A/N: Thank you all once more for all the kind reviews. Cheers everyone!

"Enjoying the view?" Jenny leant on the balustrade, joining Gibbs instead of walking to her office. "We really should get some work done today, you know?"

"Look at them," said Gibbs, nodding at his team. "I get a bit late and that lot starts acting like they're on vacation." Jenny suppressed the urge to smile.

Tony was leaning on his chair, arms folded behind his head while his eyes were focused on something going on in his screen. Something that, knowing him, could only be a movie. Across him, Ziva was sitting behind her desk. With her desk phone between her shoulder and chin, she was the only one trying to pretend she was actually working, but the animated chat in Hebraic could be heard even over all the noise of the bullpen. And even though her Hebraic was not what it used to be, Jenny could pick a few words that were certainly not related to any kind of work done by the agency. On the other end, McGee's determined stare at his computer could only indicate that he was in the last stages of a game.

"Planning on sneaking your way towards DiNozzo and slapping him by surprise?" she asked.

"Sounds tempting."

"However you choose to go downstairs, do it quickly. It's almost 0930."

"I will. I just wanted to escort you to your office."

"I think I can manage these ten last steps on my own, Jethro. Bye, see you later," she turned on her feet and went over to her office. Cynthia was, as expected, sitting behind her desk, honing multi-task to an art form as her eyes wandered through her computer screen, her right hand held a phone and her left hand scrabbled something on a post-it.

"Good morning, madam," she managed to say.

"Good morning, Cynthia. How's my schedule?"

"You didn't lose anything madam, don't worry."

"The meeting with SecNAV is today, isn't?"

"Yes… at 1400."

"Ok. Thank you, Cynthia."

"Madam?"

"Yes?"

"Ducky's in there. He's been waiting you for some time."

"Ducky? Did he say what it's about?"

"No. He just said he needed to speak to you."

"Alright then," she finally opened the door to her office, closing it behind her.

Ducky was standing near her desk. For a second, she wondered whether he'd been standing all this time, and then she remembered how he liked to be the perfect gentleman at all times. That included not sitting down in her office while she was out.

"Hi, Ducky. Nice to see you. Have a seat, please."

"Good morning, Jennifer."

She frowned very discreetly. It was no secret that she disliked to be called by her name, but the doctor always liked to call people by their names. Funny that no-one ever called him by his name.

"So…" she pulled back her chair, taking her place behind the desk while he sat on one of the chairs opposite. "Cynthia told me you needed to speak to me."

"I do indeed."

His stern features puzzled her a bit and she started imagining all sort of scenarios, from some next of kin threatening to sue the agency to some kind of major disaster in the Autopsy Room. Since he remained silent, she decided to speak again.

"What is the matter then?"

"Why, in God's good name, did you order a blood test, Jennifer?"

She almost gasped in shock, but years of experience helped her stifle it. Nevertheless, it was the last thing she was expecting to hear. Composing herself, she snapped back.

"That's none of your concern, Dr Mallard."

"I'm afraid it is. How, and even more important, why did you do it? Were you expecting a different result this time?"

"Of course not. As sad as it sounds, I'm resigned with my fate. I'm not expecting any kind of miracle or even a new treatment."

"Then what did you have in mind?"

"Abby went straight to you, didn't she? I should have known better."

"Don't blame Abigail. I just happened to figure it out."

"You don't need to be so protective, Ducky. I don't intend to do anything to her. I thought you knew me."

"I thought so too, but somehow you keep on surprising me, Director."

"I don't like your tone." Calling her by her formal title made her forget they were dealing with a personal issue. "Or your insinuations."

"I'm not insinuating. How did you manage to do it behind my back? The test, I mean."

"Palmer took the blood."

"As I suspected. You tricked him into your schemes then?"

"I'm not plotting any schemes. I just knew you'd react like this, so I went to Palmer instead."

"Very well. And now, speaking as your doctor as opposed to a friend or employee, would you tell me the purpose of said test?"

Jenny stared at him for a while. "Alright," she reached for her handbag and took the folded printout from the inside. She leant on the chair and handed it to Ducky.

The doctor promptly accepted and unfolded the paper. His expression clouded as he read. "What's the bloody meaning of this, Jennifer?"

"You're the doctor," she answered, being purposely dense.

