A/N: Enjoy the new chapter! Thank you, my faithful betareader but above all, my love. Thank you darling.

One week later

Director Jennifer Sheppard was feeling rather silly as she stared at the plastic stick, waiting for any kind of reaction.

"Jen, you went down the hole?"

"How charming, Jethro. No, I'm waiting."

"Can't we wait together?"

"Of course." She took the test from the sink and opened the door. Gibbs was sitting on her office's settee, and despite his apparent relaxation, she could feel his anxiety.

"How long?" He asked as she sat by his side.

"About four minutes."

"Hasn't it been that long yet? You were locked in there for almost ten!"

"Barely two minutes, Jethro."

"Who says so?"

"My watch."

"And is it set?"

"It is."

An uncomfortable silence settled for the last minute of waiting. Gibbs' hand slid onto Jenny's and their fingers entwined.

"It should be showing something by now…" Jenny noticed as the only visible bar in the test remained solitaire.

"One means…"

"No baby. At least, no baby showing up yet." She heard a hint of disappointment in her own voice.

"So, that's not… entirely bad, is it?"

"No, it's not. And… well, it has been barely more than a week, hasn't it?" Jenny forced a smile. "Even trying as hard as we have…"

"When should we test again? Three or four days?"

"Yeah, something like that."

Gibbs pulled her until her head was lying against his chest. "Feeling sad?"

"No… I mean… Right, it was stupid, it was foolish of me to think we'd get a positive result right on the first try." Jenny tried to get up but his tight hold prevented her.

"Don't chastise yourself so much, Jen. It's perfectly normal for you, for us, to be expectant."

"I know. It's just-"

"This is one of those things you simply can't be in control of. For once in your life, let things happen."

Her sigh told him more than anything she could have said. Trying to soothe her, his fingers found a strand of her hair and toyed with it for a while, until they were interrupted by the ringing of his mobile phone.

"We really need to get rid of these things one day," he snapped while searching for the offensive device in his jacket's pockets. "Gibbs…. On my way." He switched off promptly. "Got to go…"

"What happened?"

"Another dead woman at Quantico." Gibbs didn't ever bother to hide how much the case had been getting on his nerves. One week, third corpse found and they barely had anything they could call a clue. It was rare for his team to take so long to catch someone.

"Where was she found this time?"

"Right in the vestibule of the Marine Corps Combat Development Command. They're getting even more audacious."

"Overconfidence usually leads to mistakes."

"I know."

Jenny moved away from his hold, letting him rise to his feet.

"Have to go. See you later. And don't think about this too much."

"I don't intend to."

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before heading towards the door. Jenny closed it after him and returned to the settee, grabbing the discarded negative test. Carefully, she wrapped it in toilet paper before tossing it in the rubbish bin. Not that she was suspicious, but the cleaning staff had nothing to do with her private life.

"Here we are again," Tony said, voicing the entire team's thoughts as they crossed the gates of the Quantico Base once more.

"I'm getting sick and tired of this guy," Ziva said, more to herself than to her colleagues.

Gunnery Sergeant Andersen was waiting for them one more time at the base's main entrance. His stern look left no doubts about what was crossing his mind at the moment.

"Third victim, Agent Gibbs. You better find something this time. Are you aware how unstable life and morale have become on this base?"

Gibbs didn't answer directly. "Have you come up with an ID sooner this time?"

"Clarice Murphy."

"Husband's rank and post."

"Lieutenant Dwaine Murphy, currently overseas on the USNS K. L. Llewellyn."

"Anything relevant or different this time?"

"I thought it was your job to-"

"Anything?"

"No."

"So, why are we here wasting time?"

"Very well. I'll take you to the crime scene." They all let him walk ahead, following closely but not enough for him to hear them.

"Three victims, Ducky. I suppose that now he can qualify as a serial killer," Gibbs remarked bitterly.

"I'm afraid so, Jethro."

"The way the guy moves still bugs me," Tony pointed out. "C'mon, this is a crowded Marine's base, how the hell nobody ever sees a man dragging a body, even during the night?"

"We can't even assume that he drags them," McGee added. "Maybe they're not already dead when he places them…"

"No, Timothy. Lividity is consistent with movement a few moments after death occurs," Ducky said categorically.

Lost in their thoughts, they arrived at the Marine Corps Combat Development Command building. The two privates flanking the door moved hastily aside when Andersen arrived.

"Here," he pointed needlessly to the lying shape on the floor, right on the vestibule's centre. Even at that distance, they could see the victim was left at the same position as the others before. Same blonde and dishevelled hair in what had once been a French Twist, same type of clothes.

"We're going to need the surveillance tapes from this building," McGee told to Andersen as his eyes quickly spotted the cameras in the room. All he got was a dry nod for an answer.

At the same time, Ducky and Palmer were busy around the body, while a bright light flashing every ten seconds indicated that Ziva was throwing the case's frustrations on the photographic camera.

