A/N: Bet you thought I'd forgotten this! Surprise! I do apologise for the delay, but my work/life balance is practically non-existent right now. Hope you enjoy this latest installment!


Shepard

Though she would never admit it to anyone, least of all to herself, Jennifer Shepard was afraid. The eating disorder she'd once used to feel some sense of control had now taken over her life, sending her into a panic each time she was forced to keep food in her stomach, and even though she'd promised Gibbs that she would try at least once a week to keep herself from purging, she had only managed it once over the course of a month.

As such, she'd begun avoiding their weekly Tuesday dinner, opting instead to work as late as she possibly could, knowing that he would be asleep by the time she'd left her office. She knew he was suspicious, knew he was worried, but no matter how many times she had tried, she simply couldn't bring herself to stop. At this point, she had even managed to perfect the art that was silent vomiting.

While she was working, she actively avoided both Agent Anthony DiNozzo and Doctor Donald Mallard, well aware of the fact that they were constantly observing her, searching for signs of her purging, and each time she was forced to interact with them, she felt a twinge of guilt for the way she was so obviously deceiving them. She was well aware of how dangerous her actions were, yet even the thought of her own death did little to deter her now.

She was more afraid by how drastically her life was spiraling, by how her sense of control her been ripped away from her, though she didn't have the slightest idea of how to regain it. The irony of the situation was not lost on her, the very thing she'd used for control had taken control, and as she sat behind her desk, her head cradled in her hand, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

Her intercom beeped, causing her to jump, and when Cynthia's voice filled the room, she shook her head, annoyed at her own nervousness.

"Excuse me, Director, Doctor Mallard is here to see you. He says it's urgent."

Jenny sighed, running her hand through her hair, pretending she didn't notice the red strands clinging to her fingers.

"Send him in, please."

"Yes, Director."

Moments later, her door opened, and the Scottish doctor entered her office, not returning her welcoming smile. Jenny noticed this at once and frowned, wondering what could cause him to look so serious so early on a Monday morning.

"What's wrong, Ducky?"

"I thought you might like to be made aware that Anthony has been shot. The wound doesn't appear to be fatal, but he is on his way to hospital now."

"Did he say how it happened?"

"They were tracking a suspect who was carrying a weapon. The bullet was meant for Timothy, but he was pushed out of the way. Anthony saved his life."

It didn't escape her notice that he seemed angry, which she could certainly understand, but what puzzled her was that his anger seemed to be directed at her, and she frowned as she met his eyes, shaking her head.

"Is there something else you wanted to say?"

"Yes," he answered shortly, "You've been ignoring Anthony for the past month and I'm just wondering if you care at all about his well-being. That young man was your partner for three years, he's saved your life and Timothy's more than once, and while I know you have your own personal life, I also know he cares about you as a friend."

"Of course I care, Ducky. As soon as we're finished here, I'm going to personally make a trip to see him. I'm guessing he's at Portsmouth?"

Ducky nodded, still looking angrier than she'd seen in awhile, and Jenny sighed, looking at him tiredly.

"You're angry with me. Why? I'm not the one who shot Tony. Believe it or not, I actually do like him, no matter how much hell I give him."

"I am angry at you, Jennifer, but not about that. I'm angry with you because you've been avoiding me as well. Don't try to pretend otherwise, we both know it's the truth, and we both know why. You know perfectly well that I can tell when you've been purging, and you want to avoid being caught. I'm guessing that's also why you've been working so late as well. If you keep yourself here, you don't have to face a meal with Jethro and the results it would have."

Jenny was just opening her mouth to reply when the doctor shook his head, cutting her off.

"I don't think you understand just how serious this is. What's going to happen to you when your teeth begin to decay as a result of the acid? Or worse still, if you do end up with a tear in your esophagus? You're playing a very dangerous game and I don't think you understand just how severe the consequences might be."

She blinked, hardly able to believe what he'd said, and even as she shook her head, she knew he was right.

