A/N: Hope you enjoy! See if you can figure out the secret Jenny's keeping from Gibbs.


Gibbs

It had been two long weeks since he'd seen or heard Jenny Shepard in her apartment, and though she'd texted him to let him know she was out of town, it still made it no less boring. When he finally did hear the sound of her heels on the floor and her voice speaking to someone on the phone, he wasn't surprised to hear the annoyed tone of her voice. If she was as busy as he'd imagined her to be, he knew she likely hadn't slept at all in the past two weeks, and he didn't doubt that she was desperate for some relief.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that fact. You are speaking to the person in control of her assets. No, that isn't possible."

Figuring she was discussing something to do with her sister, Gibbs shrugged, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. He certainly didn't envy her that task.

"Surely you must realise that if she were capable of making these decisions herself, she wouldn't be in your facility. This is a major waste of time, seeing as all decisions have to be approved by myself or a lawyer. No, I don't want to speak to your manager. When you've decided that you're going to use the few brain cells that haven't killed themselves in your brain, give me a call."

It took everything Gibbs possessed not to laugh at her harsh remark, though he was now more confused than ever, and as he took a long drink from his glass, he had a sudden idea. Standing up quickly, he poured another glass, topping his own off, and as he made his way out into the hallway, he frowned. Maybe he was making a mistake. Maybe she wanted to be by herself for awhile. Figuring that she would certainly tell him if that were the case, he shoved his conflicting emotions to the back of his mind, carefully knocking on her door as he held the drinks in his hand.

It swung open quickly, revealing a Jenny Shepard that looked more exhausted than he'd ever seen her, and as she gave him a perplexed look, he held out the glass of bourbon.

"Though you could use this after your long week."

She smiled at him tiredly, accepting it with a nod, and as she stepped back to allow him in, she took a drink from the glass. He was strangely intrigued by the stain around the rim left by her deep red lipstick and she sat down on the couch, gesturing for him to do the same.

"Am I to assume that this oh-so-romantic gesture means that you've missed me?"

He shrugged.

"Told you, I got used to you."

She laughed, taking another drink.

"You know, we never finished our game of twenty questions."

He frowned, their game from months ago already long forgotten.

"Did we?"

She nodded.

"I'll start. If you had to marry the last person you had sex with for a million dollars, would you?"

He nodded.

"For that amount of money, I think anyone would."

He didn't add that the last person he'd slept with had been his ex-girlfriend Rebecca, knowing she wasn't seeking a deep conversation. Not right now.

"Would you?"

"Oh, God, no..." she laughed, "There isn't money enough in the world for me to marry Derek. Or Anthony DiNozzo, if we're excluding Derek."

He nearly choked on his drink, staring at her as though she'd gone insane, and she laughed at his gobsmacked expression.

"Relax, it was just sex. It's not like we were in love or anything. Nine times out of ten, I'm imagining all the ways I want to murder him."

Gibbs shook his head, looking at her seriously.

"Violence your idea of foreplay?"

Jenny shook her head, taking another long drink of her bourbon.

"Only in your most hardcore wet dreams, Jethro. Though I'm not opposed to a little rough sex. I draw the line at handcuffs, though."

Considering her past experience with her ex-boyfriend, Gibbs completely understood that one. He nodded as he took a drink, watching her carefully as she sat next to him. She seemed distracted, distant, and he frowned when he noticed that her hands were shaking.

"You okay?" he asked finally, watching her eyes as she swallowed.

She nodded, though he could see her heart wasn't in it, and he gave her a weird look, knowing she wasn't being honest with him.

"Don't lie to me, Jenny."

She sighed.

"I just have a lot going on. Between work and personal shit...I'm just a bit tired. I almost killed a suspect two weeks ago, and...let's just say it didn't end well. Got put on desk duty for awhile, and let me tell you...I finally understood the pain you go through every day at your job."

He glared at her, though it was a pale imitation of his usual stare, and she laughed.

"I'm kidding. But still...I think it was worth it. This man...he kidnapped his stepdaughters...ended up killing them both. He shot McGee, and when I caught up with him...let's just say he regretted that decision. He ended up with a broken wrist, a broken nose, and more than a few bruises."

Gibbs whistled, looking at her approvingly.

