A/N: Sorry everyone, this chapter took longer to be uploaded than I initially thought, but my beta reader has been very busy and so have I. Can't wait for holidays! Anyway love, thank you very much once more, even with your busy schedule you found a way to correct my work.

Gibbs found the house in completely darkness. Not that he had been expecting anything else, since it was four o'clock in the morning. Even so, he hoped that she was actually sleeping in her bed and not on her desk at NCIS headquarters. Not bothering much about proper parking, he just stopped the car in front of her house and got out.

The spare key opened the door and he remembered on time not to be noisy. He closed the door gently and realised that he didn't even need to switch on the lights to be able to go up the stairs without stumbling on something. Barely two weeks practically living in her house and he was already feeling at home.

As in every old house, the steps creaked under his feet despite all his efforts. His hand found the handrail, guiding him through the darkness. With a last creak from the wood, he reached the next floor.

The bedroom door was closed and he turned the doorknob carefully, getting inside. The lamp on her bedside table was switched on and he found a report tossed onto the bed. Smiling, he grabbed it and put it on the bedside table. She had had to take work home.

Gently, so as not to wake her up, he sat onto what was now his side of the bed, his eyes immediately resting on the sleeping woman near him. Concern hit him once more. It had been happening all through the night.

He had ended up agreeing with her mad scheme after all. He knew perfectly well what he was doing and, honestly, he had enjoyed every bit of their reunion. He even chastised himself by not trying it earlier; trying it properly.

The way she rushed things had annoyed him, he could not deny it. But now it had happened. He would become a father again in a few months.

She had gotten worried about his reaction hours ago and he had assured her that everything was fine. And it was. He had played along and he knew the consequences. But he still needed to get used to the idea, in his own time.

Waking her up looked like a very cruel thing to do, as she slept so peacefully. So he just removed his shirt and trousers, switched off the lamp and laid near her, trying to get all the sleep he could.

"Nasty, Probie. I think that sums it up." Tony leant back on his chair. "Ducky and Palmer must be downstairs, having fun with the bones. Kind of a jigsaw for them."

"It was cosy in here, Tony, you know? While you were freezing your arse off in that graveyard, I just stayed here, in the warm bullpen, surrounded by all the chocolate candies in the ven-"

"Yeah, I get the picture. You found anything useful at least?"

"Not really. Just waiting for Gibbs to show up."

Tony gave a quick look to his watch. "Late again, is he?"

"It's not 0800 yet," said Ziva from her desk.

"Are you his defender now?"

"Of course not! What the hell makes you say that?"

Tony bent over his desk. "No, Boss isn't late, no, boss is not banging the Director, no…" he mimicked, exaggerating her speech.

"Do you want the whole bullpen to hear you?"

"Relax, Ziva, everybody thinks the same."

"I'm not the one who needs to relax. It's not me risking my neck right now."

"Spoilsport."

"I think Gibbs will have a different opinion."

"Spoilsport and a squealer, aren't we?"

"Piss off, Tony."

"Can't. I'm nailed to my desk by sheer Duty."

"I'm very sorry to interrupt your cheerful conversation lads, but I need to have a word with Gibbs. And you, of course."

"Join the queue then," Tony replied as he swivelled his chair towards the doctor, who was standing by McGee's desk.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid Gibbs hasn't arrived yet, Ducky," Ziva explained.

"No? But it's already…"

"0758."

"I appreciate the detail, Timothy."

"Anything you can tell us about the body before Gibbs gets here?" Tony asked.

"Well, after fifty years six feet under, I feared that nothing of Miss Andersen had lasted long enough for us."

Ziva's eyes moved away from the computer's screen. "What do you mean? You couldn't take any sample…"

"Blood was out of the question, of course. Luckily, the soil helped a bit. It was dry, preserving the majority of the wooden coffin, so I did find some hairs, which is pretty much what I was hoping for. I'll hand the sample over to Abby as soon as she gets here. Must be arriving, probably."

