NCIS Headquarters, Director's office, 2006

A month had passed since Gibbs had left for Mexico with Mike Franks. Jenny sat at her desk, clicking through the last few emails hoping that nothing demanded her immediate response. It was Tuesday, which meant that she would meet up with Diane for their weekly bar date. Some days, she thought it was the only thing keeping her afloat.

She could admit that it was strange, the friendship that they shared, but it did have some merits. They did date, and in one case, marry, the same man. It was refreshing, and like Diane had said, therapeutic, to talk it out for once. Some days it hit her all over again, the way he left, the betrayal that lingered, and the sense of frustration at herself because she didn't think she had a place to feel that way given why he left.

The fact that he hadn't told her about Shannon and Kelly hurt. And she often wondered why, usually bouncing theories off of Diane. She hadn't given up on the thought that Gibbs might come back – it was the only thing holding her sanity together – but for the moment, he wasn't here, and still, she didn't think she was handling it well.

But she wasn't the only one, the team was only holding it together because of DiNozzo, and she knew how much it was taking out of him, and had even encouraged him, indirectly, to talk to her if he needed to.

She glanced at her watch. It was an hour before she and Diane had planned to meet. She supposed that gave her no excuse to not answer some of these emails. Jenny put her glasses on and clicked on the first email.

〜*〜

Seven long emails later, she rubbed her forehead, wishing that she had stayed a field agent if only so she wouldn't have to deal with bureaucratic stupidity. She was thankful for the knock that sounded at her door.

"Come in."

Tony poked his head around the frame, the characteristic grin absent from his face. Jenny took her glasses off, straightening a little in her chair as he entered, staring at his feet. He dragged a chair from the table, yanking it forcefully as it caught on the carpet.

"Tony?" she asked cautiously.

He slumped down. "Are you ever angry?"

"At Gibbs?"

"For leaving, yeah. He just up and left to go to Mexico of all places. What's so good about Mexico anyway?!"

"You can't blame him for leaving, Tony," she said gently, holding her hand up as he opened his mouth to argue back. "For how he left, yes, I agree, he shouldn't have done it like that."

After all, he didn't even say goodbye to her. She couldn't say that it hadn't stung. It hit her then, in that moment, just how similar she was to Tony. And somehow that stabbed her. There was no difference in the way he left between them. Subtle, barely a sentence, a half-smile and blue eyes. The close of elevator doors. Nothing.

"I'm not asking for much, just something more than you'll do." Tony ran his hand through his hair. "What does that even mean?"

Jenny leaned forward. "May I ask what brought this on?"

"It was a rough day today." Tony let out a heavy sigh. "We got a case and," he smiled wryly, "whatever I do just isn't good enough."

"You're upset that he put you in this position."

"It sounds silly, I know."

"It's not silly," she countered.

"Some days I don't think I'm cut out to be a team leader. Gibbs made it seem so easy."

"Gibbs has been doing it for many years. Don't compare yourself to him. For what it's worth, I think you've been doing an excellent job."

"Thank you, Jenny." Tony gave her a soft smile. "I just wish everyone else thought so."

"They do, but they're dealing with the same thing we are. Sometimes you just have to accept it." She hoped Tony hadn't read too much into the implication of what she said. "Or find someone to talk to."

"Right again," Tony acknowledged. "I'm so annoyed with them though. I get that they want Gibbs back, so do I, but that's not happening!"

It wasn't the first time that Jenny felt the familiar pricks of anger at the damage Gibbs had done when he left. The whole team was suffering. She had been down to Abby's lab more times than she could count this past week, to be there for the miserable Goth. And Ducky, well, she was able to be a little more open with him than anyone else because he had been there in Europe with them.

He hadn't known about Shannon or Kelly either. She wasn't sure if she found that comforting or not.

"Do you think he's coming back?" Tony asked hesitantly.

Jenny stared at the younger agent and thought about the folder in her drawer, the one she hadn't been able to file yet. Holding out hope, and at the same time, hoping against his return. The explosion had scared her, in more ways than one. She really could've lost him. And not to Mexico, but for good.

"I really don't know, Tony."

"He has to," he said, more of a plea than with any semblance of certainty.

Jenny mustered a small, sad smile, but didn't say anything. It hit her, the realization that she wasn't entirely sure she wanted him back. Not because he wasn't a good agent, barring the tendencies he had to give her a headache with his profound lack of interagency cooperation, but because if something were to happen – he might not be as lucky, and that was something she didn't think she'd be able to deal with.

