They were silent as they entered the elevator and the air between them was heavy with the unsaid.

Gibbs snapped the emergency switch off as soon as he was sure they were out of earshot and let out a quiet sigh in an attempt to brace himself. When he finally turned to face her, tension was evident on his face. "What is it, Jen?"

Her face was stony, and he knew what was coming.

"I'm pregnant, Jethro."

A flare of anger rose within him as he realised just how upset he still was with her for leaving. "What so you were just going to leave and not tell me but now you're having second thoughts?" he shouted, yelling out of nowhere.

And in a flash, she was toe-to-toe with him, yelling back. "You think I knew about this? This isn't what I wanted! I could easily have gone ahead and terminated and never told you anything!"

"Yeah?" He said, arguing just because he felt like it. "Well why didn't you?"

"Because I figured you at least deserved some say in all this! What, would you rather I just went and dealt with it?" she hissed again, more than a little bit piqued. She hadn't travelled all this way and not showered to be accused of planning this.

"No." he said before catching her raised eyebrow, "No!"

"Then tell me, Jethro," she began, quieter now, imploring. "What was I supposed to do, what am I supposed to do? Because I have no idea."

Gibbs looked at her, his blue eyes catching her greys, oddly touched by her honesty. His anger died it its place. She was vulnerable, and she was showing it, which was something they never did, not to each other, not to this level.

"Don't get rid of it, Jen." His voice was so quiet, his eyes so solemnly, silently pleading that it took her breath away.

She nodded feebly, as she held his gaze, the decision made, just like that.

A thought suddenly occurred to Gibbs. "How far?"

"How far along am I? By my calculations, about eight weeks." Jenny said, pursing her lips.

"And the Doctor's?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen one."

"Jen…" He said, admonishingly.

"What? I didn't want to do anything until I was sure."

"And you're sure now?"

"Of that part, yes." Jenny looked at her watch, part out of need and partly because she did not want to have this conversation now. "I have an appointment to see the Director."

"Does he know about all this?"

"He does."

"Does he know about me?"

"Well I didn't tell him, but I'm pretty sure he's figured out that much."

"You want me to come too?"

Jenny looked at him, her lips pursed wryly, with a glint in her eyes, amused by Gibbs's attempt at chivalry. "I'm a big girl, I can handle it myself."

One side of her mouth quirked up in a half smile, and Gibbs couldn't help but do the same.

He reached over and flicked the elevator back on, watching her as it whirred back to life. That was that part sorted, but what they were going to do about them was another thing entirely.

"Have a seat, Agent Shepard." Director Morrow said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. He studied Jenny a moment before speaking. "Have you spoken to Agent Gibbs yet?"

"I have," Jenny said nodding the affirmative.

"And am I correct in assuming his role in all this?" Morrow asked.

"You are, sir." Jenny said, meeting his gaze head on. She had guts; he'd give her that.

"And have you made a decision regarding what you're planning on doing about it?

"I have. I'm afraid I'm no longer able to fulfill my role in Cairo, sir."

Morrow had gathered as much but was still unable to keep the surprise from his face. Up until now a promotion had been all she wanted. "That's a shame. You're a talented agent, Shepard."

"Thank you, sir," she said, smiling sadly.

Morrow smiled back in kind. "Well then, how I would you feel about position back here at the Navy Yard? We could use your skills on the Major Crimes Response Team. Would you be willing to go back onto Gibbs's team?"

Jenny's eyebrows shot upwards.

"In reduced capacity of course," Morrow continued at her expression, "Desk work and collecting evidence at crime scenes that have already been secured to take into account your condition."

"Have you spoken to Agent Gibbs about this?"

"No, but I have a feeling he'll be wanting to keep a close eye on you anyway. "

"I can look after myself, sir."

"I know that, but given the circumstances, and his role in this...blessed event, I think it's appropriate."

"Yes sir."

"Meanwhile, I suggest you go home and get some rest, take that week off, then report to agent Gibbs next Monday."

Jenny nodded. "Is that all, sir?"

"For now. But if you see Agent Gibbs, tell him I'd like to see him. Oh, and Shepard?"

Jenny turned back to look at him.

"Congratulations."

