A/N: Thanks to all of my reviewers for their kind comments, I'm very grateful! Oh, and as for the Jibbs/no Jibbs dilemma, I have yet to make up my mind…although I did love the idea of finishing off both, and keeping gibbs for myself! We can but hope…
Jenny Shepherd was in a very, very bad mood. And embarrassed. And her feet hurt, and she had aching muscles in her arms, and now she had a smashed windscreen, dented bonnet, and glass all over the front seats of her car. The rock, she had decided, was probably her worst idea yet. Worse still, she had had to call a cab to work, and had been hiding in various places at NCIS all morning in an attempt to avoid having to explain the mess her car was in to Jethro, who had actually witnessed the scene on 22nd Street. Still, at least the previous scratches were healing, and the car exhaust burn was gone, with no scarring. At least that was one bright spot in an otherwise terrible morning.
"Do you think Jenny's car is going to be able to be fixed?"
Gibbs looked up from his desk, to see Hollis leaning over, watching him. A nice view, but disconcerting; her sudden interest in Jenny Shepherd was unnerving him.
"Well?"
He sighed.
"I don't know, Hol. That was a pretty big rock, and lucky it didn't hit anyone. It could've hit you, considering how close you were," he mused, half speaking to his desk. "The real question is, what was she doing on 22nd Street in the first place?"
"Returning library books?"
"Yeah, Hol," he muttered, sarcasm creeping in. "Because that's what the Director of NCIS does before she comes to work."
"People have a life, you know. Well, maybe not you, but…" she tailed off, and left her perch on the edge of his desk, deciding that this conversation was better carried on later. Or, more likely, not at all.
"Director? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Cynthia, thank you."
"It's just, you were in the bathroom for half an hour this morning, and Special Agent Gibbs has been looking for you. Are you sick, or anything?"
"No, I'm fine, really. And tell him…tell him I'm busy," Jenny instructed her assistant, then hung up. Fantastic, just fantastic. Mann is still alive, my car is completely screwed, and now Jethro is looking for me, probably wanting to know what I was doing.
"Jen?"
Dammit!
"Ah, Jethro. Yes, I'm very busy at the moment, so you'll have to come back later, just leave the files on my desk, and I'll get-"
"What were you doing on 22nd Street?"
Once, just once, Jenny mused. It would be so nice if he could just let things be.
"I was – ah – I was – I was posting a letter."
"There aren't any post boxes, and why didn't you do it here?"
Oh, for the love of God, why?
"Hand delivered."
"To who?"
Would he just, please, once, stop prying?
"Somebody I know," she replied shortly, in a tone that said 'end of conversation'. Gibbs opened his mouth to ask more questions, but seemed to think the better of it. She decided to try and get rid of him, fast.
"Well, I'll see you some-"
"Jen?" Gibbs asked, sounding as close to being tentative as he ever was. "Is everything OK?"
She sucked in a breath. What did he know? Was he on to her? No, impossible, she had been so careful – apart from the car incident – there was no way he knew.
"I'm fine," she told him, in a curt, clipped tone that she hoped would get him out of her office.
He hesitated at the door, turning one last time to look at her, before he left.
Phew. I'm going to have to come up with another, better idea, before this gets out of hand…
As Gibbs stormed into the bullpen, his path was blocked by a clearly angry Hollis, waving a stapler around and waxing lyrical about swimming pools to his team, who were looking, well, disturbed.
"And all I wanted was to take my niece in, and would they let me? No! OK, so my swimming isn't amazing, but I'm unlikely to drown, and she's twelve, for God's sake! The whole system is just-"
"Uh, Colonel Mann? Having some anger-management issues?"
At the sound of his voice, Hollis wheeled around to face him, still angry about whatever swimming pool mishap had taken place.
"Ah, Agent Gibbs, I'm…I'm fine. I wanted to take my niece swimming, and the pool was holding some stupid class, so I couldn't, and I was…" She trailed off at the sight of Gibbs' eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hairline.
"Right. Well, we have a job to do, and it doesn't involve swimming pools, so…"
Above the team, on the steps outside her office, Jenny smiled to herself. Swimming pool. Lake. Cold water. Perfect.