She was going to find him, and she was going to kill him. It was the end of Leroy Jethro Gibbs as the world knew it.

She'd come home from the office, feeling exhausted, looking forward to the leftovers she knew she still had from her takeout yesterday, only to open the fridge and not find them. When she looked to the garbage can at her right, she noticed the empty boxes in there. Jethro had eaten her leftovers.

She had taken a breath—it wasn't the end of the world, it was fine. There wasn't anything interesting to eat in the house right now, but she could find something to scrounge up. Then, she remembered the slice of cake she'd brought home from Abby's birthday bash at the office a couple of days ago, and thought that would be a perfect way to satisfy the craving she'd had all day for something sweet and sugary.

Then she'd looked on the counter behind her where she had placed it the other day, only to find nothing. Upon inspection of the garbage again, she'd found the tiny plate with frosting and crumb remnants, along with the scrunched up sheet of plastic wrap that had covered it.

That was when she decided Jethro was a dead man.

Clearly, he had too much fun hanging around the house on his day off. She, meanwhile, had been slaving away at the office all day, stuck in MTAC for hours watching tense operations. She was running on little sleep, because he had kept her up most of the night. Sure, it had been a more than enjoyable night for her too, but he was the one who had gotten to sleep in while she had to get up early for work. But she had gotten through it, putting on her smile and wearing her usual diplomatic attitude, surviving a day that seemed determined to test her patience at several turns.

But this was the limit.

She was tired. She was hungry. And it was all his fault.

He had taken her sleep. He had taken her food. He had taken her cake.

She stalked past the fridge into the little laundry room and turned to the basement door, her eyes locating him instantly, only to see him holding an empty glass container that used to have bourbon in it and chuck it into his little garbage bin.

The bourbon that she had bought...the bourbon that was incredibly expensive. Sure, it had been almost empty last she had some, but that little bit should have been finished off by her, not him.

She had been wrong before. Now she really wanted him dead.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded.

He looked up in surprise.

"Bad day at work?" he asked with a smirk, turning to whatever he was doing with the boat tonight.

He should be cowering. He should be begging for his life.

"Did someone teach you growing up that it's fine to consume what isn't yours?" she snapped.

He looked back up at her, his eyes narrowing, clearly trying to figure out what was wrong. He was silent for a few seconds, looking baffled.

"What?"

"My leftover food. My cake. My bourbon," she growled.

Understanding dawned on his face and he went back to what he was doing again.

"Well?" she snapped, her eyes popping.

"We got the takeout together, and you ate part of mine. You didn't touch that cake for two days and insisted you were off sugar, so I figured someone may as well enjoy it. The bourbon, well, you owe me," he said with a shrug, smirking as he blew sawdust off a rib.

She wondered if he was was simply stupid or if the sawdust had gone to his head and given him a brain injury. Clearly, he wasn't taking this seriously.

"You ate my food. The food I was looking forward to eating when I got home from work today, unlike you," she snarled.

"You eat my food all the time," he muttered, still ignoring her.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothin'," he said loudly, turning to look at her.

They both glared at each other, neither willing to put aside their stubborn attitudes. They'd been here several times before, and it always ended up in some kind of verbal fight.

It was then that she realized she didn't have the energy to deal with that tonight. Instead, she decided to take the mature way out of this, since she knew he was in the wrong. She'd be the adult.

She pulled off her heels and flung one of them as hard as she could in the direction of the boat—striking one of the ribs forcefully, causing a tiny piece of wood to chip off and go flying. She took pride in the way Jethro had flinched away in pure terror at that second.

"What in the hell?!" he shouted.

She turned around and stormed off as he rushed to inspect the injury on his precious boat. She hoped she hurt it. She gripped onto the other heel in her hand, glaring as she marched through the kitchen and headed into the living room.

"Jen?"

She ignored his shout for her, hearing him head her direction.

"Hey!"

She walked faster, going to the stairs. She heard him running and she turned halfway up the stairs to face him as he reached the bottom of them, holding her other heel up menacingly. He flinched and dodged to the side, holding his arms in front of his face. She smirked.

"Jeez, what's the matter with you, woman?"

"Me?" she yelled, pointing to herself hysterically. "What's the matter with you?" she shot back, pointing at him with the heel, making his eye twitch.

"Somethin' bad happen at the office? You're actin' crazy."

She laughed.

"Ohhh, you haven't even seen crazy from me yet, but you eat my food again and I promise you'll get a taste."

She turned and marched up the rest of the stairs, hearing him mutter under his breath what sounded like "women" and "hormonal" and "psycho". She threw her heel behind her and heard him yelp. She hoped it hit him somewhere unpleasant.

"I'm ordering some food," she announced. "You touch a single piece of it..." she trailed off in a growl.

She didn't care that she was being unreasonable. She didn't care if she was acting "crazy" or "psycho." She'd be damned if he thought he could lounge around all day and eat her food when she was stuck working.

Perhaps she would have mercy when the pizza arrived and share it with him. No matter how much he ticked her off, she still loved him. She just hoped in the meantime he would think about the merits of not touching her food, or at least pretending to be apologetic when he did manage to piss her off.

She grinned, suddenly realizing that she had the day off tomorrow while his team was stuck working the early morning weekend shift. She was going to be the one keeping him up tonight.