She gave him a tight smile before letting herself out.

Morrow shook his head and chuckled quietly to himself. Those two were consummate professionals, though they'd apparently consummated something else. Not that that in and of itself surprised him - he'd always suspected there was something between those two, but an ambitious, young agent like Shepard coming back from a plum promotion because she was pregnant with Gibbs's love child? You couldn't make this stuff up.

Gibbs returned to the bullpen and sat down at his desk, staying there all of thirty seconds before he decided he couldn't stand to be in the same room as DiNozzo's shit-eating grin a second longer. He pushed off from his desk, standing abruptly and strode out again without saying a word.

Ducky. He should go and see Ducky.

He tried telling himself it was because it'd be better Jenny to have someone else read in on what was happening, a doctor, but the truth of it was that it was one of the rare occasions that he needed to tell somebody.

The doors to autopsy whooshed open to reveal Ducky cleaning one of the tables.

"Is everything okay, Jethro? Jenny looked awfully upset."

Gibbs shrugged, it depended on your definition of okay. "She's pregnant, Duck."

Ducky's eyes were wide when he met Gibbs's. "Oh my... and it's yours, I take it?"

Gibbs nodded, averting his eyes. Here he was, 46 years of age, hell, she was 32, and he felt like some dumb kid who'd knocked up his teenage girlfriend.

"How's she taking it?"

"Seems fine." He knew she wasn't fine, but he didn't want to answer for her.

"She's brave, isn't she." Ducky said, looking at Gibbs rather pointedly in the eye, "She was brave to leave you, come to think of it. I think she saw whatever it was that none of your wives have seen until it was too late."

"And what's that, Duck?" Gibbs demanded, his voice loud and indignant, offended by the insinuation. "She wanted her career!"

"I don't doubt that was part of it, but the fact that she's here now telling you and not with her career should tell you a lot. I presume she is, as one would say, keeping it?"

Gibbs nodded once again.

"Be there for her, Jethro, and do try to let her in."

Gibbs's only response was to stare at him, but it was clear that Ducky had hit his mark.

"Tell her I'm here if she ever needs to talk."

Gibbs said nothing and left, letting morgue's doors swish shut behind him.

After work, Gibbs drove straight to Georgetown and parked outside Jenny's house. The looming townhouse was dark except for the bottom floor.

Before they'd left for Europe, he'd taken to sometimes letting himself in and drinking her bourbon as payback for her doing the same to his basement, something his wives had never ever been allowed to do. Diane had been livid, even though at the time she was long gone. She'd said something about coming back to pick up some clothes and yelled a whole lot of other things and then hit him with a golf club. He'd had to physically restrain Jenny to stop her arresting Diane.

Gibbs got out of the car and rang the doorbell, only for it to be answered by Noemi, the young Hispanic woman who had been Jen's maid at least as long as he'd known her.

She looked surprised to see him. "She is asleep, Senor Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded. "I'll wait."

The young woman looked conflicted, unsure whether she should let him in or not, but eventually stepped aside to let him past.

The inside of Jenny's house was dark, almost oppressive, same as it's always been. All decked out in reds, wood panelling and antique furniture. He didn't like it. If he had his way, he'd sand it all back and re-stain it a lighter colour. He headed found the kitchen, an acceptable waiting place, conspicuously not the study or the formal lounge, and sat himself down at the kitchen table.

Noemi followed him there, studying him a moment. "I go now, Senor Gibbs."

He nodded at her again, listening until he heard the front door close behind her. His eyes shifted to Jenny's fancy looking coffee machine.

He needed coffee.

He shrugged to himself before making short work of concocting a brew, sitting down again with mug in hand.

Who knew when Jen would surface.

His anger at her for leaving was evaporating faster than he thought it would. He'd been so busy being mad at her for choosing her career over him that he hadn't even stopped to think of any other reasons she might have had.

Ducky's words had left him feeling guilty at assigning her the blame.

She'd told him she loved him in Paris, and he'd laughed at her and brushed it off. He'd hurt her first, but at the time he'd done it because he was getting close to having feelings for her too big to deal with, he was worried that just maybe he might love her too.

It wasn't like he'd meant to get involved with Jen, but he hadn't tried not to either.

