A/N: Set during season 5, after "Dog Tags". Hope you enjoy.

Swearing as her coffee cup slipped from her hand, Jenny pressed the button on her intercom.

"Cynthia?"

"Yes, Director?"

"Could you bring me a new cup of coffee, please?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you."

Jenny rolled her eyes at her own clumsiness, and set about the task of cleaning up the spilled liquid. She smiled wearily at her younger assistant as she set her replacement coffee on her desk and frowned as she realised her hand was shaking too badly to pick it up. She glared at the cup as though she could lift it with her pure will alone, and when it didn't move, she sighed.

Her door opened hard enough to bounce off the wall behind it, and she rolled her eyes again.

"Jethro, must you barge in here whenever the notion strikes you?"

He frowned at her harsh remark, but didn't comment.

"Need your signature on a warrant."

She nodded, gesturing to the desk.

"Just leave it there."

Her defeated tone made him pause, and he took a step closer to her, looking at her seriously.

"You okay?"

Nodding again, Jenny picked up the warrant he'd lain on her desk, and as he watched her reach for the pen, he noticed the shaking in her fingers. He looked at her with growing concern, and sat down in the chair opposite her desk.

"What's going on, Jenny?"

She frowned, glancing up at him, and he nodded at her.

"Your hand is shaking. Badly."

"I'm fine."

It was the same thing she'd told him in the elevator and he believed her even less now. His eyes roamed over her slowly, taking in every detail of her tired appearance, and he frowned. She was definitely thinner than she'd been previously, her skin was paler than fresh snow, and the circles under her eyes gave her a haunted look. She didn't meet his gaze, and he shifted closer in his seat.

"You're lying."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and her eyes snapped up to his angrily.

"What?"

"I'm not stupid. You're pale, you've lost weight, you look like you haven't slept in years...what's going on? Don't lie to me. We've come too far for that."

Jenny sighed, looking at him sadly.

"Jethro..."

"Jen. Please."

Damn him. He knew she could never refuse anything when he said "please". She bit down on her lip, trying to pretend that she didn't notice the way her pulse was racing. Nodding slowly, she took a deep breath and he frowned.

"I'm sick," she whispered.

"What?"

He hadn't meant to ask, he'd heard her perfectly fine, but it slipped out of his mouth automatically.

"I'm sick, Jethro," she repeated, her voice shaking.

"With what?"

She sighed, shaking her head sadly.

"Does it really matter?"

He frowned, looking at her seriously.

"Jen..."

"Please...just let it go."

While it was his first instinct to protest and keep pushing her until she told him, but one look at the pain in her eyes made him stop.

"How long?"

"Not long enough," she murmured.

He stared at her, his bright eyes searching hers and he knew, just by looking into them, that she was fighting back tears.

"Jenny..."

"Don't," she said, her voice breaking, "please don't, Jethro."

Gibbs nodded, looking at her seriously.

"Do you need anything?"

She shook her head, and gestured to the door. He didn't even realise that she'd been holding his warrant out to him for the better part of a minute, and he took it from her shaking hand.

"Thanks," he said, indicating the paper, "and if you change your mind...you know where I am."

Jenny nodded, and as he walked out the door, he found himself wondering if there was any way he could convince her to talk to him.

Gibbs sighed as the ringing of his phone shattered his concentration and he set down his sander. He flipped open his phone, reaching for the mason jar filled with bourbon on the table.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"Are you busy?"

"Jen?"

"Unless I woke up as someone else, yes."

He frowned at her sarcasm, noting the slight slur in her voice, and set down on the stool.

"How can I help you, Director?"

"Need to bounce something off you."

He waited, knowing she would speak when she was ready, and took another long drink of his bourbon.

"Do you believe in Hell?"

Of all the things he had expected, this hadn't been one of them.

"What are you talking about?"

"I thought it was fairly obvious," she said dryly.

"Any particular reason you're asking?"

She sighed, and he knew that she was taking another drink.

"Again, isn't it obvious?"

"Jenny..."

"No, you know what, Jethro? Forget it. This was a mistake."

She hung up, leaving him staring at his phone in silent shock. How had this gotten so messed up so quickly?

