AN: In this chapter we begin the case file part of this story, which is going to incorporate parts of Yankee White, so any dialogue/plot points/whatever you recognise is from there and obviously not mine, though I've replaced a lot of it with my own. I may end up writing in some more S1 episodes, but I haven't decided yet :)

Updates are probably going to get slightly slower after this, but the aim is that they still won't take too long. I'm still working on it, but my baby is a little older now and has decided he's no longer happy just lying on the floor playing with toys, so carving out time to write is just that little bit harder.

Enjoy ^_^

Edited and updated 22/8/2020

In true Gibbs fashion he hadn't said anything other than a muttered 'goodnight' and had reverted back to being functionally mute. Twice now she had put in the effort to open up a little, and both times he'd pulled the 'strong and silent type', and quite frankly, and if he wasn't even going to try then what was the damn point?

Jenny slammed the heavy oak front door behind her which rattled a nearby side table as it did.

He'd offered to drive her home, but when the silence had continued, she'd simply disentangled herself from his grasp and left him standing in the parking lot.

"Will someone please tell me why I came back again?" she asked her empty entryway, her voice echoing off the hard floor as she did. Her heels clacked on the tiles.

Really, she couldn't have stayed pregnant and not come back, but didn't lessen the sentiment. Running operations in the Middle East while taking care of a baby would have been impossible, and though circumstances were truly fucking lamentable, she was finding it impossible to truly regret coming home.

She headed for the study, but paused, heading instead for the kitchen as she changed her mind mid-step. She observed the old, wooden furniture that adorned the halls as she did, most of it older than she was. The house was full of it; the scrolling wooden tables, her grandmother's dresser, and the coat rack her father had put his hat on when he came through the door. The house was full of history, but since returning, it had started to feel less like home, and more like a house that once belonged to the ghosts she was unable to forget. It was her father's house; it was just that he was no longer there.

Her mind drifted back to Gibbs. His house was a spartan affair and had been since she'd known him, yet somehow it fit, it felt right, though after their 'discussion' this evening that point was probably moot and the best-case scenario was going to be that the kid ended up with a bedroom in each.

She yanked open the fridge and gazed at its contents dispassionately before closing the door again in disgust.

Then there was work, which was speeding up her descent into madness with its slow, monotonous march. Her days were spent reading old files and making phone calls, and Agent DiNozzo was an idiot. He wasn't certainly wasn't dull, but any points he gained there were utterly destroyed by the sheer irritation she felt towards him. Hidden in there was a man both sharp and ballsy, and she could see why Gibbs had hired him, but his façade was incessant, and he was driving her insane.

There were only so many hours in a day she could enjoy putting him back in his place, and for the rest of that time she was wearing down her molars, and the desk work she was doing while dealing with this was increasingly tedious. She shook her head. To think that her first position at NCIS had been a desk job, albeit a very different one, and these days when the stars aligned and she could actually accompany the men into the field, Gibbs spent the entire time breathing down her neck to make sure nothing dangerous was about to happen.

She had half a mind to request a transfer back to her old job as an analyst, but that wouldn't solve any of her personal problems, and Gibbs would just come and find her anyway.

She huffed as her stomach grumbled, though whether it was a hungry grumble or a 'don't even try to feed me' grumble was anyone's guess. There was barely a moment anymore that wasn't covered by hungry, thirsty, queasy, needing to pee, or all of them at the same time, and the latest development was that wearing a bra was driving her crazy, though all hell would probably break loose if she went to work without one, most likely starting with DiNozzo.

She reopened the fridge and grabbed a plate of last night's dinner with a wrinkled nose and tipped the meat and vegetables off the side into the nearby bin which left her with a pile of mashed potatoes that didn't turn her stomach on sight. "Three cheers for carbohydrates," she muttered and opened the microwave, but food was food, and with all the weight she was going to put on anyway, maybe nobody would notice.

Gibbs thudded angrily down the stairs to his basement and went straight for the jar and bottle still out where he'd left them. His gut was in turmoil along with the rest of him. He picked up the jar only to slam it down again without opening the bottle, because no matter how much he drank it wasn't going to help. He sank down onto the stool next to him and his eyes fell on the tape recorder he kept nearby. He stared at it and slid it closer, pressing his finger down on the well-worn 'play' button. Kelly's voice crackled to life. "Listen to me, Daddy!" she exclaimed and then began to sing nursery rhymes he'd taught her when he'd been home. He stopped the tape after two songs, but he knew it by heart. It had been the summer of '88, and Kelly had been four years old. He started the tape again, and this time it was Shannon's voice coming out of the tiny speaker. "She's getting so big, Jethro, we can't wait to see you!" and he had a few months later.