She was so unlike anyone he'd ever met, yet here he was.

He'd spent years trying to avoid this kind of situation. When Rebecca had wanted a baby, he'd said no. When Diane had mentioned it his answer had been to drink half a bottle of bourbon and take it out on his boat.

It scared him. He'd loved Kelly more than he'd thought humanly possible, and she'd died.

It was so damn early in the pregnancy, and already he felt intensely protective, not just of it, but of Jenny.

He was screwed.

He contemplated going to the study to see if the bourbon was where they left it.

A soft sound beside him caused him to look up, and he was unsurprised to find Jenny looking at him from the doorway, with one brow arched. She'd been expecting him.

"I don't remember inviting you in."

"You didn't." Gibbs said, smirking at her.

"Figures. Noemi?"

"Uhuh. If it helps, she wasn't happy about it."

"It doesn't." she said, pursing her lips on one side. "Help yourself," she said, nodding to the empty cup of coffee."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Do you want a drink?" He said, nodding to the kettle on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought this was my kitchen." She said tilting her head in jest.

Gibbs sighed loudly. "Do you want a drink or not, Jen?"

"Tea, thanks." She said, smirking.

Gibbs shot her an incredulous look.

Jenny shrugged. "Coffee just doesn't seem appealing right now."

Gibbs stared at her for a moment. Usually Jenny mainlined coffee like he did, often going so far as to steal his, though, come to think of it, Shannon had gone through something similar, she'd started feeling sick next. He was going to have to tell her about Shannon. Whatever they were now, whatever they ended up being, Jenny needed to know. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone ran me over with a truck." At the look on his face, she added, "I'm fine, Jethro."

He didn't look like he believed her, but he nodded as he busied himself making her tea. "Where do you keep the bags?"

"Top cabinet on your left."

She smiled softly as he set the mug down in front of her. He was being unusually sweet.

Gibbs was slow to sit back down as he contemplated his next move, but eventually sat down across from her. Jenny watched with an air of trepidation as he dug his wallet out of his back pocket.

He opened it, pulling out a worn photo, sliding it across the table to her.

She picked it up off the table slowly, her eyes widening as she took in the scene it portrayed. A Beautiful red-haired lady, and a little girl with brown hair and Jethro's eyes.

She lifted her gaze to meet his, and she knew. They'd been his, and they were no longer with him, or anyone else. "What were their names?" she said, her voice betraying the tears that were now blurring her vision.

"My wife was Shannon, and that's my daughter, Kelly."

"What happened?"

"Murdered."

"Jethro." Jenny whispered in horror, reaching out to grasp his hand.

The fact that his eyes are watery is her undoing, and a quiet sob escapes her.

Gibbs wanted to run. This was the first time he'd told anyone about his family without them forcing his hand, and it's foreign and uncomfortable, and that was without Jenny crying.

"When?" She asked, her voice husky.

"When what?" He said, though he knew full well what she was asking.

"When did it happen?"

"Ninety-two. Shannon witnessed the murder of a naval officer, the guy who did it shot the NIS agent protecting them, he was driving, and they died in the car crash."

"I'm sorry, Jethro." Jenny said, trying to impart her words with as much meaning as she could.

"She was only eight years old." Gibbs said, almost to nobody.

Jenny doesn't have to ask which she, but it was a punch to the gut. A complication to add to the ever-growing pile.

Gibbs was as stoic as ever despite his watery eyes, and Jenny wanted nothing more than to go over there and comfort him, but she doesn't know what's right anymore.

"Just thought you should know." Gibbs said, his voice rough.

"Thank you." Jenny said, her voice also still laden with emotion.

He nodded, clearing his throat. "I should go."

"Right."

When he stood up, Jenny followed suit, walking him to the front door.

"See you at work?" Gibbs asked.

"Morrow gave me the week off, said he wanted to talk to you, by the way."

Gibbs snorted quietly. "I'll bet he does."

Jenny smiled and looked away, and an awkward silence settled between them for a beat before she broke it. "Goodnight, Jethro," she said, stretching up to kiss his cheek, against her better judgement.

The edge of Gibbs's mouth quirked upward in a faint smile as Jenny shut the door behind him.