Jenny gasped as she crouched over the toilet, having just emptied the contents of her lunch.

"Oh, no," she moaned, feeling the hot gurgle in her stomach again. She gripped the side of the toilet, heaving again.

By the stupid extra two week calculation doctors did, she was in her 8th week of pregnancy. She hadn't had many issues with nausea before now, but it was starting to flare the last few days. She couldn't remember the last time she had puked before now. Apparently her body had been intent on changing that today. It wasn't just the nausea that made her puke, it was the heightened sense of smell combined with the nausea that had caused this incident.

She was in California the last few days for meetings she had to attend and she was staying in a nice hotel. Unfortunately, someone seemed to have thrown something vile away in the garbage by the elevator. She'd already felt a little nauseous after finishing her lunch, but the smell triggered her body into vomit mode. She'd barely made it into her room and into the bathroom in time. The other symptoms that had been bothering her were her sore breasts and her constant fatigue.

She still hadn't told Jethro, and for that reason alone she had been extremely glad to get out of the state for five days. After weeks of agonizing and sleepless nights, she had decided to keep the pregnancy. She hadn't been able to stomach the other options. She knew it meant she needed to tell him, but she still hadn't plucked up the courage. She told herself she was going to do it when she got back, but that day was fast approaching now, and she wasn't sure she could actually go through with it.

He'd been completely cold since her last conversation with him, when she'd brought up his family.

"Bastard," she muttered.

She gingerly got up from her position on the floor by the toilet and flushed it before she went over to the sink. She rinsed her mouth out and brushed her teeth, reapplying her lipstick when she was done. Then she stared at herself in the mirror. She felt like splashing cold water on her face and washing it off. Unfortunately, she had a meeting in an hour, and she was not going to redo her full face of makeup.

She moaned and closed her eyes, wondering once again why she was going through with this pregnancy. She felt like everything about her body and life was conspiring against her right now. Life really was a bitch.

At least she wasn't having to see him in the office right now. At least she was away where she could think—think clearly about the impending conversation she needed to have him. He wasn't around to distract her, or to make her lose her courage because he was being gruffer and colder than she was used to.

She moaned again and put her hand up, resting her forehead in it. She rolled her shoulders a little and put her hand back down. She wandered back into the bedroom and picked up her blazer, putting it back on.

"Pull yourself together," she muttered to herself.

Perhaps the worst part of it all had been the unexpected feeling of loneliness. She didn't have anyone to confide in about this whole ordeal. She didn't have a listening ear to tell her what to do next. Work had always been such a huge part of her life, she didn't have time to make friends and go out and do social things. She was the one these days telling people what to do next. And now, now she found herself without a close listening ear.

Ziva would be her best bet, but they also worked together, and Ziva worked with Jethro. It would be unfair to tell her before him. Ducky had always been like a father of sorts, but it was still awkward in the fact that he worked closely with them.

Perhaps she really should have made friends outside of work.

What frustrated her was that Jethro was the listening ear she wanted. Jethro would know what to do. Jethro was the one she could trust back in the day. He was a safe person to confide in, possibly because he tended to just not care about things. He never gossiped. If anything, he spent most of his time tuning the person out wishing that they would just sum up what they wanted to say and quit talking so much. He was the person she needed to confide in the most with this, the person who really did need to know.

And therein lie the problem.

If it wasn't such a serious and big thing, if they were on good terms right now, it would be easier to shrug off his attitude and tell him anyway. But this wasn't something easy. This wasn't just a problem. This was a life changing mistake that would permanently affect both of them. How was she supposed to just casually tell him that he'd gotten her pregnant and that they were going to have a kid? She was sure he didn't want this either. She didn't want him to feel cornered or forced. Then again, she was the one was was actually cornered. She was the one who was forced. She was the one who had made the decision to keep it because she was apparently more sentimental and weak than she had known.

She glared, cursing life for the millionth time in a week. She didn't want to deal with any of this. She wanted to go back to the way things were. She didn't want this in her life. She didn't want to feel so damn alone and out of sorts either. She wanted work to distract her and keep her busy like it always did, and she didn't want anything complicated in her personal life. She'd worked so hard to maintain that life, because that was what she liked, and now things were changing against her will. She should've never gone over to his house that day.

She marched to the door, deciding she was going to go take a brief walk outside and enjoy the weather before her meeting. It was much warmer here than DC right now. She had already seen people in their yards this morning taking down Halloween decorations, since last night had been Halloween. She was glad she missed the usual madness that went on during Halloween in DC.

