A/N: Wow, two updates in one day! Please, don't get used to it. Daylight Savings Time is really messing with my sleeping schedule, so I imagine a crash is imminent in the next few days. Anyway, here's the next part. Also, a HUGE thank you to my reviewers! You have no idea how happy you guys make me! Enjoy!

Gibbs frowned as he took in Jenny's empty office. He knew she hadn't left for the day, but he hadn't been able to find her anywhere. As he passed Cynthia on her way out, he called her name, hoping maybe she could provide an answer.

"Yes, Agent Gibbs?"

"Have you seen Director Shepard?"

She smiled.

"Last I saw her, she was in the gym. Probably still there."

He nodded, hitting the button to call the elevator. He nearly collided with Ducky as he stepped in and frowned.

"Jethro, I was just on my way to see you."

"Find anything?"

The doctor shook his head, flipping the emergency switch.

"I'm afraid not. The only DNA we've found on anything is Jennifer's. That's not what you wanted to hear, I'm sure, but with the weather, it's highly unlikely that we're going to find anything. The traces of latex were from the condom, standard, nothing unusual, and unfortunately, her description doesn't give us much to go on."

"She was raped, Duck. I don't think she had time to take notes!"

Ducky held up his hands in surrender.

"Jethro, I wasn't implying that Jennifer is to blame. I'm amazed that she was able to recall anything. She's handling all of this remarkably well, I must say."

Something must have shown on Jethro's face, because it caused the doctor to frown.

"You disagree?"

"Not handling it as well as you think, Duck. You haven't seen her like I have."

"I know you mentioned her getting upset on the phone a few days after the incident. Have there been other occurrences?"

Gibbs nodded and Ducky sighed.

"How bad?"

"Bad enough. We gotta find this guy, Duck."

He flipped the switch and Ducky stepped out on the floor to autopsy. As Jethro headed to the gym, he ran a hand through his hair. Given Jenny's current state of mind, he had absolutely no idea what he might find when he saw her next.

Jenny's legs were on fire as she ran, and she tightened her ponytail to keep it from falling. She took a long drink from her water bottle and paused just long enough to set it down on the ground. Turning on her heel, she resumed her pace, not noticing that she wasn't alone anymore. As she collided with something solid, she screamed, jumping back instantly.

"Jen, it's okay. Just me."

His arm reached out to steady her and when her eyes locked onto his, he saw the fear slowly fade.

"Jethro, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. How long have you been down here?"

"Um..."

She grabbed his wrist, turning it over so she could reach his watch.

"Two hours."

He cocked an eyebrow at her and she laid down on the floor at his feet. Looking at him suggestively, she gave him a smile.

"You gonna help me or not?"

He sighed, bending down to grasp her ankle.

"Why do you do this?"

"Helps me stay in shape," she replied easily, "Keeps me...flexible."

The look she gave him was positively sinful. He carefully bent her leg back slowly, applying pressure and when she winced, he stopped.

"Keep going."

"Jen—"

"Keep going."

Sighing, he put his weight on her leg again, and when she finally nodded, he reached out to help her up. As his fingers closed around her wrist, her eyes flashed and he immediately let go. He knew what the look in her eyes meant and he backed away, giving her space.

"Jen?"

She blinked and when her viridian eyes met his, he knew she was back. Shaking her head once, she stood and grabbed her water bottle.

"I'm okay, Jethro."

He watched her for a moment, not quite sure he believed her, and as he followed her out of the gym, he noticed her body was shaking slightly. Once they were in the elevator, he flipped the switch, throwing them into darkness.

"Wanted to let you know, Ducky hasn't found anything yet, but we're not done. Abby's still looking over everything, and McGee is still running the tapes."

Jenny nodded and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Where are you staying tonight?"

She frowned.

"My house. Where else would I stay?"

Gibbs shrugged.

"You could always stay at my place. I'll supply the bourbon."

The smile she gave him reminded him of the Jenny who had once been his Probie, so young and eager to take on the world.

"Sure, Jethro."

As he flipped the switch again, he kissed her cheek, offering her a smile of his own. They had no sooner stepped out of the elevator than McGee's voice rang out through the bullpen.

"Boss, we've got something on the security tapes. Since this is need to know, we can go to interrogation."

Gibbs nodded and at the jerk of his head, his team filed into the elevator once more. Gibbs couldn't help but pray to whatever deity existed that the cameras had picked up something Jenny hadn't.

Team Gibbs filed into the first empty interrogation room they came to, and before he walked in, Gibbs turned to Jenny.

