Thank you to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter- it means a lot! x

Jenny was wide awake. So was Ziva. She knew that Ziva was awake. Ziva knew that she was awake. But both were lying in bed, in darkness, each pretending to sleep while also pretending not to know the other one wasn't asleep.

Jenny had to admit it didn't make much sense.

With a sigh, she rolled over and came face to face with Ziva, who's eyes were wide open. "Why aren't you asleep?"

Ziva quirked an eyebrow. "Why aren't you?"

"I asked first."

She gave a small huff, and settled into a comfier position. "I am not used to this," she murmured quietly. "Watching and waiting while a man I know should not be allowed his freedom is wandering the streets."

Jenny understood that completely.

"Now it is your turn, yes?"

Her heart sank. For a moment, she considered lying. But Ziva would know, she always knew, it was one of her more unsettling abilities. "Have you ever been… like in Cairo?"

There was silence for several beats. "Not exactly the same," Ziva said carefully. "But… similar, yes."

"And you were okay afterwards? You just… moved on?"

There was another silence, and for a moment Jenny feared she wasn't going to answer. When she did, her voice was still carefully controlled. "I thought I was. I thought that it would be… a weakness. If I were not okay."

"But you weren't?"

Ziva didn't do personal conversations, not like this. She would talk about inconsequential things- martial arts, cooking, even her sister, though admittedly that one had only entered into conversation after a particularly terrible case. But her feelings, her emotions? They were often out of bounds. Now, however, she merely shifted her weight again before answering. "I almost killed an innocent man during a mission. He had the misfortune of resembling the man who had hurt me, and for a moment… I could not tell the difference."

"What happened?"

"I realised in time. Finished my mission. Once I was home, my brother came and took me to a gym far outside the city. It was full of men, and he told them to fight me. All of them."

Jenny gaped at her. "What?"

She shrugged lightly, the best she could while still lying down. "It worked. I fought them all, and I won. I was the strongest person there. Ari made sure I knew it. The nightmares, the memories… they faded, after that, with time."

Jenny considered that for a moment, staring into the darkness. "I don't think that'd work for me."

Ziva chuckled, and to Jenny's shock, reached out and entwined their hands. "No," she agreed. "But I think the point is probably the same. Time has already healed you, Jenny. You could not have lain in the darkness like this a month ago. You are getting better, even if you do not see it."

Jenny swallowed thickly. "I flinched away from Jethro earlier."

"He took offense?"

"No." She shook her head. "He seemed… horrified, more than anything. And worried."

"He cares about you."

"He feels responsible for his former partner."

"You care about him also."

Jenny frowned. "Ziva…"

"You thought you would be able to hide it?" Amusement danced through her voice. "He cares just as much, you know. You can see it in his eyes."

"Ziva!"

She chuckled again, having no doubt that her friends' cheeks were bright red. "You should let him in, Jenny. It is not often that we are given a second chance with those we love."

The lightness of the conversation had died, and Jenny felt her face settle into serious lines. "I hurt him."

"And yet, he came when you called."

Jenny swallowed thickly, unable to deny it. McKidd or not, Jethro hadn't even hesitated. He could have had someone else to come, could have ordered McKidd's arrest and extradition back to the states. But he hadn't. He'd come knowing it would put the two of them in close proximity, knowing they would have to talk.

She squeezed her eyes closed. "He hurt me," she said softly, the first time she had admitted as much aloud. Because he had hurt her. Perhaps not in ways immediately understandable to an outsider, but present and real all the same.

Ziva's voice was quiet and knowing through the darkness. "And yet, still you called him."

NCIS

McKidd was definitely up to something. The routine they had all spent the previous days watching was gone, his days now spent meeting various suspicious characters that Jenny found herself in charge of trying to identify. It was frustrating, mind-numbing work. But their explanations about McKidd and the case to the director had inadvertently revealed her field work, and she had found herself on the end of a sharp reminder that she was yet to be cleared. And so she found herself confined to desk work once more, sat in front of her computer whilst the others continued the surveillance. That, and act as a house mother for the motley crew she was living with. Food shopping, cleaning- she was the one usually in the house for extended periods, so the day-to-day running fell to her.

She hated it. Everything within her wanted to rebel. The house felt too small with five adults living in it, even if at least one of them was always away surveilling McKidd. It seemed as if there was always someone in the kitchen, or the bathroom, or Gibbs was asleep on the sofa, or Kate and Tony were bickering on the stairs and Jenny had spent the last several years sharing her space with one person at the most. This… this was beginning to get to her.

It had led her here. Ziva was on surveillance duty tonight, with Tony. Kate had murmured something about being gone for a while and had wandered out the house with her sketchbook in hand, unnoticed by Gibbs who was reclined on the sofa, hat over his face. Grateful for the silence, Jenny was sat in the doorway to the house, face turned towards the breeze, desperately trying to clamp down on the unsettled feeling deep inside her. She couldn't pinpoint what it was. It was as if her very bones were itching, a restlessness from within that had her wanting to scream out against the entire world.