"Damn, Shepard."

She shrugged.

"Tony pulled me off of him. I...I probably would have killed him if..."

Taking a deep breath, Jenny shook her head firmly, her eyes determined.

"I wouldn't have cared. He killed those beautiful little girls...the oldest was six...youngest was four. What kind of fucking monster does that?"

Though he knew she wasn't seriously asking him for an answer, it still bothered him to no end that he didn't have the slightest clue.


Shepard

As soon as Jenny walked into the hospital, she immediately felt uneasy as she always did, but still she kept moving, knowing she would regret it if she didn't. The door was slightly open as she neared it, and when she knocked on it lightly, the nurse turned, giving her a warm smile.

"Jenny! How nice to see you again. How are you?"

Jenny returned the smile easily, nodding at the young woman.

"Hi, Natalie. I'm doing pretty good. How about you?"

"Can't complain."

Adjusting the blanket on the bed in front of her, Natalie checked the vital signs on final time before walking closer, handing her the clipboard in her hand.

"She's doing better today. She's out in the garden, if you want to see her."

Jenny nodded, reading over the clipboard quickly. After two years, she'd started to become proficient in the medical terminology, and she frowned as she realised there was a medication written down that hadn't been there the last time she'd visited.

"What is Vraylar, Natalie?"

Natalie smiled, taking the clipboard back and placing it on the end of the bed.

"It's an anti-psychotic. She's been a bit agitated lately, and we decided to try a newer medication to see how she would react. So far, it's worked very well, and if you'd like, I can schedule a consultation with her doctor as soon as he's available."

Jenny shook her head, giving her a smile.

"No, thanks. You've never been wrong before. So, can I see her now?"

"Of course. I'll walk with you, even though I know you know the way. Give you some company."

This was one of the reasons Natalie had always been one of Jenny's favourite nurses. She'd always taken the time to get to know her patients and their families, even going so far as to give Jenny her personal number if she'd ever had any questions. It had mattered more to her than the redhead had ever let on, and as she walked with the nurse to their destination, she found herself smiling in spite of her situation.

As they rounded the corner, Jenny braced herself as she always did, and when she saw the woman sitting in the wicker chair at the tiny table, a porcelain tea set sitting in front of her, she smiled sadly.

"Thanks, Natalie. I've got it from here."

"Call if you need anything."

Jenny nodded, taking deliberate steps as she made her way closer, and as she sat down in the chair opposite the other woman, she forced a smile onto her face.

"Hi, Mom. How are you today?"

There was no immediate answer, and as Jenny reached for the teapot, pouring herself a cup of tea, she sighed sadly.

"Jenny? When did you get here?"

Jenny smiled, reaching for her mother's hand, holding it gently. Today was a good day, it seemed.

"A few minutes ago. How are you feeling today?"

"Good. The flowers are being very talkative today, and I had a feeling you would come."

Frowning as she took a small drink of her tea, Jenny looked at her mother, checking to see that nothing drastic had changed. Her hair was the same, long and red, streaks of silver throughout, and her eyes, so blue that they were nearly translucent, had never changed, though they were somewhat dulled by her medication. The only change was the shaking in her hands as she reached for her teacup, and that was easily written off as a side effect, so Jenny felt somewhat confident in her assessment that her mother was doing rather well considering the circumstances.

"Did the flowers tell you I would be here today?" she asked.

Her mother nodded, looking at her excitedly.

"They've been telling me such wonderful things, Jenny. I knew you would be here, and Heather will be here soon, too."

Hearing her sister's name was like a knife to her heart, but Jenny kept her expression guarded, carefully taking her mother's hand in her own.

"Mom...Heather isn't coming back. You...you know that, right?"

"Don't be silly, Jennifer," her mother said sternly, a flash of her former self flickering through in her tone, "Heather always comes. She's here every day. Sometimes it's late at night, but she's always here."

As much as it was killing her to stay silent, Jenny didn't have the heart to correct her, opting instead to bring her hand to her lips in a gentle kiss.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Jenny. I love both my girls more than anything in the world."

In all her life, Jennifer Shepard had never imagined such loving words would cause her heart to shatter into a million pieces.


