"Cause of death, Ducky?" Gibbs asked the moment he walked into the cold, sterile room.

"Hello to you too Jethro," Ducky replied. He faced the man lying on the metal table. "Preliminary exam confirms what I suspected."

"He drowned?" Gibbs asked.

Ducky smiled. "Good guess. But actually, that is only one of the ways he died."

"There's more than one way to die Duck?"

"Oh hundreds," the doctor confirmed. "But I would think that is a subject that both our Mossad Liaison and our forensic scientist could speak at length on. You know, there are five ways to kill a person with just the use of your..."

"Only interested in one way Duck."

"Of course." He gestured to the x-ray wall. "Our poor young petty officer drowned only after he'd been shot." Ducky held up the small glass evidence jar containing a rather compacted bullet. "Long range. Sniper rifle perhaps. Though you would know that better than I, Jethro. Mr. Palmer," Ducky called to his assistant who was on the computer running a test, "would you take this bullet up to Abby please?"

"Right away Doctor," Jimmy smiled and got up before Gibbs shook his head.

"No need. I've got it Duck. On my way to see Abby anyways." He pulled out a pen and scribbled his signature on the evidence bag.

"Let me know if you find anything else."

"Of course Jethro," Ducky called after him, but heard the ding and knew the man was already gone. "No patience in people these days," he muttered. "When I was a boy, Mr. Palmer, patience was a virtue. In fact, I'm reminded of a time..."

NCIS

"Hi Gibbs," Abby smiled as he walked into her lab, albeit without his usual offering. Her dark eyebrows arched and she pouted just a tiny bit. "No Caf-Pow?"

"Evidence first Abby, caffeine induced high energy later."

"Well don't you just take all the fun out of life," she grumbled good naturedly. "Petty Officer Wright. Umm...tox screen showed he was driving with a 0.5 blood alcohol level, which is below the legal limit in Virginia. Other than that, he was clear for drugs - nothing in the last year so far that I can tell."

"What about his clothes?"

"Patience Gibbs," Abby shook her head at him, "I was just getting to that. There's the obvious blood from the entry wound and the hole from the bullet, but there's not much else I can tell you. He is in uniform so maybe he was heading to base or coming from? It's hard to tell when his car ends up in a lake. Pretty sure he didn't mean to park there. Although," Abby considered this for a moment, "parking is probably free at the bottom of the lake." She grinned. "Not too many traffic jams down there."

"Abby..." Gibbs practically begged.

"The car was much more interesting, but you're going to have to bring the team to the evidence garage to hear about that part. I like to do it in person."

"You just want an excuse to wear the comfortable jumpsuit," Gibbs stated as if it were a well-known fact.

"Oh Gibbs...if I didn't have to leave those at work, I would probably be wearing them home all the time. Who knows," she shrugged, "might even replace my funeral gown." She frowned. "I just don't know what is better, the blue or the red? What do you think?"

When she turned around to hear Gibbs' opinion, she found that he had disappeared. Spinning back around and clicking some keys on her computer, Abby shrugged. He probably can't choose between blue and red. Hmm...I wonder what Gibb' favourite colour is? I'll have to ask Jenny. No, better yet, I'll send out an anonymous survey. Yeah...with a tagline. Don't forget that I'm a forensic scientist and I can kill you without leaving a trace. She grinned. Perfect.

NCIS

For the first time that day, Gibbs permitted himself to relax a little about the case. The evidence Abby had pulled from the car had turned out to be great news and they already had a lead on a suspect, which the team was out tracking down. Gibbs was waiting to hear back on a search warrant before he joined them. There was no way whoever killed the petty officer was getting off on a technicality.

He checked his watch. Still a few minutes left before he was expecting the phone call, may as well go and check on Jenny. Wishing he'd stepped out for lunch so he had another excuse to go see her, Gibbs shrugged and took the steps two at a time.

Cynthia heard, rather than saw Special Agent Gibbs coming, so she stood up and rushed to stand in front of the Director's door. He would have to notice her then.

Gibbs sighed when he saw Jenny's assistant standing protectively in front of her office door. "Need to see her Cynthia."

Surprised that he even addressed her directly, the woman still crossed her arms. "Fine. But I'm warning you, something was wrong with her when she came back from MTAC."

Gibbs drilled a stare at her. "Define 'wrong'."

Cynthia shrugged and let her arms fall to her sides. "I don't know exactly, but something was off. The way she was talking to me, her sentences were all cut up into little pieces. I think she had a headache by the way she was wincing and she wasn't making eye contact with me." She stepped aside. "I guess you're the best person to check on her, since you are her husband."

Gibbs knit his brows and reached for the door.

When Jenny heard a noise, she struggled to lift her head. Oh great, someone was in her office. She guessed she hadn't quite hit the lock properly when she came in. Squinting, she blinked a couple of times until the person came into view.

"Jethro," she breathed, laying her head back down. She certainly didn't have to stand on ceremony with her own husband.

"Jen?" He frowned and moved towards her, sitting on the edge of the couch and putting his hand on her cheek, then her forehead, checking for a fever. Jenny never just laid down on the couch in the middle of the day. Cynthia was right, something was definitely wrong.

Jenny leaned into Gibbs' touch before remembering she didn't think she wanted to be touched. But it was so hard to focus. Did that make sense? Why was she afraid of her husband again? Wasn't he going to make it all better? Oh, if only this pain in her head would go away, why couldn't she think straight?

Gibbs went to Jenny's bathroom and reached for the bottle of aspirins in the medicine cabinet. He shook two into his palm, wishing he could give her more but knowing it wasn't a good idea. A headache, laying down on the couch, it seemed like her time of the month was hitting with a vengeance this time. He was so glad that he was not a woman and didn't have to go through that every three weeks.

