Disclaimer : NCIS is not mine

Semper Fi

'This is my temporary home, it's not where I belong
Windows and rooms that I'm passing through
This was just a stop on the way to where I'm going
I'm not afraid because I know this was my temporary home'
-Carrie Underwood, Temporary Home

Weeks became months.

Summer passed them by, and autumn was on the doorstep.

Everything had carried on perfectly where planning the op in Moscow was concerned. In fact, it was now just a few weeks before she would be flying out there, ready to play her part in catching one of the main players in the European arms dealing ring. In fact, they were so close that she had already begun to buy the clothes she would wear when undercover, told Noami to have the time off, and had her first health check in with Ducky.

It was all falling into place perfectly.

And then there was Gibbs. They had barely spoken since she slapped him, and when they did it was just more arguments. However the silver hared fox had partially gotten his own way when it came to her mission. He was to fly out to Moscow a few weeks after her, and stay in a cottage with Stephanie. They wouldn't be involved in the mission, but 1) it had shut him up and 2) it meant that he was on call if she needed any assistance. Even if he was well aware of the fat she would rather kill herself than ask for it.

The SecNav had been much happier with this arrangement, and it suited everyone. But then Marrow had realised just how cracked their relationship had actually come, and just how close to breaking it was at the moment. Which had them all worried as to how effectively they would be able to work together, especially when the last time their covers had been active they'd been the best of friends. Jenny and Gibbs had been a couple in their cover last time, and as they were using the same alias' they had to find a way not to be this time considering he was bringing his wife.

Jenny's alias was that of a well to do french girl, the daughter of an American Army Cornal and a French maid – both of whom were now deceased. That was where she got her contacts for arms dealing from. The red head was fluent in French, and her accent was spot on. The only floor in her cover was that she spoke no Russian and therefore knew that her time in Russia was likely to be lonely. Gibbs had been the high school dropout who had had an eye for a bargain. He'd fallen on the wrong side of the law and gradually – expertly – gained a reputation. His mother was a woman who had fled Russia at a young age and a father who had been a low ranking naval officer – once more both were deceased. And that allowed for Gibbs to have had only mediocre French and fluent Russian. All in all it had made them a perfect pair for the last op.

The updated cover was; Jenny had gotten bored of being his second in command – Gibbs had played the part of being extremely chauvinistic bordering on misogynistic perfectly - after he'd screwed up with the Russians (they got arrested by European authorities following the op and once all operatives were safely extradited), she'd abandoned a sinking ship, choosing to start her own business instead. So she'd broken up with Gibbs – it was all designed to allow their frosty relationship in reality not to damage the cover.

Primarily she was going to be on her own for the duration of the operation - that was something that she didn't mind in the slightest. Although it was going to be hard it would mean she would be free to do what needed to be done to make it successful. Jenny was more relieved that she was not going to be having anyone breathing down her neck and telling her how to do it.

Jenny Shepard sat on the roof of NCIS. She'd taken the fire escape up – not wanting to be around anyone - and worked the lock so that she didn't set any alarms off in the process. She'd only discovered this place a couple of weeks ago after yet another fight with her partner, but it already felt like the only place she could think in the building. Up on the roof it was away from the chaos of her life, of her job, away from everyone who expected something of her. Here, she could watch over all those people, see how they were acting, watch as people fell in and out of love, went about their day to day life. Meanwhile forgetting the troubles she herself was experiencing.

Jenny's ponytail blew backwards, the wind carrying it along with it on its journey just as it did with the teal scarf draped around her neck. She was sat with her arms wrapped around her long chino clad legs, the thin white blouse she wore, covered by her tan leather jacket in and attempt to try and keep her warm whilst her feet showed a second splash of colour in teal brogues. The whole ensemble was elegant, and although in the back of her mind she still had a nagging voice telling her to tell Gibbs what he was missing, she was back in emotional turmoil.

Since he had tied the knot she'd gone through every emotion known to man, acted like a liar, a friend, an ex-wife, and now . . . she had been acting simply jealous. The truth was that Jenny didn't know how to act, because she didn't know what role she fitted into. Truth be told she didn't what role she had fitted into before. When he wasn't married there was nothing stopping their gentle flirting, the late nights spent up late talking. They hadn't had to worry what people thought, or if they chose to gossip about them being a couple – because it was harmless scuttlebutt. Now though, everything was completely different, and as Jenny sat up on the roof, it felt like a light switch went on in her brain.

It was time to grow up, because her behaviour could be summed up in one word: immature.

Lifting her face up slightly she closed her eyes so that the wind pushed against her face, causing her cheeks to flush with cold and make her eyes want to water ever so much. Sighing to herself she realised that now her role was as his friend, as his partner. That she would respect his decisions, because if the roles were reversed then he would not be acting this way.