"You can go to your office if you want."

She shook her head.

"Jethro, I don't need to. I can handle this. I've already lived it. Seeing it won't change anything."

"Jen—"

"Go," she said gently, giving him a soft push.

Considering her for a moment, he nodded, though it was against his better judgment. He shut the door and Jenny stood outside in the observation room, more to keep onlookers out than to actually observe. Pressing play on the remote, the slightly grainy footage started to play and Gibbs frowned as Jenny came into view. He really wasn't sure he could handle watching this, and as the man behind her approached her, he paused the video.

"McGee, is there any way to enhance this and get an ID?"

The younger agent frowned, leaning closer.

"I can enhance it, but it won't give me an ID. His face is covered."

Gibbs sighed and resumed the feed. Jenny's arm was roughly grabbed at the wrist and Gibbs now understood why she froze every time someone touched her that way. As her body was thrown to the ground, he had to force himself to keep watching, and when Tony spoke up, his voice was tight.

"Boss, do we have to keep watching this? I don't think we're going to find anything."

Gibbs shook his head once, his eyes hard.

"Keep looking. We might get a glimpse of him as he leaves."

Jenny's head bounced off the pavement as her attacker's hand connected with her face and as one of his hands wrapped around her throat, the other pinned her wrists above her head. To her credit, she never stopped fighting, and it appeared she had very nearly overpowered him. Finally, it was over and as Gibbs stopped the video, he raised wet eyes to his team.

Tears filled every eye in the room, and as he blinked, Tony wiped his face furiously.

"I can't believe someone could do that to anyone. Let alone Jenny."

No one corrected his use of her given name and Gibbs fixed them all with a hard glare.

"I don't care how, but find me that son of a bitch that did this to her. Now!"

He stormed out of the room, and when the door slammed behind him, they all jumped.

Gibbs opened the door to the observation room and frowned. Jenny was nowhere in sight and he turned, wondering where she could have gone. As his hand touched the handle, he noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. Curled up in the farthest corner of the room, her knees to her chest and eyes tightly closed, was Jenny. He walked to her and knelt down, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Jen?"

She jumped at his touch, and he faintly heard the door open behind him. Holding up his hand, he signaled to his team to stay where they were and he turned his attention back to the redhead in front of him.

"Jen, it's okay. It's over now."

She was trembling and her eyes still remained shut. He ran his fingers through her hair, trying to think of any way to calm her.

"Jen, come on. Let's get you out of here."

Finally, her eyes opened and the look she gave him was heartbreaking. He helped her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her and leading her to the door. He could feel his team watching them and as he passed Tony, he paused.

"Find him."

Tony groaned as they went over the video feed again, rubbing his eyes furiously.

"We've gone over this at least fifteen times. We're not going to find anything."

"Did you see her? In the conference room with Gibbs? I've never seen the Director look that upset."

"Well, to be fair, she did just relive the worst physical trauma of her life, Probilicious. You'd be upset, too."

Ziva nodded.

"She's most likely experiencing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Where'd she go?"

"With Gibbs."

Ziva sighed and ran a hand through her hair. This was going to be a long night.

As he walked down his basement steps, Gibbs frowned. He'd last seen Jenny when he'd helped her to his bedroom and when he'd opened his eyes after dozing off, she'd been gone. A soft clink told him she was in the room and he smiled as she came into view.

"Jen? What are you doing down here?"

She shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep. Needed a drink."

He nodded and made his way to her. She leaned against the skeleton of his boat and as she took a long drink, she frowned.

"Why did this happen to me, Jethro?"

Her words were slurred and he stepped closer.

"What's wrong with me?"

Another drink and her glass was empty. She didn't bother pouring another, instead tipping the bottle back. As she stumbled, he gently reached out and took the bourbon from her hand, setting in on the table.

"Nothing's wrong with you, Jenny. Not about you. You didn't do anything wrong."

She laughed, a low a bitter sound, and he reached for her before she could fall.

"I fucked up, Jethro. This is all my fault."

He shook his head, releasing his hold on her shoulder and she reached for the bourbon again.

"No, you didn't. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's not your fault."

She drained the bottle of bourbon and ran her hand along the wood of his boat. Her pale skin was slightly flushed and he knew that if he could see her eyes, they would be bright with alcohol. Stepping down from the boat, she landed roughly in his arms, laughing lightly as she looked up at him.

"Jethro?"

He stared down at her, cocking an eyebrow in question.

"I think I'm drunk."

