Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
A.N.: Thank you to alix33, itzcheeseball, Twilight Trekky, Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, jstapny, black widow mistress, MissJayne and HesMines for reviewing!
A.N.2: Sorry I didn't get this out yesterday, I'm in the process of moving in with my boyfriend so things are a little hectic. :)
Jenny watched Jethro walk down the stairs and then looked back at Emily, happy to see that she had stopped crying and was attempting to stop her hands from shaking. Jenny pulled her into another hug and then smoothed her hair back soothingly. Emily sniffled and wiped her eyes, huffing in irritation at herself and turning her sad eyes to the stairs. Jenny's heart tugged, Emily knew that Gibbs didn't want to hurt her, but she couldn't help her automatic response when she saw any tall man.
"Are you alright, Emily?" Jenny asked her softly, and the little girl glanced up at her and then nodded determinedly. Jenny smiled in response to Emily's bravery. "What did you want to see me for?"
"I just wondered if I could use your shower and stuff. Mine must still be at home." Emily mumbled shyly and Jenny mentally slapped herself. Of course, she had let her use her own shampoo and shower gel before, buying Emily some of her own had completely slipped her mind. She made a mental note to ask Noemi to get some later today.
"Of course you can, isn't there any in the guest bathroom?" she asked and Emily shook her head. Jenny offered her one of her hands, which the little girl took readily, and then led her into her bedroom and through to her bathroom. Jenny picked up some things, including a few towels, and then led Emily back out and down the hall to the guestroom where Emily was staying. She walked through to the bathroom and stored everything away, glad to see that while it wasn't used very often, Noemi had kept it clean.
"Thank you Jenny." Emily said happily and Jenny smiled and then left her to it. She walked back down the corridor and into her own room, where she rummaged through her wardrobe for the outfit she was going to wear today. She laid it out on her bed and then walked into her bathroom, closing the door behind her and activating the shower.
While it warmed up she stripped off yesterdays outfit and shoved it into her laundry basket, grimacing at the small blood stain on her shirt. There must have been quite a lot of blood for it to have soaked into her clothes. She carefully separated some of the stuck together strands of her hair, wincing when it pulled on her head injury and then she gave up, hoping that the water would sort it out rather than make it worse.
Once she was satisfied with the temperature that the water had reached, she stepped under the spray and sighed happily as the steady stream worked its magic on her skin. She could feel it soothing away her stress and tension, and after a few moments of bliss she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and stuck her head under. It stung sharply and the water running down her body turned red as her hair gave up its hold on the blood that it had soaked up, but she resolutely massaged it gently until it ran clear.
The pain should serve as a reminder not to drink herself into a stupor again, but a small part of her mind told her that she would have been fine if Jethro hadn't snuck up on her. She had gotten drunk before and she had never had an accident like last nights, the only new factor was Jethro's presence. She should be annoyed with him for making her get hurt and then telling her that it was the drinks fault. She opened her eyes and stared at the tiles in front of her, willing herself to stay calm as she felt the beginnings of anger swirling in the pit of her stomach.
It wasn't Jethro's fault, why would she think that? Since when had she started blaming others for her problems? Just like that the other times she had been angry with and unfair to others popped into her mind and she closed her eyes again as shame, embarrassment and self-loathing suffused her mind and body. She had been devoid of happy feelings for so long that she had begun to resent the people around her, making her colder and even more distant.
She had put on a good act in the beginning and inserted herself into NCIS headquarters relatively easily. They had all been grieving for Kate at the time, so they had taken the change in their stride. Her familiarity with both Gibbs and Ducky had made her more of a curiosity than a threat, as Ziva had been perceived. She had worked hard to cement her place as Director in the minds of not only her Agency, but the public as well, and that had given her hardly any time to think about her loss.
She was secure now, she didn't have to prove herself anymore and that left her with ample time to torture herself with memories of Rosie, of her warm, dead body lying limply in her arms. With memories of her father, of finding his corpse just downstairs in the study, and of the authorities declaring what was so obviously a murder, a suicide. Of La Grenouille, the one behind both deaths, the one who had taken them from her and was still free. She shook off her thoughts, washed her hair and then turned the shower off. She stepped out, wrapping a towel around herself as she did so and wandered out of the bathroom in time to see Jethro turning her alarm off. Oddly enough she hadn't heard it while she was showering.
He stood up and turned around, looking at her at first as he would ordinarily, but then he did a double take, his eyes giving away just how appreciative he was of what he was seeing, reminding her that she was dripping wet and covered only by a towel. She blushed as he openly stared for what felt like minutes, but in reality was more like a few seconds. She smiled, her stomach tightening in response to his rather heated gaze which travelled up her towel clad body to her face, where their eyes connected, the full force of the mounting awareness and excitement hitting them.