As she dropped her keys onto her kitchen table, Jenny briefly wondered if her neighbour was home, and after walking back out to the hallway to knock on his door, she was saddened to find that he hadn't made it home yet. Not, she supposed, that it really mattered. She wasn't really in the mood for a simple makeout session tonight, and as she struggled to keep her emotions in check, she soon realised she was fighting a losing battle.

Pulling out her phone, she began dialing quickly, each ring of the phone making her more anxious as each second ticked by, and when she finally heard that familiar click, she tensed.

"DiNozzo."

"You busy right now?"

"Kind of. I'm stuck in traffic. Been here for about an hour. Something come up?"

Jenny sighed, running her hand through her hair in irritation.

"Not exactly."

"Okaaaayyyy...something bothering you?"

"In a sense."

DiNozzo paused, and Jenny could practically see the wheels in his head turning.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. I'm free if you want to talk."

"Just because you stumbled across some personal information about my life doesn't make us friends, DiNozzo. I'm your boss."

He laughed, and Jenny was saddened by the bitter tone in his voice.

"You're more than just my boss, Shep. Or did you forget that we're partners? Used to be in more ways than one."

"Tony, that doesn't mean we were in a relationship. It just meant that we saw an opportunity for casual sex and we took it."

"I know that. Jesus, Red...you really think we could ever be more than that? We'd kill each other. Personally, I think you should make a move on your blue-eyed neighbour friend. I bet you could get it. You're damn good, you know."

Jenny laughed.

"Coming from you, that's a compliment."

"Yeah, I know. Anyway, what's bothering you, Shep? You don't call just to talk. You're not Abby."

Sighing, Jenny sank down onto her couch, throwing her arm over the back as she did so, and shook her head.

"I went to see my mother today."

"Yeah? How's Maddie doing? Any improvement?"

"No," she said, her voice betraying her exhaustion, "She said Heather was going to visit today. I tried to explain it again, but..."

"Damn...I'm sorry, Jenny. That really does suck. Is there anything I could do that doesn't involve sex?"

"I doubt it," she admitted slowly, "I just really needed to forget. To get out of my head for a bit."

Laughing again, DiNozzo took a drink from his cup, loudly placing it back into his cup holder, and Jenny cringed at the sound. Her nerves were completely shot, and she didn't think she had it in her to block out the annoyances as she normally would have.

"You always need to get out of your head, Jenny. You think too much. I'm telling you, hit up your neighbour. He'd sleep with you, I'm sure of it."

"Thanks. And Tony? I didn't mean what I said earlier. I do consider you a friend."

"I know. I'm probably the sexiest friend you have, and you just hate to admit it."

Forcing a laugh, Jenny wished him the best of luck with his traffic jam, and as she hung up the phone, she shook her head. Maybe she should try eating something. Perhaps that would alleviate some of the pain from her head. Or perhaps not. She knew that sex wouldn't fix her problems, wouldn't magically make them go away, but it was the one thing she knew of, with the exception of getting blackout drunk, that would give her something else to focus on, even if only for a short period of time. But since there was no one around, and she didn't feel quite up to the task of doing it herself, she figured that maybe a drink would be just the thing.


It was nearing 21:00 when she finally heard the sound of keys in a lock next door, and Jenny jumped up from her place on her couch, her previous irritation all but forgotten as she made her way to her door. She was too intoxicated to truly think about her next course of action, but she knew that it involved one Leroy Jethro Gibbs in some way, shape, or form. Whether that was a night of casual conversation or if it would lead to something more remained to be seen.

Pulling open her door, she was overcome with an intense dizziness, no doubt caused by the copious amounts of alcohol she'd just consumed, and she struggled to think as she knocked on his door. It swung open slowly, revealing the very man she'd just been silently cursing for not being home earlier, and he frowned when he noticed the slightly disheveled state of her clothing.

"Jenny? You okay?"

She nodded, but her eyes told a different story, so full of pain and anguish that he could almost physically touch it. He stepped back to let her in his apartment, and when she stumbled slightly, he gave her a concerned look as he noticed that, for the first time in all the months he'd known her, she wasn't wearing her trademark high heels or her usual smirk. She was barefooted, her eyes downcast as she walked, and when she passed him, he thought he could detect the strong scent of alcohol.

"You drunk?"