He filled the glass on the counter half-full with water and went back out to see to his wife. "Here," he touched her shoulder and offered her the pills, "take these Jen, they'll help."

Jenny's expression twisted with confusion as she struggled to prop herself up on one elbow. "Help with what? Is something wrong? What's that?"

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "Aspirin, for your headache," he said slowly, not liking how she sounded.

"Oh yes, the headache. Too much coffee I guess, or is it not enough? I can't remember."

"Jenny, what's wrong?" he asked. She wasn't making any sense and it was scaring him.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, curling back up on the couch.

Gibbs sat down beside her again. His new mission had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with convincing his wife/boss that she should take the rest of the day off and go home and sleep.

"Did something happen in MTAC?" he asked, uncertain if he would get a clear answer or not.

It looked like she was thinking. "Stupid Colonel," she muttered, "doesn't he know I'm in charge? I hope he didn't kill anyone."

Okay, so something had gone wrong with the mission apparently, but that didn't explain her foggy headstate. Gibbs pulled his cell phone out of the holder on his belt.

"Jethro, I haven't found anything new yet..." Dr. Mallard began.

"Ducky, get up to Jen's office, will you? Something's wrong."

"I'll be right there."

Minutes passed while Gibbs' watched Jenny lie on the sofa and waited for his old friend.

"What's the matter Jethro?" Ducky asked, rushing in.

"I don't know. She keeps talking nonsense, she doesn't seem to know what's going on. She was fine a couple hours ago. Well, not fine," he amended, "but okay. I don't know what happened."

"Let's have a look, shall we?" Ducky said. "Hello Jennifer," he smiled and shook her shoulder gently.

She rolled over and smiled widely at him. "Ducky! How are you? Are we in Paris?"

Now it was Ducky's turn to be concerned, and he reached for his light to check her eyes, keeping up a steady stream of conversation with her as he did a quick, physical exam.

"No Jennifer, that was eight years ago. We're in DC in your office and I'm just going to make sure you haven't hurt yourself."

"Can't get hurt with Jethro around," Jenny stated, drawing her gaze back to her husband.

Ducky chuckled. "He is quite handy to have around my dear. Now, can you follow my finger? Good girl." When he was satisfied, he nodded. "Alright Jennifer, lay down. You can rest a little more before you go home."

"Is it time to go already?" Jenny didn't like the sound of that. "Oh, I had so much to do today! I don't know how the time got away from me. Do I really have to go home?"

"Yes," both men answered together, before moving to the other side of the room so Ducky could explain.

"Well?" Gibbs demanded.

"She doesn't appear to have a concussion Jethro and I don't believe she's taken anything."

"Just the aspirins I gave her ten minutes ago."

Ducky shook his head. "That won't hurt her." He looked back over his shoulder at Jenny. "But she does seem to be reacting to whatever it is as if she is drunk."

"It's been a long time since I've seen that," Gibbs said, pushing his hands into his pockets. "What should I do? I can't just leave."

"Let her security detail see her safely home. Can you make sure someone is with her?"

"If I can't reach Noemi I will order Ziva onto protection detail."

"Good enough."

"So you don't know what's wrong with her?" Gibbs asked again, feeling the concern pooling in his stomach.

Ducky hated to speculate. "Did she sleep well last night?"

"Except for a middle of the night bad dream break and the mini therapy session we had."

"And this morning?"

"Back to what it was like the first week - didn't want to be touched, didn't seem able to control her reactions."

"What about earlier, just before this happened?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Cynthia mentioned something about an MTAC mission."

"I wonder..." Ducky began. "It seems rather an extreme reaction, but if she had a panic attack because of something that happened with the mission, a loss of control perhaps. She could've reacted violently to it."

"I'll take that over something being really wrong in her head," Gibbs crossed his arms. "Thanks Duck. I'll take it from here."

"Let me know how she is," Ducky said, retrieving his bag and leaving quietly.

Gibbs punched the intercom button on Jenny's phone. "Cynthia, have the Director's security detail report to her door in five minutes."

There was only a slight hesitation before she answered. "Right away Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs headed back over to where Jenny lay on the couch. "Jen? Honey? It's time to go."

Jenny rolled over and aimed her beautiful, although slightly glazed, green eyes at him. "Go where?"

"Home," he said firmly.

"Oh, alright."

With his help Jenny sat up and Gibbs got her coat. As she passed her desk, Jenny reached for the teddy bear Abby had given her which had been sitting on the corner of her desk since it's arrival, and stuffed it into her briefcase, which Gibbs then took from her.

"Who is that?" he asked, knowing Jenny talked about her teddy bears like people.

Jenny's forehead wrinkled as if she were trying to remember, then she smiled slowly. "Carebear," she said confidently.

By the time they exited the office, Jenny's security detail was waiting, Special Agents Cooper and Miesser. Gibbs briefly explained the situation, told them to take good care of his wife, and pressed a quick kiss to Jenny's hair.

"Bye Jen."

"Aren't you coming?"

"Later," he smiled and watched her walk away. With his eyes still on her, he reached for his cell phone again, dialing Jenny's home number.

"Senora Shepard's residence," came Noemi's accented voice.

"Noemi, it's Gibbs."

"Hola Senor Gibbs. Como estas?"

Gibbs had been around Jenny's housekeeper long enough to pick up what her Spanish phrases meant. "Been better Noemi. I'm sending Jenny home, I need you to keep an eye on her."

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, something isn't right. Just make sure she sleeps for awhile, okay? And if you can get her to eat something, I'll give you a raise."

"No no no," Noemi protested, "eating should not cost extra. I will try."

"Thank you Noemi."

"De nada Senor Gibbs."

He hung up the phone. Too many commitments. He wanted to be with his wife. He needed to work this case. Sometimes life wasn't fair.