"This isn't a game, Ducky. This is my life and it's mine to live as I choose."

Ducky sighed, looking at her with a mixture of sadness and stern love.

"Then I suggest you choose wisely."


As painful as it was for her to enter the room, Jenny gave DiNozzo a smile as she walked into it, stopping just at the edge of his bed. He returned it cautiously, unsure of how to act around her given the turn their friendship had taken, and when she sat down in the chair next to him, he waited for her to speak.

"Well, your first injury as team leader. How does it feel?"

"Like I just won the lottery," he deadpanned, "Hurts like hell."

"For what it's worth, you saved McGee's life."

"Our little Probie owes me."

"Your little Probie," Jenny corrected him, "It's your team now, remember?"

"How'd you find out I was here?"

She merely stared at him, silently asking how stupid he thought she was, and he nodded, grimacing as pain shot through his shoulder.

"Right," he said through gritted teeth, "Ducky. Should have known he would tell you."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice softer than he'd heard her in…forever.

He hesitated for a moment, as though he were trying to determine exactly how to word his response, and when he finally answered, his words were cautious.

"I don't…I didn't think you wanted to know. You've spent the last month pretending like I'm not even around, so I didn't think…"

As he trailed off, Jenny felt suddenly ashamed of the way she'd been avoiding him, and she shook her head, looking at him seriously.

"Tony, you're my friend, not just my agent. Not just my team leader. Of course I want to know if something happens to you. Or McGee. I don't want you to feel like I don't care."

He frowned, finally meeting her eyes, and sighed.

"What happened, Shep? Why did you shut me out? I thought we were closer than that, after all these years."

Jenny said nothing, her eyes lingering on the bandage covering his shoulder, and when she finally shook her head, her voice was sad.

"I didn't…I…knowing what you know about me, I was worried that you would try to force me into something I didn't want to do. Something I wasn't ready for."

DiNozzo nodded, his eyes filled with sudden understanding as he looked at her.

"I would never do that, unless you gave me no choice. I don't want to tell you how to live your life, Red, but I don't want you to die, either."

Though she couldn't deny the way she was touched by his words and concern, she had no idea of what he expected her to say. She reached out to touch his uninjured shoulder, giving him a weak smile as she stepped away.

"I hope you feel better soon," was all she said as she left the room.


Gibbs

Even as he watched her, he knew Jenny wasn't really concentrating on the music she was attempting to play. She'd made considerable progress over the course of the month, but tonight there seemed to be something on her mind that was preventing her from focusing. She'd told him about DiNozzo being shot that morning, and while he had originally thought that to be the reason behind her unease, now he wasn't so sure.

Her fingers moved slowly over the keys, as they had for the past five minutes, and when she suddenly stood, he frowned. She made her way closer, leaning down to kiss him gently, and when she spoke, he wondered at the lifeless tone to her voice.

"Think I'm gonna call it a night," she said by way of explanation, "I'm really exhausted and I'm just not feeling well."

He nodded, though he couldn't deny he was concerned, and when she turned just inside the door, he gave her a smile.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Jen. Call me if you need anything."

She nodded, closing the door behind her quietly, and as he listened to her move around her own apartment five minutes later, he couldn't help but feel as though there was something she wasn't telling him. He'd have been lying if he'd said he didn't notice the way she'd been working more, staying so late at the office that he rarely saw her, and though he knew she'd always worked in such a manner, it still bothered him. Was she really that busy or was she burying herself in work to avoid both him and the problems she was currently facing?

Even as he asked himself the question, he realised that he already knew the answer, based on what he knew of Jenny and the way she ran from her problems. It was no secret that she'd been dealing with more than she knew how to handle: the death of her mother, her recent promotion, the rampant bulimia that she pretended didn't exist...it was enough to make anyone feel exhausted.