She nodded, leaning against the counter in his kitchen, watching him as he grabbed his drink from the living room, and when she spoke suddenly, her voice was loud in the silence.

"Talk to me. I don't care what you talk about, just anything. You can read the dictionary for all I care."

He nodded, looking at her seriously.

"I ever tell you about the time Fornell put a rubber snake in our History teacher's desk?"

Jenny shook her head, her eyes watching his glass like a hawk as he drained it.

"Nope."

"Ms. Crandall. She was a little woman, probably around 4'11" tall. Younger than all the rest of our teachers, and Fornell had a thing for her. She was in her thirties at the time, I'd say. Anyway, it was no secret that she was terrified of snakes, and Tobias had the brilliant idea to put a rubber one in her desk. Thought he would be her hero if he "saved" her from it. Well, needless to say, she screamed, fainted and got a concussion from the entire ordeal, and he was suspended for three days. He said it was still worth it just to be close to her."

Jenny smiled, leaning back as he walked closer, her eyes drifting from his glass to his lips as he poured another drink.

"Tell me about him. Tobias. What was he like?"

"Real quiet guy. Little shorter than me, but he was so sarcastically funny. You'd have loved him, Jen. We were stationed together in Kuwait, before my—before I was sent home, and he...there was a bomb. A roadside bombing, and he was killed trying to help save the other men. That's just the type of guy he was. He always helped people, no matter how much he pretended to hate it. He'd make such a fuss over it, but he always said it made him feel worthwhile. Like people really needed him, and he really needed that in his life."

Jenny nodded but frowned as she remembered the slip he'd made while speaking and she pushed off of the counter, taking a step closer.

"Why were you sent home? If you're as good as I think you are, they wouldn't have wanted to lose you. Not in the middle of Desert Storm, anyway."

"Personal reasons. And I got hurt. My knee is shot to hell now. Took a round to the back of my leg and it's never been the same."

Even in her intoxicated state, Jenny could sense that he wasn't going to elaborate, and she nodded, looking at him seriously.

"Being shot hurts like a bitch."

He nodded.

"Speaking from experience?"

"Yep. Took a bullet pushing DiNozzo out of the way on a case, and nearly died. After he saved my life, I promoted him. Still wonder about that decision sometimes."

"You sure you didn't promote him 'cause you were sleeping together?"

She shook her head, a slight smile on her face,

"No, that came later. I wasn't in a very good place, and he was the only one who was there. It was right after Heather died, and...I just needed someone. Didn't really care who it was."

Gibbs nodded again, still hardly able to believe she was drunk, given her composure, and had it not been for the slight stumbling and glazed look in her eyes, he would have never known.

"You hold your liquor well."

She nodded.

"My father was in the Army. By the time I was sixteen, I was sneaking his Scotch little by little. I'm used to being drunk now. Not that I overdo it, but I like knowing that I can hold my own with the guys I work with."

Making her way past him into the living room, she sank down onto his couch, patting the spot next to her, and when he joined her moments later, she laid her head on his shoulder, her hair falling over them both in a crimson waterfall.

"Tell me about what it's like to be a Marine sniper. How do you focus that intently?"

He nodded, wrapping his arm around her as she moved closer, and smiled. This, at least, was something he could talk about without fear of letting his past slip.

"You just do. I can't really explain it. You just block out everything except your target. The sounds around you just fade away until all you can hear it the blood rushing in your ears, and all you can think about it the way your heart is beating in your chest. The only thing that matters is the gun in your hand, because you know if you fail, it could ruin everything you've worked for. Your own men could die, you could die, and so you just keep your eyes on the target and you don't look away until the job is done."

"I know that feeling. It's the same way I focus at the shooting range. I guess I thought I was the only one."

He shook his head.

"No, Jen. You're not the only one."

He had no idea if he was talking about shooting a weapon or if he were referring to their collective secrets, but it didn't seem to matter.

"I love when you do that," she said suddenly.

He frowned.

"Do what?"

"Call me Jen. No one in the world does that, but something about it is different with you saying it."

She was silent for a long moment and it wasn't until he glanced down that Gibbs realised she'd fallen asleep.