It was one thing to live with the knowledge that he had deliberately left her, but that he was in Mexico, on his little margarita safari – it would be something else entirely to know that she would never see him again, could never see him again. It was that thought that terrified her beyond belief – because she knew the kind of agent he was, damn good, but at his own expense.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this. They don't understand how hard it is for me." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't even say anything. I'm supposed to be the leader. Always taking one for the team."

"I get it, Tony. I'm sorry I can't be more helpful, just a listening ear when you need it." She pushed out a breath. "I don't think that Gibbs ever would've left if he didn't think you were up for the job. In his own twisted way, that does mean something. Regardless, I've seen what you're capable of, Tony. You're a good team leader."

Somehow, she didn't think this was quite the time for her to say that she was considering him for the opening in Rota, Spain. That wasn't the kind of ego boost he needed.

"Yeah, but that's why I'm here. You help me get my head on straight, especially when it comes to the boss. I can't help but feel sorry for him." He sighed, shaking his head. "I mean, losing a wife and daughter? Must be hell."

"It's inconceivable."

"Guess I can't blame him for wanting to get away from it all for a bit."

She made a noise. "No, we can't." She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk. "But you are allowed to feel, Tony. It doesn't matter what you think you should feel, or how you should act. If you're angry at him, be angry."

Tony tilted his head, and she thought he was just considering her words until the next sentence came out of his mouth. "Right back at you."

Jenny pressed her lips together, not entirely sure how she felt at the way he pegged her, but appreciated the sentiment – if only for the knowledge that he knew how much she might be suffering, not that she'd confirm or deny it, in the wake of Gibbs's departure.

"Well, I have a case to solve," Tony said begrudgingly.

"If you need anything-"

"I know where to find you," Tony supplied. "Thank you, Jenny."

As she watched the very Special Agent leave, she wondered if she was truly deserving of that accolade. A couple months ago, she would've accepted it, brushed it off even. Now, she turned it over in her mind, judging it.

You help me get my head on straight, especially when it comes to the boss.

Could she really offer insight on Gibbs, her former-partner – because for all the ways she had known him, she hadn't known the most crucial thing? Something that once she did, put a lot of things into perspective, and solved a lot of loose ends, especially when it came to their tumultuous affair.

And yet–

It still didn't answer the most important question.

〜*〜

Almost a somber mood had fallen over the bar as Jenny took her usual seat next to Diane. The volume was low on the broadcast of some game and the light chatter that usually existed was gone.

"It seems rather subdued here tonight," Jenny commented, looking around at the various tables, most of which were empty.

"I'm not complaining. I'm glad I don't have to worry about a pounding headache because of the blasted music they play so loudly."

"Don't we find a way to get headaches anyway?"

"I enjoy our way a hell of a lot more."

The two women smiled at each other as the bartender came over. They placed their usual orders, Jenny, a glass of bourbon, and Diane, her wine.

"How's your week at the office been?" Diane asked.

"Quiet. DiNozzo stopped by today asking me if I'm ever angry about the fact that Gibbs left."

Diane huffed in amusement. "You tell him that you get drunk every Tuesday with his ex-wife out of spite?"

"Give yourself some credit." Jenny glanced at her companion. "You're a decent company. And no, that information would fall under the terms of "you give a dog a bone"…"

"He'll start chewing on it," Diane supplied. "Makes sense. And if we're being sentimental, I look forward to this too."

The bartender slid their drinks in front of them and the two women toasted before taking their first sip of the night.

"So what did you say?"

"I told him that he couldn't truly blame Gibbs for leaving. How he left, by all means."

Diane tilted her head. "That's fair. I can only imagine what Leroy must've dealt with after waking up from his coma, finding out they're gone all over again." She shook her head. "Must've been hell."

"Yeah," Jenny agreed, a sad note to her voice. She hated how there was truly nothing she could do to support him. They may not be in a relationship anymore, but he would always be her partner, and she felt like she had failed, among other things.

She took another sip before adding, "I am angry with him."

"For leaving?"

"In a way. Suppose that makes me a hypocrite."

"Or human."

Jenny acknowledged her words. "You don't see how the team is coping, it's bad. I just don't understand how he could do that to them."

Or to me, she thought, but brushed it away. He had no reason to show her that much loyalty, not with the way she left. She supposed it was only fair.

"That's Leroy for you, bulldozing his way through life without paying attention to who he hurts in the process. It's all him and his emotions," Diane said bitterly.

"He doesn't intend to." She couldn't help but defend him, putting a wry smirk on her friend's face.

"That makes it even worse. He broods in solitude, and has such an irresistible charm about him that makes you want to fix him. You can't."

Jenny bit her lip. She hadn't wanted to fix him.

Diane seemed caught off guard by her silence, and studied her for a minute. "That-" she started. Jenny lifted her head, catching the thoughtful look on her face. "That's not what you tried to do."