He briefly wondered about her friend Amy that he'd once overheard her talking to, curious as to why they'd stopped speaking, and he made a mental note to ask her later. He knew they'd once been close and he wondered if perhaps he wasn't the only person Jenny was avoiding. He suspected he already knew...

"Fuck..."

Gibbs frowned at the sound of Jenny's voice through the wall, wondering what was going on, yet respecting her desire to be left alone. He only hoped he was making the right decision...


Two days went by without a single word from Jenny, making him more than a little nervous, and finally when Gibbs could stand it no longer, he made his way over to her apartment, knocking on the door lightly. There was no answer, no sign that she'd left since the day that she'd gone so suddenly from his place, and as he stood in the hallway, he shook his head slowly.

A quick turn of the doorknob showed that the door was locked, and he thought quickly, pulling out his wallet. The lock was simple enough to open with a credit card, bad for safety but good for his needs now, and as he maneuvered the card in the door frame, he narrowed his eyes in concentration.

It swung open less than a minute later, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, he began looking for her, hoping she simply wasn't home. A quick search of her bedroom and living room turned up nothing, and it was only a split second decision that led him to the bathroom, pushing open the door slowly. He turned on the light, the scent of blood reaching his nose, and when he finally realised what his eyes were seeing, he took a deep breath.

Jenny was crumpled on the floor of the bathroom, the shallow rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life, and when he glanced into the porcelain bowl in front of her, he felt his heart break. Specks of blood mingled with the bile and bits of food in the water, and as he knelt down next to her, he reached out to touch her shoulder gently.

Her body was freezing cold but she stirred at the contact, making him breathe a sigh of relief, and when her eyes fluttered open, they were glazed and unfocused.

"Jen, can you hear me?"

She moaned quietly, moving away from his hand, and he pulled her into his arms, brushing her hair back from her face, frowning at her paleness. Her eyes closed again and he lightly tapped her cheek with the back of his hand, hoping to keep her from losing consciousness again.

"Jen. Come on, let's get you out of here."

He stood carefully, cradling her body close to his chest, and as he walked back into her bedroom, he heard her voice, so quiet he almost missed it.

"Jethro?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so cold..."

"I know," he answered gently, placing her on the bed and covering her with the blanket.

She was shivering as he sat next to her on the bed and when he reached for her hand, he began rubbing it between his own in the hopes of warming it.

"What happened, Jen?"

She shook her head, her eyes closing at the movement, and when she finally looked at him again, he wasn't surprised to see tears in the emerald irises.

"I...I don't remember everything. The...the night after I left your apartment, I remember getting really drunk and eating way more food than I had planned on. I...I started panicking, but I knew I couldn't call you so I just started throwing up. It was...god, Jethro, it was so bad. I didn't think it could get this bad this fast, but..."

He frowned, confused by her words, and as he looked at her, he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, feeling the small cuts caused by her teeth as she'd vomited.

"I don't remember passing out, don't know how long it—what day is it?"

"Wednesday," he told her, "Two days after you left my place. But Jenny, why couldn't you call me? I told you that I would always help you when you needed it."

"I was ashamed of what I'd done," she admitted, "I was so fucking weak and...I just couldn't face the thought of seeing you when I was...like that. I don't know, it made sense to drunk Jenny."

Jenny was silent for a long minute, moving her body closer to his warmth, and as he wrapped her in his arms, he could feel her shaking slightly.

"I'm scared, Jethro," she whispered, "I haven't been—I don't know what to do and...nothing seems to be working. I've only had one day out of the entire fucking month that I didn't want to throw up after each time I ate something."

"I have an idea, Jen. How much vacation time do you have?"

"Hell if I know," she muttered, "Why?"

"Take a week off. Spend it with me, and we'll work together to get you to a point where you don't want to throw up, even if it's just once a day. I've got time, I can take as long as I need. Or, at least a week."

Jenny considered his words for a moment and when she sighed, she buried her head in his chest.

"I can try."