"You probably have already heard me saying this," Ducky said, "Defensive wounds on her arms and hands and nothing else at naked eye. Dilated pupils. Based on the last victims, I would say this young lady also died of atropine poisoning, but again, we need to wait for the tox screen."

"Nothing new?" Gibbs dared to ask, dreading the answer.

"No, Jethro. Unfortunately not."

"Ok. DiNozzo?"

"Yes, Boss?"

"Go interview their neighbours, since her husband isn't in the country. Take Ziva with you."

"Right. On my way."

"McGee?"

"I've already requested the footage from this area, indoor and outdoor."

"Get it quickly and start watching it."

"Sure."

Gibbs went back near the body where Ducky was carefully removing the thermometer. "Eight to twelve hours anew," he passed the thermometer to Palmer. "I know that look, Jethro."

"What look?"

The doctor rose up. "Restless. Very similar to the one you had on when you were chasing Ari." Gibbs expression told him it was better not to go that way.

Ducky stared at him but eventually gave up, knowing it was worthless, and turned back. "Mr Palmer, there's nothing else we can do. You can bag her now."

"Cynthia?"

"Yes, madam?" came the voice of her assistant from the other side of the phone.

"Are Agent Gibbs and his team back yet?"

"Yes they are, madam," Cynthia was grateful that the Director wasn't able to see her tiny smile. She had always asked that, but not as often as during the past week. "I believe they're down at the lab."

"Ok. Thank you." Jenny hung up the phone and went back to work. Or at least she tried to. Her concentration that morning seemed to be everywhere but on the reports in front of her. Despite her efforts not to worry about the test, it was being hard to put it away from her mind.

A week and a couple of days was a very short amount of time, she was perfectly aware of that. But her silly hope that it could come back positive had taken over her almost unconsciously. And she couldn't even tell if her menstruation was late or not since, without taking the birth control pill, she had always been irregular at most.

"Shit," she muttered, tossing the file on her desk. "Great work, Jenny. Now you can't even work."

Her fingers went to the discarded file and she opened it again, adjusting her spectacles. A sigh escaped from her as she searched again for the line she had been reading a minute ago. Thankfully, that was the last paragraph. She scribbled her signature mechanically at the bottom of the sheet and threw it at the pile on her right, instantly grabbing another from the pile at her left. A grin appeared at her lips when she read the name of the agent who had written that report. Anthony DiNozzo was sure that she had no idea about the latest bet running through the agency. But she had always been much more informed that he thought and knowing that her agents have been wasting their wages that way had afforded her a some amusement. And DiNozzo certainly didn't know that, if it wasn't for her, he would be at the hospital recovering from a concussion caused by a harder than usual headslap.

Gibbs too had been hopeful about the test. Even more that she would have expected. But for him time didn't have the same meaning as for her… Jenny shook her head. She had promised to herself that those thoughts were over. But even so, she wanted the answer as quickly as possible. She had to try a test per day.

A new thought crossed her mind. She almost berated herself for not remembering it already. A blood test. A blood test would give her a more accurate result. And all she had to do was take the lift to the Autopsy Room. But then she saw the flaw in her idea. It would probably also show what she didn't want anyone else to know.

Jenny leaned back on her large chair. There could be a way of doing it without taking unnecessarily risks. It would require some scheming, but it was doable.

"English please, Abs."

Abby took a deep breath and explained it all again, leaving out the periodic table and the chemical nomenclature. "Clarice Murphy died of atropine poison just like the other victims, Gibbs. But this time, I could take a better sample from the poison. And I can tell you, our killer is using rotten atropine."

"What do you mean?" Tony asked. "He forgot to check the 'best before' date?"

"You can say that. The atropine was in a very deteriorated state."

"And the samples from the other victims?" Gibbs proceeded.

"Well, I couldn't isolate a sample as good as the one I took from Clarice Murphy. But I can cross the chemicals elements from every sample and see if I get a match."

"Do it."

"Why you weren't able to take a better sample from the first two?" Ziva asked. "If they were killed and found roughly at the same time… Shouldn't there be the same amount of poison in their blood?"

"Yes. But that's not carved in stone, I mean… Clarice Murphy probably had a slower metabolism, so her body absorbed enough atropine to kill her, but not all of it."

"A clue, at last. I had nothing from the vigilance tapes." said McGee .

"What? The woman was dropped right in the middle of the vestibule!" Tony blurted out. "It was indoors this time."

"And an inside job. The camera goes black at around 2200."

"How's that possible? And nobody finds it weird?"

"I talked to every person in charged of the footage vigilance. That camera had been given a few troubles and was going to be replaced this week. Nobody cared when it switched off."

"How convenient…"

"McGee's right," Gibbs interrupted. "This is an inside job."

"Not that anyone thought otherwise," Ziva added. "But we still don't know how he picks his victims… As far as we know, they have nothing in common…"

"Blonde hair," Tony pointed.

