herself a little harder as she tried to ground herself.
She stayed there on the floor, arms wrapped around herself and tears slipping down her cheeks, lost in her panic for what felt like an eternity.
Her main problem was, she didn't know where to take things from here. It had been a solid week since she'd found out, and she couldn't seem to decide what to do. She spent days agonizing over if she should tell Jethro. They had sex, and now she was pregnant as a result. It seemed only fair that he know. On the other hand, if she didn't go through with the pregnancy, there really was no need for him to know.
She'd gone to the doctor, where they confirmed that she was pregnant. They estimated she was around seven weeks pregnant. She knew exactly when she'd conceived, she didn't need an estimate, it had been five weeks since she'd had sex with Jethro. They explained that two weeks were always added onto a pregnancy, based on the woman's last missed period. It was one of those things that made her roll her eyes a little. Humans sometimes had to make things more confusing than they needed to be.
She'd asked about her options for not keeping the pregnancy, which had rapidly shifted the mood of the whole ordeal. It had gone from 'You're pregnant, congratulations, let's make an appointment for your next prenatal visit,' to a more somber 'Here's some pamphlets, you need to read over these carefully. You have to be sure. Here's the risks involved, and we recommend you do further research and think about it before you make a decision.' They also recommended she think about adoption as well.
She didn't want a baby. She didn't want to be pregnant. She didn't want to give birth. She didn't have time to raise a kid.
On the one hand, she couldn't envision having a child—having her and Jethro's child—only to have it live with some other family. It just seemed weird, knowing the result of her and Jethro would be out in the world living a life without any involvement from them. And it wasn't like she wasn't financially capable of taking care of it.
On the other hand, she couldn't quite stomach the idea of permanently ridding the evidence of her and Jethro's passion. To be honest, anytime she thought about the procedure, she felt almost sick. It was so final. She told her self it was her body and it was her right to make that decision, but she wasn't sure she actually believed that.
She hadn't been able to decide for days after she'd found out. Hell, she wasn't sure she could even still comprehend that it was a reality. Every night when she climbed into bed, no matter how tired she was, it took her forever to drift off to sleep due to all her constant thoughts. And then when she did sleep, her dreams seemed to still be haunted by it all. She spent so much of her free time googling pregnancy, abortion, and adoption articles, reading so many perspectives and studies to see if it would help her make a decision. She'd been in complete and utter turmoil.
She was trying to lose herself in work to distract herself, which wasn't working. She had been avoiding Jethro like the plague, and only talked work with him when she absolutely had to. She could hardly stand to look at him. She was angry with him. She was angry with herself. She felt guilty at the same time. She couldn't figure out how to tell him or if she even should, because she still hadn't decided what she was going to do.
Not that it mattered, because he certainly wasn't making it a point to talk to her either, which was somehow more irritating than anything else.
All of it was utterly exhausting. She felt overwhelmed.
She felt deep down that Jethro had the right to know, but she didn't know how to go about that. She knew if she told him, adoption or abortion wouldn't be acceptable to him as options. She used that as an excuse to not tell him, because she didn't want to be locked in. This was her decision to make.
At the same time, she wasn't sure she could face him again if she had an abortion. Knowing that he'd never known, never had any input. His past and knowing he had a kid before made it all so much more horrible to think about. She knew if she had an abortion and he found out, he'd never forgive her.
When she thought about that…she just knew she couldn't do it. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to face him again, knowing what she did, knowing that he had no clue because she never allowed him any input. She knew he would never forgive her if he ever found out.
She couldn't do adoption. She couldn't be pregnant for nine months and have a baby just to give it away. It felt too weird. She would have to move or go into hiding for nine months in order to pull it off. She couldn't just be pregnant at work all that time, with Jethro right there, and just ignore that it was his. She also knew it would damage her image more than anything else. Everyone would know she was pregnant, she'd still feel shame and judgment, it would still impact her job—and then when she suddenly didn't have a baby after, everyone would judge her for not raising it herself when she was perfectly stable enough to do it. She'd have to lie to Jethro and act like it was someone other guy's…and she knew that would hurt him. She knew he'd never look at her the same way again. She wouldn't be able to do it. It was unfair to him, and he'd have to know.