It was time to stop the games and get on with life. When she went out to Moscow she wanted to know that he would have her back. But Jenny knew that in the last few weeks especially a lot of damage had been done, and it was not something that was going to be repaired overnight. It would take a long time. Because when they had argued, the slap she'd dealt him wasn't the worse thing. What was worse than that were the things they'd dragged up. After all they knew one another so well that they knew which buttons to push to hurt one another.

"Jennifer my dear, I think they're about to send out a search party down there. Jethro is throwing a fit." Said a softly Scottish voice from beside of her. The red head smirked at the doctor behind her, smiling at the way his own hair was blowing over his face as he made his way over to talk to her. Slowly sitting down beside the agent. Ducky sat there, his red bowtie signature to him just as much as his long stories. "He's scared." The Scotsman said, casting his glance over to look at her.

Jenny stayed looking forwards; if she turned to Ducky she wasn't sure what her tumultuous emotions would do next. "So am I." And it was the first time she had openly admitted it. "If you tell him that though I'll kill you Ducky."

"I wouldn't dare. But you need to talk to him, Jethro still sees you as his probie – even if you're not. He's terrified that without him being there, if everything goes south he might lose you."

"I can look after myself." She stated, trying as hard as she could to sound like she truly mean what she was saying. Even if Jenny was casually beginning to doubt it herself, she'd never done anything like this op in her life before. She'd always had him by her side – protecting her.

"You and I both know that is not what this is about my dear." He said and watched as she nodded, letting her eyes close slowly once more. Taking deep breaths as she thought about everything that was to come.

"I . . . I don't want-"She let herself take another deep breath, not knowing what she was about to say. "I never wanted it to get this far Duck, I was just annoyed and confused . . . I guess I still am. But now I get that I've been out of order."

"Don't blame yourself Jennifer; it's not all your fault."

"No, no I know." She said, and with that he stood up, groaning slightly at his joints. "Can you please find somewhere slightly warmer and comfier to hide next time – I'm getting too old for this." Jenny softly laughed, promising him she would return to her job in a moment. Ducky left her after that and she stood up, looking down on the Navy Yard. She'd go and see Jethro that evening, and she'd say what needed to be said. For now though she had better go and find her team before the man who plagued her thoughts actually murdered some poor innocent probie.

"Where have you been?" his voice was harsh, accusing and she hadn't even stepped into the divider yet. Gibbs saw the way her cheeks were flushed and hair was a little windswept with wisps escaping the restraint of the band containing it all behind her head. He guessed she'd been outside, especially considering that she had grabbed her coat before she left. As he looked at her he saw pure exhaustion, a woman who he had been constantly been arguing with him whilst trying to be so many things and do so many jobs.

"Needed some air, I'm back now." She said softly before sitting down at her desk to get on with some work. She wiggled her mouse and shrugged off her jacket before grabbing the file in front of her and scanning over it once more as she familiarised herself with the case they were working. Jenny sat there and could feel the eyes of her partner on her, but she ignored them. She was tired and worn out, emotionally and physically.

But when Stan knew that Gibbs was occupied, he and Will both glared at the red head, concern written over their faces. Jenny felt their eyes on her and lifted her eyes slightly, the concern made her heart swell, and she just gave them what she hoped was a reassuring smile. But in reality it just seemed a little empty to the observers. "Shepard." Jenny looked up from her desk to see the director and she just nodded, knowing it would no doubt be about the op she was about to be sent on. So she picked up the sheet of paper that held all of her notes and passed it over to Will to present to Gibbs when he asked. At least that might make him a little more civil. Jenny then began to walk to the stairs, feeling Gibbs' judgemental eyes on her for the whole time.

"Sir?" She asked the slightly greying Director as she stood opposite him. She'd been spending all of her free time sorting out for the op. She had been learning her cover, practicing her already perfect French and going over plans for the millionth time. Just in case something happened and it was all brought forward.

"SecNav is on the line. Can Gibbs spare you?"

"Well I can certainly spare him." She mumbled, choosing instead to just walk into MTAC, the darkness that filled the room a welcome relief from being in the spotlight. And below in the bullpen, as Gibbs watched her walk away. He hated the arguments, he hated the way they were always trying to hurt the other, the way that everything had turned sour. He knew that he was just as much responsible as she was. Maybe he was even more?

Jenny didn't leave MTAC until late that evening, it was gone seven and Gibbs had left the bullpen. Something that would have been completely out of the ordinary at one point in time, but that now was just another day. Because Gibbs frequently left earlier to go and see his wife – something Jenny had never witnessed happening with Diane. So as she walked out into the dusk bullpen she felt alone. The op was being brought forward to next week – something that had made her stomach knot up with worry inside. Gibbs would be flying out on the date she was originally meant to do so.

