Disclaimer: Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne, the bane of my existence (and of the other Tiva fans). Come on already, get rid of her! If NCIS was mine, she would be gone in a heartbeat.

A/N This is my first time writing Jenny, so I'm not sure how she turned out. I know a lot of people don't particularly like her, but I've tried not to take other's opinions into consideration when writing this. We haven't seen a lot of her background. Pretty much all we've seen is her and Gibbs in France and the whole debacle with The Frog, so I've tried to keep it believable as much as possible. She is human after all and I don't think she's a particularly horrible person (although Season Four may have altered my view). Also there is one flashback later on in the chapter that may disturb some people. It does insinuate some pretty powerful stuff, but is still appropriate for this rating. Just warning you in advance.

And as always, a big thank you to my beta, Kandon Kuuson. I couldn't do it without you, Jems :)

"True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it be lost." - Charles Caleb Colton
Chapter Nine: Did I Ever Thank You?

Present time – Bethesda Naval Hospital

Her heels clanked on the tiles of the hospital floor as she walked up the hallway of Bethesda's Intensive Care Unit. She strode purposely and determinately . . . she was a woman on a mission. Pausing in front of the reception desk, she pulled out her badge and flashed it at the receptionist.

"Jennifer Shepard, Director of NCIS," Jenny demanded.

"NCIS?" the receptionist questioned, looking perplexed.

"Naval Criminal Investigate Service," Jenny snapped irritably. 'Call yourself a naval hospital,' she thought and then spoke up. "I wish to see Officer Ziva David. Which room is she in?"

"Err . . ."

"Which room is she in?" Jenny repeated slowly and precisely, resisting the urge to go all Gibbs on the receptionist and Gibbslap her.

The receptionist studied Jenny's outstretched badge for a moment. Jenny sighed.

"I am the Director of NCIS, a federal agency," she emphasised director and federal.

"Room one-oh-two," the receptionist finally relented, "down the hall and on your right." She pointed in the direction Jenny had come.

"Thank you," Jenny muttered, more out of habit than anything else.

Turning away from the reception desk, Jenny headed back in the direction she came. Absentmindedly, Jenny's right ring finger's nail made its way into her mouth, a habit she thought she had kicked after becoming Director of NCIS. She let her subconscious nibble on the nail for a moment, before hastily pulling it out of her mouth. Glancing at the now shortened nail, Jenny heard Ziva's voice in her head.

'Why do you insist on chewing your nails?' Ziva had asked during one of their earlier missions.

'Not sure really,' Jenny shrugged, 'nervous habit, I guess.'

'Nervous habit?" Ziva looked confused.

'Never mind,' Jenny laughed.

Reaching room one-oh-two, Jenny's right hand hovered over the doorknob. She reached for it, but then pulled away as if she had been electrocuted.

'What's wrong with you,' Jenny scolded herself mentally. 'You are here to check on one of your subordinates, there's nothing wrong with that.'

'But it's more than that,' other voice said. 'You worked closely together since 2002. You're close friends.'

'Were close friends,' Jenny amended. 'I've barely socialised with her since she moved to DC. The job, it's demanding. We've grown apart.'

'Then un-grow apart,' the voice said. 'Now is the perfect time. Go!'

Jenny reached for the doorknob for a second time and this time she turned it all the way. Letting out a breath, she carefully pushed open the door and slipped into room one-oh-two.

"Ducky," Jenny mentioned as she slipped into the room, though she was un-surprised to see NCIS's Medical Examiner sitting next to Ziva.

"Director," Ducky said, smiling softly at her as he rose from the chair, always the gentleman, "I presume you are here to check on her status?" Ducky gestured to Ziva with his hand.

"Something like that," Jenny replied, looking at Ziva in slight horror. A small, almost inaudible 'Oh, God' left her lips. Ducky picked up on this and gently placed a hand on her arm.

"She's strong, Director."

"You don't think I know that," Jenny snapped and immediately regretted it. She ran a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry, Ducky."

"There is no need to apologise, my dear," Ducky assured her. "We are all on edge and it's guaranteed that we are all going to get a little snappy."

"But I shouldn't have snapped at you." Jenny looked downcast.

"It's nothing I'm not used to, Director," Ducky replied, a minute grin on his face. "I do work with Jethro."

Jenny managed a small smile. "Do you know . . . have you talked . . . how is . . ." She looked slightly embarrassed as she changed her question so it all became a muddled mess. Ducky knew in an instant what she was talking about, just by the look on her face.

"Jethro is fine," Ducky stated calmly. "Stressed, but fine."

Jenny nodded, trying to process her thoughts. "Good, that's good."

"Haven't you talked to him?" Ducky inquired, shifting closer to the door.