The tape clicked off and he swallowed thickly. That time they'd been there when he'd returned home. That time he'd had no idea what it was like not to be able to forgive himself for not being there when they'd needed him.

He could see the black and white print in his peripheral vision, along with it the realisation that he was a coward.

He was angry with Jenny, and it was all for daring to mean something to him and not be Shannon. He'd spent his deployments dreaming of his little family back home - Shannon's gentle, caressing touch, the smell of her skin, Kelly's laugh, the feel of her hair against his face as she ran to him for a hug, and all the years since imagining they were still here.

Two poorly chosen wives later and he was satisfied that there was no one else for him but Shannon. And then there was Jen. He relented and poured a generous splash of bourbon into the jar.

From the moment she'd poked her heel-clad toes into his life they'd had something, and then one thing led to another. With them, one thing was always going to lead to another.

He'd laughed when he first saw the picture attached to her file: Too pretty, too qualified, too his type. Whether it had been done intentionally or was whatever passed as fate he never found out, but they were well and truly beyond that now.

There'd been a moment in Paris when the sunlight caught her hair, and she'd smiled at him in a way that hit him square in the chest, and it had been then he knew: there was a lot more between them than lust, and it had sat uneasily ever since.

It wasn't her fault, but he'd blamed her anyway, because blame was easier than taking any kind of responsibility. She'd punched a hole in his carefully constructed safe-zone, and under it all, he wanted her in there.

He'd seen the exact moment the shutters had fallen behind her eyes and he'd done nothing about it but stand and watch her go.

She wasn't Shannon, she could never be Shannon, but she shouldn't have to be. His anger had faded, leaving only an uncomfortable melancholy.

He'd spent his deployments dreaming of his little family back home - Shannon's gentle touch, the smell of her skin, Kelly's laugh, the feel of her hair against his face as she ran to him for a hug, and all the years since focussed on the injustice of having them ripped away.

It was time to move on, or he'd be up for losing a whole lot more.

He ran a hand down his face. He was in love with Jenny, and he had been for a long time, and she'd just freely admitted to still loving him. For all the hurt, for all the anger and railing against it he had to at least try, starting with breaking Rule 6: 'Never say you're sorry, it's a sign of weakness', because sometimes it was called for - sometimes he was wrong.

He didn't see Jenny again for almost a week. She'd left him a message at a carefully chosen time telling him that she was taking days off and that Morrow had approved it. She was avoiding him. He'd suppressed his first reflex, which was to go and confront her head on because a twinge deep in his gut told him that would only make things worse. He'd settled instead for the far less preferred second choice of calling her. The first attempt had yielded nothing, but when he'd tried again moments later it barely had a chance to ring and he allowed himself a grin.

"I'm fine, Jethro, you can stop calling me"

"The baby?"

"Is also fine."

"You're not being held hostage?"

There was a beat's silence before she'd answered. "No."

"You sure."

"I need space, and time."

"Will you come back?" He asked, and bended to his insecurities.

"That depends."

"On?"

"What you say when I do. Goodbye, Jethro," She'd said and ended the call.

Her farewell had been weary and her tone final, and against his instincts, he'd left her alone.

DiNozzo had spent the rest of the week shooting him concerned looks, eventually asking if Jenny was still on their team, but after a curt nod to the affirmative, the younger agent stopped mentioning it, though it didn't stop the furtive glances as if he was expecting something to happen.

It was now Saturday and they were meant to be having the day off, but the fact the phone on the basement wall was ringing meant that it was unlikely to be the case.

"Yeah, Gibbs," he said into the receiver, half expecting to hear Jenny's voice on the other end of the line, but his ears were instead greeted with DiNozzo.

"A navy commander carrying the football on Air Force One just carked it in the air."

"Where'd they land?"

"Wichita, Kansas. The president's transferring to the backup bird. I booked us on a United flight out of Reagan; stops in Dallas before going on to Wichita."

"That the best you can do?"

"It's a Saturday, Gibbs. Y'know if we had our own jet…"

"We don't."

"Hey, is Shepard back with us? I wasn't sure, but I booked her a seat as well."

"Yup," he said in what was a half-truth. Friday was the final day she was officially out for, though she was probably expecting to be out until Monday.

"Are you gonna call her, or shall I?"

"You can."

Tony made a noise of surprise as he got an answer he wasn't expecting, but right now, he had a better chance of her answering than he did. Gibbs ignored him and continued. "Ducky's buds with coroners all over the country, see if you can't get one of them to hold the body for us until we get out there."

"On it, boss," he said and hung up.