"That's all I'm asking."


Shepard

"Is this really necessary, Ducky?"

Looking at the Scottish doctor as he placed the blood pressure cuff around her arm, Jenny rolled her eyes, unsure of why he had been called to Gibbs' apartment.

"Yes, my dear," Ducky answered as he waited for the results, "Your body is so used to rejecting food that there could be some potentially dangerous side effects, and I'm going to stay here for at least the first few hours to make sure nothing happens."

"Don't you have work to be doing?"

"Mr. Palmer can more than handle it, I assure you. Now, everything appears to be normal here, so why don't we all sit down and have a chat before dinner?"

Jenny nodded, allowing the doctor to lead her into the kitchen as Gibbs was cooking, and she shook her head as she watched him place their soup onto the burner.

"Are you sure you don't want my help?"

Gibbs smiled, shaking his head as he poured her a glass of water.

"No. Believe it or not, I can cook."

She laughed, sliding into the chair by the table, and as she tried to focus on their conversation, Jenny wondered if she was making a huge mistake.

As soon as she finished the last bite of her food, Jenny immediately wanted to run from the room, but the watchful eyes of both Gibbs and Ducky made her stay where she was, frowning as she picked up her glass of water. The weight of the food she'd consumed was unbearable, making her feel nauseous, and as she made her way into the living room, Gibbs followed her, exchanging a look with the doctor as he did so.

She fell onto the couch in exhaustion, curling her body close to Gibbs as he sat down next to her, and when Ducky sat in the chair across from them, he looked at her in concern.

"How do you feel, Jennifer?"

"I hate this, Ducky," Jenny whispered, shaking her head, "I want to throw up so bad. It feels horrible."

He nodded, his eyes sympathetic as he watched her.

"I know, but you're doing very well. We're starting small so as to not shock your system, but it won't be an easy task."

Jenny sighed, burying her head in Gibbs' shoulder as he ran his hand over her hair, taking a deep breath to steady herself. This was proving to be the most difficult thing she'd ever done and when Gibbs noticed how badly she was shaking, he frowned, glancing down at her in concern.

"Jen?"

She didn't answer, sitting up as fast as she could and bolting for the bathroom, her hand over her mouth as she ran. Ducky shook his head sadly as he watched her go, sighing when Gibbs looked at him.

"I was afraid of this..."

"What?"

"Her body isn't accustomed to keeping food down, so it's automatically rejecting it. That was why I suggested taking things slow to ease her into it. This isn't going to be simple, by any means."

Gibbs nodded, giving Jenny a reassuring smile as she returned to the room, her steps shaky and her skin pale, and Ducky looked at her seriously as she sat down once more.

"Are you alright, Jennifer?"

Jenny nodded, taking a drink of the water sitting on the table in front of her, and when she spoke, her voice was slightly hoarse.

"I'm the real life of the party, aren't I?"


Four days later, there was only marginal improvement, and each time Jenny consumed anything more substantial than water, she was either sent running to the bathroom or in such pain that she could do no more than lie on the couch, making Gibbs worry more with each passing hour. Ducky had warned him of this, but it was much harder for him to watch than he'd originally thought. Jenny assured him each time he asked that she was okay, but the shine in her eyes told a different story, leaving him at a loss of what to do.

Though it was against his better judgment, he'd allowed her to use sex as a way of distracting herself more than once, and each time, he'd questioned whether or not he was actually helping her or making the situation worse. Jenny had promised him that she would be fine, but he knew enough about her to know that she would have claimed as much even if she'd lost a limb. She was, quite simply, the most stubborn woman he had ever met in his life.

Ducky had been a frequent visitor each day, keeping a close watch on her vital signs and looking for any signs of tearing in her esophagus, of which he had thankfully found none. It wasn't until the fifth day that they saw a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, for which Gibbs was so happy that he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. As Jenny sat behind the piano, she could feel Gibbs watching her, though she'd been adamantly ignoring him the entire time, and when he said her name, she sighed, annoyed at him for disrupting her practice.

