"You called, Director?" Gibbs said, walking in with his ever present cup of coffee, his posture and the look in his eyes beginning to reflect that he was heading into thirty-three hours without sleep.

"Looking for an update on your case, Special Agent Gibbs," she said, all director until the door swung closed and Gibbs flipped the lock.

He dropped unceremoniously onto her couch, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. She had to smile.

"I was actually serious about that one Jethro. I've been too many places today to even begin to catch up on what your team is up to."

Gibbs rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Eighteen year old sailor in dress whites found under a bus at the terminal on K Street." He lifted his head momentarily and glared. "Who dies under a bus?"

Jenny stifled a laugh. "I'm going to hazard a guess that it wasn't his first choice Jethro."

"Maybe not. But he's still dead. And the leads aren't going anywhere, no one we've talked to knows a dang thing and Abby and Ducky can't agree on cause or time of death!"

Jenny moved to join him and began running her fingers softly through this silver hair. He groaned.

"Jen, don't tempt me. I might fall asleep right here."

She smiled. "You're welcome to nap here if you want, I'm gone for the next hour. But your team might get the wrong idea."

He sat up, attempted to open his eyes and poured some coffee down his throat. "Got a case to solve." Getting up required supreme effort. He would give a lot for his bed right now, even more for Jenny to share it with him. Sleep was becoming a high priority but he knew from experience that he was hours away from getting it. "You wanna yell at me on the way out?" he offered. "The kids already think I'm in trouble."

"You won't take it personally?"

"Not when I knew you don't mean it Jen. It's in your eyes."

She took a deep breath and slipped back into director mode, raising her voice. "Do not talk to me that way, I am in charge of this agency..."

"Not for long if you keep doing such a bang up job!" His tone and volume matched hers and he stomped out of the room like a child with a temper tantrum.

She followed on his heels and waited until he started down the stairs. "Special Agent Gibbs!" she shouted. "We are not done!"

"Last time I checked Director," he said with emphasis on her title, "this was still my investigation." And he turned around and kept going.

She glared daggers at him for a moment as his team stared and then spun around and headed back into her office. She left her angry face on for Cynthia, who looked unsure.

"Um, Director?"

"What?" she snapped, making sure Cynthia could tell it was Gibbs she was mad at, not her.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to remind you about your appointment in five minutes."

Jenny blew out a breath, letting all her fake anger drain away. "Oh, that. Thank you Cynthia." She sighed. "You're in charge for the next hour." She sent a threatening look in the direction of the squadroom. "Do not let Agent Gibbs shoot anyone."

"I'll try Ma'am."

Jenny grabbed her purse, closed her office door and left for the elevator.

NCIS

"Everything okay Boss?" Tony asked when Gibbs rejoined the team, ignoring Ziva's warning look.

"No, it's not okay!" Gibbs snapped, real frustration taking the place of made up emotion. "Do you wanna tell me how we've been working this case for," time check, "fourteen hours and still have nothing?"

"That is not true Gibbs," Abby's voice carried into the bullpen as she hurried from the back elevator, Ducky trailing behind her, "we found something."

"Yes Jethro," Ducky took over. "After a long and arduous examination and re-examination of the body, we have determined when and how our sailor died."

Abby snatched the paper Ducky was holding and waved it in front of Gibbs' face. "Ready for this Gibbs?" She was practically dancing she was so excited. "He OD'd on steroids!"

"Steroids?" Gibbs asked, scanning the sheet. "How did we miss this?"

"Because," Abby grinned, "it wasn't in his bloodstream. It was in his lungs."

Ducky was in charge of the grand finale. "Our dead sailor was severely asthmatic Jethro. And someone knew it because his inhaler had been poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Gibbs echoed, feeling like a parrot.

"Exactly," Ducky smiled. "The concentration in his lungs was five times that of the normal level of an asthma sufferer. He died of asphyxia. His lungs couldn't handle the pressure and shut down."

"So why was he under a bus?" Gibbs demanded.

"Oh Jethro," Ducky shook his head. "I'm afraid that is your department."

Gibbs looked at his team. "I want to go back to that ship and lean on his squad. We know how, lets find who and why. Someone there knows what happened. I want to know who's lying. Let's go!"