Ducky dropped the paper on the desk, his hand reaching to his face to remove the spectacles. He then wiped his forehead with his hand and eyed her gravely.

"I'm afraid you don't realise the seriousness of this situation…"

"I'm quite aware of it, Ducky. You have no idea how aware I am."

"So, this wasn't… an accident? You did get pregnant on purpose?"

"I'm not sure I like those terms, but yes."

Ducky sighed sharply. "That must have been the most irresponsible thing you've ever done, Jennifer Sheppard."

"I could see that one coming. How predictable."

"Does he know?"

"He?"

"Jethro."

"Why are you so quick to assume that it's Jethro's?"

"You planned all of this. Who else would it be?"

"My life hasn't been restricted to Jethro."

"I didn't intend to muscle in. But I've known you both for a long time. And now that you're facing… what you're facing, I can't imagine you turning to someone else."

"You can say it, Ducky. I won't break. All I want is to finally sort out my life. It may come a bit late, I'm afraid, but it's better than nothing."

"Does he know, Jennifer?"

"What? That I'm pregnant or that I'm dying?"

"Either one."

"The former; yes, of course. The latter; no. And you're not going to tell him."

"Don't you think he has the right to know?"

"Yes, I do. But things are much easier this way. You know Jethro. He can't suffer anymore."

"So you're convinced he's not going to suffer when… when…"

"When I'm not here anymore?"

"Yes."

"He will. But he'll have someone else to think about. To care about. He won't drown in grief again as he did the first time. Not that I'm convinced he likes me the same way as he did with Shannon anyway."

"I knew you could be very cold-hearted but I always thought it was a cover, a protection. I didn't know you two were an item again, but I, as everyone in this place, noticed the change in Jethro in the last couple of weeks. Yes, don't try to argue that he hasn't changed. You can only be trying to fool yourself if you really think that you mean so little to him. I don't know what went through your head when you decided that sorting your life meant leaving a child without a mother and only a bereaved father as company. And don't get me wrong; I would have been the first one to be glad about your reconciliation if it had happened on equal ground. You must tell him."

"It won't happen."

She had expected him to go on and on. But all Ducky did was sigh again, sadly. "I know how stubborn and obstinate you can be. I just wish one day you realise what you're doing."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"No, I will not. It is not for me to do it."

"Very well. I think we're done here."

"Not yet. I'm still your doctor. How far are you?"

"Very little. Two weeks I suppose. It was hard to test."

"Your medication is my main concern, apart from all the rest."

"I've changed it. I went to Bethesda."

He looked surprised. "Did you? What are you taking now?"

She fetched her handbag again and went through it until she found all the medicaments and their prescription, handing it to him.

Ducky adjusted his spectacles and read everything carefully. "Very well. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Nothing different. Tired, but that's not unusual."

"Have you slept and eaten properly? Worked too much?"

"I only found out yesterday. But I intend to. Anything else?"

"I'll want to keep an eye on you."

"You know where to find me."

"Have you thought about the possibility of not being able to carry the child to full term?"

"Of course I have. But at least I'll be able to carry it until a scheduled birth can be performed."

"Is that what you really want? Give birth to a child and not be here to see him... or her... growing up? Not being a part of-"

"Enough, Ducky. Enough."

"You're going down a rough path here, Jennif-"

"I said enough! You may leave now."

He nodded and left without another word. Jenny didn't dare to move until she heard the door closing. Her first reaction was to leave her desk and go over to the large window that adorned the wall near her. Her arms folded maybe a bit too tightly as she felt her own fingernails digging into her flesh whilst she gazed at the navy yard. Her mind was carefully blank in an effort to keep Ducky's words out. As it became more and more difficult she went to the drinking cabinet in search of refuge and a way to dull the pain.

The realisation of her condition hit her after she had just poured herself a glass, and she snapped, smashing it against the floor in a rare moment of lack of control. As she sat on the settee, strangely soothed by the action, she glanced at the splashed liquid, at the tiny pieces of glass scattered around, and at the stain that was rapidly spreading all over the rug.

"I told Jethro he should have taken the damn bottle home," she muttered as she rose again, heading towards the toilet for a towel to clean up the mess. It would be simpler to call Cynthia and ask her to bring the cleaning staff, but she knew her agency too well. In a few hours everyone would be wondering why the Director was drinking during work hours and why it seams she had started smashing things.

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