"What?"

"What time is it?"

Jenny frowned, glancing at her watch, and rolled her eyes.

"Almost eight. Why?"

"Do you know what time we had dinner?"

She shook her head, confused by his train of thought, and he nodded at her.

"We ate at 17:30. That was two and a half hours ago."

As she realised what he meant, a smile came across her face, and she stared at him as though he was playing a cruel joke.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"You did it, Jen."

Jenny stood from her place behind the piano, running to the other side of the room, throwing her arms around his neck as he gave her a smile, and when he lifted her slightly off her feet, she laughed.

"I did it, Jethro!"

He kissed her as he placed her back on the ground and as she looked up at him, he ran his fingers through her hair.

"I told you that you could do it."

She smiled, laying her head on his shoulder, and when his hand trailed down her side, she met his eyes slowly.

"I'm so proud of you, Jen."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too."


The knock on her office door made Jenny glance up, forcing a smile on her face as Anthony DiNozzo walked into the room, and as he sat down in the chair opposite her desk, she frowned at the serious look on his face.

"Tony. Is something wrong?"

"You tell me. You take off for a week, and then when you come back, you're right back to ignoring me and pretending that I don't exist. We were partners for three years, you can't tell me that it meant nothing. I know you're not so stuck up that you think you're better than me now, so what's the reason? You told me part of it at the hospital, but I thought we'd moved past that. Or was I wrong?"

Jenny was silent for a long moment, trying to think of the best way to answer his question, and when he stood suddenly, there was no mistaking the anger in his eyes.

"You know what, Jenny? When you decide that you want to stop burying yourself in work and actually talk to me, you know where I am."

Before she knew what had happened, she was left staring at the closed silver door, wondering how her life had gotten so messed up.


Gibbs

As he watched Jenny sleep next to him, he ran his fingers over her arm lightly, feeling more than a little proud of her as he pulled her into his arms. She'd made remarkable progress over the last few days, throwing up only twice in the past week, and he'd have been lying if he'd said he hadn't been worried. He knew she'd been struggling, knew that she'd been trying to avoid her problems by throwing herself into her work again, but she'd done so well that he couldn't help the smile that came over his face.

She stirred slightly in her sleep, moving closer to his warmth, and when he placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, he frowned when he noticed her skin was hot beneath his lips. Reaching out to lightly shake her shoulder, he sighed when she protested being woken, nearly laughing when she opened her eyes to glare at him.

"Jethro, I'm sleeping."

He nodded.

"I know, but I think you have a fever."

"That's great. Can I go back to sleep now?"

Gibbs shook his head, standing up and making his way to the bathroom, returning with a thermometer held between his fingers. Against her wishes and to many grumbled protests, he woke her again, placing the device under her tongue as he pulled her into his arms again. He held it in place, noting that she was already falling asleep again, and when it beeped a minute later, he examined it, frowning at the numbers. It wasn't as bad as he'd feared, but it was still enough to cause concern, and as he pulled the blanket more tightly around her, she opened her eyes again.

"I'm so cold," she said quietly.

Gibbs nodded, kissing her cheek softly.

"I know, but it should break soon. Just go back to sleep, and I'll wake you in a few hours, okay?"

Jenny nodded, burying her head in his chest, and as she fell asleep again, he ran his fingers through her hair.

"I love you, Jen."


Three hours later, Jenny's fever began to break, leaving her shivering and sweating, and as he carried a bowl of soup into the bedroom, Gibbs gave her a smile.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a train," she said weakly, "and after this week, I never want to eat soup again in my life."

He laughed quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and as he handed her the bowl, he placed his hand on her knee.

"You're going to be fine," he assured her, "and the soup is just easier for you to keep down. We don't need you throwing it back up, remember? We've worked too hard for that to happen."