It wasn't just the case, or the fact she'd been effectively benched for the past several weeks. It was something else entirely. Jenny swallowed thickly, shifted so that the evening sunshine wasn't blinding her and closed her eyes, head resting back against the doorframe.

It seemed hours, and no time at all before she was pulled out of her reverie. Unknown to her, she'd been under observation for several minutes. Gibbs had woken suddenly, and surprised to find the house shockingly quiet, had gone looking for his agents. Instead, he'd found Jenny. Illuminated in the evening light, the golden glow highlighting the hues her hair, the angles of her face.

For a moment, he could only stare.

It had taken several attempts at swallowing before he combatted the dryness in his mouth, voice gruff where he tried to keep it steady.

"Jen?"

She deliberately didn't look around, didn't move from her spot. "I thought you were asleep."

There was a rustle of fabric as Gibbs came closer, and she had no doubt he was frowning at her. But he remained silent, his gaze causing the back of her neck to prickle and she'd played this game with him before. She was better at it now. She didn't say anything either, didn't turn around. A game of chicken, and she won. He came to lean on the door frame where her feet were resting, looming over her. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nope."

Now, she looked at him. Green eyes bright in the sunlight, stormy from the strength of her emotions. Emotions that didn't seem to match the current situation, and Gibbs' brow furrowed.

Jenny scowled at him. "Stop looking at me like that."

He just lifted an eyebrow at her.

"Damnit, Jethro."

She lost the game this time. She looked away first, jaw clenched. And before he'd even processed what she was doing, she had pushed to her feet, a little stiffly, and moved as if to brush past him back into the house.

He caught her gently around the waist before she could. "Jen, talk to me."

"How can I?" Her voice was choked, and she swallowed thickly. "I don't even understand it myself, Jethro, I wouldn't be able to explain it to you."

"Maybe you don't have to."

There was something akin to understanding in his expression, and it stilled her, halting her intentions to pull away from him in their tracks. His hand was like an iron where it rested on the curve of her waist, burning like a brand and he was so close she could feel the heat from his body, his eyes never moving from hers.

She blinked furiously. "What's wrong with me?" It slipped out before she could help him. She had spent so long with this man as the one who she went to with a problem, it was all too natural to do the same now, seeking something only he had ever offered her.

"Nothing." Came his instant answer. "You went through something. You're adjusting."

She scoffed, hoping it hid the hoarseness of her voice. "I was fine, until you arrived."

"You were hiding," he corrected. "Repressing."

"Pot, meet kettle."

His mouth settled into that half-smile, half-knowing look that made him oh so smug. "You're safe, Jen."

"I know that."

"That's my point." His voice had dropped, lower and quieter, and Jenny suddenly found it just a bit harder to breathe. "Your mind knows it. So it isn't pushing down all the bad stuff anymore."

He wasn't expected to be abruptly shoved away from her. "What do you know?" Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Who made you a shrink?"

"Think I haven't seen it before?" His hands settled into his pockets as he leant against the wall, looking entirely unbothered. But Jenny was shaking her head.

"This has nothing to do with Cairo. This is something else."

"Cairo?" Jethro frowned at her, and she froze. Had he already known that? She couldn't remember. Probably not, judging by the way he was looking at her right now. She'd mentioned Cairo when she'd briefed his team, she knew. Told them there were terrorists cells operating there, violent ones, and now there was no way he hadn't put even more pieces together.

"Forget I said that."

He sighed. "You going to stop pushing me away anytime soon?"

"It's classified!"

"Damnit Jenny!"

His anger was entirely unexpected. His whole body stiff, and she suspected that in another situation he'd have stepped forward, crowded her. But he restrained himself, practically vibrating in place as he glared at her. "Why won't you let me help you?"

"Why are you trying to?"

Now, he just looked utterly incredulous. "What?"

"Why are you trying to help me?" If she'd have been more centred, she would never have started this line of questioning. But she couldn't help herself. It had been burning inside of her since she'd seen him at the airport, had only flared hotter with every interaction over the past couple of days. "After everything, why would you bother?"

His simple shrug was infuriating. "We're partners."

Now that… that short-circuited her brain. Because… what? She slowly shook her head at him. "Not anymore."

He smiled. "Some things don't end." He stepped forward, and this time her breath definitely stopped when his fingers came up to brush against her cheek. "I missed you, Jen."

What?

She stared at him, eyes wide, confusion flooding every cell of her body. This… this didn't compute. Didn't make even the slightest bit of sense, and she hadn't even realised she was shaking her head until she noticed his hand had fallen away and she was stepping backwards, away from him, away from all of this. Her heart thudding in her chest, the sound filling her ears, her breathing ragged and too loud and she stepped away again, and then again until one, single course of action occurred to her and she took it without hesitation.

Jenny ran.

Perhaps it was childish. Perhaps it was self-preservation. Regardless, she did it anyway, fleeing into the fading daylight outside and ignoring the way her ribs ached and her leg throbbed every time her feet hit the ground below them.

She didn't have a particular destination in mind. She simply picked a direction and stuck with it, ignoring the odd looks she gained, ignoring the fact she no longer knew where she was. And pretending not to realise or care that she was now alone without so much as a phone or a weapon. Something most people didn't worry about, she reminded herself, catching herself against a wall and sucking in great gulps of air. Most people didn't even consider carrying a knife when they left the house.

