Thank you so much for reading! And an extra big thank you to alix33, iwannagibbs and Esquinzo for reviewing- it truly does mean a lot that you took the time! x

This had been the worst idea she'd ever had. And Jenny had had some incredibly foolish ones in her life. But calling Jethro here? Sharing a house with him? And not only him, but his two agents who were completely indiscreet in their smirks and glances between them.

"I wasn't planning on having so much company," she tossed over her shoulder as she let them into the small house. "My partner and I are in one bedroom- there's another spare, and then the sofa. I'll let you divide them up."

She didn't see the way Jethro's head shot round at her words, eyes piercing into her back. She was too preoccupied with her own amusement, wondering how exactly they would allocate the sleeping arrangements. She'd be surprised if Jethro allowed his young female agent to take the sofa- the traditionalist in him simply wouldn't allow it. At least, it wouldn't have five years ago. Maybe things had changed.

"If you want to put your bags upstairs and clean up, the bedroom's on the left, bathroom is next door." Jenny walked through to the small kitchen, and starting hunting down four mugs, glad she'd thought to brew coffee before leaving that morning. She needed a minute, to calm down the emotions that swirled inside her.

She heard footsteps on the wooden stairs, good-natured bickering that told her it was Tony and Kate who had taken her up on her offer. But she was almost certain that there hadn't been a third set of feet following them, which meant that Jethro was behind her somewhere. She couldn't hear the slightest brush of material, nothing to suggest he was moving around and she longed to turn, to find out what he was doing. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction though. "How does your team take their coffee?"

There was a beat of silence. Long enough that she wondered if she'd been wrong. "Let them fix it themselves," came the eventual answer. "You're not here to wait on them."

Had she surprised him? Now wasn't that a thought. Wordlessly, she nudged a cup to the side. "Strong and black."

Now, she heard him move. Quietly, but unmistakeable as he entered the kitchen properly and stepped closer, into her personal space. She really should have expected him to crowd her, to stand closer than was necessary so that he was almost leaning around her to pick up the cup. His own little show of dominance and she rolled her eyes at it, pretending her heart wasn't now thumping against her ribcage.

"Thanks, Jen." His voice was low and gravelly, too close to her ear and the bastard was doing this on purpose. Jenny tried to muster up some irritation, couldn't quite manage it. She was too busy fighting back memories of the last time Jethro had been this close to her, talking into her ear like that with the smell of coffee in the air.

Sometimes, she missed how simple things had been back then.

A clattering on the stairs told them they would soon have company, and just like that, Jethro was gone. Leant up against doorframe as if he'd always been there and when Tony rounded the banister of the stairs, it was as if nothing had happened. "Coffee, Agent DiNozzo." Jenny gestured towards the cup, and his face brightened.

"You're an angel."

Five minutes later and Kate had joined them too, coffee cup in hand as they settled onto various chairs around the living room. "You saw McKidd." Gibbs wasted no more time, gaze settling on his former agent, who seemed remarkably at ease to find three sets of eyes suddenly on her.

"There's a café not far from here- I was coming in as he was coming out."

Kate couldn't hide her scepticism. "And you recognised him? Seven years later?"

"You've obviously not seen Jethro on a case like this yet," Jenny said dryly, and ignored the way the man scowled at her. "That man's face sat on a board by our desks for months. We practically ate, slept and breathed his life. Trust me, I recognised him."

Gibbs glared at her. "He recognise you?"

"He wasn't looking at my face."

It took a second for that to register, for Jethro to look at her incredulously while Tony badly covered up a snort of laughter. Jenny leant back, satisfied, and sipped at her coffee. "I asked around at the café. The girl behind the counter said he's a regular morning customer, comes in several times a week. Though she wasn't sure if he ever came in later as well, there was nobody around who worked that shift."

Kate had a look that clearly meant she wasn't quite sure what to make of her. "So McKidd steals the money, hides it away and when it looks as if he'll be caught, he runs. Fakes his death, lives it up here in Cyprus. But the wife is what? Collateral damage?"

"He killed her." Gibbs' voice was quiet and certain.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "File said it was undetermined."

"DiNozzo, if you're on a boat and it catches fire, do you stay and burn? Or do you jump in the water?"

There was a long silence. Until Kate swallowed thickly. "She couldn't get off."

"Toxicology was inconclusive," Jenny said quietly. "But there was no sign of restraints, nothing stopping her from jumping overboard."

"She was drugged."

"That was our guess. And then she was just… left there to burn alive."

NCIS

Jethro's new team was good, Jenny had to admit. It was difficult to tell, but she had a feeling they hadn't been working together for that long- they didn't seem to have that instinctive rhythm yet that team members who frequently partnered up over long periods of time seemed to have. That said, they were certainly in sync, competent and professional as they planned out how to catch McKidd.

She walked them down to café, showed them the area and the surrounding streets. Agreed with the plan to have one person inside, another person out. And tried not to grind her teeth when it was agreed it was too risky for her and Gibbs to be on the ground. There was too much of a chance that McKidd would recognise them- she'd lucked out once, a second time was pushing it.