Jenny frowned at the incessant knocking on her front door, and when she pulled it open, her confusion only intensified.

"Jethro, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged.

"Figured we could continue our conversation from last night."

Nodding, Jenny stepped back to allow him inside, and she blinked hard as her vision swam. He followed her into the living room, observing that she seemed slightly unsteady as she walked. She misjudged the distance between her feet and the coffee table, crashing into it painfully, and he frowned.

"Jesus, Jen, how much have you had to drink?"

She glared at him as she sat down.

"I haven't," she snapped.

Gibbs sat down next to her, unsure if he should touch her, and he ultimately decided to reach for her hand.

"Talk to me. How are you handling this?"

She laughed bitterly.

"By drinking myself into oblivion nearly every night."

He nodded.

"Fair enough, I guess."

She stared at their entwined hands for a long moment, and he wondered if perhaps he had made a mistake.

"Are you going to answer my question now?"

He nodded, still holding her hand.

"Honestly, I don't know anymore. I mean, I'd like to believe that there's something after this life, but I'm not sure if I believe in Hell."

She looked at him curiously, and he frowned.

"Why did you ask about that one, though?"

Jenny shrugged.

"Because with all that I've done, there's no way I would get into Heaven, Jethro."

He stared at her as though she'd lost her mind.

"Nah, you definitely would. You're a good person, Jen. So you made mistakes in your life, we all have. That's no reason for you to be damned for all of eternity."

She looked back at him, and when she spoke, he was taken aback by the pain in her voice.

"I'm looking at my biggest mistake right now."

"Which part, Jen? Being with me or leaving?"

"I could never regret being with you, Jethro," she said quietly, "But leaving? I've regretted that mistake every damn day since I stepped off that plane."

He had never heard her so serious before, and more than anything, he wanted to kiss her. He knew that she would interpret it as him only wanting to be with her because she was sick, but nothing could have been farther from the truth. He'd meant what he had said to her on the steps on her first day as Director.

"Can I be brutally honest with you?" she asked suddenly.

"Always."

"I never stopped loving you, and it kills me to know how much I hurt you when I left."

He was still holding her hand, and it suddenly hit him just how thin her fingers had become. That small detail filled him with a fear that he hadn't expected, and he met her eyes seriously.

"I meant what I told you the night you came back. I've missed you, Jen."

Neither one of them ever knew which one moved first, but when their lips met, the jolt of electricity that passed through him made Gibbs realise just how much he'd missed touching her. It wasn't a deep, swept-off-their-feet kiss, but soft and tentative, just enough to hint at the fire burning behind it. Jenny pulled away first, her eyes downcast as she shook her head, and he frowned.

"What?"

"Jethro, I—we can't do this. You can't be with me. It's too late now."

He stared at her, knowing that she would react this way, and tilted her head up with his hand.

"If you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't want this, I won't say another word about it."

"I'm sick, Jethro. I don't want you to be with me just because of that. It's not fair to either of us."

He shook his head.

"I'm not. Weren't you listening? I told you two years ago when you came back that I wanted you. You were the one who shot it down. That hasn't changed. I still want to be with you. For as long as I can."

She frowned, looking at him skeptically.

"What about Colonel Blondie?"

He rolled his eyes.

"You and I both know that wasn't going anywhere. It's always been you, Jen. It always will be."

"I'm still dying, Jethro," she whispered, "This won't have a happy end."

Gibbs leaned forward, kissing her softly.

"Any scenario where I'm with you is a happy one. Don't shut this down. I know you're worried about what's going to happen, but you don't have to do this alone."

Jenny sighed, and he thought for a fleeting moment that she was going to refuse him again.

"Tell me, Jethro."

He didn't even have to ask what she meant. He kissed her again, his lips inches from her own as he spoke, and smiled.

"I love you, Jen."

She'd never thought that she would hear those words, and no matter how hard she tried, Jenny couldn't stop the tears that fell from her eyes. She kissed him slowly, her hand raking through his hair and for the first time in months, her smile was genuine.

"I love you, too."

Over the next few weeks, Jenny's health began to rapidly decline, and as Gibbs watched her from his desk, he was struck by how pale she was. He had noticed as she'd dressed for work that morning that she'd had difficulty with the buttons on her blouse, but now as she walked closer to him, he wondered how she had managed to stand at all.