Jenny nodded, her hand shaking slightly as she held the spoon, and when she took a hesitant bite, she gave him a surprised look.

"Is this...potato soup with bacon?"

He nodded, giving her a smile.

"Yep. Believe it or not, I know a bunch of different soup recipes. I'm a jack of all trades."

"Master of none," Jenny quipped, taking another small bite of the soup, "but that's okay. I love you anyway."

Just as she was dipping the spoon into the bowl again, something in her face changed, causing him to frown, and when he realised how badly she was shaking, he moved closer, reaching for her hand slowly.

"Jen? What is it?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide, and when he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, she jumped.

"Jenny?"

"I...I can't do it," she whispered, shaking her head again, "I can't, it's—it's too much, and—"

"Shh...yes, you can. Just take it slow, okay? One tiny bite at a time. You can do this."
Her hands were shaking so badly that the spoon fell from her hand, splashing soup onto her skin, and when he asked her if she was okay, she merely nodded, too panicked to speak.

"It's okay, Jen. Just breathe."

Not a moment too soon, he grabbed her by the wrist, preventing her from running from the room, and when her eyes landed on his, he frowned at the fear he saw reflected in the emerald green irises. He placed the bowl onto the bedside table, still holding her in place, and she shook her head as she tried to break free.

"Let go."

"Not happening, Jen. You've come too far to slip up now."

She tried to pull away again, but he merely pulled her closer, holding her tight against his chest. He could feel her shaking as he ran his hand over her hair, and when she spoke again, the sound of her voice breaking nearly shattered his heart.

"Please, Jethro..."

"Shh..." he kissed her hair, tightening his hold, "Shh...I've got you, Jen. It's okay. I've got you."

As he held the shaking redhead in his arms, Leroy Jethro Gibbs hadn't felt more helpless in the last eight years.


Shepard

Though there was nothing she wanted to do less at the moment, Jenny sat back in her chair, pretending to listen as her superiors outlined their next meeting, and she stifled a yawn as she struggled to keep her eyes open. She still wasn't feeling a hundred percent, though that was no excuse for her lack of focus, and as she placed her head in her hands, she blinked hard. She'd spent the better part of her weekend wrapped in the arms of a certain marine, for one reason or another, and she would have given almost anything to be there now, inhaling the strangely intoxicating scent of coffee mixed with bourbon.

None of the things on her to-do list were even half as intriguing as his bright blue eyes, and as she pulled out her phone, she smiled as she typed out her text.

I'm bored. This meeting I'm in is going nowhere and lasting forever.

A few seconds later, her phone vibrated in her hand, making her smile, and as she read his response, she fought the urge to laugh.

That's what they pay you the big bucks for. Suck it up, Shepard.

Shaking her head, Jenny typed out a reply, hoping her sarcasm was heavy enough that he would be able to sense it even without hearing her voice.

And here I thought it was because I slept my way to the top. And stop being so mean. I thought you loved me. Guess I was wrong.

Very cute, Jen.

She laughed quietly to herself as she read his answer, and as she put her phone back in her pocket, she made a promise that she would repay him for making her day even the slightest bit more bearable. If this meeting didn't kill her first...


Two hours later, she was sitting behind her desk, slowly making her way through the lunch that Cynthia had brought back for her, trying her hardest not to think of just how much food would be sitting in her stomach by the time she'd finished. It was proving to be much more difficult than she'd originally thought, and even as she tried to think of other, more pressing things, she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

All she could focus on was the uncomfortable feeling in her throat as she swallowed each bite, and when she shoved her chair back from her desk, she didn't even stop to consider the consequences of her actions as she ran from the room. As fast as she could make her steps without running, Jenny made her way into the restroom, checking quickly to make sure it was empty, and as she locked the stall door behind her, she fell to her knees, gathering her hair back with her left hand.