Without those two options, it left her with one other option: have the baby and raise it. Which also meant she needed to tell Jethro. Which also meant things would become a hell of a lot more complicated.
But she still didn't want a baby.
Which is why she didn't know where to take things from here, why she didn't know what to do. She had three options, and not a single one of them she was okay with.
Jethro came into MTAC and put on a headset.
"We'll continue to monitor these activities. Just do your best," she instructed through her headset, wanting to shut off the mission going on now that Jethro was here. She wanted to get what he was here for over with as quickly as possible. She already felt tense just having him beside her.
At least the man had shaved off that godforsaken mustache. He'd even kept his longer hair…the combination of which made him intoxicating to look at. Everyone kept talking about how he was back to his old self. She wondered if it would stay that way when she finally had the guts to tell him what was going on. Would he have another mid-life crisis? Would he take off again? Would he grow another hideous mustache and maybe shave his entire head on top of that? She almost snorted at that image.
"Mission trouble?" he asked.
"It's need-to-know. Initiate the video conference Special Agent Gibbs requested." She turned to him and changed the subject to his case. "Have you figured out why somebody would unbury a body?"
"That's need-to-know," he snarked.
"You can't pull that one with me, Jethro. I'm your boss."
Not even just boss, she thought. The woman who, unbeknownst to him, was carrying his spawn.
"Iraq standing by, ma'am," one of the techs said.
The man came onto the screen and Jethro and him talked while Jenny observed. They were done within a minute and the screen cut out.
"Two fiancees..." she mused. "That a marine thing?"
"Oh, that's need-to-know, too, Director," he quipped, a wide smirk on his face as he turned to leave.
She smiled tensely, feeling the secret eating away at her, knowing she needed to tell the arrogant idiot.
The case was bothering him. He didn't understand it.
That was when he found himself realizing there was only one person he could talk to, that he could bounce his thoughts off of who could probably help him out. They had barely been talking since he got back. He got the feeling she was avoiding him. He wasn't doing anything to remedy it, because he was avoiding her too.
The most kind of conversation they'd even had up to this point was when he was in MTAC earlier today, and they'd both avoided each others questions with the need-to-know excuse. He couldn't help but give her a hard time. It was weird that he used to be her boss, telling her everything and knowing more than she did, and now she was someone who knew much more about what was going on than he ever would.
There was something off about her lately. He could sense how nervous she got around him. He kept thinking about their conversation in his basement a few weeks ago. The way she said, "No, I don't" so confidently. One minute she's saying she misses him and they had great sex—the next minute she's insisting she doesn't want him back. He was confused by all of it. Hurt. He understood she was concerned about him coming back, but still, he felt like she should have more faith in him.
On the other hand, she had been the one to finally get him to come back. He had been getting miserable in Mexico. It had been boring as hell, and left him with his thoughts constantly. He also didn't blame her for being angry that he left his team. He had never quite forgiven Mike for leaving the way he did, and he ended up doing the same exact thing to his team. He owed them more than that. He decided he would hold to his promise to her, he would never abandon his team again.
He headed up the stairs and into her office, bursting through the door as usual.
"Give me a second. I just have to finish this e-mail to Kofi Annan," she said, not looking at him.
"Kofi can wait," he said, glancing at her computer.
She took off her glasses impatiently and turned to face him, failing to hide the mirth on her face. She was trying to remember the last time she saw him in her office.
"What is it, Jethro?"
"The Finn case."
"Yes?"
He stared and then turned away, pacing in front of her desk.
"You're lost on this one?" she asked, brimming with amusement.
"Puzzled," he growled. "They barely knew Finn, yet they let him move in, loaned him money."
"They trusted a man who took advantage of them," she stated. "If you're in a relationship and the other person is keeping secrets, how would you know?"
She felt a pang of guilt, the big secret she was keeping from him going off like an alarm in her head. She reasoned that it wasn't the same, because they weren't in a relationship. That ship had passed years ago.