Though admittedly, most people hadn't spent several years of their life in the company of Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

She ran until she couldn't anymore, until her lungs screamed while her muscles burnt, and not in a good way. Until the light had all but completely faded, and she had to admit her body wouldn't take much more.

A nearby bench was the perfect place to collapse. The warm night air was the perfect balm. She just wished it were enough- it was too much, all of this. Jethro, his team, McKidd. It all twisted inside her, knotting around her lungs and she wished, not for the first time, that she had someone to talk to, to unload on.

It seemed cruel karma that Jethro had offered to be that person. She didn't understand him. Didn't understand her reaction to him. However much she'd hurt him, she'd hurt herself as well all those years ago. Her actions had revealed to the both of them just how far she was willing to go, how ruthless she could truly be when she needed to, and she hadn't liked the discovery. Whatever her reasons, allowing him to believe she would be returning the DC with him, leaving with nothing but a letter explaining herself? That had been... cruel. And she hadn't liked that she was capable of that.

She'd shoved it down, pushed it deep inside and it was so much easier to forget about it when she was busy chasing terrorists and the people who supplied them, so much easier when the man who was such a vivid reminder was half the globe away. But now he wasn't. Not only was he here, sharing a house with her, he was so perfectly controlled, so kind that sometimes it was almost possible to forget just how furious he must be with her.

Jenny closed her eyes, but it wasn't enough to stop her tears from escaping and slipping down her cheeks.

NCIS

Jenny wasn't sure how long she'd been gone, but it was far longer than she'd planned. She'd sat on the bench until she no longer felt like screaming, and then sat there for another while just to be safe. By that time, night had truly fallen, darkness surrounding her and the air chilling her very bones.

It was only when she began the walk back to the house that she realised it was far longer than she'd thought it would be- she had run further than she'd appreciated at the time, and it was well over an hour before she even encountered a street that she knew and by the time the now-familiar front door had come into view, her muscles felt like jelly. She had been on rest for over a month, healing from her injuries and although she was almost back to normality day-to-day, this was the most physically active she'd been. And she was paying for it.

She ignored the way her hand shook when she reached out for the door, ignored the way her ribs screamed when she slipped inside. She didn't bother with lights, finding her way through the darkness upstairs to her bedroom. It was lit well enough by the moonlight through the window- she wasn't too proud to cling to the dresser with one hand as she slowly toed her shoes off, wondering if Ziva would notice if she slept in her clothes.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Jenny gasped, and almost lost her balance when her fingers slipped away from the wood. "Jesus, Jethro!"

He stood up from the chair by the window, emerging from the shadows that had hidden him on first glance. Foolish, Jenny berated herself absently. She could have been killed if that had been someone else.

"What are you doing in here?" She glared at him, hoped he didn't notice the way staying upright was a challenge for her.

He ignored her question, hissing at her furiously. "Do you have any idea how long you've been gone?"

The honest answer was no. She could hazard a guess though. "Why do you care?" Her voice was weary and tired; she didn't bother to wait for an answer before she practically stumbled towards the bed, groping blindly to pull find the covers only to give up, and simply fall on top of them.

It took her a moment to realise Jethro had never answered. Instead, when his voice came through the darkness it was concerned instead of angry, and she heard more than saw his movement towards her. "Jen? What's wrong?"

She closed her eyes. "Nothing, Jethro. Go to bed."

There was a brush of fabric, a soft creak of a floorboard. And then the touch of his fingertips against her cheek had her eyes flying open again, her surprised gasp barely silenced.

"Oh Jen..." his sigh was like a physical knife stabbing into her.

"Don't you dare!" She knocked his hand away. "Don't you dare pity me!"

"Never."

The answer came so swiftly and surely that her anger died down as quickly as it had risen, and she faltered, suddenly unsure.

"Let me help you." His voice was quiet, soft, and she had no idea what to say, how to respond and he seemed to take that as acquiescence, because the next thing she knew his hands were sliding around her, lifting her ever so slightly so that he could wiggle the covers from underneath her body. The movement pressed Jenny against him, and despite the exhaustion that seemed to penetrate her very bones, the feeling had her heart thumping in her chest.

She wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, pressed her face against his shoulder. And wondered if it were better to pretend not to notice when his own pulse jumped and fluttered.

"Jenny." He pulled back, just enough that he could see her face and run his thumb across her cheek. It was only then that Jenny realised she was crying, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes closed, turning her head away.

Jethro gently brushed a lock of her hair back. "Jen…"

"I'm fine." Her voice cracked, and she resolutely ignored it. "I'm fine, I'm just tired."

"Come here."

She didn't fight him when he gently moved her closer to the centre of the bed, slipping in behind her before carefully tucking the covers around her body. She didn't fight when he pulled her against him, enfolding her into his arms. And she definitely didn't fight the urge to rest her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes and pretending not to notice the tears that still escaped.

"I don't understand," she whispered. And almost gasped when she felt him press a kiss to her hair.

"Sleep, Jenny."