"Did Clarice Murphy's neighbours or friends say anything about the clothes she was found with?"

"No, Boss. Like the other two, the clothes weren't hers and they don't recall ever seeing her with a French Twist. The guy certainly holds a grudge against the fifties, either that or some sick cherished love."

"This is what intrigues me the most. The clothes, the hair, the make-up…" Ziva thought for a few seconds. "Can it be applied when the atropine began to show its effects?"

"Don't think so. It causes so many side-effects, like nausea, blurred vision, photophobia, and in many cases, hallucinations," Abby assured. "Hard stuff."

"Abby, what is atropine used in?" Gibbs recalled.

"Lots of things. Even in eye products."

"Great. Let's confiscate every contact lens case and eye drops in the Base…"

"Not that, DiNozzo. But Probie's going to ask for a warrant and we're going back to Quantico and search for any old atropine."

"What, right now? What about lunch?"

"Grab some snack and eat during our way."

Jimmy Palmer, waiting, turned another page of the magazine. As he heard the sound of the door sliding he hurriedly hid it in the desk's drawer.

"I'm sorry, Dr Mallard, but there's nothing to do and-" he cut himself short when he saw who had actually entered. "Director Sheppard. Dr Mallard is…"

"Having his lunchtime. I know that." Reliable Ducky was always eating at this hour.

"So…"

"It's you I wanted to talk to." Jenny smiled kindly at his confusion.

"Me?" Palmer sounded even more perplexed.

"Yes. Can I have a seat?"

"Yes, of course."

She sat by the desk with Palmer on the other chair.

"What can I do for you, Director?"

"A blood test," she said simply.

"A blood test?" he repeated, surprised.

"Yes."

"Is everything alright, madam?"

"It is."

"Are you sure you don't want to wait for Dr Mallard? I'm a medical trainee, I don't usually - '"

"I am. I just need you to take the blood."

"But Dr Mallard would certainly…"

"Let's leave Ducky out of this, shall we?"

Palmer nodded, still thinking that the Director was acting very oddly. He just hoped she was not getting him in trouble, even if she was the chief. He rose from his chair and went to the drawers where the medical equipment was stored, returning with a syringe and a tourniquet.

"Which arm?"

Jenny rolled up the sleeve from her left arm, since she was right-handed.

"Too tight?" Palmer asked, fastening the tourniquet and looking for her veins.

"No, that's ok." The needle pierced her forearm and the blood began to flow into the plastic tube.

"Please hold this, madam," Palmer said as he pressed a piece of cotton over the needle. She did so and he removed the needle, then waited a bit before unfastening the tourniquet as well.

Jenny rubbed her forearm, still holding the cotton over the tiny puncture. "There's no need for that," she said resolutely as she saw Palmer on the other side of the room, preparing to print a label to the test.

"With all due respect madam, but a few months ago there was some confusion about incorrectly labelled exams, so I-"

"There's no need for that," she repeated sternly.

Palmer suppressed the urge to shrug his shoulders and once more pleaded that it wouldn't get him into trouble. "And now?"

"Just give it to me. I'll take it to the lab."

He handed her the stoppered vial, asking no more questions.

"Thank you."

Abby rarely took lunch breaks, and with Gibbs and his team out, Jenny could be sure she was alone. None of the other teams hovered around her lab as much as Gibbs'. And the head banging music could be heard almost from the Autopsy room, which was a guaranteed sign that no-one else would be there.

As expected, she found her sitting in front of the main computer. Resisting to the urge to switch off the music, Jenny tried to call her.

"Abby?" Her voice was no match for the insanely loud music. The second "Abby?" had no answer either, so her finger went to the audio device, turning it off.

Abby promptly turned on her chair. "Who the hell… Director!?" Her reaction was not very different from Palmer's, making Jenny wonder about her reputation.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Abby. Are you busy?"

"Yes. I mean… No… Well, maybe a bit… but not for you, Director."

"I need to ask you a favour."

"A favour?" Abby wasn't quick enough at hiding her reluctance. The last time the Director had asked a favour from her, she had spent her Saturday running a search that the other woman later tried to erase.

"Yes." Jenny showed her the vial. "Run this for me."

Abby stared at the vial. "Blood?"

"Yes. Mine."

"Is… is everything alright?"

"Yes." As with Palmer, Jenny didn't know if she was lying or not. "Just do it for me, will you?"

"Of course. Regular blood test?"

"No. There's no need to waste money. Just run it for one thing."

"What's that?"

"HCG."

Abby eyes opened wide. "Human chorionic gonadotropin?" she heard herself saying.

"Yes."

"That's a…"

"I know."

Abby nodded silently and headed towards the balcony, where she searched for the adequate chemicals to add to the blood.

"And… Abby?"

"Not a word about it. Right?"

"Yes."

"It's going to take a couple of hours. I'll tell you as soon as I get the results."

"I'll be in my office the entire afternoon." Jenny went over to Abby, who was programming the centrifuge. "Thank you."

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