AN: I decided I was going to re-watch NCIS from Season 3 to Season 10. Jenny and Ziva's arrival in Season 3 was when I first starting watching the show and Ziva's departure in Season 10 was when I finally stopped watching. I've been in the mood for Tiva lately, which also wound up putting me in the mood for Jibbs by proxy.

After watching 3x07, "Honor Code," I was inspired to write this. Jenny and Gibbs were a lot closer in Season 3 than I remembered them being so I feel like this wouldn't have been too farfetched.

Jenny knew that the case they'd just wrapped up would be bothering him, which is why she was standing just outside of his house tonight. As Director Shepard, she was glad that the case was wrapped up and that Lieutenant Tanner hadn't been involved and that she was able to tell the SecNav that the national security of the United States was safe once again. As Jenny Shepard, she was glad that the case was over because it had clearly been affecting Jethro. Now she just had to figure out if the effect had been positive or negative. After all of the negative in his life through the years, she prayed it was positive this time.

Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she twisted the doorknob and made her way into the dark house. Anyone else might have thought nobody was home but she knew better. Her heels loudly clicked on the hardwood floors in the entryway; she knew he'd be able to hear her coming. She'd consciously picked out the pair this morning based solely on the fact they were the noisiest shoes she owned.

Finally, she came to the doorway to the basement. She ran a hand down her navy blue blouse and her black pencil skirt to press out the non-existent wrinkles before she could stop herself, cursing the fact that she was still trying to look good in front of him. Quietly sighing, she pushed open the doors and focused solely on navigating the steps in the dim light while wearing stilettos. Once she finally made it to the bottom, she finally looked away from her feet and had to muffle a giggle.

Jethro was sprawled out underneath the hull of the boat, a sander in one hand and a Mason jar with what looked like bourbon in the other. The light snoring nearly tipped her over the edge of bursting into peals of laughter but she restrained herself. He'd always denied snoring. Quietly as she possibly could while still wearing her heels, Jenny crept up beside Jethro and studied the face that she'd memorized six years ago while stationed in Paris.

Other than a few more lines and graying hair, he hadn't changed all that much. Unable to stop herself, she reached a hand out and softly stroked his cheek and smiled softly at the feeling of end-of-the-day stubble scraping her hand roughly. Knowing she should take her hand away but unsure of when or if she would ever be presented with the opportunity to touch him like this again, she softly traced his lower lip with her thumb and felt her heart begin to flutter in her chest as she remembered the things he'd done with those lips years ago.

Suddenly she was staring at his icy blue eyes. For a moment, she didn't register the fact that he'd woken up to his boss stroking his face like only a lover could. The only thought in her mind was that he was still the most handsome man she'd ever met and that she'd been a fool to leave him.

Only when his hand reached up to trace her own face did she realize that he was actually awake and that she had to get a grip immediately. He'd always said she talked with her eyes and she couldn't afford for him to figure out what she'd just been thinking.

"Jen?" His voice was rougher than usual, most likely from just waking up. There was also a hint of confusion that she didn't often hear coming from him. She internally cursed the butterflies that erupted in her stomach just from her voice and wished she didn't always react like a giddy teenager around him.

She knew there was no way she could talk herself out of this situation, so she just acted like this was a totally normal occurrence and casually removed her hand from his face. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Jenny turned around and stepped towards the workbench. She looked around for a glass and realized she was going to be drinking out of a jar too. After finding one that seemed clean enough, she tipped out the nails that it had been housing and poured a glass of bourbon for herself. Finally, she turned back around and faltered for just a moment under his gaze before looking away and taking a seat.

She watched as he tiredly rubbed his eyes and couldn't decide if he was just trying to wake himself up or if he was trying to delay answering her question. If she knew him, and she liked to think she did, then she'd say that it was the latter. He'd always been able to wake almost instantly without a problem. He knew she knew that, so she didn't know why he was bothering.

Instead of calling him out on his bluff, she sighed. "While you think about your answer, I want to apologize to you. I shouldn't have doubted you when you said something was wrong and that Tanner wasn't a part of what happened." She stared down at her lap ashamed. "I'm sorry."

She lightly jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. Jethro had silently gotten out from under the boat and made his way across the room without her noticing; she'd always been jealous of his knack for making no sound.

Jenny connected her gaze with his own, softened by sleep, alcohol, or a combination of both. "Don't apologize. It's a—"

"Sign of weakness," she cut across with a smile. "I do remember some of the things you taught me on occasion."

Jethro silently huffed a laugh. He moved his hand from her shoulder to the red hair resting just above her breasts and softly fingered it, never taking his gaze away from her own. Jenny swallowed harshly, knowing that he could get her to do anything in that moment; all he had to do was ask.

"I had a family, years ago. Before we met. A wife and a little girl. Shannon and Kelly. They were killed." Jethro's voice was quiet and pain filled; his gaze had broken from her own as he spoke, seemingly afraid of her reaction.