To her surprise, Gibbs agreed too, but seemed unhappy, brooding from his place at the table in the kitchen. "You want to share?" she asked absently, still scanning over her file. "Or are you going to keep it to yourself?"

He drummed his fingers against the tabletop. "I want the accomplice."

That had Jenny looking up. "We don't even have proof there was one."

"He faked his death, Jen. From a boat in the middle of the ocean. Didn't do that without help."

Jenny sighed, pushing stiffly to her feet to come and sit next to him. "We kept tabs on every person in his life," she said, more softly than she'd initially intended. "We ran backgrounds and financials, we followed their families. There wasn't a single indication any of them were on the take or helping McKidd."

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Gibbs' voice rose without warning, eyes flashing and turning stormy. "Then how did he do it? How did he get off that boat unscathed?"

"Any number of ways!" Jenny had to resist the urge to throw her hands in the air. She'd forgotten about this part of working with him. "Maybe he had a dingy! Or paid someone to come and pick him up!"

Gibbs was already shaking his head. "Not his style."

"Come on, Jethro…"

"We profiled this guy." He leant forward, gaze pinning hers and trapping her. "He was painstakingly methodical, calm, collected. He left nothing to chance. He had a bag packed and ready to run, he had a premade out. He wouldn't have run the risk of paying someone and having them let him down."

For a moment, he thought she was going to argue. She never flinched from his gaze, mulled his words over even as she stared right back at him. "Then we put him under surveillance," she said eventually, and couldn't hide the twitch of her lips when she saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes. "Maybe he'll do something that will give us a lead. And if he doesn't, then we can arrest him as planned."

"That could take a while." And there was something like a challenge in his eyes. She smirked, shrugged as she leant back in her chair.

"Don't have anywhere I need to be."

He quirked a smile, and for a moment, they simply looked at each other. Until something flashed in his eyes, and he sobered abruptly, his expression wiping away any lingering lightness in her own. "Jen…"

Jenny would never be sure if she was grateful or not that Kate and Tony chose that moment to re-enter the house, laughing about something or other as the smell of the food they'd collected wafted in with them. And even though Gibbs didn't move a muscle, she could see him withdraw, the shutters coming down so quickly that if she'd have blinked, she'd have missed it.

It was almost too easy to get the director on board with their plan. Between both Jenny and Gibbs, he didn't stand a chance and within minutes they had the green light to turn this into a surveillance operation. Not that that did any good tonight- all three were flagging, Jenny could see. Understandable, she supposed, considering they had lost a night's sleep by travelling. A nap on an airplane was no substitute for an actual bed.

To her surprise, however, Gibbs didn't insist on discussing the case over dinner. Instead, he was almost silent as Tony attempted to pry into Jenny's personal life with precisely no finesse, and Kate yoyoed between trying to laughingly help with his attempts and commiserating with Jenny, who thought the whole thing was highly amusing. She dropped hints to Tony about various things, wondering how long it would take him to realise they all wildly conflicted.

And then almost as quickly as the levity started, it died down. Kate was almost asleep with her chin on her hand, while Tony looked dazed, blinking harshly as he fought to stay upright. Jenny laughed softly. These two were out of practice, they weren't that sleep deprived yet and the sun hadn't even set outside. "Bed for you two, I think. I'll get the dishes."

There were two mumbled choruses of thanks, before they traipsed out of the room without so much as a glance towards Gibbs. And Jenny tried not to feel a surge of petty triumph at that, she really did. Instead she avoided his gaze herself, gathering up plates and glasses and twisting on the hot water at the sink. He was still awake, but silent and somehow that was more unsettling.

Especially when she turned to place a dripping glass on the drying rack, and found him right next to her.

Jenny gasped, jerking, barely managed to keep the glass from slipping through her fingers. And Jethro, the bastard, he just smirked, eyes dancing with laughter. "Don't do that!" Her hiss was more out of embarrassment than genuine anger and it seemed he knew it, because his smirk only grew wider.

"I'll dry." He plucked the glass from her hand, grabbed a tea towel from the side. He was seemingly oblivious to the odd look Jenny was giving him, but she didn't complain. It was faster with two, after all.

For a while, they washed and dried in relative silence, broken only by Jenny quietly pointing out which cupboards certain items lived in. It was gradual but eventually she relaxed, reminded how comfortable it could be to simply exist in silence with this man. Through the open window, a faint breeze blew, bringing with it the faint sounds of life outside. Laughter and music carried in on the warm air and rather than being intrusive, it was almost comforting, the reminder that life existed outside of murderers and death.

"I'm going out for a bit." Jenny had spoken before she'd even realised that she'd made the decision to go, felt her cheeks heat when Jethro just looked at her. "I'll try not to wake you when I come back in."

He continued to stare silently at her. The dishes were done, the kitchen relatively clean so without another word she hooked her fingers in her jacket and left, his eyes burning into her back the entire time.