She smirked, thinking about how she'd run into William Decker in a meeting yesterday. He'd been wearing some ridiculous, bright orange dress shirt, with a black clip-on tie that had little skulls patterned all over it. He hadn't changed all these years. Just as childish and relaxed as always. The fact he was apparently dating some new young blonde was just another testament to that. They hadn't had much time to catch up with each other, but it brought about a lot of good European memories to see him. He'd always been like a ridiculous older brother to her back in the day. Always protective, always goofy, yet still respectful of her. The one person who had known that she hadn't been able to go through with her op in Russia, and the one who had cleaned it up quietly for her. He'd known the last thing she wanted was to face Gibbs with her failure and be the one who blew the op.

She snorted, knowing he would have been floored if he knew she was pregnant with Jethro's spawn. He probably would've laughed his ass off after he picked his jaw up from the floor, and then followed it all up with some inappropriate crack.

She opened the door and stepped out heading to the elevator—immediately regretting her choice when she was hit by the foul smell as she reached it.

"Shit," she muttered, feeling her stomach flip flop as she raced back to the bathroom.


She'd been back home before she knew it, knowing that she needed to be an adult and tell him what was going. He'd barely looked at her on her first day back, and it had annoyed her enough to use it as an excuse to keep putting it off.

Today she was extra annoyed. She didn't like the way he was clearly taken with this Lieutenant helping on the case. He always had been a sucker for a pretty face.

"What's she like?" Jenny had asked Jethro earlier that day, as they watched the woman in question help his team in the bullpen.

He'd just given her this look.

"I just meant, is she up to the job?"

He'd just opened his mouth and almost looked at a loss for words, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"I'll let you know," he'd said in annoyance.

That was when his phone had rung and she found herself eyeing the Lieutenant Colonel from the catwalk, feeling a wave of jealousy shoot through her. He was definitely into the woman, and he'd just met her only a few hours ago.

When Hollis Mann shouted from the bullpen information they had just found, Jethro had left her side without hesitation and went back down to the bullpen. Seeing his back turn to her so quickly, and seeing him at that woman's side, immersed in what she was saying—Jenny felt her heart drop.

She realized in that moment that she couldn't put off telling him any longer. She couldn't stand to see him just moving on as if life wasn't any different when it actually was. It wasn't his fault that he didn't know. By all means, he was free to move on. Even if he didn't want to be with her and he wanted to be with other people, he needed to know that it wasn't just their past that permanently tied them together anymore.

Hell, if he didn't want to talk to her ever again, if he didn't want to be involved with the kid, then maybe she would look into adoption. The longer this was going on, the more she was realizing she didn't want to do it on her own. It was hard enough mentally dealing with the thought of it on her own. She still couldn't say she had accepted or embraced it, or that she even comprehended that is wasn't just in her head—despite the wave of symptoms that were screwing with her on every front.

She stared daggers at the sight of the woman giving Jethro a look. She was clearly into him as well. Jenny felt an irrational violent thought surge through her, and she decided to blame it on the mood swings she'd been experiencing with her hormones lately—not on the fact that she was jealous.

She couldn't ignore the feeling in her gut. She'd run out of her extra time to put it off. She needed to tell him tonight before things got any more complicated.


"You are gonna have to trust me," Hollis said.

"Is there anything I should know about you before we get involved?" Jethro asked.

"Involved?"

"In the case," he insisted, seeing the look she had.

Though, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been considering getting involved in the way she was thinking. She was attractive. It was distracting having her in his basement right now. He'd shamelessly checked out her ass and legs when she had turned her back to him earlier to get the beer.

It had been a couple months since the incident on his couch with his former 'partner', and he needed to move on. This could be the opportunity he needed to get her out of his head, not to mention quench the desire he'd been feeling ever since then. He didn't want to be in the desert anymore.

"You can have NCIS Intel do a profile on me, if you'd like," Hollis said.

"Oh, I could," he said with a nod, turning back to his boat. "But I like surprises."

He heard her lightly scoff and take a drink of her beer, and he almost smirked at himself. He knew she was into him. She'd been flirting, he'd been flirting. This could be fun.

She watched him continue to paint the letters as she drank her beer. He still wasn't sure if he was okay with her being here while he was trying to paint the letters of his daughter's name on the boat he'd built in memory of her. Though her failed attempt at finding out if he had a girlfriend was flattering, he didn't like that she'd tried to find out who Kelly was.