Jenny's eyes widened when she processed what Jethro had just said. He'd been a father to a little girl that she hadn't even known existed until now. Her mouth felt dry but she swallowed and forced her voice to stay strong. "I'm so sorry, Jethro."

He glanced up at her, face tight with apprehension. For a moment she thought he was going to yell at her but he surprised her. "You know, the people who've said that through the years always just made me so angry because they didn't really care, but you… I know you understand what it's like to have family ripped away from you."

Jenny's heart clenched as he reminded her of the questionable circumstances of her father's death but pushed the pain aside. "You lost a daughter, though. No person should have to bury their wife and child. People deal with their parents' deaths all the time. I don't think the pain I felt could be comparable to what you have gone through, Jethro."

Jethro's hand moved to cup her face. "It's not a competition, Jen. It hurt like Hell then, and it still does, but that doesn't mean you can't hurt either. I didn't tell you about them to make you feel like what you went through didn't matter. It does matter. It matters to me."

He was staring at her unabashedly and she could see that he was baring everything to her, for the first time since she'd known him. She had always felt there was something hidden from her and now she knew the burden that he'd been carrying alone for so many years. The pain he'd dealt with all alone suddenly made her feel guilty beyond anything she'd ever felt before.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she placed her hand over his and nuzzled into his palm. "I'm sorry I didn't see it. I was your partner for so many years. I always knew there was something wrong but you never said anything and I was afraid to pry. I'm so so sorry, Jethro." Her voice cracked when she said his name and the dam burst free. She began to cry in earnest, for both of them. Life was cruel.

Jenny felt Jethro shift his hand to the back of her head and pulled her towards him. She rested her head against his stomach and continued weeping as he stood stock still in front of her, hugging her to him tightly. "Jen, I didn't tell you so you'd feel guilty for not knowing. Please don't… don't cry."

Jenny calmed a few minutes later, only sniffling now. Feeling Jethro softly stroke her hair as he held her to him made her feel whole again for the first time since she'd left him. Suddenly she knew that she couldn't pretend that what they'd had back then wasn't worth saving. Her resolve to keep him at arms length had already been terribly weak to begin with but now, knowing the pain he'd been through and knowing that he'd still trusted her enough to tell her about it… She wouldn't waste any more time. Being in his arms like this made her realize that she was meant to be here.

She softly pulled away, catching Jethro's attention. He looked down at her, clearly concerned. She'd never cried like that, especially not in front of him. She weakly smiled at him and let out a watery laugh. "How the Hell did we get so far off topic?"

Jethro chuckled and lightly tugged on her hair. "We didn't get off topic. You asked if I was okay and I told you. Having Zach here these past few days reminded me of what it was like to have a kid around here." He had a melancholy, yet wistful, look on his face, one that she'd never been able to place until tonight, now that she knew the cause of it.

Jenny wasn't convinced he was all right, though, and cautiously placed her hand on his stomach where her head had been resting. "Are you sure you're okay, Jethro?" He rolled his eyes and she lightly swatted him. "I'm serious. I… care about you. A great deal and I want to be there for you, especially since I wasn't in the past."

The man rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I thought I told you not to feel guilty about that."

She rolled her eyes right back at him and spoke slowly, as if speaking to a toddler. "I know you're not used to not having things go your way but I'm afraid it's impossible to just will emotions away."

Jenny froze after her words caught up with her brain and it seemed that Jethro had caught them as well. He kneeled down on one knee so he'd be face to face with her. "You wanna elaborate on that?"

When she couldn't bring herself to say anything after a few seconds, Jethro sighed and stood back up. Jenny knew she couldn't let another chance pass them by and forced herself to speak before she could stop herself. "There are a lot of emotions that I wished that I could erase."

She stood up from her seat and edged towards his frozen form, back still turned towards her. He was tense and she was sure she looked the same. "I wish I could get rid of the anguish of knowing that I'll never speak to my dad again." She took another step. "I wish I could get rid of the anger that's been a part of me since dad was murdered." She was standing directly behind him now and she softly ran a hand up his back, between his shoulder blades. "I wish I could stop hating myself for leaving the only man I have ever loved with nothing but a cop-out of a letter."

In the blink of an eye, Jethro had spun around and pinned her to the boat. She could feel his breath fanning across her face and felt that she was trembling in his hold. "I wish I could let go of the fear of telling him that I still love him."

Jethro harshly pressed his lips down onto hers and she felt like crying out of relief but restrained herself. Instead, she focused on giving as good as she got back into the kiss. The man roughly pulled away from her lips and roguishly smiled at her. "Love you still, too, Jen."

In that instance, she knew that everything would work itself out eventually. Leaning forward, she recaptured his lips with a groan and began pulling him towards the stairs. He was looking at her questioningly and she smirked, feeling like herself for the first time all night. "I'm not making love to you for the first time in years under your boat." With that, she turned and darted up the stairs as quickly as possible, catching him off guard. She could only laugh when she heard the telltale sound of boots pounding up the stairs behind her. She couldn't wait for him to catch her; she'd always loved the chase but the capture was always the best part.