"Yes, but . . ." Jenny trailed off helplessly. Ducky gave her a look of encouragement and Jenny continued, "he was updating me on the case and, well, you know what he's like."

Ducky nodded at her knowingly. "Yes, I do. He hides his feelings under his work I'm afraid, quite an interesting psychological trait in men." Ducky sounded like he was going to ramble into one of his stories so Jenny interjected.

"Other than that," Jenny searched for the right word, "emotionless update, I've been pretty busy."

"How so?"

"I had Tel Aviv screaming at me down the phone for forty five minutes," Jenny sighed, looking defeated. "They wanted to know why Ziva was hospitalised and if they needed to make arrangements."

"Arrangements for what?" Ducky asked, fully knowing what she had meant.

"I'm sure you know," she replied and Ducky nodded affirmatively. "I seriously felt like hanging up on them, but what would that do to the relationship between the agencies. It's already battered enough as it is. Then there was the Israeli Embassy on the phone for another good half hour. At least this time Michael Bashan wasn't so . . . forthright with what he wanted." Jenny sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

"I'll leave you to it," Ducky said abruptly, taking Jenny's hand in his own and squeezing it. "She'll be okay, Director." He smiled at her before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

"I hope you're right, Ducky," Jenny said softly.

Turning to Ziva, Jenny hesitated before making her way over to Ziva's side and sitting down in the chair Ducky had vacated.

"Oh, Ziva, what have you done to yourself this time?" Jenny reluctantly took Ziva's hand into her own.

Flashback

A slightly younger version of Ziva was sitting next to the bed which held a familiar red-haired agent.

"Oh, Jen," Ziva sighed dejectedly, looking at the prone body of Jennifer Shepard. "What did they do to you?"

End Flashback

Jenny was silent for a moment, taking in the sounds of the hospital. Putting her hand on her forehead, she massaged her temples, feeling a headache coming on. They had become a lot more frequent since becoming Director of NCIS. She almost wished Cynthia was here now, handing her an aspirin with water and telling her to take it easy and lie down until it passed. Unfortunately, Jenny never had much of a chance to heed Cynthia's suggestions until she got home.

"I'm sorry, Ziva," Jenny apologised, not only for the fact that she was in hospital, but also because they had drifted apart over the last eighteen months or so.

Flashback

"It's not your fault," Ziva tried to reassure the distressed agent. Jenny had woken up only a few hours ago disorientated and scared out her mind.

"What did they do to me?" she questioned in a small and meek voice.

Ziva hesitated. "I'm not sure . . ."

"I need to know."

"I think," Ziva replied carefully, "that some things are best left unknown."

End Flashback.

"You never did fully tell me what happened," Jenny mentioned, remembering snippets from her hospital stay in Cairo, Egypt. "You really saved my behind out there, you know."

She was replied with the sound of machines.

Jenny sighed. "I don't know what would have happened if you and Adena hadn't come along . . ." She remembered little about what she endured while she was abducted in Cairo in 2003, but the few memories she did have were enough to send her retching in a toilet.

Flashback

"I'll ask you one more time," an unknown terrorist asked her, running the handle of his knife down her bare chest. The shirt she had been wearing at the time and her bra had been discarded long ago. "What do you know?"


"Nothing," Jenny replied defiantly, earning herself a slap across the cheek. "I know nothing."

The terrorist chuckled. "Such bravado, Agent Shepard, pity it won't help you now." He glared menacingly at her and for the rest of the hour, her tortured screams drowned out any other sound.

End Flashback

Jenny flinched at the memory, trying hard to keep her lunch down and resisting the urge to dive into the nearest shower. Maybe Ziva had been right; maybe it was better not to have known the full story . . . blissful oblivion.

"We really should have caught up more," Jenny said regretfully, a moment later. Her nausea had subsided, but her headache remained. "I should have been there more when you first moved here, but I was so busy. You requested your transfer at pretty much the same time I started as NCIS Director. It was chaos. As well as running a federal agency, I was constantly pursued by the media . . . the first female director of a federal agency was big news."

Jenny listened to the constant hum of the monitors and found that after awhile, they were quite comforting. At least she knew Ziva was still alive.

"But that is no excuse," Jenny stated sadly. "I should have made time for an old friend." Looking at her watch, she cursed because she was late for an appointment.

"I am sorry again, Zee," Jenny used Ziva's nickname, the one she hadn't used since the end of their missions. "I hope you can forgive me." Jenny stood to leave, but turned back to Ziva at the last minute.

"Did I ever thank you?" Jenny questioned, knowing subconsciously that she had thanked her a thousand times over. Just to reassure herself that Ziva's loyalty and, more importantly, her friendship had been recognised, Jenny replied, "Toda."