"Here's your warrant," she said, her voice slightly breathless.

She tossed it onto his desk and he jerked his head slightly towards the elevator. She understood and when he followed her into the lift, he was surprised when she hit the emergency stop first.

"Is there something you want to ask me?"

He nodded.

"Yeah. How bad is it today?"

She shrugged, but her eyes told a different story.

"You look like you're about to pass out," he informed her.

Jenny nodded, her eyes meeting his seriously.

"Feels that way, too," she whispered.

"Go lie down on the couch in your office. Take it easy."

Her head shook and she sighed.

"I can't. I've got too much to do."

She reached for the switch to turn the elevator back on, and lost her balance as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Gibbs caught her as she fell, narrowly avoiding crashing into the walls of the lift, and she gripped his jacket weakly.

"Jen...please."

She was silent for a moment, and when she finally spoke, her voice was unsteady.

"I don't think I can."

He frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think I can walk that far," she clarified.

He lifted her into his arms, frowning at how light she'd become, and he kissed her hair gently.

"I've got you, Jen."

As soon as he flipped the switch, Jenny closed her eyes at the bright light, and when the doors opened, she prayed that no one would look up at the catwalk and see them. That was all she needed.

Miraculously, they made it back to Jenny's office without being noticed, and when he placed her gently on the couch, he pulled out his phone.

"Ducky knows?" he asked.

She nodded, and he put the phone to his ear, watching her from the corner of his eye as it rang.

"Autopsy."

"Ducky, need you to come up to the Director's office. Be discreet."

"On my way."

As he knelt next to the couch, he noticed how violently she was shaking, but he had no idea if it was merely a symptom or not.

"Jethro?"

Her quiet voice caused him to jump, and he looked at her.

"Hm?"

"Can I tell you something and you won't laugh at me?"

He nodded, searching her eyes seriously.

"Anything."

"I'm scared," she murmured.

He reached for her hand, her skin ice cold as he brought it to his lips.

"I know, Jen. It's okay."

In truth, he was scared, too. He'd known that she would get worse, but he'd not expected it to happen this quickly. She'd seemed okay the night before, they had even had sex, and now she couldn't even stand. The door opened, revealing a concerned Ducky and he frowned when he saw the fear in her eyes.

"Jennifer?"

"It's okay, Ducky. He knows."

The Scottish doctor nodded, and knelt down to examine her. She gave him a weak smile and when he finally straightened up, he didn't return it.

"I could tell you all the specifics, my dear, but simply put, your illness is progressing. I can give you something for the pain if you'd like, but...unfortunately, that's really all I can do."

Jenny nodded, and he kissed her cheek.

"I am so very sorry, Jennifer."

He excused himself from the room, and Gibbs followed him, hoping to catch him before he got too far.

"Duck, how long?"

Ducky frowned, thinking, and his eyes met the younger man's sadly.

"A few months, perhaps. Maybe more, maybe less. I wish I could give you a better answer. I know how much you care for her."

"It's more than that. I love her."

Ducky nodded, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"I know. And she loves you. For now, let that be enough."

The agent nodded once, and returned to the redhead's office, lifting her up just enough that he could sit down, placing her head in his lap.

"What did he say?" she asked.

He shook his head, smiling down at her.

"Don't worry about it."

"I know it won't be much longer," she said quietly, "I can feel it."

Gibbs leaned down to kiss her forehead, running his hand over her hair.

"Doesn't matter, Jen. I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled weakly at his words, and as he held her, she found herself believing him. It didn't matter how much time they had, all that mattered was how they spent it. She'd wasted so many years regretting the choices she'd made, and now she had the chance to make it right again. She'd be damned if she threw it away. The silence was only broken by the occasional whispered "I love you", and as Gibbs held Jenny in his arms, he knew that no matter how long they had, he was going to make sure she never forgot how much she meant to him.

A/N: Season 5 is the last season I've seen, and so much about it pisses me off. I hate that Jenny never told Gibbs that she was sick or how she felt about him, I hate that Gibbs told her "no" in "Lost and Found", and I hate that they killed her without having them get back together. Okay, rant over.