"You'd know," he said, thinking about the secrets he could feel his wives keeping from him in the past.
"I didn't."
He was taken aback, suddenly wondering if she was in some relationship.
"Who lied to you?" he questioned.
"You did."
He bristled, wondering what the hell she was talking about. She was the one who left him after secretly taking some other job.
"Not exactly lied, but you just didn't tell me the whole truth either."
He glared, leaning forward and putting his hands on her desk. "You're comparing me to Finn?" he snapped.
"I'm just saying that you can be involved with someone without fully knowing them. How could you not tell me about your family?"
She knew it was a mistake to bring it up the second it came out of her lips. It had been weighing heavily on her mind the past couple of weeks, and she hadn't been able to shake off that he'd kept something so huge from her. It at least made her feel less guilty about keeping a big secret from him.
He felt his stomach drop at the mention of his family. It wasn't something he could discuss with her—not now, not back then—it was too personal.
"Finish your e-mail," he snarled, turning away and grabbing the door handle forcefully.
"You wanted my advice," she shot out before he escaped, making him stop in the door.
He tried to reign in his anger as he walked back from the door, glaring at her hard.
"Just don't be too hard on the fiancées. Finn duped them," she advised. "And I shouldn't have brought up the past. I know you had your reasons for not wanting to talk about it."
He grabbed the door and slammed it shut, preparing for a fallout and not wanting anyone else to hear. He felt himself pulsing with irritation. She'd been driving him mad since he got back. He wanted her and he couldn't stand her at the same time. He felt so confused and angry and hurt, with her and with himself.
"We're talkin' about it now," he flung out.
"Now is not Paris," she shot back.
"Your priorities were clear on Paris," he snapped, thinking of how many times she had shot down their past after she'd gotten back.
"I had a job to do in Europe."
"If I had told you about my first wife, would it have made a difference?"
He genuinely wanted to know. Would that have prevented her from leaving? Or would she have taken off even sooner?
She hesitated. She'd asked herself that question many times since she'd found out. She felt like it would have. She would have understood why he distanced himself at times, and why he couldn't say "I love you" back. She wouldn't have left in a scared panic thinking that he really didn't love her like she loved him.
"We'll never know, will we?"
He felt his last shred of patience evaporate and he took his frustration out on the door as he turned and left. He was questioning now why he spent so much time in Mexico thinking about her and wanting her. He was questioning why he let her smell and her touch get the best of him and sleep with her again weeks ago. He was questioning why he couldn't let go.
It was then that he decided he had to stop caring, because he didn't want to deal with the hurt or the confusion anymore. She was the reason he created Rule 12, and she was the reason he was going to stick to it now. She was no longer an option, he was going to move on for good this time.
Jenny lay in bed, realizing it was going to be another restless night.
She couldn't stop thinking about the conversation with Jethro in her office earlier.
"Would it have made a difference?"
Surely it would have. She couldn't even begin to comprehend all the changes it could have made. There were so many different routes they could have taken.
Or perhaps it would be exactly the same as it was now.
It didn't matter. There was something huge that was going to make a difference now, whether they liked it or not. No matter the decision she made, it would forever have an impact on her. She had no choice but to be impacted. It would forever be a mark on their relationship, even if he never knew. But no matter the decision, she would be the one who knew. She would be the one forever changed and never able to look at him the same way. He would no longer just be the man that she loved and had a complicated history with. He would be the man who also had impregnated her. The man whose baby she had harbored in her body for however much time.
"If you're in a relationship and the other person is keeping secrets, how would you know?"
"You'd know."
"I didn't."
Now she was the one keeping secrets. He was the one who didn't know. And this secret, this was one she knew deep down he deserved to know. It felt wrong not telling him, no matter what she wanted to do. This was something literally life altering. It would make a huge difference, emotionally and mentally.
She wanted to erase all of this. She wanted to move on and take it all back. She wanted to go back in time and not let herself go over to his house to say goodbye. She wanted to move on and go back to what things were like before.
No matter what she did now…emotionally, there was no moving on from him. Not anymore.