Disclaimer- I don't own NCIS

Authors note – hey! So I would have written sooner only I've had awful hay fever which had just taken it outta me. Hope this is ok! Your reviews are amazing! Please keep em coming and don't hate me…

"Hit and run victim, lost consciousness ten minutes ago, severe abdominal trauma, possible head trauma. BP …" shouted a young blonde paramedic.

Crowds of nurses, paramedics and doctors rushed her through the double doors. Each swarming around her to get a better look. The gurney she currently lay on was being pushed through the winding, stark white, sterile halls of the hospital. She lay there, amongst all the hustle, the rush, the panic; she lay there unconscious. In a world so far from the one every one else was dealing with. She saw her life flash before her eyes, the good the bad and the ugly. A male doctor checked for pupil responses', before shouting yet more orders and directions to those around.

"Response slow but not critical, I want her on 10ml of morphine, get her a CT, MRI and X-ray ASAP. In the mean time take her to ICU I want her on 15 minute observation."

Once more she was wheeled around again, being taken from one room to another, poked and prodded and scanned. Jenny had an X-ray, and was taken to surgery straight after her MRI and CT. Slowly she fought for her live and people she didn't even know attempted to save her from losing her it before her time.

Across town, in an old small cottage Doctor Mallard packed a bag for the girl he thought of as a daughter. He placed pyjamas, hoodies and underwear in the bag before leaving for the hospital. Behind the face of sanity and calmness was a man who couldn't bear the thought of losing his god daughter. His silver Morgan drove the streets of Oxford that he knew like the back of his hand. And when he finally arrived at the hospital it all turned into a blur. The people, the nurse's, the sorrow streaked walls. As Ducky waited in the sterile blue and white NHS waiting room he couldn't help but wonder if he should have made her stay in DC, maybe then she wouldn't be lying in a hospital fighting for her life. Maybe she'd be happier not living with an elder man maybe… But they were all maybe's, all things he would never for certain know. Ducky was brought from his thought by the cough of a young male doctor. He had brown hair that was blushed back, sharp features and a tanned skin. He stood up and shuck the man's hand.

"Family of Jennifer Sheppard?" he questioned.

"I'm the closest thing, I'm her god father."

"Very well. Jennifer sustained serious trauma to her abdomen and as a result had broken three ribs which had in turn caused internal bleeding. We managed to control that. We've also given her a CT scan and an MRI which both came back clear although we may need to keep an eye on that in case of any blood clots that form. Yet, as things go she seems to have gotten off lightly. Things could have been a lot worse. The Police are investigating this as intentional so they will want to talk to her when she wakes up, but as of now you may go and see her. She's in room 112."

"Thank you Doctor."

As Ducky walked away he couldn't help but feel a wave of relief pass over him. She was safe, and that was the most important thing. The corridors went on forever, but silently Ducky counted the numbers on the white plaques as he went. As he approached the room which was just aside from ICU he took a deep breath and opened the door.

There she lay on the white sheets. She looked so pale, her flaming red hair contrasting so vividly to the sheets. Her veins seemed so prominent against her pale skin. He sat down beside her and checked everything was hooked up correctly. She was on fluids and morphine for the pain which didn't surprise him. She also had many cuts and bruises one of which was stitched on her temple. He took he hand being careful to avoid the heart monitoring clip, and kissed it.

That was how he fell asleep that night, to be awoken at 11 by her grumbles/ He looked up to see her confused face. He smiled at her and she smiled back. "What happened?" she asked her voice groggy and weaved with tiredness.

"You were in an accident-"

"The car."

"Yes my dear, do you remember?"

"Yeah."

"How do you feel?"

"Like an elephant has trampled over me!" Ducky smiled, she was at least cracking jokes. After being checked over by a nurse she was left to sleep. She looked down at Ducky and took his hand. "Go home Ducky, it's late, and I'll still be here in the morning." Although her tone was soft there was reason behind it and he did as she asked. Once she was sure he had gone she rested her head against the mound of pillows and let herself fall into dream land once more.

-An English Rose-

He stood waiting for two hours, he waited and waited, and even with his gut screaming she wasn't coming he waited. But at midnight he made his way back. But something, a niggling feeling in the back of his mind told his it wasn't out of choice that she hadn't come. But he couldn't ignore the fact that it just might be that he'd been dumped.

-An English Rose-

He well dressed figure portraying high class and riches. The man whom smelt of expensive liquor and cigars stood out from the rest. He walked around; not attracting attention then again these walks saw many a different class of person. He entered her room without a sound. Closing the door without a creak. He stood by the window, gazing out and saw the city beginning to come to life. Jenny slowly awoke at 07 00 and felt the presence of someone watching her. He was still in that posision when she stared at him. "You're more of a fighter than your father was." He commented.

"You knew my father?2 she questioned, shock filling her voice.

"We were…acquaintances."

"Meaning what."

"We did business." He said, and it was then she noticed his French accent.

"Mon père était un bon homme" she stated.

"C'est une question d'oppinion." He replied. He stared in her eyes, that was all she needed to see the ice, the hidden emotion.

"Je ne comprends pas."

"Ah, ma petite fille. We shall talk in English no? Your father he was what you call a traitor."

"There was no evidence, how could you know for certain!" she said, the pain rising in her voice."

"Car ma petite fille, J'étais celui qui lui a donné le pot de vin."

"NO! But no, you couldn't have, i mean, no he was innocent."

"I offered him the money, he accepted. Then he decided to be 'honourable' as he called it, give the money back and tell the truth. I couldn't have that now could I. So I shot him. POP! To the head. End of. You on the other hand are a fighter. Now you know, it's over. Au revoir ma belle petite, bien dormir."

With that he injected her with a clear liquid. Her body went into shock, her heart rate rising then falling then rising all over. Her body went into spasm, as all over again she fought for her life.

Translations from google translate and me brain, please review!