He moved across the floor with an almost predatory grace, coming to a stop directly before her, his hands reaching up as if he was going to frame her face, but instead they hovered barely an inch from her skin. Despite the distance she could feel their warmth, her own hands longing to place his on her, but as of yet unwilling to relinquish their hold on her towel. She wanted him to kiss her as she was sure he wanted to, but a tiny voice held her back. Now was not the time to make something between them, it was too risky.
Jethro regained his control of himself with some obvious difficulty and cleared his throat, looking away from her discreetly and she lowered her gaze to floor. She worked hard telling herself that it wasn't a rejection, she had been unwilling to go ahead with the natural conclusion as well, but for some reason her emotions wouldn't stay linear. She moved past him and scooped up her clothes, carefully holding them away from her wet body while still holding the towel together, and then she walked back into the bathroom and closed the door.
She dropped her clothes and leaned back against the door, squeezing her eyes closed and taking a deep breath. Why hadn't she just kissed him? It was what they both obviously wanted and they were two consenting adults with a romantic history. What was holding her back? The answer; she knew herself and apparently he did too. She had a serious problem, one that could be devastating not only to her health but to her career, and it was only a matter of time before she began blaming other people for it.
She shook her head slowly, she was already doing it, had been in fact during her shower. It would be safer for their newfound understanding if they had no romantic liaisons until her problem was over and done with, then she could back him into a corner and…
A tentative knock on the door pulled her from her pleasant musings and she called out to whoever it was to give her a minute while she dressed in record timing. Jenny opened the door and looked out, watching as Emily investigated her pillow. Unsure about what Emily could possibly be doing, Jenny walked over to her and gently called out to her.
"Emily, are you alright?" she enquired, and the little girl flinched, pulling her hand back as if she had been burned and spun around, her eyes wide with fright. Jenny kneeled down beside her and gently pulled her towards her, her own fear escalating as Emily hugged herself and reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled into Jenny's embrace. "Emily, honey, what is it? What's wrong?" she asked, attempting to see what Emily had been looking at. When she did so, her heart contracted.
Emily had been touching where her head injury had bled and rubbed onto her pillow during the night. Jenny sighed softly and lifted Emily into her arms, stood up and walked out of her room and down the stairs. She needed to get away from the blood, from anything that would scare Emily. She wondered if her study was still a mess but dismissed the thought of looking just in case. She carried Emily to the kitchen, where Jethro was flipping pancakes, and set her down on one of the chairs.
Emily had closed her eyes tightly during transit and her little hands were curled into fists. She sat as rigid as a statue and Jenny reached out to stroke her hair, but her hand was caught during the movement by Jethro. Jenny looked up at him questioningly, a little annoyed by his intrusion, but he merely shook his head and pulled her away. She pulled her arm away when he had pulled her to a safe distance and glared at him.
"What was that for?" she fumed at him, angry that he thought he could just drag her around in her own house.
"She's in shock; she doesn't need any external stimuli to overload her right now." he answered, his voice more hushed than hers, making her wince at the thought of how loud she must have been. "What happened? She was fine when I passed her a moment ago." He said, glancing over to Emily, concern radiating from him.
"I was getting dressed in the bathroom and when I came out she was looking at my pillow." She explained guiltily, looking over at the immobile young girl.
"I should have thought of that." Jethro groaned, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. Jenny shook her head at him and placed a small hand on his chest soothingly.
"I should have thought of that, it's my pillow, my blood and my fault. You're tired, you can't be expected to think of everything, whereas I am fully rested and was lying on that pillow up until about half an hour ago." She told him, smiling self depreciatingly. She really should have done something about that pillow, she should, but what is done is done. "Is she ok?"
"Not yet, but I have an idea." Jethro said, quickly flicking on the kettle and busying himself with a mug. Less than a minute later he carefully approached Emily and placed the steaming mug of tea on the table in front of her, then retreated to stand back with Jenny. They watched for a few minutes as nothing happened, then one of Emily's hands snaked out and snagged the mug, the other following quickly, wrapping around it and just holding it as her fingers soaked up the heat.
It almost seemed like they were watching her defrost. She steadily drew the cup nearer to herself and then took a sip, the hot liquid opening the flood gates and she let go of the cup and turned, seeking Jenny as her lip quivered and the tears poured down her face. Jenny moved swiftly to her side and scooped her up, hugging the sobbing child to herself and gently swaying from side to side in a parents' soothing, time-honoured dance. Jethro watched contentedly as the crisis passed, for now.
A.N.3: Please don't think they were neglecting her at the end; she just didn't need to be crowded at that moment. I thought it was better for everyone if Emily reached out first.