Gibbs

As he watched Jenny Shepard sleep with her head on his shoulder, Gibbs found himself suddenly on the verge of panic, his heart pounding in his chest so loudly that he was almost positive it would wake her. He'd come so close to letting her in, to slipping and confessing the most painful, dark secret he had ever kept, and he frowned. How could he have been so careless? Shannon and Kelly had been gone eight years now, but it still felt like a betrayal of their memories.

It wasn't as though he'd never dated since their deaths, but he had never once told any of them about his wife and daughter. Diane had found out by accident, but she'd been the only one who had ever had any clue of the pain he'd carried for nearly a decade. So what was it about this woman that made him want to tell her? To confess everything as he would have done to a preacher?

Was it because she trusted him? Was it because he knew, somehow, that she wouldn't run? That she would understand? He knew it wasn't simply because she was a young attractive woman. He'd been attracted to Diane, Stephanie, and Rebecca, yet he'd never told them. Maybe because Jenny was someone he felt he could trust. She wouldn't judge him, wouldn't be hurt that he hadn't immediately trusted her with the truth so long as he did, in fact, tell her. He couldn't have explained how he knew this, he simply did. Jenny was different, of that, he was certain.

She stirred slightly next to him, and when she raised her head from his shoulder, blinking at him in confusion, he fought the urge to smile at her.

"This wasn't what I had in mind when I imagined sleeping with you, Leroy Jethro," she said slowly, her voice undeniably sarcastic.

He couldn't help it. He laughed.

"Make a habit of it?"

"Falling asleep at my neighbours? No, I have to admit, this is a first."

He shook his head.

"No, imagining sleeping with me."

She smirked, looking directly into his eyes, leaning closer to kiss him slowly.

"Only every night," she whispered, only half-joking.

He kissed her again, and just as she was reaching to pull him closer, her phone rang, clearly able to be heard through the walls, when she laid her head on his shoulder in frustration, he laughed quietly.

"These walls really are thin," she remarked softly, "I'll have to remember that."

He nodded, smiling at her as she lifted her head, kissing him one last time before she stood, and when she made her way to the door, he called her name, not wanting her to leave.

"You're not gonna drive?"

She shook her head, her eyes locking onto his.

"Nope. I fully intend to rip whomever called me a new one and when I've finished, I'll most likely pass out elegantly in my bed. Feel free to come by and make sure I'm still breathing if the notion takes you."

He laughed.

"Good night, Jen."

"Good night, Jethro."

God damn, he was in a lot of trouble, especially if she was going to look at him like that every time she saw him.


Shepard

There wasn't enough aspirin in the world for the migraine Jennifer Shepard found herself dealing with two days after she'd fallen asleep in her neighbour's apartment, and she was more annoyed with it that she would have ever liked to admit. If she'd been drinking the night before, it would have made perfect sense for her to have a headache, but this had come up out of nowhere, leaving her nauseous, dizzy, and generally unpleasant for the majority of her day, and the moment that she made it back to the comfort of her own bed, she crawled into it, pulling the blankets up over her head.

She moaned quietly as she tried to find a position in her bed that wasn't causing her head to pound even more than it already was, and as she buried herself farther under the blankets, she felt tears fill her eyes.

"Don't you fucking dare start to cry, Shepard," she admonished herself, "You know that will only make it worse. Besides, you're better than that."

With a jolt, she remembered that it was Tuesday, and as she begrudgingly pulled herself up from her bed, she began searching for the ingredients she'd bought, not wanting to miss out on spending any time with her neighbour, no matter how badly her head was killing her. A quiet knock on the door signaled his arrival, and when she pulled it open seconds later, he frowned at her pale skin and bright eyes.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head.

"Just a migraine. I'll be okay. It was just a rough day at work."

"You got your recipe written down?"

Jenny nodded, gesturing to the small container she kept her recipes in.

"Second index card. Why?"

"Because. I want you to go lie down, and I'll cook. Believe it or not, I'm not that bad at it. My wi—I've been told I'm pretty good at it when I want to be."

She nodded again, too caught up in the blinding pain in her head to notice his slip of the tongue, and as she tossed back another handful of aspirin, he gave her a gentle push towards her living room.

"Try to sleep. Go get a wash cloth, soak it in warm water, and put it on your forehead. Usually helps a bit."