"So, no girlfriend then?" Hollis asked.

He smirked and looked up at her, about ready to answer when he paused, his head perking up as he listened. She turned her head slightly too. Someone else was here.

He listened as heels clicked on his kitchen floor and he felt his stomach squirm. He really hoped it wasn't who he thought it was. The heels made it to the basement entrance and he and Hollis both looked up.

God hated him.

The redheaded Director paused at the top of the stairs as she looked out on them.

"Oh, you have company. I'm sorry. I didn't see a car."

He wondered suddenly why Jenny looked so anxious. Normally she was overly confident when she invaded his basement territory.

"I parked on the other side of the street," Hollis said.

"I see."

Jenny looked down at Hollis, and he could see the annoyance in her eyes. He looked between them, sensing tension. He would be amused by the sight if he wasn't feeling annoyed by the interruption.

"I'm sorry, clearly I'm interrupting. I'll come back another time," Jenny said.

Jenny turned around, feeling her heart thunder with disappointment. Things were progressing more quickly than she thought between Jethro and this woman—considering the blonde was already in his sacred basement.

"Why ya here?" he called out before she made her escape.

She paused and slowly turned back.

"I needed to talk to you about something," she said softly, feeling the anxiety pumping through her blood.

"All right, talk," he said.

"It's not case related," she said, glancing at Hollis.

He looked between her and Hollis again, trying to figure out what the hell she'd want to talk about that wasn't case related. They hadn't had a real conversation in ages. Why was it she was here, getting into his head again when he was finally starting to move on?

"I needed to go anyway," Hollis said, clearly also sensing the tension.

Jenny almost spoke up, almost told the woman it was fine and she should stay, that she could talk to Jethro later. But then she realized she really didn't want this woman in his basement any longer than she had been, and she didn't feel guilty about breaking up whatever was going on between them down here. Besides, she really needed to just get this conversation over with, and it was far more important than some basement hookup.

Jethro nodded at Hollis, feeling irritated at the whole situation. He could tell she was trying to figure out why Jenny was there, probably wondering if he and Jenny were a thing. Jenny just happening to walk in after the girlfriend question was more than bad timing.

"Thanks for the beer," Hollis said, handing the unfinished drink to him and giving him a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave another nod and watched her walk up the steps.

"Director," Hollis greeted as she passed her.

"Lieutenant Colonel," Jenny returned.

They both listened as she walked out, hearing her footsteps fade gradually before his front door opened and closed.

Jenny looked at Jethro, feeling more nervous now that they were alone, now that she could sense just how tense and angry he was. She had been hoping her basement confession wouldn't go too terribly, but it had already started off on a sour note. He glared at her and then stood up, turning his back to her as he headed to his counter.

"What the hell ya need to talk about tonight?" he demanded, putting the beer down forcefully.

She crossed her arms and looked up, closing her eyes as she tried to summon strength. For once this week, she was pretty sure the nausea she was feeling wasn't related to her morning sickness. She took a breath and decided to descend the steps, taking them slowly as she tried to figure out how she was going to tell him. Her mind felt blank, and she felt so nervous she wasn't sure she could actually do it. She was starting to think it might be best to just leave.

She glanced at what he'd been working on as she reached the bottom of the steps, feeling a pang in her heart as she saw the name "Kelly" on the boat. The smell of paint and the leftover perfume from the other woman hit her simultaneously as she looked at the name, and she felt her nausea double. She put her hand up to her nose, pinching the bridge of it and closing her eyes, concentrating as she breathed through her mouth.

He turned around, his eyes landing on her.

"Jen, you okay?" he asked, his irritation turning into concern. She looked sick. He was reminded of when she visited autopsy in her probie days.

"I-I'm fine." She opened her eyes again and removed her hand. She looked at the half painted name again and then turned to him.

"It's beautiful," she said quietly, gesturing to the boat.

He saw her look at the name and felt his irritation return. The fact that she knew why that name had been chosen made him feel like she was intruding on a private moment.

"I'm sorry I infringed on your date."

"Wasn't a date," he mumbled.

"Are you wanting to go on a date with her?" she asked, feeling her irrational jealousy kick in again.

"Why the hell do you care?" he snapped.

"I don't…I'm just curious."

"Sure seems like ya do."

"Why the hell do you care if I care?"