"That's great. For a moment there I thought we'd dug up the poor girl for no reason," Tony remarked.

"I must return to Autopsy. Will you inform Gibbs when he arrives?"

"Of course. Don't worry, Ducky," McGee assured him.

"And by the time he gets here, maybe we can give him Abby's results too..." sighed Tony as Ducky when to the lift. "I'd go out for a coffee, but last time I did he just came out of nowhere. I don't feel like tempting fate again. Maybe I'll just venture the coffee machine."

"Good idea. Mine's a double."

"Did I offer my services as the coffee boy, Ziva?"

"C'mon, it won't hurt you."

"No, just soak me and burn me if it slips."

"Mine's a double too," added McGee.

Tony rose to his feet. "Your aces then. Yeah, did you really think I was going to support your caffeine vice? C'mon, I want those dimes showing up now."

McGee handed him the money while Ziva tossed hers in his general direction. "Very ladylike."

"Double, don't forget," she answered, pretending she hadn't heard him at all.

"Shit!" was the first thing Gibbs heard.

"What?" he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

"It's 0810 already," came Jenny's reply. "We overslept."

He rose on one elbow, rubbing his face with his other hand, as trying to wipe all the sleep away.

"I can't believe I didn't hear the alarm clock," she went on, speaking more to herself than to him. "I must call Cynthia. Where the hell is my mobile? Have you seen it, Jethro?"

"No."

"I must have left it... somewhere over here," Jenny pulled off every drawer of her bedside table, searching for the missing device. "Shit, where's the damn thing? Ring me, Jethro."

"I've got to find my own first," he complained. As he pulled the covers away, the mobile phone slipped from a fold in the duvet, landing on the floor with a bang.

"Damn, I hope it's not broken," Jenny bent down, grabbing the phone from the floor and trying to switch it on. "It's working!"

"What a pity."

She slapped his arm softly as she looked for her office number. "Cynthia? Yeah, it's me. I'll be late, I'm afraid… No, I intend to be there in an hour, no more… Alright, then." She hung up, turning to Gibbs. "Get up at once."

"You're supposed to calm down now, remember?"

"That doesn't mean skipping work."

"Did you have an important appointment?"

"No. Not today."

"Well, I had. So let me be the one to stress out."

"What're you missing?" Jenny began to rummage through her wardrobe.

"Christine Andersen's autopsy."

"Oh, of course." She appeared in the room again, carrying a white blouse and a black pencil skirt. "How did the exhuma… Wait, you were supposed to wake me up when you got here, weren't you?"

He just shrugged. "You looked so peaceful, I thought it better not to disturb you." He rose from the bed and went to her. Jenny was now rifling through her dresser, looking for a pair of stockings. His arms surrounded her waist, pulling her to him. "But I'm still looking forward for that celebration."

She smiled as his lips hovered over her neck, kissed a sensitive spot, made her moan loudly. "Let me go, Jethro."

His hands found the way to her breasts, considerably reducing her willpower. "C'mon, Jethro…" she heard herself say in her least convincing voice.

He released his hold oh her and stepped back, rising his hands in mock surrender with a smirk playing on his face. "Ok, ok."

Despite herself, Jenny turned around and pulled him back to her, her lips founding his.

"Who's delaying now?" he teased between the kiss.

"Shut up, Jethro. For the first time in my life I'm actually considering calling in sick."

"Really? That's unheard of," he breathed in her neck as his tongue played with her earlobe.

"And I'd make you call in sick too, because there was no way you'd leave me here on my own. But we can't."

He sighed heavily as the realisation of her statement hit him. "I know."

Jenny smiled, her fingers caressing his cheek. "But I never expected you to be so eager about skipping work…"

"It's good to see that I can still surprise you."

Her smile got wider for a few seconds, until she got back to business. "Come on, let's get under the shower. I said I'd be there in an hour."

"Not thinking about skipping breakfast, are you?"

"I'll grab something when I get there."

"On our way is better. You must eat properly."

"Right. On our way then."

"Abigail?"