"He's not broken." She echoed the words she had said all those years ago in this very bar, to this very same woman. "To fix him would make him not Jethro. It's a part of who he is."

"Mmh." Diane took a sip of her wine. "So why did you leave then?"

Jenny tapped the side of her glass, wondering how to phrase it. "I had to do what was best for me." She finally decided. "There were other things, before I ever met him, that I intended to do." She pushed out a long sigh, brushing her hair out of her face. "Something changed in our relationship. If you had asked me before we went to Paris, if he had loved me. I would've said yes. But…" she trailed off.

But something had changed. Or she had read it all wrong. Either way, the change had pushed her to realize the choice that he had inadvertently put in front of her.

"You think he loved you?"

"He cared." She gave a weak smile before she echoed the words Diane herself had said. "In his own way."

"But would you look back on those moments now and think that he loved you?"

Jenny fell silent; ruminating on the words. That was the question. Had it ever been love? When she had gotten shot, and even before, there were moments where she would've swore that his feelings for her went beyond sex, beyond caring, beyond the attachment that being partners granted – all the way to love.

"I don't know."

Diane lifted a brow in surprise. "That's not a no," she pointed out, as if that very thing was a subject of importance. Jenny supposed it was.

"What about you?" she countered. "I'm sure there were moments that you thought he loved you. You did marry him."

"Touché," Diane scoffed. "I don't think he did," she muttered, averting her gaze, taking a sip of her wine as she studied the wooden sign on the far wall in the bar. A certain melancholy seemed to brush against her, one that she supposed Diane had long since learned to ignore, but couldn't quite gather the strength to do so in the moment.

"Really?" Jenny probed, caught off guard at the idea.

"We had our moments," Diane acknowledged. "I did marry him. But love? I don't think so. Not on his end."

"What makes you say that?"

Diane ran her hand through her hair. "He called me Shannon a lot. Woke up from nightmares and didn't want to have anything to do with me. He'd go down and work on his damn boat. Then he'd go down there a lot more often."

Jenny stared at the amber liquid. That wasn't the reality she lived through. He never called her Shannon. When he woke from a nightmare, she knew it took him a second to reorient himself – she had named the flash, the disappointment, in his eyes that first time she comforted him – but then she ran his fingers through his hair, holding him against her.

And, well, he didn't have his boat in Europe.

But did it mean-? She didn't think she could bring herself to acknowledge that. Each relationship was different and he had shown his true feelings in other ways – dismissing her love, well, that was something she couldn't easily get around.

"I take it that's not your experience."

Jenny mustered a small shake of her head, still dazed; thinking. Did it really matter if it had been different? He still left; she didn't want him back. She couldn't risk it; her heart or his life – both were at stake. Seeing him on that hospital bed reminded her of a fact that she forgot. He was not infallible. She knew it to be true; it scared her, deeply.

And her heart – it was something she had offered him and he decided he didn't want. He only wanted one heart, she reminded herself, repeating it over and over, making sure it sank in; a necessary mantra; a precaution.

"So why did you leave?" Diane repeated, her voice piqued; curious now, in a way where she had an explanation, but one that seemed to be unsatisfactory to her.

"I said I had to do what was best for me."

"In what way?" It was almost sneering. "How was leaving him best for you?"

Jenny lifted her chin. "It was a gamble I couldn't afford to take. I couldn't stick around, hoping it was love. Relationships change."

Diane rubbed her temple; shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me."

"You're fine," Jenny said mildly.

"No," Diane turned to face her. "It's not. It was bitchy of me. It's not easy for me, thinking that I had a chance and that it was because of who I am that I didn't get it."

"Had a chance?" Jenny tilted her head.

Diane pursed her lips in a way that seemed like she was questioning if she should say something. "Jenny-" she started, licked her lips, took a sip of wine. "If you had to take a guess. Do you think that there's a possibility that Leroy loved you? At some point?"

Did she-

What?

Jenny stared at the redhead next to her; and stared. A possibility that- she bit her lip. It was a question she asked herself, one she had never been able to answer.

She gave a half-hearted shrug. "I don't-"

"No. I don't want that. Yes, or no," Diane said firmly. "Those are your options. Your best guess."

Jenny took a sip of her bourbon. Yes or no. It seemed simple; easy; but it was so much more than that. He cared about her. She knew that much. Shannon or not, she had been his partner and he had cared. But love?

"You don't have to answer now. Think about it. Tell me next Tuesday. Or the Tuesday after that. But you need to answer it."

She heard what Diane was implying. She knew what her friend thought; yes. And if that was Jenny's verdict as well, then she would have a lot more thinking to do.