NCIS

At 1600 Jenny again found herself sitting in Dr. Renway's office, grateful for the cup of tea Kristyn had just handed her. She wanted something to do with her hands.

Kristyn studied Jenny's face and watched her eyes. "Still not your favourite place to be, huh?"

Jenny took a sip of her tea and smiled wryly. "Don't take it personally."

The psychiatrist leaned back in her chair. "Tell me about your week so far."

Jenny rolled her shoulders. "Monday night was nice. Tuesday was awful and Wednesday," she shrugged, "it depended on when you asked."

"What about today?" Kristyn asked, already taking notes.

"Today..." Jenny smiled. "I almost feel normal. I slept last night, I've been good at my job today, I'm even starting to miss normal interaction with my husband."

"What happened Tuesday?" Dr. Renway asked, throwing Jenny off a little.

"Oh, uh, flashback. It happened in the morning, something Jethro said. I don't even remember the rest of the day, but from what little I could get out of my husband, I gathered that I wasn't especially pleasant."

"What triggered the flashback?"

Jenny felt herself getting irritated. What part of 'I don't want to talk about it' did therapists not understand? Oh, that's right - all of it! She clasped her tea mug tighter and studied her reflection in the steaming liquid.

"When I decided to stay home from work, Jethro commented that normally he'd have to tie me up to keep me away from the office. And that..."

"...took you back to the bunker," Kristyn finished. "I'm sorry Jenny. Flashbacks are never easy to deal with and the triggers can be anything." She switched topics slightly. "What was good about yesterday?"

Jenny blushed, tracing her fingers absently along her lips. "First kiss since," she said softly.

Kristyn brightened. "That's progress."

"A little," Jenny shrugged, "not that big of a deal."

The doctor waited until Jenny looked at her before shaking her head slowly. "There is no such thing as 'not that big a deal' when you're recovering from this type of experience. Any forward progress is good progress."

"Well, it'd be nice if it would go a little faster," Jenny said shortly before an apologetic look claimed her face.

"Tell me what you meant when you said you were starting to 'miss normal interaction' with your husband."

Jenny sighed and leaned back into the couch. "Because we work together, I've gotten used to certain things." She shrugged. "Like how he'll squeeze my hand or touch my shoulder or kiss my cheek before he leaves my office. Today," she spread her hands, "I think he's afraid to touch me, afraid of what my reaction will be."

Kristyn tucked some hair behind her ear and gazed at Jenny intently. "And what have your reactions been when he touches you?"

"Not so good," Jenny admitted. "But so much depends on the day or the moment. The first night, everything made me jumpy or made me remember, but a lot of little things were still okay and I knew he was trying to help. Maybe I was too numb to register everything, I don't know. And Sunday even more was okay, lots of normal things I barely even thought about and if felt really good. Monday too, a few things made me nervous, but it was okay. And I don't really remember Tuesday, but I don't think anything was okay that day. Yesterday I didn't want to close my eyes when we kissed, I wanted to see that it was him there. And even when we're teasing and he says something I usually wouldn't give a second thought to, now it just reminds me of everything we don't have right now. Everything we can't have because I'm afraid. If I dream about what happened, when I wake up I don't even want him near me. It's frustrating because it's so back and forth, on and off." She closed her fists. "A little consistency would be nice.

Kristyn nodded sympathetically. "I wish it was as easy as just wanting things to be normal. You can't blame yourself Jenny, this whole process takes time. And there will be some moments, some reactions, some feeling you just can't control." She looked up at Jenny, tapping her pencil against her notepad.

"I know it's only been a week. In some ways what happened may feel like a lifetime ago and in others it will seem like yesterday. But I'd like to encourage you to work on being okay with your husband's touch. Unfortunately though, it's a double edged sword. You don't want to rush anything or go beyond what you're comfortable with. But at the same time, the longer you avoid being touched, the harder it will be to get used to it again."

The doctor took a moment to flip through her notes from last week while giving the woman time to absorb what she'd said. "Okay Jenny, let's talk about the emotions you've been feeling this week."

Jenny tried not to be obvious with her disdain for these sessions. Yes, it was supposed to help. Yes, having someone as a sounding board was nice and even some of what Kristyn said made a lot of sense. But right now Jenny would take a dentist appointment over this.