"Because it's none of your business," he retorted, raising his voice.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. We have a past, but that's all it is. It's called 'past' for a reason."

"We slept together two months ago," she pointed out angrily. "That's not exactly the definition of 'past'."

He snorted sarcastically. "You mean when you said it was just 'two old partners catchin' up'?"

"Maybe I just said that because you were leaving and I didn't want to pressure you. Maybe it was because I thought you regretted it and I didn't know how I felt either," she said, flinging her arms out in frustration.

He hit the counter with his hand, making her jump.

"Why the hell are we talkin' about this now? It's been two months! What, some other woman starts showin' some interest in me and suddenly you care?" he yelled.

"I care because you knocked me up!"

She frightened herself by the verbal confession, not expecting it to come out. She hadn't planned for it to go this way. It had gone much differently in her head.

She watched as his body went rigid and his mouth parted in surprise. She wasn't sure why she suddenly felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She wasn't sure if she was upset at him, relieved to finally have it out in the open, or just plain terrified. She took in a shaky breath and tried to fight back her emotion.

It felt eerie for the room that had been filled with yelling seconds ago to be dead silent.

He felt his mind going a million miles an hour, and swore he must have misheard her. She couldn't mean…she couldn't be—

"I…'knocked you'—you're—?" he struggled.

She gave a nod, trying to calm herself and hold in her tears.

"I-I'm pregnant," she confirmed shakily, feeling her breath catch.

In any other situation she'd be laughing at his expression, but all she could do now was succumb to her tears. She put a hand up to her face, her shoulders slumping as she gave up the fight, feeling her tears wet the palm of her hand. She wrapped her free arm around herself, hugging herself as she tried to find some sort of stability. She hadn't realized just how much pressure she'd been holding in by keeping this to herself for this long.

He wasn't sure he could breathe. He wasn't sure he could think. He stared at her as she began to cry, not sure what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to say. Was she seriously…? His mind went back, thinking about how long it had been since that night.

"Jen, you're really…you're sure?"

She lowered her hand and looked at him through her tears, nodding.

"I'm sure," she choked out, taking a very shaky and deep breath as she removed her hand and tried to compose herself.

"And you're sure it's mine?"

She scoffed loudly, feeling the urge to slap him. Did he think she had a new man in her bed every week or something?

"No, Jethro, I'm just saying it's yours because I'm jealous of that blonde bimbo," she snapped, making him glare. "Of course it's yours. You're the only man I've had sex with in ages," she flung out in frustration. She wiped her tears angrily on the back of her sleeve.

He swallowed at the realization, trying to get his brain to process it. She was pregnant…and it was his? It had been a couple of months since then…

"How long have you known?" he asked quietly.

She stiffened guiltily.

"About three weeks," she admitted, seeing anger flash in his eyes. "I didn't go to the doctor to confirm it until two weeks ago."

"Why didn't you tell me then?" he demanded, gritting his teeth.

"Because I wasn't sure what I was going to do."

"First thing you should've done was tell me!"

"I didn't want a baby, Jethro! I still don't! Do you have any idea how I felt when I found out? I wasn't sure if I should tell you because I wasn't sure if I was going to keep it or what the hell I was even going to do. I've spent weeks agonizing over it, trying to figure out how my future is supposed to work now."

"We," he emphasized, pointing between them, "could've figured it out."

"We?!" she scoffed. "How? We," she mocked, pointing between them, "have barely been speaking. Hell, you've barely been able to even look at me. How was I supposed to approach this?"

"Ya just tell me!"

"I'm telling you now!"

They just glared at each other fiercely, both of them standing stiffly. She crossed her arms and looked away, feeling her emotions threaten to make tears fall again. She had known this conversation wasn't going to go down well, and she knew the longer she had put it off the more angry he would be. Still, it wasn't like he wasn't responsible for this too.

"Look," she breathed out, not looking at him and trying to calm herself. "This isn't easy on me. I'm exhausted, all the time. I noticed today that my pants don't button as easily as they used to. My bladder is being ridiculous and my hormones are starting to go haywire. I've thrown up five times this week already because I get nauseous and smells trigger it off—the paint fumes down here alone are starting to kill my head."

She lifted her hand up to her head for a second and he was about to start forward to drag her out of the basement away from the fumes when she started talking again.

"I don't want a baby. I never have. Now I'm going to have one whether I like it or not, because I couldn't stomach the idea of getting rid of something—" she cut off, feeling her emotions hit her hard again, "—something I made with you." The tears leaked again and she swiped at them furiously.