It was mere minutes walk through the cobbled streets until she'd emerged from the shadow of buildings into open air, the breeze stronger here, faintly rustling the leaves in the few trees yet not strong enough to drown out the sounds of waves lapping against the brick wall. There were less people, less holidaymakers, especially at this time of the evening when the restaurants and wakening nightlife held a much bigger draw. But Jenny liked it. It was peaceful, to lower herself to sit on the stone wall next to a snoozing cat and watch the waves below, to enjoy the simple joy of feeling the evening sun warm her skin. She'd forgotten, along the way, the life could include small pleasures as well. This island had forcibly reminded her.

She hadn't been sat there long when she sensed movement behind her, a rustle of fabric that somehow didn't alarm her as much as it could. She should have expected it really. "You followed me."

Jethro had helped himself to the space next to her, expression infuriatingly calm. "There's a murderer on the loose, Jen."

"I've been here for weeks. You think he's suddenly going to decide to kill me now?" Instead of answering, he simply tilted his head at her, and once again she found herself rolling her eyes. "Right, forgot who I was talking to."

She carefully leant backwards against the pillar behind her, and tried her best to ignore him. She was aware, though, of the fact that his gaze was fixed on her instead of the view, and discomfort trickled down her spine. "Don't you need to sleep?"

He just smirked. And Jenny gave up on her peaceful evening, resting her head back and looking at him properly. Despite her words that morning, he really hadn't changed much. His hair was little lighter, perhaps, the lines around his eyes a little deeper. But the colour was just as she'd remembered, and she was almost certain the shirt he was wearing was one he'd had when she'd still been his probie.

He studied her right back in return. She tried her best not to squirm under his gaze, wondered what he was seeing. She looked older, she knew. Years of high-stress assignments had left their mark, she was no longer the fresh-faced rookie he'd once known.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she questioned eventually, and he tilted his head slightly.

"How long are you in timeout for?"

Jenny's jaw dropped, before she caught it and snapped it shut again. How could he possibly have known? "What are you talking about?"

He made a noise that from anyone else, she would have called a laugh. "You think I don't know what you look like when you're covering up a healing black eye with your makeup?" His voice was coloured with amusement, a finger brushing over her cheekbone and suddenly the only movement from her was the fluttering of her hair in the breeze.

"Jethro..."

"Your wrist is weak," he said, and abruptly all trace of laughter in his voice was gone. "And you haven't lifted your arm above your shoulder all day. You move stiffly, probably broken ribs. And you limp ever so slightly as you walk. Stitches in your thigh."

As he spoke, he trailed his finger down her body, ghosting over each mentioned area, punctuating his words. And Jenny could only swallow thickly, words failing her. Because of course he'd noticed. How could she have thought that he wouldn't?

"What happened, Jen?"

She didn't hesitate before she answered. "That's classified."

"C'mon, Jenny. It's me." For the first time, frustration swirled through his eyes, coloured his words and it was that more than anything that gave her pause.

"You know I can't tell you."

He leant forward, eyes narrowing. "If it was just a beating, just injuries, they'd have holed you up in a safehouse for a couple of weeks and called it bad luck. They ship you here, to an island in the sun, you need more recovery than just physical. You were held. For a couple of days, maybe, or you'd have more injuries. Am I close?"

Jenny stared at him, almost breathless. Unable to look away, unable to refute what he was saying. And unable to stop him from saying it.

"You said you hadn't been here long, so you were sent here, from somewhere close. We're in the Middle East. Probably anti-terrorism ops."

Tears pricked at Jenny's eyes and she hurriedly tried to blink them away, pulling back in the hopes Jethro wouldn't see them. Sometimes, she thought she could still feel that rope around her wrist. Feel the pain of her ribs giving way under the weight of a boot, the way her lungs screamed for air as water was tipped over her face.

"Jen." Fingers were sliding over hers, grounding her and she blinked, desert clearing from her eyes. Jethro was watching her, forehead creased. When he noticed her focused on him, his expression changed, became something that she knew was the closest thing to an apology she was going to get.

"An informant turned on us," she whispered and with anyone else, her words would have been carried away on the breeze. "My partner found me, got me out. She saved my life. And is now risking hers without backup."

If Gibbs had a reaction to hearing her partner's gender, he didn't show it. "What do you mean?"

Jenny was rubbing the area of her leg that had been held together by stitches, the movement apparently an unconscious one. "The op… it's surveillance at the moment, we could manage with only one person in the field. So Ziva is working alone, and I'm on information coordination until the doctor clears me."

There was something unreadable in his face, and Jenny was abruptly hit with a wave of exhaustion. "That's far more than I should have told you," she murmured, frowning as she looked away from him, back towards the waves.

"Not gonna tell anyone, Jen. You know that."

She glanced at him, and with a sigh, settled back against the bricks, closed her eyes. Listened to the waves lapping at the wall, felt the breeze against her skin. And pretended she couldn't feel his gaze fixed on her.