She didn't answer, having already laid down on the couch, and as he began to follow the recipe written out before him, Gibbs found himself inexplicably smiling. He didn't know what it was about this woman that kept him coming back, kept him smiling every time he thought about her, but he didn't want to change it. And it was beginning to scare him. He hadn't felt this deep of a connection with anyone since Shannon, and he still wasn't sure how to deal with the fact that it felt like a betrayal of her memory.

As he cooked, Jenny laid on the couch, willing her migraine to pass, and when she shifted slightly, her stomach lurched, causing her to moan quietly. When she finally fell asleep ten minutes later, she didn't even notice the tears that had slipped from behind her closed eyelids. After covering the food he was preparing, Gibbs found a wash cloth, dampening it in warm water, and as he placed it in her microwave, he smiled to himself again. It was hot to the touch when he pulled it out, and as he waited for it to cool, he walked into the living room, looking down at Jenny as she slept.

He carefully placed the cloth onto her forehead when it was an appropriate temperature, and though she initially shifted away from it, she soon calmed, her sleep thankfully uninterrupted.

"Hope this helps, Jen," he whispered.

Damn, he was in way over his head.


The meal was largely uneventful, Jenny's migraine finally easing enough that she felt somewhat safer eating, and as she took a bite of the food Gibbs had prepared, she smiled.

"And you claim you can't cook. Liar."

He shrugged, taking a drink of his bourbon, and as she watched him swallow the bitter liquid, she found herself fascinated by the way the muscles and tendons in his throat moved. She was suddenly overcome with the almost overwhelming desire to kiss him, to drag him into the bedroom, the living room, didn't really matter, and she shook her head, trying to focus on anything other than his lips.

It didn't work.

As soon as he'd finished the bite of food held in his mouth, Jenny stood up, making her way around the table, and she jerked her head in the direction of the living room.

"Come here for a minute."

He nodded, confused by her abandonment of their dinner, and as he stood up, she pulled him closer, running her hands over his shoulders slowly. Her lips found his, her tongue dancing over his as his hands moved to her waist, and as she walked backward, her legs suddenly hit the edge of the couch, causing her to fall onto it.

She pulled him with her, his body settling over hers as they kissed, and as her hands slid under his shirt, she smiled. Her lips moved to his throat, her teeth lightly grazing his skin, and she knew, if she wanted to hear him say her name, she needed to try harder. The need to hear him whisper her name was almost tangible, and she bit down on the skin of his throat, her tongue tasting him as her lips moved.

As she moved her mouth back to his, she bit down on his bottom lip, and her body moved of its own accord as his hands gripped her hips tightly. He brought his lips to her throat, her hands tangling in his hair, and as he traced patterns on her skin with his tongue, her body arched into his.

"Jen..." he whispered hoarsely.

She moaned softly, part arousal part satisfaction, and as her hands moved to grip his shoulders, she hooked her leg around his waist. His body seemed to fit hers perfectly, as though they were made to be together, and she smiled as his hand found hers.

"Jethro..."

She knew, if they wanted to keep themselves from going too far, they would have to stop now, though there was nothing she wanted to do less. She kissed him again, though more gently than before, and said his name again.

"Jethro."

"Hm?"

"We...we should really stop," she told him, her eyes meeting his as he kissed her again.

He nodded, looking down into her slightly glazed eyes, and he briefly wondered if they were glassy from pain or desire, and it dimly occurred to him that they were much darker than he remembered them being. Shifting slowly off of her so as not to accidentally hurt her, he pulled her up, smiling when she laid her head on his shoulder, and he glanced at her in amusement.

"Gonna fall asleep again?"

She shook her head, standing up.

"No, I'm going to go finish the dinner you so valiantly cooked."

He followed her back to the kitchen, sitting down at his place, and as Jenny took a bite, she gave him a smile.

"I'm impressed. You didn't completely destroy this dish. It's perfect."

"Told you I could cook," he muttered in mock annoyance.

The smile she gave him was worth any hit to his pride.


Gibbs

After dropping off a cup of coffee for Jenny Shepard that morning, Gibbs sat behind his desk, trying to figure out what in the world was wrong with him. He'd not done anything even remotely similar to this in eight years, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. He'd never cooked dinner for Diane, never gotten coffee for Stephanie, never driven across town just to see Rebecca...what was going on here?