He swallowed, feeling like a complete bastard. He scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to determine what he was supposed to do and what the next logical step was in this whole mess.

"Come on, let's get you away from the paint," he said calmly, walking towards her. She didn't move and still wouldn't look at him. "Jen?"

She looked at him and he was hit by the emotions he saw in her face. He'd never seen her look so lost.

"I can't do this, Jethro," she whispered, another tear rolling down her cheek.

He sighed, reaching forward and putting his hand on her cheek, swiping away the next tear. He pulled her forward into his arms and hugged her, resting a hand against the back of her head. He felt her body relax and she wrapped her arms around him. He couldn't help but turn his head slightly, breathing her in.

"It's gonna be okay," he whispered into her hair. "We'll figure it out."

Her body started to shake in his arms, and he could feel the tears soak through the shoulder of his t-shirt. He just held on to her, feeling a wave of guilt hit him. He should've used protection. Hell, it shouldn't have happened in the first place. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with all of this. What they were supposed to do.

"Come on," he whispered, letting go of her. He reached for her hand and guided her to the stairs, nodding for her to walk up them ahead of him. She paused when she reached the landing, as if she was lost, and he took her hand in his and took her past the kitchen and into the living room, directly to the couch where he prompted her to sit.

"Can I get you anything? Water, or somethin'?" he asked.

"I'd love a glass of bourbon," she said, rubbing her head.

He nodded and just about stepped away to get the bourbon when it occurred to him that pregnant women didn't drink. At least, he certainly hoped she wasn't drinking. He looked at her uncertainly.

She looked at him and chuckled, seeing the question in his eyes.

"I'm joking," she appeased. "A glass of water will be fine, thank you."

He nodded again and turned to go into the kitchen, still trying to process the unexpected information she'd unleashed on him tonight. She should have told him when she'd first found out. He glared as he grabbed a glass.

She looked down at the couch, thinking about the last time she'd been on it. And now here she was again, her body a result of that steamy encounter.

He came back with the glass, seeing her staring at the couch intensely, her hand resting on it almost reverently. The memories flashed through his brain of the last time she'd been here on the couch and he tried to force himself away from them. He cleared his throat to get her attention, amused by the embarrassed look she gave him. He handed the glass to her and watched her drink.

"You feelin' better?" he asked uncertainly as she put the glass down.

"I'm not sure I'll ever feel better," she laughed tiredly.

He stared, not really sure what to do now. This was completely unfamiliar territory. Sure, Shannon had been pregnant, but that was planned and they were both happy about it. In fact, she'd been ecstatic. This was completely different…almost the exact opposite situation.

"When's it due?" he asked.

"Mid-June, 2007."

He calculated in his head how long that was going to be. It was early November now.

"Seven months," he muttered. She gave a nod in response.

The silence was killing her. It felt like something should be being done, but there wasn't anything to do. She was pregnant. She would be for another seven months. He knew now. They were in a rocky place and it was more than a little awkward. Everything from here was just up to time.

"I should go," she said, getting up.

"Stay."

"No I...I shouldn't," she said, glancing down at the couch. "I should just go home...let you think, get some rest."

"You're exhausted. Not safe for you to drive," he reasoned, looking at the dark circles under her eyes.

"I'm always exhausted," she said, laughing a little. "I'm fine, I'll be safe. I'd sleep better in my own bed."

She knew it wasn't completely true. She'd sleep best if he was with her, she always had in the past. She eyed him in his t-shirt and jeans, taking in his hair which was still longer. She imagined what it would be like to be in bed with him right now, his body pressing against hers as he kept an arm around her protectively. But she knew they weren't in that kind of place right now.

He clenched his teeth, knowing she wouldn't change her mind.

"Fine," he conceded, giving a nod.

"Goodnight, Jethro," she said, turning away.

He swallowed as her back turned to him, feeling like things shouldn't be this awkward. His mind scrambled for something to say, something to mend the bridge, something to convey how sorry he was.

"Jen."

She turned to look at him.

He opened his mouth, coming up blank.

"Drive safe."

She gave a nod and continued out, knowing he was probably just as unsure what to do with this situation as she was.


A/N: Thank you all for your lovely reviews on this story so far! I do appreciate it. I'll try my best to be somewhat consistent with posting new chapters on this story. You'll have to be patient at times, because my personal life is extremely busy with my jobs. Thank you again!