A single nod was his only indication that he'd heard her, and he carefully steered her toward the steps. She was unsteady on her feet and as she staggered next to him, he sighed, picking her up before she could seriously injure herself. Her head fell back as she laughed and when they reached the top of his steps, he set her down slowly.

The force of the alcohol hit her and her eyes widened.

"Jethro..."

He knew without a doubt that she was going to be sick and he frowned.

"Do you need help?"

She shook her head slowly and stumbled towards his bathroom. He made his way to the kitchen, searching for a glass for water, and a loud thud caused him to turn.

"Jen?"

"M'fine," she murmured, holding her head in her hand as she walked.

As soon as she made it to the cool tile, she fell to her knees, crawling over to the porcelain and as she emptied the contents of her stomach, she coughed. Finally, she toppled over, curling onto her side next to the bathtub and moaned. Her stomach lurched and before she could move more than turning on her side, she had vomited again, not even noticing that Gibbs had entered the room. Her eyes closed and she gave in to the blackness that had until now only danced around the edges of her mind.

Gibbs sighed as he looked down at the unconscious redhead in his bathroom, thankful that his stomach was not easily disturbed. He reached over and flushed the toilet, bending over to carefully lift Jenny into his arms. He placed her gently into the tub and searched the cabinet under his sink for the bleach he always kept for cleaning purposes. Setting about the task of cleaning, he allowed the scent of bleach to dull his senses to anything other than the towel in his hand. Once he was finished, he reached over to turn on the water in his bathtub, climbing in to sit behind Jenny.

He carefully dipped a clean cloth into the warm water and began cleaning the vomit from her long red hair, taking care not to move her too much. He removed her now-wet clothing and when he was satisfied with the cleanliness of her body and hair, he lifted her out, wrapping her in a soft towel. He carried her up to his bedroom, digging around until he'd found an old NIS shirt to clothe her in and after checking his phone to make sure it was fully charged, he climbed into the bed next to her, pulling her body close to his. He kissed her damp hair lightly and smiled sadly at her unconscious form.

"I'm so sorry, Jen. You deserve better than this. I love you."

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, Jenny moaned, bringing her hand to her head. It was painful to touch and she frowned. How had she ended up in Jethro's bed, in his clothes no less? She looked to her right and when she saw the former marine sleeping next to her, she smiled. Even in sleep, his hold on her hadn't loosened and she reached out to touch his face lightly.

Her mouth was unbelievably dry and she tried to untangle herself from his arms, only to have his grip tighten.

"Jethro, let me up," she whispered, kissing his cheek.

He blinked as he was pulled from his sleep and stared at her groggily.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm going to get some water," she explained.

He shook his head.

"I'll do it. You might have a concussion."

Before she could protest, he had swung his legs over the side and gone to the adjoining bathroom. She heard the tap running and when he returned seconds later with a glass, she accepted it gratefully.

"What did you mean about a concussion?"

He smirked.

"You don't remember, do you?"

She shook her head and when her damp hair stuck to her cheek, she frowned.

"Jethro...why is my hair wet?"

He laughed and gestured to her glass.

"Take a drink. I'll fill you in."

She raised it to her lips and fought the urge to moan in relief as the liquid coated her dry throat.

"What do you remember?"

"I went down to your basement because I couldn't sleep. Had a few glasses of bourbon."

"More than a few."

The glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement and she frowned.

"What?"

"Jen, you drank an entire bottle of bourbon," he laughed, "I carried you upstairs. When I went to get a drink, you literally walked into the door of my bathroom. Then proceeded to throw up everything in your stomach. You passed out in your own vomit."

To say she was embarrassed would have been an understatement and even in the dark, he could see the blush on her skin.

"I got everything cleaned up and brought you up here."

"Oh, God...I—I'm so sorry, Jethro."

He waved her apology away, flashing her a smile.

"If it's any consolation, you probably won't have a hangover. No alcohol left in your system."

She nodded slowly, still mortified by her actions and buried her face in her hands.

"Do you remember talking to me?"

Searching the haze of her mind, Jenny slowly nodded.

"I remember that, but I don't remember what I said."

He took her hand in his, looking at her seriously.

"You told me that you thought this was your fault."

She nodded, unable to meet his piercing gaze. She still didn't remember the conversation, but the thought had been circling around her mind for the better part of five days.

"It's not your fault, Jen."

Jenny sighed, and when he opened his arms, she fell into them. She was silent for a long moment and when she finally spoke, her voice was low and slightly sarcastic.

"I guess I couldn't handle watching that video after all."