So Jenny Shepard would become Julietta De Sauveterre in just over a week. And that was a daunting thought - especially when there would be no Jethro beside of her.

The red head walked down to her desk, and grabbed her jacket deciding that it was time to go and face reality and speak to Jethro. So once she had turned her light off she made her way out. The whole time, beginning to realise just how much everything was about to change.

It wasn't like the old days, Jenny couldn't just walk straight in without a second thought. And that was something it would take a very long time to get used to. There was another woman in the house, and it wouldn't all be dark. So Jenny stopped herself and knocked on the door, standing there and feeling slightly awkward. She hadn't really seen Stephanie since the day of the wedding, and even then she had attempted to avoid her at all costs. The door opened and Jenny plastered on a smile as Stephanie appeared. "Jenny? What a surprise we weren't expecting you!" The other red head said.

"Yeah, sorry I'm a bit impromptu, I need to speak to Jethro I'm afraid." She said smiling and walking in as Stephanie signalled for her to.

"Maybe you can get him out of this terrible mood! Half of me thinks it's about Moscow – I mean he'd bound to be stressed - but I'm just not sure!"

"I'm afraid that it's me." Jenny said a little light-heartedly.

"Oh I'm sure it's not! I'm looking forward to Moscow, I hear it's beautiful in the spring – if we're there for that long."

"Personally I'm hoping we're not, but it is meant to be beautiful." Jenny said, the thought of being there for that long turning her stomach. Her plan was to be in and out as quickly and cleanly as humanly possible.

"Oh of course! Sorry I forget it's not a holiday. Anyway, he's in the basement, take yourself down."

"Thanks." Jenny said before heading down the rickety stairs. It was dark down there and her senses were almost immediately captured by the iconic smell of bourbon and sawdust that filled the room. It was a smell that brought back so many memories of evenings spend down in this dark room putting the world to right. And it broke her heart to think that she couldn't even turn his head away from his boat anymore.

"Thought I heard someone." He said, not looking at her but walking over and downing the rest of his bourbon before refilling that and a second mason jar. Jenny didn't wait to be offered; she just walked over and took it before perching on the edge of his work surface. They remained silent, and she drank the whiskey – relishing the burn at the back of her throat. When nearly five minutes had passed she knew she had to say something.

"The op had been brought forwards, I leave next week." She said, watching as the muscles under his t-shirt went rigid at the thought. And that was precisely what told her he still cared. After everything that had happened and been said he still was scared of her going alone.

"We'll manage." He said, not sure whether or not he was meant to be nice or if an argument was brewing. But he knew she wasn't telling him because of the team but because she wanted to meant things. However his stubborn pride was not budging.

"It's not you I'm worrying about." She said, but neither replied. "Jethro . . . I-" And without breaking one of his rules she couldn't do anything. Jenny no longer held the power that was required to repair the significantly large crack that was residing in their relationship.

"What happened Jen?" And the nickname made her want to cry. He hadn't called her that in such a long time now. "I come back to work and you're just like ice. You're cold and –"

"You came back and expected everything to be the same? Hell Jethro how could everything be the same? You are married, and not two minutes after Paris!"

"Nothing happened in Parish Jenny!" And he watched her look away. Jethro realised then how wrong he was. Nothing physical had happened, but emotionally he realised he must have been blind. "Is that what this is about?"

"No Jethro, this is about me going on the op early." She lied – blatantly. And he just acknowledged it. Watching as she downed the remainder of her bourbon.

"Well then, if that is it then everything is fine." He said and she just nodded, placing her mason jar back down on the wooden plank she was sitting on.

"Good." She said, but she was just as aware as he was that everything was far from fine. "You're flying out earlier too, so you might want to tell Stephanie – I'm sure she has shopping to do."

"You'll be alright." And Jenny wasn't sure what he was talking about, because there were so many things that in that moment she was far from alright with. But they were obviously things to be dealt with on another day. One when there wasn't a wife upstairs listening or an op on both of their minds. So she answered with yet another lie.

"I always am." And with that they both turned to look up as Stephanie stood there waiting to ask a question.

"Jenny would you like to stay for something to eat?" But she knew that wasn't her place – once upon a time maybe, but not now. So she politely declined and the woman went back into the kitchen. His partner then stood up and made her way over to the stairs, but his words stopped her.

"I'll have your six Jenny." And as she fought against the tears of fear about to cascade down her face, she responded in a barely audible whisper.

"Semper fi." And with that she left the house, and Gibbs, and in a week she would leave the life she had. Everything was about to change, and yet all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and got back to a time when things were so very much simpler.

A time when she knew just where she stood.