Abby was taking some printouts from the top of the counter and putting them together. "Ducky!" she said, turning on her feet. "I'm sorry, I'm just tidying up the place a bit, it's getting too messy for me."

"May I?"

"Of course, come in."

"I've got the hair sample from Christine Andersen."

Abby dropped the papers on her desk. "Andersen… which one is that? Oh, right, the exhumed one."

"Yes, indeed," Ducky handed her the hair sample, sealed inside a vial. "I'm rather afraid that fifty years under the ground might have compromised it…"

Abby took the sample and gave it a trained look. "Well, we'll see… and hope it's not." She went to the counter and started mix the hair with some chemicals, cursing under her breath when she noticed she was running low on some. "See? This case is leaving me no time to do things properly." She put the lid back on the vial and moved towards the centrifuge machine, put the vial inside and switched it on. Her eyes fell on a discarded vial of blood sample that was tossed near the machine and her hand instantly reached for it.

"So, Ducky, what did I do to deserve the honour of having you bring the samples to me personally, instead of Jimmy?"

The older man laughed. "I left Mr Palmer in charge of all the paperwork. Believe me, there's lot of it when one is dealing with an exhumation. And kind Mr Palmer has a natural talent for dealing with it, I'm afraid. All I have to do is sign below."

"May I have him too?" Abby asked while securing the vial in her hand, looking around the lab. It would draw too much attention if she just tossed it into the garbage bin with Ducky standing right there. She definitely should have done it the day before, but with all the work from the case and Tony arriving with the atropine sample, she had just taken it off the centrifuge and tossed it aside.

"No, he has exclusivity."

"That's not fair Ducky! I have my share of paperwork too. Especially on court days."

The doctor smiled and prepared his return to the autopsy room. "Well, let's hope the sample is not compromised then."

"I'll tell if it is."

"Thank you, my dear." Ducky was about to turn away when his curiosity got the better of him. "What is that you're holding onto so tightly?"

"This?" Abby tried to look relaxed. "Nothing, just an old blood sample." She flashed the vial quickly just to reassure him.

"Shouldn't it be in the fridge then?"

"Yeah, it should. I'm going to put it there right now."

"Abby?"

"What?"

"That sample is not identified, is it?"

"No, it's not," Abby answered, knowing there was no point in lying.

"Didn't I identify it properly? That can't be, I'm extremely demanding. Did it fall off then? Why didn't you tell me? What case is it from?"

Abigail Sciuto, what a mess your distraction has landed you in, she thought while desperately trying to decide what to do next. "Right Ducky, that's not from a case. But I can't tell you either from where is it from."

"I didn't take that sample, did I?"

"I… don't think so."

"Who did, then? Was it taken here?"

"I don't know," Abby couldn't hold a sigh. "I'm so sorry, Ducky, I hate being this way but I'll get in trouble otherwise. Forgive me."

The doctor quickly dismissed her outburst with a small waving of his hand. "I know and I understand your position."

"Thank you. After all, you've been in my place before."

"Do you mean… Yes, I have." Ducky's suspicions arose. "But… was it Gibbs?"

"I promised I wouldn't say a word. But no, it's not Gibbs."

That left very few other choices in Ducky's mind. Just like him a few months before, there weren't very many people for whom Abby would run an illicit test. Still, he thought against being direct. "Was it Tony?"

"I… I'll just nod, alright? I promised I wouldn't say a word of it so technically speaking I'm not breaking the promise, alright?"

"Yes. Tony?"

Abby shook her head negatively.

"McGee then?"

Same answer.

"I doubt it was Ziva… The Director?"

Abby closed her eyes and nodded.

"What was she testing for?"

"Ducky, please! I already feel like a… like… I don't know, a traitor!"

"Very well then." Abby noticed how concern was now marking his features. Concern, and... something else she couldn't identify.

"You're not going to… to tell her, are you?"

"No, don't worry. Your name won't come up."

"But she'll know it was me anyway!"

"Leave her with me, Abigail. You have nothing to worry about."

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