Her right hand found its way to the back of her throat at once, her fingers hitting painfully with each thrust, and as she emptied the contents of her stomach, she closed her eyes, feeling hot tears spill from behind her closed lids. She coughed harshly more than once as her body struggled to get rid of the food she'd consumed, and as she moved her fingers, she nearly choked, letting go of her hair and gripping the edge of the porcelain tightly.

Finally, she was satisfied, spitting the last of the blood from her mouth, and when she pulled herself to her feet, she wasn't surprised to find that she was shaking. After flushing away the evidence of what she'd done, Jenny made her way to the sink, washing her hands thoroughly, and when she felt a slight stinging sensation on her right hand, she frowned, holding it up to examine it more closely.

Tiny marks covered her skin, some still bleeding slightly, and she frowned as she realised they had been caused by her teeth. Though she knew this should have alarmed her, she merely shrugged it off, drying her hands on a paper towel as she left the room, holding herself much more confidently than she felt. The sound of her name being called made her turn, and when she found herself facing the team leader, she gave him a weak smile, hoping he hadn't seen where she'd just come from.

"Need you to sign off on the overtime," he said, handing her a file.

She reached for it with her right hand, completely forgetting about the cuts on her skin, and when he noticed the drops of blood, DiNozzo looked at her seriously.

"What happened to your hand?"

She didn't answer and he frowned, refusing to let her dodge the question.

"Well?"

"It's nothing, Tony."

"Doesn't look like nothing," he countered, sidestepping her each time she tried to walk away.

Jenny sighed, nodding her head in the direction of her office, and as they made their way back to the small room, she could feel his eyes following her. As soon as the door had closed behind her, DiNozzo glared at her, daring her to lie to him, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Come on, Red. Don't do this. You and I both know what's really going on here. You've been ignoring me, sneaking off to the restroom after every meal, hoping, praying that I don't see you, and you've even been avoiding Ducky, because he knows, too. It's okay to admit that you have a problem. No one is going to judge you, especially not me or the Duck man."

"I don't have a problem," Jenny insisted, her voice shaking slightly, "I've gotten it under control."

"Yeah? You might have managed it for that week you were gone, but now that you're here again, now that you can't shut out the stress of the job, of trying to prove yourself, of losing your mother...you're right back where you started. Aren't you?"

Jenny's eyes were scanning the room anxiously, desperate to look at anyplace but him, and when he took a step closer, he placed his hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump.

"Look at me, Shep. Look me dead in the eyes and tell me that you don't have a problem. And if you can do that, I'll never say another word about it."

"Tony—"

"You can't do it, Jenny. I know you. You've never been able to lie to someone who knows your tell and get away with it. Come on. Just tell me the truth. You know I'm not going to run and tell the entire agency. You can trust me. It's not like I don't already know. You've already admitted it to me once. What's the difference now?"

"Because I should have been stronger than this," she snapped, finally looking at him with tear-filled eyes, "I took that week off to get this shit under control, and I can't even do that without having someone there to hold my hand and walk me through it every god damned day! It's fucking pathetic! I'm fucking pathetic."

Without even stopping to think about what could happen should someone walk in her office and see them, DiNozzo reached out and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly, just as he'd done at Madelyn Shepard's funeral. He pretended that he didn't notice her tears dripping onto that fabric of his jacket, holding her as close as he possibly could.

"You're not pathetic, Jenny. You're going to get through this, and yeah...it's gonna take time. Probably a lot longer than a week. But you are going to beat this. And you don't have to do it alone. Me, Ducky, Jethro, even our little Probilicous will help you if you ask. You know he adores you, no matter how scared he is of you. All you have to do is let us help."

Jenny shook her head, blinking hard, and when she spoke, her voice was a pained whisper, striking him in his heart.

"I don't know how, Tony."

He kissed her cheek, hugging her again, and as they stood in the silence of her office, he said the only thing he could think of, regardless of how it sounded.

"One day at a time, Red. One day at a time."


A/N: I'll update as soon as I can.