He knew, as surely as he knew Halloween was in October, that had she not stopped him that night, he would have slept with her if she'd asked, and it had been such a long time since he'd been genuinely interested in sex that it made him feel slightly nervous. Not that he'd ever gotten any complaints, but for the first time since Shannon, he actually wanted to do it right instead of simply going through the motions. He wanted to find out what she liked, what she responded to, wanted to hear her whisper his name again, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

Which also made him consider her feelings on the matter. He knew she'd wanted him, could tell that just from the look in her eyes, the way she'd pulled him closer as they'd kissed, and given her past with Tony DiNozzo, he knew she wasn't opposed to casual sex. This made him wonder why she'd stopped him, made him wonder what it was that caused her to be so guarded, and he frowned as he realised that he might never know. If she kept her secrets as close to her as he did his own, it was a high possibility.

It had been so long since he'd genuinely wanted to get to know another person, since he'd truly cared about their feelings, and it was such a foreign feeling to him that he didn't know how to deal with the emotions that came with his curiosity. He'd settled for drinking his pain, his attraction, and his confusion away each night, only to be tormented by his dreams/nightmares every time he closed his eyes. He knew Jenny wouldn't be home until late that night, if the past few days were any indication, and he felt more confused than ever when he'd realised he missed her.

He missed their conversations, the stories they traded throughout the week, and if he were being honest, he even missed hearing her through the wall. It always amused him just how often she forgot about the thin walls, unaware that he could hear just about everything she said, and when she'd been telling her friend Amy about him, he'd been pleasantly surprised. It wasn't often that he got to hear firsthand what people thought of him, and knowing that Jenny genuinely enjoyed his company had made his entire week better.

He'd heard her arguing with someone on the phone that he could only assume was either a lawyer or a medical professional and though he'd been immensely curious, he'd not been able to bring himself to ask. It was her personal life and her choice if she wanted to share it with him, so he hadn't pried. He appreciated the way she'd never pushed him, though he knew she could sense there was something he wasn't telling her, and he would extend the same courtesy to her.

Still...there was no denying his attraction to her now, and as he took a drink of his own coffee, he knew he'd made up his mind. He was going to ask her to join him on a date, even if it killed him and as he tried to think of something that would be appropriate, he took another drink. He supposed dinner could work, though they already had dinner once a week together, and he frowned. Dinner and drinks would be nice, though he would have to do some research to find the right place to go. They would talk, maybe exchange a few (maybe more than a few) heated kisses, and maybe...just maybe, he would let her close enough to truly get to know her.


Shepard

Taking a drink of the coffee that had been left on her desk, Jenny crossed her legs at the ankles, propping her feet up on her desk as she always did when not using it to write. She was currently reading over her mother's medical file, and when she heard a voice just over her shoulder, she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Jennifer, how are you this morning?"

Realising who had spoken, she smiled warmly, raising her eyes to the Scottish doctor.

"Good morning, Ducky. I'm great, how are you?"

"Very well, thank you. You asked to see me?"

She nodded, holding out the file to him, keeping her voice carefully low.

"Could you look over this and tell me if there's any chance she could be released?"

"Of course."

He took the file from her, skimming it quickly, and when his eyes darkened with sadness, Jenny frowned, knowing the answer before he'd even spoken.

"I'm afraid it doesn't look good. She hasn't shown any signs of improvement in the past two years, and even with the medication they've been giving her, she's still prone to violent outbursts. I know that isn't what you wanted to hear, but it looks as though Madelyn will have to remain in their care indefinitely."

She nodded as he handed her the file back, and as she placed it in the bottom drawer of her desk, Ducky looked at her sadly.

"I'm very sorry, my dear."

Jenny shook her head.

"It's okay. I just...I guess I was just being stupid."

"Not at all, Jennifer. It's only natural to want things to return to normal as much as they can after a loss and that shows just how much you love and care for your mother."

"Why did she do it, Ducky?" she whispered, shaking her head again.

Reaching out to pat her hand, Ducky leaned closer, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Unfortunately, my dear, we'll never know."


A/N: What's going on with Jenny's mother? Hm...