He kissed her gently, running a finger over her cheek.

"I should have never let you. I'm sorry."

Jenny rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was strong and steady, a stark contrast to her own which seemed to always be faltering, and she sighed. He kissed her hair and ran his fingers through the still-drying strands, admiring the way it curled slightly. She so rarely wore her hair naturally and he thought it was a damn shame. The loose curl was beautiful to him and as he held her more securely, he smiled.

"Jen?"

"Hm?"

Her voice was soft and he could tell it wouldn't be long before she was asleep again.

"You're absolutely beautiful. Even when you're wasted beyond belief."

"Thanks, I think," she laughed, "and seriously...thank you for tonight."

She placed a light kiss on his lips and he smirked.

"Get some sleep, Jen. You're safe here."

Just as he was about to close his eyes, her voice filled the silence of the room and he glanced down at her.

"Jethro?"

"Yeah?"

"Have I told you that I love when you call me Jen?"

He smirked and shifted so that they were both more comfortable. Her eyes were closed, and as he kissed her forehead, a soft smile graced her lips.

"Yeah. Might've mentioned it before."

McGee smirked as Tony jerked awake at the sound of the elevator doors opening. They'd been working all night trying to find something, anything to help their latest case and had so far turned up nothing. Gibbs and Jenny exited the lift and when the silver-haired agent placed a cup of coffee on his desk, McGee smiled in surprise.

"Thank you, boss."

He said nothing about the four other cups, but when one was placed on both Ziva's and Tony's desks, he understood. Jenny reached for the last one, smiling at Gibbs as she made her way up the steps towards the catwalk. She seemed better than she had the last time he'd seen her, but after the scene in the observation room the previous day, McGee was nearly one hundred percent certain she was merely putting on a brave face.

"Where's Ziva?"

"Restroom, boss. Should be back any second."

"I am here," came the distinct accented voice of the former Mossad agent.

"You making any progress with that tattoo?"

She shook her head.

"Believe it or not, most people don't like it when you demand to see if they have tattoos out of the red."

McGee smirked and Tony sighed.

"Out of the blue, Ziva."

"Boss, um...how's the Director?"

Gibbs fixed McGee with a puzzled look and McGee frowned.

"Well, I—I just meant that...well, after yesterday, she seemed pretty upset, and..." McGee trailed off, feeling more than a little embarrassed.

"She's fine," Gibbs said with a grin, "Now, get to work. Help Ziva. DiNozzo! I want the logs from security. ASAP."

Tony nodded, barely suppressing a yawn and Gibbs grabbed his coffee, heading for the elevator. If anyone could help him now, it was the doctor in autopsy.

"Ah, Jethro! Good morning. How may I help you?"

Gibbs smiled as he watched Ducky pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Care to do a psychological profile for me?"

"Jennifer?"

Gibbs nodded and Ducky frowned, shaking his head.

"She won't be pleased."

Shrugging, Gibbs took a long drink from his cup.

"She vomited all over my bathroom last night. I don't really care if she'll be pleased."

Now the doctor looked concerned.

"Is she alright?"

Gibbs smirked and Ducky added two spoonfuls of sugar to his tea, sipping it thoughtfully.

"Yeah. Just had too much bourbon."

Ducky placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder, meeting his blue eyes seriously. He knew that it wasn't something that he wanted to hear, but he needed to voice his opinion.

"Jethro, you might not like this, but Jennifer may need more help than you can give her."

Gibbs shook his head, taking a step back.

"She's getting help. Nothing and no one will hurt her again, and I'm gonna help her through this. If you won't do the profile on her, will you at least talk to her? She trusts you, and she'll open up to you."

The doctor nodded, his eyes sad. Gibbs held his gaze for another few seconds before turning to the door. As they slid shut behind him, Ducky sighed, drinking his tea in silence for a moment. He had no idea whether the younger woman would confide in him, but he supposed it couldn't hurt to try. Staring at the place Gibbs had previously occupied, Ducky ran his hand over his face before setting down his cup of tea.

"She might trust me, Jethro...but she loves you."

A/N: So, interesting fact: I'm writing a lot of this from my own personal experience of being raped, but in my case it was someone I knew and trusted. So it's been difficult delving into those emotions even seven years later. Also, Jenny's drunken night was inspired by one that I had last Friday night, except my husband wasn't nearly as caring as Gibbs. He did check to make sure I hadn't drowned in my bathtub, at least. I still have a bruise from falling and running into my bathroom door frame, though. Oops. Anyway, please review!