Gibbs replaced the receiver and headed for the stairs.

The team arrived at the domestic terminal at about the same time, with Tony and Gibbs nearing the automatic doors as Jenny climbed out of a cab.

"Hey boss, there she is," Tony said and flicked his head in her direction.

Gibbs paused to take in her appearance; it was business casual as usual, topped off with a pair of large sunglasses, her red hair pulled into a messy ponytail. His eyes drifted to the ever-present evidence of life inside and back up again as she regarded him coolly from behind her shades.

"Jen," Gibbs greeted evenly.

"Gibbs," she greeted in kind, her face giving away nothing.

Tony watched them with an odd sort of trepidation. He knew he should look away sometime soon before either one of NCIS's power couple decided to end him, but at the same time he couldn't because they were fascinating. He was glad it had nothing to do with him, but also it did, because he was a third of their team. It was like some sort of iced-over Mexican standoff, or maybe it was just a regular standoff because if there was one thing he'd observed about these two over the weeks, it was that Gibbs would likely let her win.

Jenny meanwhile felt Gibbs's eyes on her again and ignored him. With everything between them her emotional state was frayed, and if she was going to have a breakdown, even if it was about him, he wasn't invited.

Gibbs grabbed Jenny's gear before she could get to it and left Tony to do most of the schlepping.

"Shall we?" Tony asked a little too brightly in what was a futile attempt to break the obvious tension. He watched as both parties began walking without a word, and concluded that whatever Gibbs had done, and he had to have done something, he must have really pissed her off. He was also quietly impressed, because he'd never seen anyone successfully pull a Gibbs on Gibbs before. Jenny was all stone and silence and directing it at the master himself, and, more importantly, getting away with it. He watched them walk in half step with one another, in some strange kind of sync down to their seemingly mutual consternation. It was only more obvious in her because he all but expected it from the boss.

He winced and he remembered that favour he did when he booked the seats: Gibbs and Jenny seated together, leaving him with Ducky a few rows behind. Maybe best not to mention it.

When they entered the building, Jenny pushed her glasses up onto her head as Tony prattled about private jets in an attempt to fill their silence. "FBI, CIA, DEA, ATF, even NYPD have private jets."

She rolled her eyes and cracked a small smile. "The Navy can get a hold of one when it needs to, it just didn't think a flight with you on it was worth the money."

Tony pulled a face at her.

"Look," Gibbs said, turning a glare on DiNozzo, having had enough of this conversation, "Thirty-six cents a mile. You wanna drive?"

"It's embarrassing," Tony protested.

"Hey, we're LEOs," Gibbs said to the airport security officer as they reached the front of the TSA line

"I'm a Capricorn," he shot back lamely.

"LEO, short for Law Enforcement Officer," Tony said, flashing his badge.

"You new at this, Dennis?" Gibbs asked and squinted at the TSA officer's name tag.

"First week," Dennis replied with a sheepish grin. "NCIS", he spelled out, "Never heard of it."

"Now that's embarrassing." Jenny said in a conspiratorial stage whisper to the other two.

"NCIS...anything like CSI?" Dennis asked, clearly not having learned from this encounter so far.

"Only if you're dyslexic," Tony quipped, having had enough of this guy.

Dennis eventually agreed to let them and their weapons through but protested at their bags.

"You're letting us take weapons aboard, but you want to scan our bags?" Gibbs asked incredulously.

"You've got permits for the weapons, you don't for the bags."

"We're about to miss our flight." Jenny said pointedly, in an effort to impart upon Dennis that he needed to hurry the hell up.

"Dennis!" Ducky called from just inside departures, "Those bags are mine!"

"Well why didn't you just say you were schlepping for the doc?"

Various sounds of irritation came from the trio as they grabbed their stuff and hurried through.

"Move it, lady and gentlemen, don't want to miss our flight!" Ducky yelled in their direction. They didn't need to be told twice.

Finally through security, Gibbs stormed off in search of coffee.

"He better hurries up, we'll be boarding in a moment," Ducky said, shaking his head.

"Are we sitting together or all over the place?" Jenny asked.

"You're with Gibbs, I'm with Ducky."

"I'll give you twenty dollars to trade places."

"No way, I'm not spending the entire flight sitting next to the boss."

Jenny turned her large eyes on Ducky who relented almost immediately.

"I'll trade, my dear, but I have to ask, is everything okay between the two of you?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" she asked, but her response was unconvincing, as was her smile, which caused Tony and Ducky to exchange worried glances.

"Gibbs!" Tony yelled as the man in question came back into view, just as the announcement for their flight came over the PA"

"Now boarding United Flight 164 to Dallas."